“There isn’t anything I hate more than to be called crazy.” His outstretched hand reached for my face, gliding across the skin with bloody fingers, yet unable to form a grip.
“F-fuck…” He choked on the blood pooling into his mouth and down his throat.
“Shh. It’s best to conserve what little energy you have left, Victor. Your skull is probably fractured, your brain swelling. The call of death is like a lullaby now, isn’t it?” I said, running my fingers through his blood-caked hair almost gently, and his eyes fluttered—that is, until my fist tightened, and he groaned in pain, chest heaving as I neared his ear. “Send my regards to hell, Vic.”
I pierced his neck with a shard of porcelain but didn’t stick around to watch him drain all over the tile.
Straightening myself, I moved toward the man who’d violated me and forced me underwater. The fucker was still twitching, but I thought I saw his eyes focus on mine, even for just a second. Pity. I clutched his hair extra tight for shits and giggles and dragged him fairly easily across the slick floor. The hard part was lifting his dead weight up and over the side of the tub. My muscles strained and protested as I heaved his upper body with every ounce of strength I could muster until he was bent headfirst into his new grave. His legs came next until he was fully submerged. The water was far too murky for me to make out the expression on his face, but I leaned close to the surface and grabbed his hair one more time. His eyes were unfocused but open while vomit and blood spilled from the corners of his mouth.
“Looks like you’re the one who’s fucked after all.”
He sunk like a rock when I released him. On my way out, I turned the hot water knob on full blast and moved toward the door, cracking it just enough to peek into the dim hallway.
It was clear in both directions. An exit sign illuminated the space at the end of the corridor to my right. I’d find a way out of here and get my ass out of this goddamn country and back to Philly. Silas was as good as dead, anyway.
My heart sputtered briefly at that thought. It was so quick and unexpected that maybe I’d just imagined it.
“Yeah,” I whispered, moving sticky hair strands from my face. I kept pace, searching for cameras in dark corners, but I saw none. The flickering red exit sign was like a beacon, my bare feet moving a little faster at the thought of freedom.
“Where the fuck is Victor?” a hoarse voice questioned from around the corner.
Fuck me.
I dipped into a shallow doorway, hoping against hope that they kept walking and didn’t turn down this way.
“Said he was going to pay the woman a visit. You know him. But if boss man finds out.”
Of all the ridiculous names I’d ever heard…
“Dumb fuck said he would taste that cunt even if it killed him.”
And it had.
I released a long breath when they moved past the hallway, and their voices grew farther away. Tiptoeing to the corner, I peered around the one opposite where the men were headed. Another exit sign lit the top of a dark metal door.
That had to be a way out. I ran for it, praying to whoever would listen that the damned thing was unlocked. I pushed, and the smell of petrichor hit my nose as the door swung open. I’d never smelled anything more beautiful in my life.
“Yes,” I murmured, placing a foot across the threshold, when another voice in my head caused me to wince.
You got a soft spot for me, love?
“No, no, Helena. No,” I repeated to myself in harsh whispers.
He doesn’t matter. He’s no one. He’s supposed to die anyway.
I threw open the door the rest of the way.
Let them kill him and be done…
Eleven
SILAS
“Fuck!”
My fist rocked against the cement wall, and I felt my skin splitting open around my knuckles, but I didn’t give a damn. I was numb to everything, apart from the suffocating weight of my impending death. In all the months I’d spent evading bullets, this woman somehow barreled into my life, and I found myself caught up in her shit. Whatever role Helena played in all this was still a mystery, but I had no doubt the trail of scorned men and dead bodies had finally come to collect.
Reaching out into the darkness with one hand, I smoothed the iron bedpost with my fingers and sat. I wasn’t unaware of how much time had elapsed since she’d been gone. The blacked-out room became a vortex of solitude and darkness. I’d lost my grip on time around thirty minutes after she was taken. All I could do from there was pace, think, and fucking pace some more. My fleeting thoughts of Helena and what they could do to her had me clenching my fists and chucking drawers against walls.
