Page 67 of Cain
He wipes away the tear with his thumb, a sickening sense of satisfaction in his eyes, savoring my helplessness.
“Let me go,” I whimper, my voice trembling, my body shaking with the cold terror coursing through me.
He hums softly, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “Fine.”
“What?” My heart skips a beat.
“Go,” he growls as he gestures toward the door. “The door is open. Go ahead, try. But don’t fool yourself. I will follow. You can try to run, but the moment I catch you, it’s over. No more running, no more bullshit. I’ll drag you back to me until you’re begging me to stay.” He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “And youwillbeg. Because when I’m done with you, you’ll never be able to live without me. I gave you chances just to watch you waste them. This is the last.”
He pulls back, his eyes locking onto mine.
“Go. Run!”
My heart races.
My whole body feels numb from fear.
I know he’ll catch me. I know I have just one chance.
But I have to take it and run.
So, I do.
I run.
I’m heading towards the mansion’s entrance, and just like he promised, it’s open. Unlocked, to be more precise. A vast, breathtaking garden stretches out before me, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun. It’s the first time I’ve seen the outside of this place. But there’s no time to takeit in.
I shake my head, forcing myself to focus and break into a run through the sprawling garden. It feels like he isn’t following me, but I don’t dare look back.
I run and run, and yet it seems like I’m running forever. Tall trees line the garden, accompanied by rose bushes and neatly trimmed shrubs. This place is enormous, yet deserted. How’s that even possible?
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” a male voice barks at me. I hear the sharp click of a gun’s hammer cocking. I freeze. I know it’s been pointed at me. He must be close.
I don’t move. I’m too scared. Two of Cain’s men emerge from the bushes, as if they were waiting for me. I recognize them. They are the guys who brought the beauty stands to my room the other day.
“Lower your gun, dude,” the other man advises the first. “If Cain sees you, we’ll both be screwed.”
“She’s getting away, and we have orders!” The first man stalks toward me, pointing the gun at me.
“I-I won’t leave,” I barely mumble, my voice shaking.
“Shut up!” he spits, touching the muzzle to the back of my head. “Get back into the fucking house!”
“Dude, chill. Cain might be somewhere around.”
I feel lost. Doomed. Dead already. I have never been more scared in my entire life.
And then, there’s a gunshot.
For a split second, everything freezes—my body, the air, my thoughts. My legs give out, my breath hitches, and for a moment, I think it is over. I am dead.
Getting close to death is such a weird experience. The things you thought mattered suddenly seem small,and the things you ignored become huge. Time feels like it slows down, but at the same time, you’re aware of how fast it’s slipping away.
The panic creeps in. Quick, desperate, suffocating.
But then … nothing.
No blood.
