Or I could go with the original escape plan and take the eastern exit. And fuck up my initial plan at the same time.
His back is to me, hunched over what I assume is his phone. The man sways in the middle of the hallway, shifting his weight from sideto side as a video sounds through the otherwise silent hallway.
Kohen would be pissed off to no end if I didn’t make a run for it when I had the chance. He’d be extra pissed off if Boris and I had an entirely avoidable altercation without my guard dog present.
I breathe in deeply through my nose as I pull the taser out, nice and slow, clutching it tighter to stop my fingers from shaking.
Kohen will be mad. Furious.
I should run. Gap it before Boris sees me or Tony decides our friendship is limited to drugs and partying, so he doesn’t pick me up.
But I don’t move away.
My shoes pad softly against the wooden floors, careful not to make too much noise as I creep through the wide corridor of the old gothic structure. My heart hammers harder against my chest as I get closer.
The day I was locked in the tub, I made a promise to three men that they would die by my hand, and they laughed in my face. One of them is in the ground, the other is searching for me, and the last? He’s right in front of me, just within reach.
I don’t need to close my eyes to remember all the times Boris has laid his hand on me to hurt me and make me feel less than human just because McGill let him. Or how many bruises he’s given me in the few months I’ve been here.
But mostly, it’s theclickof the latch that haunts me at night, then the sound of retreating footsteps as ice sloshes and clangs against the metal tub.
McGill died surrounded by the evidence of his broken soul.
Boris will die on academy grounds so he can spend the rest of eternity wandering these halls being a slave to this school. He tried to kill a part of me, soI’m going to kill him.
I leap forward and ram the taser against the back of his neck. Static fills the air and vibrates down my spine, filling my veins with electricity. Boris’s mouth falls open with a silent cry as his muscles seize and his entire body quakes. I don’t release the button when he drops to the floor or when tremors shake through his body, picturing how the silver of the tub reflected off his face that day.
I count to three and release, dropping my trembling hand to my side and breathing hard as I take in his body. A lump forms in my throat and liquid hatred runs through my veins as I spit out, “Sorry, I forgot to say you’ll feel a slight tickle.” He twitches when I kick him in the side for good measure.
Fucking cunt.
I gaze up and down the hall, and then with a strained huff, I drag Boris’ partially conscious form to the closest room. But Jesus fucking Christ, this man must weigh like two hundred pounds. My muscles in my weak leg are already quivering, and I’ve only made it five steps.
Once I’m out of here, I’m going to need to get my back cracked like a glow stick.
Silently muttering a string of curses, I put my entire weight into pulling him backward by his wrists. Barely hearing anything beyond the roaring in my ears as I slap the access card against the reader into the room. The lock beeps, and I shoulder the door open, panting as I yank the fuckwit the rest of the way.
I discard him at the front of the room, then lean over and place my hands on my knees to catch my breath. I think the asshole made me tweak my back. It only makes me burn hotter that he can still hurt me even though he isn’t conscious.
Well, if I need a room to commit murder in, I guess this place is as good as any. Conveniently, I had history class here, somy fingerprints will already be everywhere. What’s less convenient is that Mr. Blake is at school, and his satchel is leaning against his desk.
There’s no telling when he’ll come back.
Pulse thundering in my chest, I get straight to business and drop onto my haunches next to Boris and bitch-slap him across the face. He jolts, blinking groggily at the room. Did I look this stupid every time I woke up from a tasing?
“Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey,” I sing, roughly tapping his cheek, my voice echoing against the walls of the hundred-year-old room.
He bats my hand away, mumbling something incomprehensible, and I retaliate by slamming the butt of the taser against his nose, knocking his head back with a cringeworthy thud. Blood spurts from his now crooked nose causing a wave of nausea to swim through me. It takes a second too long for him to reach up and clutch his broken nose. I must admit, it’s a satisfying sight, but the victory short-lived. The timer in my head ticks, second by second, as a constant reminder that I need to haul ass before I get caught or miss my ride.
I yank one of the seats from off the table, and bracket the legs around Boris’s body. Sitting backward in the chair, I quickly zap the taser in the air for dramatic effect. The guard groans, moving his head from side to side.
“I get it, dude,” I say. “It usually takes me a few minutes to figure my shit out after getting tasered. Sometimes it even gives me a headache for a couple hours.”
I should be at the tree line now, the little voice in my head reminds me as I glance up at the clock.
“What are you doing, you bitch? I—”
I cut him off. He didn’t actually say the last part. I don’t think he said the first part either. But I’m guessing that’s the translation ofwhatever language he just spoke.
