Page 80 of Colton
Luella
They’re coming back.
I grit my teeth and rise to my feet, flexing the pole between my hands. It’s a slide in, slide out job, like I’m a game of fucking Ker-Plunk, but that works in my favor. I’d managed to get both out, and now I had two weapons. I’d nearly broken both arms and legs, but it was worth it to be able to hold a solid pole as a weapon. I may still be chained up, but this is all I need.
Come on, fuckers.I lick my lips, swaying my weight from one foot to the other, praying I am far enough away from the wall, close enough to the door, to smash their fucking brains in.
“You said we were needed upstairs,” one says to the other as they move closer, and my stomach churns. “It’s your fucking fault.”
“No,” the other pants; I assume the disgustingly fat one. “I didn’t.”
Then the door opens, and they’re still fucking bickering. They haven’t considered me, but I’ve considered them in fucking detail. The first guard steps in, his face twisted with anger mid-argument. His eyes widen as he sees me, standing and ready, butit’s too late. I swing the pole with every ounce of strength I have, connecting with his temple in a sickening crunch. He falls to the ground like a ragdoll.
The second guard—the fat one—stumbles in, his eyes darting from his fallen comrade to me. He’s barely got his gun up before I jab the pole into his throat, cutting off his airway. He chokes, clutching at his neck, and I strike again, this time at his kneecap. He howls in pain and collapses, his weapon clattering to the floor. Blood spurts from his neck, and for a second, I watch it as I catch my breath, staring at two of the most vicious bastards I’ve had the misfortune to meet.
Then, I scoop up the gun and press it against his sweaty forehead. “Where’s Xavier?” I growl.
The guard’s eyes bulge, his face purple from lack of air. He holds up his hands, pleading. “In...in his office,” he gasps.
Did he look like this when he was raping me? Shoving his fist into my ass and mouth?
No.
I give him a cold smile. “How do you like my gun, prick?”
Then I pull the trigger, and he falls silent, his body going limp.
With both guards down, I turn my attention to my chains. I still have the pole, and now a gun. I’m not out of this yet, not by a long shot, but I’m also not the helpless prisoner they thought I was. I’m Luella fucking Watts, and I’m coming for Xavier.
I stare at the chains, my heart pounding. Each clink of metal on metal sends a rush of adrenaline through me. I’m racing against time, against the odds, but I’m not backing down. Not until Xavier is dead, and not until I’ve burned this whole goddamn place to the ground. I shoot the chains, the rusted metal finally giving way under the speed of the bullets. The sound of the last link snapping echoes through the room, sending relief skittering through me. I’m bruised, bleeding, butunbroken. I shake off the remnants of my restraints like I’m allergic, leaving them in a heap on the cold stone floor.
I give myself a minute, because even though I know Xavier has cameras and many more men, I’m close to passing out. Blood leaks from every wound, and my eye is so swollen from my broken cheekbone that I can’t see. My mouth aches from the loss of my tooth, my jaw feels like it’s broken, and I can’t even think of what else these bastards did to me.
I take a deep breath, and my ribs scream with pain, but I examine the gun. It’s a Glock 17, and it’s still got twelve bullets left. I tuck it into the waistband of my tattered clothes, wincing as the cold metal presses against my bruised skin. I grip the pole tightly, feeling its solid weight grounding me. I know I need to move fast, but I also know that rushing in without a plan is a sure way to get myself killed.
The gun feels heavy and alien in my hand, but I grasp it tightly, a grim determination settling over me. I step over the bodies of the guards, their faces forever etched in my memory, but their deaths are a stepping stone to my ultimate goal. I can’t help but glance at the lifeless bodies of the poor women who were here before me, and I swallow hard, making a silent vow before leaving.
He’ll pay.
The hallway outside is eerily lit by lanterns, dimly illuminating the surrounding bricks.
Each step I take sends daggers of pain through my ribs, forcing me to breathe in shallow pants. My vision blurs and doubles from my swollen eye, making me blink constantly to focus. The cold stone against my bare feet sends shivers through my battered body, and dried blood pulls at my skin with every movement. My jaw throbs in time with my heartbeat, making it hard to swallow, to speak, to do anything but keep going.
Every sense is heightened. Anyone could come at any minute, and I need to be on high alert.
The hallway stretches out before me, every shadow a potential enemy. I keep my back to the wall, the rough stone scraping against my skin, grounding me. Every step is a risk, every breath a conscious effort to stay silent, stay focused. The Glock is a cold, heavy presence against my skin, a reassuring weight that reminds me I’m not entirely at their mercy. Not anymore.
You’re a survivor, Lu.My mother’s voice stops me in my tracks, and tears fill my eyes. Then, my sister.Kill them all, Luella. I love you.
My family are with me. They’re here, by my side, guiding me to safety and vengeance. I straighten my spine and dare to look either side of me, positive I can feel them.
And they’re there.
Sophia doesn’t look damaged anymore; she looks as beautiful and relaxed as she did during her happiest moments. She’s beside my mom, who smiles and waves at me to go forward.
I suck in a breath and try to apologize for not saving them, for not doing something, anything to stop their deaths. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, emotion choking my voice. “I wish I could have saved you, but I avenged you, Mom, and I’ll do it for you too, Soph, I promise.”
My heart feels like it’s breaking for my sister, my mother, and every other woman who’s had her life taken from her for Xavier’s sick perversions.
