Page 33 of Deceit

This time I can’t stop myself from throwing up. The pain is so fucking bad, I dry heave and throw up bile and blood as Jerome watches me while muttering to himself about selfish girls who do nothing but lie.

“Jerome, I need to go to the bathroom. You’ve had me tied to this bed for so long. I have to clean up the throw up and take care of business,” I tell him, making my voice sound demure and soft compared to how I really feel as I spit out the blood filling my mouth from his hit.

“No, you’re lying again. You want me to cut you loose so you can try to get away from me. It’s not gonna happen, but I know you want to try,” he says, continuing to mutter under his voice as he looks all over the room and avoids me.

Jerome is pacing the bedroom close to the bed I’m laying in as he itches his arms and mutters to himself. This time I can’t make out his crazy ramblings as he tugs on his hair and I now I have to play this shit very carefully because if I upset this stupid fuck, he’s going to attack and that’s the last thing I want. I don’t know what damage has already been done to my body. Everything hurts and my ankles are both starting to swell. I’m not even sure if I can stand or walk on them at this point after trying to yank and pull them from the restraints holding me hostage.

“I’ll let you up. Don’t try anything, Brynn. I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. I told you I was gonna have fun breaking you, but I don’t know that I will,” Jerome says, his voice hard and cold as he moves closer once again.

“I won’t try anything, Jerome. I just have to go to the bathroom and clean myself up,” I lie to him as I already formulate a plan in my head to get away from this stupid douche canoe.

Jerome works on untying the binds from my ankles and hesitates before moving to the head of the bed where he frees my wrists. When I pull my arms down and inspect the damage I’ve done to my skin, the blood starts rushing back into my hands causing me to bite down on my lip so hard I draw more blood to keep from crying out in pain. I refuse to give that to Jerome because I have a feeling he’ll thrive on that shit.

I take a few minutes for the blood to flow to my legs and hands again before pushing myself up from the disgusting mattress. I’m immediately dizzy when I sit up. It’s so bad I’m afraid I won’t have the strength to do what I have to in order to get away from Jerome and that I’ll fall on my face at his feet instead. After taking a minute while sitting up, I push up from the bed and sway on my feet. Jerome does nothing to help me and I don’t want his nasty as fuck hands on me anyway.

His attention isn’t on me as I turn to the side and grab the lamp off the bed. It’s heavier than I thought it would be. It does nothing to deter me from completing my goal of taking out my kidnapper and stalker long enough to get away from this fucking place to find someone who will actually help me get home to Kingston where I belong.

Turning as fast as I can while holding the lamp with both hands, I swing it and nail Jerome right in his temple. He immediately slumps to the floor and I get the fuck away from him. Rushing through the house, I head down the short hallway and look at every window I come across. They all have bars on the outside so I can’t get out of them. Seeing the door in front of me, I race as fast as I can there and turn the handle while trying to yank it open. It doesn’t budge and I know he’s locked it somehow and I’ll need a key to get out. A key I don’t have and refuse to search his pants pockets for right now. Moving on, I continue through the house and discover it’s a one story place that’s extremely small.

I don’t find a way out until I make it to the bedroom at the back of the house. I’m guessing it’s the master bedroom when I take a quick look around at the large room with its own bathroom, a walk-in closet, and large area for a bed and sitting section to watch TV or read. Rushing to the window to the left of me, I see it doesn’t have bars and relief fills me as I unlock it and try to push it open. The window doesn’t move no matter how I try to force it. Looking around the room again, I don’t see anything to help me break the window and there’s almost no strength left in my body. The only reason I’m still standing on my feet is due to the adrenaline coursing through me and my determination to get back to the man I love.

With one last determined push, I manage to open the window. It slides all the way open with a loud screeching noise. There’s no way in hell Jerome won’t hear it if he’s starting to wake up from the hit he took to the head. Knowing I have one chance to get away from him, I don’t hesitate to force my body through the window. I land in a heap on the cold, hard ground beneath the window and I want nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry from more pain filling my body. Instead, I push off the ground and race toward the front of the house. Finding the driveway, I follow it, trying not to feel the rocks and other debris digging and cutting into the soft skin of my feet. If I let myself think about it, I’ll stop and won’t keep moving forward.

I keep pushing myself until I get to the road. Looking both ways, I see absolutely no traffic as I try to determine which way to go. My gut is telling me to head to the left, so that’s what I do. I’ve always been taught to follow my gut feelings and they’ve never led me astray before now. Staying as close to the road as I can, I try to keep putting one foot in front of the other. It’s getting colder out with every passing minute and I know I won’t be able to continue on like this for very long.

I’m not sure how much time passes when I hear the loud rumbling engines of motorcycles. Stopping in my tracks, I wait for the bikes to get closer before I step out in the middle of the road. They’ll have no choice but to stop or risk running me over. Thankfully, they stop.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” a man shouts, his voice harsh over the rumbling of his bike’s engine.

“Help me, please. I need to get back to Kingston Stevens,” I cry out, my voice breaking and hardly audible over the engines.

I can’t allow myself to wonder if this club is friends with the Phantom Bastards or if I just replaced one horrible situation for another one. At this point, anything is better than being with Jerome and whatever plans he has for me.

“You know King?” another man asks me as I feel myself swaying once again and there’s nothing I can do to stop myself from passing out.

Just before I’m consumed by the darkness completely, I feel a strong set of arms lift me before I can hit the ground beneath me. A conversation is taking place, but I don’t understand the words being said as I’m moved off the road and placed gently in a vehicle. The only reason I know it’s a vehicle is because I’m laid across a seat that hurts certain parts of my body as it sticks to me. Whimpers escape me as the blackness finally consumes me and I lose consciousness.

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