Page 68 of Hearts Held
I can hear sounds of pleasure coming from various rooms, but knowing how disturbed Giorgio is, he wouldn’t like sounds of pleasure; he’d love the soundof pain.
I come by the fifth room and listen closely against the door, until the slight scream of a woman creeps out from behind the door adjacent to me.
“ROBERT!” I yell.
“I heard!” I hear his footsteps running toward me.
Raising my knee to my chest, I stomp in the door with my heel and pause at the terrifying sight.
Chapter 21: Brielle
Keep The Wolves Away, Uncle Lucius
Grabbing the lamp on the bedside table, I rip the cord from the wall.
“Oh, love, do you want me to wrap that cord around your wrists, bind you nice and tight? Or maybe around your neck to let you gasp for air, as I fuck the life out of you?” He sadistically chuckles as I go on the defense.
“Get thefuckaway from me,” I sneer through my teeth.
His shoulders begin to shake as he tilts his head back to laugh. “With WHAT? What areyougoing to do? Beat me with a lamp!?” He cackles at me, and it raises my blood pressure.
I grip the ceramic lamp in my hand and, with as much force as I can, smash it into the end of the bedside table, causing the lampshade and bulb to burst off as pieces of the lamp decorate the floor. Within my hand I hold what remains, the sharp, jagged edges giving me hope of escaping this shitty situation.
“Oh, you’re feisty, senora. This is going to be fun.” He cracks his knuckles and strides my way.
My heart is pounding so hard.
I refuse to let this man touch me.
I refuse to let any man have their way with me ever again.
Trying to hide my shaking hand, I grip the makeshift weapon as I feel the sweat composing beneath my palm.
One breath in, one breath slowly out.
He lunges toward me, tackling me to the ground.
Still gripping the lamp, I start thrusting it repeatedly into the side of his shoulder and neck.
He yells in agony as I continue my assault, trying my best to hit his jugular. His body rears up and he punches me in the side, disregarding the blood coming down his neck.
I gasp and cringe but try to slam the object back into him. He blocks my arm and pins it to the ground.
As he focuses on the lamp in my right hand, I snake my left hand up to his face and jab my thumb into his eye socket as hard as I can. I fish my thumb into his eye, moving it around to try to cause as much damage as possible.
Jerking his body back, he sits on his heels, pinning my legs underneath him as he clutches his face.
I struggle, trying to reach for the lamp, trying my best to wiggle my legs out from under him.
“You bitch!” he shouts, then punches me twice in the face. “I will skin youalive.”
It feels like the sun exploded on one side of my head, the pain and heat ripping across my skin and into my cheekbone. I can feel him rip one strap of the dress, exposing my breasts. The tang of blood creeps onto my tongue.
He grabs me by the neck, pulling me up toward the bed.
I’m so dizzy and distraught, my legs can’t cooperate with me, so he drags me there. I try to movemy arms as best I can, but coordination and strength largely escape me.
He grasps my hands and holds them above my head in one fist. Tears begin to slip down my cheeks as I scream in fiery anger and defeat rips down my spine.
