Page 159 of Stains of Desire
"Get up. I don't have time to waste today," he barks, digging his fingers into my arm and dragging me out of my seat.
I've never seen him like this. Something has shifted in him. The deaths of the top three cartel leaders would cause chaos among the Global Leaders. But it's as if something else is driving his response.
We get in the car and his phone rings. He answers it, and the vehicle moves forward. He says, "Louis is dead. It's time to make a move on the president."
New chills form. The head of Interpol is dead.
"It's time to put it in motion," William screams, and spit flies out of this mouth.
He's going to assassinate the president. I swallow the thick knot in my throat. I hate the president. It's always been the prime minister and William's final plan for control. If this is happening, they are closer to world domination.
What kind of world is my baby girl going to grow up in?
The embassy high-rise comes into view. Flashbacks of my night terrors plague me, and I shudder. The car stops, and William doesn't even give me time to move. He digs his nails into me and pulls me with him.
We go directly to the apartment.
"Stay here. You will not go anywhere. I will be back later."
"Okay."
For hours, I pace. Hives break out on my neck, and I scratch them so badly, I'm bleeding. It only increases my anxiety, and they travel down my torso and arms.
William never comes home. The maid arrives the next morning and tsks me when she sees my bloody scrapes. The day progresses, and when her shift is over, William still isn't back.
There is only one thought spiraling in my mind all day.
I have to kill him.
It turns dark. I go into the kitchen and look at the knives, finding the one in my dreams.
I touch the tip of the carving knife and press my fingertip against it. A spot of blood appears where the knife tip broke the skin.
I turn my back to the camera pointed toward me and pretend to put it in the wooden holder but slip in into the front of my pants.
I go into the bedroom. Keeping my back to that camera, I pull the weapon out, maneuvering as best as I can with my body. I slide the front of my body onto the bed and my hands under the pillow.
I'm not sure if I got it underneath without the camera catching it, but I stay for a long time, not moving, with my fingers on the cold blade.
I don't hear the door open, but the hard soles of his shoes clacking on the parquet floor notifies me he's here. I freeze.
The metal of his belt clicks together, and my gut twists so violently, I get dizzy as the sound of his zipper fills the room.
I flip over, ready to flee, but he lunges at me, naked.
The scent of sage overpowers me almost as much as him. I try to push him away.
"Do not fuck with me today, Penelope," he growls and tugs at my pants so much, the button rips off.
Tears fall down my cheeks. "No."
His hand pushes my chin up, and a sharp pain shoots through it. His other hand continues moving my pants down.
I manage to reach under the pillow and pull out the knife. I try to stab him, but all I manage to do is slice a bit of his torso.
"You bitch," he yells and wrangles the knife out of my hand. He holds it to my throat, and I stop writhing underneath him.
My vision is blurred. I can hardly breathe. The squeezing of my heart intensifies.
