Nearly Broken Page 7

  But not me.

  His rock hard muscles were probably a turn-on as well, but I saw them for what they really were – just another weapon to immobilize me against my will.

  The way he walked with one hand in his pocket, the other cycling back and forth to his mouth to supply his urges with continual satisfaction, showed he was in no hurry to move. Reeking of confidence, he knew he’d get what he came here for. No matter what.

  I inhaled a breath so sharply my throat and chest felt cut. Then I cringed and stumbled back, dropping to the floor, scurrying backwards until I rammed into a metal stool. It screeched roughly against the tiled floor before slamming into the counter wall.

  Shit! Surely he heard that!

  My lungs screamed for air as my will to breathe came to a dead stop. He acknowledged the sound, his head slightly shifting my way through the glass, the tilt of his face aimed directly at my spot in the darkness. The way the light cut down on his angled eyebrows shadowed his eyes.

  Acute pain pierced my chest, burning my senses with a combination of fire and ice. My eyes fought their way open, but they were so desperate to close, so tired… Something weighed down my lower half, or rather someone. My head couldn’t move; everything so drugged and numb. Something blurred into my line of sight – a mop of hair, followed by dark, shadowed eyes. But it was the glint of metal that caught my gaze before my lids shut down once more.

  His head tilted back, his path undeterred.

  He’s screwing with me. I know he heard that. He’d turn and be on me any second, yet my feet wouldn’t budge, frozen to the ground in fear. Please, Megan… Run! My shoulders rocked first, perhaps because they were close enough to get my brain’s urgent message to move before it became convoluted and undecipherable like the rest of my body seemed to think it was. My lungs reactivated but their pace rivaled my frantic heart. Trembling, it took three attempts to rise, my limbs so shaky they barely supported my weight anymore.

  He was gone from sight, possibly just outside the window’s view.

  One foot, two… I shuffled backwards, my hands reaching out to guide me blindly, too afraid to look away, knowing the moment I did, he’d reappear before my bulging eyes.

  I entered the kitchen, my hands wanting to grasp at the door frame, to hold tightly until someone from the diner came to look for me. But I knew I couldn’t wait it out. Every second I paused was another I could’ve used to flee, to get as far away from here as possible. Away from this sadistic bastard, toward a path that would take me away from Nick, too. But I couldn’t think about that right now. About how easily he made me smile and made me forget about the bad things continually plaguing my mind like a bad rerun. I couldn’t let myself think about that kiss we shared just hours ago. God, was it really just two hours ago? It now seemed like days. But I couldn’t think of Nick right now.

  The promise to call the diner once I got reestablished somewhere was the only reason my legs sprang into action, plucking my stubborn-ass feet from the ground. Finally, my neurons fired between my brain and my limbs, syncing my intention to flee as fast as possible, and I snatched my bag from the cabinet and a knife from the drawer on my way out the back.

  I cracked the back door open, minimizing the squeak that was determined to give me away, slowly peeking more and more until my head poked through. The alley seemed clear, but I didn’t like the number of shadows. There were way too many places someone could hide. Why hadn’t I noticed that before? Were there always this many, or had I just foolishly allowed myself to feel safer with each passing day, regardless of the nagging images my memory plagued me with? And a small part of me blamed Nick for distracting me, for making me feel so comfortable in his presence, for making me feel safe. Because I wasn’t. Never had been.

  I heard the front door shift back and forth, like someone was trying to get in. I gripped the knife so hard my knuckles whitened and my fingers tingled from lack of blood circulation.

  I gulped a large breath of air and ran for it, not caring that my feet thumped and skidded across the pavement. If he was headed towards the back, being quiet wasn’t going to save my ass. Running was the only hope I had now. I dipped and dodged as I zigzagged the streets and alleyways, doing anything and everything to minimize his visual of me. Sound was harder to follow and I wasn’t going to let it be as easy as watching me run down the center of the street like a stupid animal.

  My heart beat erratically, my head repeatedly swishing back and forth like the hand of a grandfather clock, refusing to be blind in either direction, fear ripping apart my insides over what I could’ve missed that split second I turned away.

  Now gasping to catch my breath, the crisp air scratched the lining of my throat. I ignored the raw pain and strained my lungs as I pushed my legs harder, faster. Rounding that last corner, my apartment was at last in sight, the porch light Nick had replaced a shining beacon guiding me home. I bobbled the knife and keys in my hands, trying to feel for the right key since I couldn’t see in the dark.

  Refusing to stop, I slammed into the front door. God finally on my side, the key slid in on the first try and I threw myself inside, glancing one last time over my shoulder before locking it behind me. My palms face down against the wood, I leaned my weight against the door, my exhalations so loud it was all I could hear. I fearfully peeked behind the closed blinds, lifting ever so slightly.

