Chapter Fifteen
Sissy
“Lyd—Arte—Lydia!” I scream at her again as she disappears out of my bedroom door. “You can’t fucking leave me like this!Help me, please!”
Mark’s chest shakes with silent laughter before his ominous chuckle rumbles through him like thunder. I hold my breath and wait for lightening to strike so I know just how close the raging storm is to us. But with every tick of the clock, and every thump of Mark’s matching heartbeat, I realize that the storm I’m impatiently awaiting is not around me or moving in on me. It is me. I am the storm that is ravaging everything and everyone whole.
I reach up and shove my thumb into Mark’s soft eyeball. His mouth opens with his shout and I shove against his chest to push free from him. I scurry out of his reach and tumble off the side of the bed, his laughter getting louder as I push to my feet and stumble out of my bedroom to chase after Lydia.
She can’t leave. Not like this. I know that I dragged her into this mess, but I need her right now, and I know that she needs me after what just happened. There’s no reason for her to have to deal with that alone when we can do it together. We just connect on a level most people don’t, and it makes it feel like we’ve known each other longer than one day.
My feet slap the old hardwoods echoing through the apartment. It’s the only sound save the hammering of the blood whooshing through my ears. The small kitchenette is empty. The couch is empty. My apartment is empty, and eerily silent.
This is all his fault. All of it is.
My stomach turns, and acid rises up my throat from the fury burning in the depths of me. I swallow it down as I turn and face the direction I just came from. The silence coming from the bedroom matches the thick silence that I’m treading. It’s deafening, stifling, and paralyzing. I fear my own heart has stopped beating.
What could he possibly be doing in there?
The bedroom doorway has never looked as scary as it does now looming before me. I slide my feet over the floor as if I’m skating to the threshold. It’s not an elegant glide, and the soles of my feet already bare the evidence in the tiny hair-like splinters that have invaded my skin. But I ignore the burning prickly sensations as I peek around the edge of the frame in my search for the dick who couldn’t control his dick.
The scarves lay abandoned on the foot of the bed where his legs were tied down. Mark is nowhere in sight though. That makes my stomach flip again, only this time in nervousness.
I reach to the side of me and grab the knife off the kitchen counter. Holding it behind my back, I slowly step through the bedroom door and pause as I look around the room. There are only a few places he could be: under my bed, in my closet, or already ran down the fire escape.
One glance at my window tells me he didn’t leave that way, so he’s still hiding in this room. I will find him, and I will punish him for all he’s done. For all his past wrongdoings, his current wrongdoings, and the atrocities he will never be able to commit but has dreamed of. Most of all, for what he’s done to me and Lydia.
Mark will pay. Preferably with his final breaths and lots of blood. Maybe, if he’s lucky, he’ll find penance in his final moments. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll get my peace returned to me when this is done and over with. I highly doubt either though. Because someone will always know what happened in 4C.
A flicker of movement in the corner of my eyes catches my attention. I jerk around and hold the knife up ready to attack. My heart pounds when I come face-to-face with nothing. Absolutely nothing. Another flicker of movement comes from the other side of me, and I spin that way. My heart hammers painfully, and I hold my hand over it as if that will keep it from tearing out of my chest. Nothing again.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I sing playfully, hoping that Mark steps out from where he is hiding. “Marco …” I whisper as I step to the bed and quickly lower myself to the floor. He’s not under there or hiding on the other side.
Turning on the balls of my feet, I stare at my reflection on the back of my closet door. The knife in my hand glints in the light and looks scary as fuck. I would hide from me too. I kind of want to, but at the same time, I feel more powerful than I ever have. It’s been a long time since I felt this free. I’ve had to give that up to others my whole life, and I’m not giving it up now.
I smile at myself in the mirror and rise to my full height. “Olly, Olly, oxen free,” I say louder, with confidence backing every word.
My mirror image wavers slightly and I know that I’ve found him. Not that he could’ve hidden anywhere else. Sliding my knife hand behind my back, I step to the closet door and grasp the knob. The door opens soundlessly.
“You don’t want to play with me anymore?”
My question causes a wary Mark to reach up and rub his already bruising neck. He doesn’t speak, just stands there holding his throat as he stares at me.
I step toward him, and he scoots as far back into my closet as he can. My brow furrows deeply with his reaction to me. I don’t understand why he’s scared of me. I didn’t do this to him, Lydia did.
“I don’t know why you’re staring at me like that. I wasn’t the one who wrapped a belt around your neck and strangled you, remember?”
His eyes widen, as if he is shocked that I would speak of what happened aloud. I’m not admitting to anything, and it’s not like there’s anyone around who would use my words against me.
“I just want to get the fuck away—”
I pull the knife from behind my back and push the point into the side of his neck. The tip bounces with his pulse as his terrified eyes look down at the blade. His eyes are straining so hard that it looks as if they will flip completely around in his skull.
“I’d be real careful how you finish that sentence, or I will finish it for you.” I push a little bit harder on the knife and a croak escapes his bruised and scratchy throat. He slightly nods his head, and I back away.
That was a mistake.
Mark leaps out of the closet and slaps my knife hand to the side. He barrels into me like a football player and knocks the breath out of me. I fly back towards the bed, slamming into the footboard and flipping over onto the mattress. Then I hear Mark’s feet pounding against the floor as he runs across the room.
