Page 36 of Hate the Way You Lie (Hate 2)

So. Fucking. Close.

Blood coats my hand as the metal cuts my skin, but I’m almost there. Just a few more pulls and I’ll be free.

You can do this, Tara. Mama didn’t raise a little bitch.

I yank as hard as my body will let me, allowing my hand to finally slip free and fall to the bed. My head slams down on the bed like dead weight, exhaustion shuttering through me, forcing my eyes closed. My body feels heavy, weak, and broken.

I’m not sure I can even move at this point, but I remember that I’m doing this for me. I’m leaving for myself. I’m escaping him. I’m getting out and claiming my freedom.

Adrenaline courses through my veins. A wave of power overcomes me, and I abruptly sit up trying to wave away the dizziness. Zayan removed Lya’s tracker and replaced it with his own. Another method of torture that he got off on. Another way he thought he could control me. Prying away the hair sticking to my sweaty neck, I feel around until I find the stitches holding the wound closed. It’s small and still tender to the touch.This is going to hurt like hell.I close my eyes and brace myself before clawing at the stitches, ripping them open. I wince as I use my good hand to dig through the flesh.

The tracker is deeper than I thought and the hole is so tiny. I have no choice but to slowly rip my skin wider the more I claw my way inside, but I eventually reach it. Yanking the small device, the slippery little fucker almost evades the grasp of my fingers, but it finally makes its way to my palm.

Thank fuck.

Such a little device holds a world full of power. Overcoming my urge to crush the tracker, I place it on the bed, making sure he thinks I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Two can play this game. Knowing him, he used Lya’s tracker to fuck with them somehow, to show them that he’s in control. He might think he’s the one who knows all, but I know him just as well.

I grab the sheet he so graciously left me to keep warm and wrap it around my body, tying it as tight as I can while still leaving enough room to move. I have no clothes here since he burned them and I’m not sure I’ll have time to search for any. If I’m going to run, I’d rather not do that naked and draw even more attention to myself. Even though I’m sure a woman running around in a sheet won’t be much better.

Looking at the door, I pray to any kind of higher power that Zayan’s ego is bigger than his brain, and he left it unlocked thinking there was no way I’d get to it. I stand, but my wobbling legs below me cannot support my weight. Falling back on the mattress, my vision swarms with black dots from moving too quickly.

He’s beaten me, raped me, drugged me, and withheld food and water from me. I have no idea how long it’s been, but the way I’m barely able to hold myself upright indicates I’m running on empty.

Don’t give up. You’re stronger than you think.

Steeling my shoulders, I ease myself from the bed again. I don’t have time to waste. If he comes back and sees what I’ve done, he’ll kill me more than he already has.

I squeeze my eyes shut, sucking in air.

I am strength.

I am power.

I am worth more than this monster is trying to make me feel.

I am a fucking queen, not a pawn.

My legs move of their own volition, guiding me as I stumble to the door. Tripping over my own feet, my body painfully slams into the wall, but I quickly push off, ignoring the throbbing in my muscles and moving closer to what’s going to decide my fate.

Reaching out, my hand shakes as I grab the cold, silver handle.

This is it.

Please, please be unlocked.

Twisting, the door pulls open with ease. My stomach instantly flutters with excitement.

Stupid motherfucker.

I smile at how he underestimated me. How he expected me to be the mouse he turned me into the last time he had me under his control. I may have cracked, but I haven’t shattered.

Slowly opening the creaky old door, I peek my head out and look both ways down a dark, eerie hallway. The deafening silence screams in my ears, sending a chill down my spine. Zayan has always thrived in the shadows, so I wouldn’t put it past him to be lurking there. I’m not even sure if he has cameras in that room, but if he does, he likely knows I’m moving and free now. It won’t be long before he returns to stop me from getting free.

I have no idea where I’m at in this house, but my instincts tell me I’m in a basement. The room he had me in had no windows. It was freezing and had cold concrete floors, screaming that I was somewhere underground.

Looking down the hall again, I see a door at each end of the hallway. I have no idea which one is my ticket to freedom, so I pick one and hope.

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