Fuck, he’s strong. Each strike feels like a sledgehammer colliding with my body. His weight against my middle hurts so fucking bad, my ribs screaming as I try to avoid his strikes.
I’m so fucking weak, so tired and hurt that I feel my strength ebbing with each second that passes by. I can’t take much more of this.
One of his punches gets through my forearms and he hits me directly in the nose. That hit wakes my brain up, sending me back to a sparring session with Nico.
“If you’re on the ground, get control of their legs and roll them. Nine times out of ten, your opponent will be more focused on hurting you than distributing their weight.”
Remembering what he taught me, I turn to the side, making my captor think I’m giving up and curling in on myself.
“Fucking asshole!” my captor yells as he punches me in the side of the head again. “You think you can kill?—”
I cut him off by hooking my ankle around his and rolling him to his back. He yelps, but I caught him off guard and he ends up landing heavily on his side. I knee him in the stomach, making him double over.
Managing to get behind him, I wrap my arm around his neck and pull, trying to cut off the air supply to his brain.
I avoid his reckless punches and yell as I pull with all my might. This has to work. I don’t have anything left.
After a few tense seconds, my captor’s hands pinwheel and his body weight gets heavier against me. Just a little more. A little…more…
Finally, he relaxes as if he’s passed out, a huff of breath leaving his lungs.
I remove my arm, then wrap my hands around his head and jerk, breaking his neck.
Vision swimming, I lean back and try to pull in lungfuls of air. My body is on fire, screaming at me tofucking rest, but I can’t. If I rest, I die.
With strength that comes from thin fucking air, I push the man off me, able to pull in a deeper, fuller breath. Turning to the body, I search him and find a gun, safety off with a full clip.
“Fucking idiot,” I mutter to the dead man, spitting in his face. Had this asshole remembered he had a gun, I’d be dead instead of him, so I guess I should thank him for being so fucking stupid.
I struggle to my feet, weaving back and forth as I walk to the stairs. When I get to the base of the steps, I lean against the wall, trying to get my swimming vision to chill the fuck out.
There are two possibilities when I get upstairs. One, Austin and Maskless will be there, waiting to kill me when they realize I won the battle in the basement, or two, neither of them are here and I’ll be able to get away.
Agony radiates through my limbs as I stumble back over to the bodies. I check the man with a hole in his throat’s pockets and find a set of keys. I can drive far enough away to get some fucking help. If I’m still in Jersey, I’ll figure out where I am. If not, I’ll find a phone and call my family. I check the phone the first fucker had and the screen is cracked all to hell and it won’t turn on.
Keys in hand, I inch over to the stairs. I head up slowly, listening for any noises from the floor above me.
When I get to the top step, I press my ear to the door, trying to catch even the faintest sound from the other side.
Hearing nothing, I push the door open, my right hand holding the gun up and at the ready.
No one is here, at least not in the living room.
I walk as quickly as I can in the front door’s direction, ignoring the pain racing through me. I’m almost there, almost free.
Gun still raised, I burst outside for the first time in what I think is a week. It’s almost dusk, the sun setting in the west. The clouds are an amalgamation of purples, oranges, and blues. I almost tear up at the sight, finding it more beautiful than I ever have.
While he was torturing me, Austin revealed that the three men that were helping him were his cousins, family from his dad’s side that weren’t in the life but were all brutal motherfuckers. My throbbing limbs and broken bones could attest to that. He’ll find two of them in the basement, dead by my hands.
I’m three for three with his family.
He also told me that Donny was in on the plot, planting letters for me to find, and grabbing me outside of the club while one of his cousins helped set up the safe house they held me in.
I will kill that motherfucker when I find him.
Breathing in the cool, naturally scented air makes me want to break down in tears, but that can wait until I’m safe.
Climbing down the porch stairs, I move as fast as my injured limbs will carry me.
