I grab my book bag, loading it full of the cash and guns. I toss my bras and underwear on top and two changes of clothing—that’s all that will fit. Once it’s packed to the brim, I put it in the bottom of the closet and try to find somewhere to stash the knife.
I’m tempted to leave it under my pillow, but I’m afraid Blade would come across it. I hide it under the bathroom sink, rolled up in the bottom towel in the pile. Then I head back to bed and wait.
Blade stumbles in an hour or so later. He’s so wasted that he falls into the wall as he takes off his boots. I stay as still as possible, pretending to be asleep.
He strips out of his clothes and falls on top of me as he tries to climb over me. “Mmm, fuck, Candy. You smell so sweet, andthat mouth…” He chuckles. “Damn, girl. I was ready for bed, but how about you blow me? Once I’m hard, you can climb on my dick.” He rolls onto the middle of the bed and gives my shoulder a shove, like I could have slept through his monologue.
I pretend to wake up, rubbing my eyes.
“Yeah, that sounds good. I have to pee first. Why don’t you get yourself ready?” I climb out of the bed, bolting for the bathroom before he can catch me.
Once I’m in the bathroom, I dig out the knife and pretend to use the toilet.
Fear like I’ve never experienced courses through my system, and I almost chicken out, but I know how things work around here.
The guys just got back from a run. They always party like they did tonight and sleep the entire next day away. There will be a few people posted to keep watch, but they’re exhausted and running on fumes too. That’s if they didn’t partake in the party favors, but with Blade wasted, this is the best chance I have to get away.
I’m just not sure if I can actually go through with it and kill someone.
He’s treated me horribly.
Tortured me mentally and physically, but if I go through with it, does that make me as monstrous as him?
If I’m a monster, I’m one he created—formed out of fear and desperation.
He’s told me before that he’d kill me rather than let me leave.
And I fully believe he meant it.
If I don’t get out of here, I don’t think I’ll live to see twenty.
Flushing the toilet, I turn on the water in the sink and pretend to wash my hands.
This is my one chance at freedom…
If I don’t take it, I might not get another.
I let myself out of the bathroom, keeping the knife behind my back. I climb onto the edge of the mattress with my heart beating faster than it ever has.
“Fucking took you long enough. You better make it up to me, Candy Girl,” he says without even bothering to open his eyes.
I don’t think it through.
Pulling the knife up, I aim for his chest.
I’m a bloody fucking mess by the time I drag myself into the bathroom for the world’s fastest shower. I clean off as much evidence as I can from the knife and dress in multiple layers before shoving the blade into its sheath and stowing it in the front pocket on my hoodie.
Sneaking out of the clubhouse is easier than I expect it to be, and the road in the distance has car lights passing by. If I can get there, I’ll have a better chance of hitchhiking.
“Goddammit.” Magnum’s voice comes from behind me.
I jolt and spin around as I reach into the pocket on my sweatshirt, palming the handle of the knife.
“Please, just turn around and walk away.” My words come out as more of a croak than anything.
Mag frowns. “Are you trying to get me killed? Is this a setup? Is Blade testing me?”
I take a step toward him, shaking my head. “I swear to God, it’s not. I have to get out. I’m only eighteen. I can’t spend the rest of my life dealing with this shit. I’ll lose my mind. You don’t have to either. You’re not like them. You can come with me…”