  Nothing behind me, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t still there. And I wasn’t foolish enough to think I was safe.

  I rushed to my closet, pulled my bag from the corner and lifted the carpet. Snatching the wad of cash, I stuffed the bills into the side pocket, then grabbed the empty bag beside it and flew to the kitchen. I tossed the knife haphazardly onto the counter and emptied the entire cabinet of food and zipped it up. Lastly, I ran to the bathroom to grab what I could, cringing when I saw Nick’s black toiletry bag sitting on the counter.

  That’s when I heard it – the quiet metal grinding of the knob as it tried to twist open on the front door. My mouth agape, all I could do was watch in disbelief. All that running, getting lost in a nowhere town, keeping my head down and mouth shut, did nothing to save my ass. Because now I was trapped. Like a fucking rat.

  Something scraped and dug into the lock, and I ran for the kitchen, grabbing the knife just as the door popped open. With shaking hands, I held it out before me, though I had little faith I’d have control of the knife for long, but all I needed was one good stab to buy me a few precious seconds.

  The man paused at the door before reaching out to drop his keys on the counter.

  Nick.

  I couldn’t stop the crying. I wasn’t even sure how I’d managed to go through everything I did the past ten minutes and not shed a single tear. But now that I had come to a complete stop and saw Nick coming towards me with a shocked and concerned look on his face, I just couldn’t stop myself from breaking down.

  “Megan. What the hell?”

  I wasn’t sure if he actually expected me to answer that, but he pulled the knife from my loose grip and I buried my face on his chest. My upper body jerked uncontrollably, even under his firm hold.

  “God, you’re shaking! Darla said you went to the diner, but when you didn’t come back I went to look for you. Why did you come home? I don’t care how small this damn town is, it’s not safe to walk home.”

  You have no fucking idea.

  I still didn’t answer him, my insides so nauseated, my body so ready to keel over and just quit. And I would have too, if not for Nick keeping me on my feet. He sighed heavily, leaning his head atop mine. A moment later I felt his head bob up and his arm extend to the counter, his hand shuffling through the bag of food I’d left on the counter.

  “Were you leaving?” He sounded pissed, so it didn’t surprise me when he pushed me off and held me a foot away so I’d be forced to actually look at him. But my vision was so blurry all I saw was a blob of smeared watercolors in dark tones. “Megan?” he shouted, shaking my shoulders. “What the hell
happened? Are you leaving?”

  My head nodded slightly, fearfully, because I still planned on leaving. Without him.

  Reaching his hands to clasp my cheeks, he brought our heads closer together. I blinked hard a few times, expunging what remained of the silky liquid around my eyes. His thumbs gently swept the tears away. “Megan,” he said softly, trying a quieter approach since I had yet to answer any of his snipes thus far. “You were headed to the diner. What happened that has you so scared?”

  My lower jaw trembled. I really didn’t want to leave, but I had to. I had to go before Nick got pulled down with me, before he got hurt in the process. And though it pained me to do so, I whispered, “I can’t tell you. I just have to go.” I tried to pull back but his hands slipped to my shoulders and gripped me hard, locking me in place.

  “Hell no I’m letting you go! That’s not good enough. You’re not stepping one foot out of this apartment when something’s got you scared shitless.”

  “You have to. I have to go.” I pulled and groaned and tried to squirm free, but he easily overpowered me, leaving me completely at his mercy, especially once his hands slipped farther down to grasp my biceps.

  “Megan, stop! If you want to leave, fine. I’ll come with you.”

  Those damn tears started up again, the thought of him by my side too tempting. I wanted him so much I ached. But I wanted his safety even more, so I shook my head.

  “Do you seriously think you could do anything to stop me from following?”

  “Stop!” I cried, choking as I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. “Please, stop. I won’t drag you into this.”

  “Into what?” he asked, smashing his torso against mine, backing me up until the counter smashed into my lower back, pinning me. Once trapped beneath his weight, he snatched my wrists, as my hands were trying to push him off to no avail.

  “Please, just let me go,” I whimpered in defeat. When he still didn’t, I shouted, “LET GO!” at the top of my lungs.

  Eyes bulging, he pulled back, letting me fall softly. I collapsed to the floor in a ball, but he was still trying to touch me, to comfort me in some way. Squatting next to me, my arms erratically fought off his attempts to reconnect.

  “I need to go! Just get away from me!”

  “I’m not letting you go anywhere,” he replied vehemently.

  I screamed. Why wouldn’t he just fucking move? “He’s out there! Okay? I won’t go back! I’ll die before I’ll let him take me!”

  “Megan, no one’s going to take you.”

  “He will! He’ll never let me go. Not after what I’ve done. And if he finds you…” My resolve began to fail and whimpering took the place of my voice. “I don’t know what he’ll do to you. So please, you have to leave, too.”

  When he still didn’t, I actually thrust my arm towards the door, anger building within, my heart drumming relentlessly in my chest. “NICKOLAS! LEAVE!”

  “Tell me why!” he shouted.

  “Because I KILLED HIM!”

  That stunned him into silence, and for once he took me for something more than a girl having a crazy, erratic fit. “I killed him,” I whispered slowly. The shock on his face was horrifying. Finally, he was looking at me for what I really was. Ugly.

  And he needed to understand just how much he needed to get the hell away from me. “He’s here for me. Just me. So, please. Please save yourself and get as far away from me as possible. Don’t ever look back. I promise you I’m not worth it.”

  I rolled away from him, lying on the floor on my side, and tucked myself into the fetal position. I killed him…

  My arms reached through the smashed glass, gripping the iron bars sturdily, shaking with all my might though I knew they’d never budge. Smoke leaked out my newfound hole, escaping into the crisp night air, mocking me as it left me behind to burn.

  “Megan,” he said with the softest voice I’d ever heard. His hand lightly touched my shoulder, but I didn’t brush him off this time. Everything around me seemed fuzzy. My head. My thoughts. The baseboard I stared at. Nick’s voice.

  Ugly…

  I killed him…

  He’s coming…

  His hand retreated but his voice came so close that the fine hairs within my ear tickled. “Megan? Tell me what happened. Tell me everything.”

  Everything. Would he leave then? If he knew the truth? My heart was literally aching at the thought of disappointing him, saying the words that would disgust and run him off for good. As much as I wanted him, I needed him to leave. Needed him to realize I was poison. He was too kind for me, and deserved so much more than I could ever offer. He needed to see that I couldn’t be fixed, that I could never be what he really needed.

  So I told him…

  “My parents were the only family I had. I wasn’t eighteen yet, and a friend of theirs had legal rights to care for me until I was. Some rich guy in the hills. He seemed nice…at first. But there was something off about him.”

  A blurred head moved above me, in and out of my vision, but I knew it was him.

  “I didn’t like how he’d look at me at night, after having a few drinks. But I was stuck there. Literally stuck behind window bars and steel doors with electronic entry pads.

  “He claimed he was a powerful business tycoon, that his life had been threatened, and that was why we were on temporary lockdown. But no one ever came or went in that house, not even security. So I didn’t believe him.

  “There were no phones that I could find, and the computers were all password protected. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t find a way out of that place.

  “Then came the night of his proposal.” The word sickened me, caused my stomach to churn. “He wanted sex in return for more liberties around the house, but I wasn’t stupid. He’d give me nothing that wasn’t supervised, so despite the disgust in my head, I politely turned him down, using a fake boyfriend as my excuse. I went on to tell him that I could take care of myself, and if he’d just let me leave, I would. But he used the excuse of how he was legally bound to care for me, and if I wanted to make some money before I turned eighteen… He claimed the sex would be platonic and that it’d be stupid of me financially to pass up that much money for such a short period of time.

  “Again, I said no and he seemed unaffected. After hiding in my room for a few days, he came to apologize, saying that if he’d made me uncomfortable, I was welcome to spend the rest of my time in the private guest quarters on the bottom floor, since it was set up like a mini apartment. I was actually stupid enough to check it out when I thought he was showering.

  “I tell myself that he would’ve found a way to get me down there anyway, that he could’ve easily overpowered me at any moment.”

  Stupid girl. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  “I didn’t think twice about it because it didn’t have an electronic lock on it. And once I got down the basement stairs and realized it was nothing more than a king size bed and a bathroom, it was too late. That’s when I realized the lock was on the outside, not the inside. He’d already locked me in and I just didn’t have the body weight to knock the door down.

  “I was afraid to sleep and had nothing to eat, so when he finally came down for me, I was too weak to fight him off. Not that I didn’t try… He finally got pissed off at my screaming and scratching and just hit me until he knocked me out.”

  I closed my eyes, disgusted, horrified of what came next. But the images burned on the inside of my eyelids were even worse.

  “When I woke up, I was sore and bruised. And I could feel everything he did to me.” …Could feel how rough he’d been with my body, particularly inside me. And the bruises… I was always bruised inside and out. “He took my clothes, so I was forced to be naked for him.

  “My time there’s a blur because he kept me drugged after that.” A blessing in the deepest level of hell. “I couldn’t figure out how he was doing it. The water? The food? Even if I skipped them, I still woke up the next morning knowing I’d been raped again.�
� He’d been so rough. Every time. Like I was nothing more than a tissue meant to be discarded via paper shredder. I never had time to heal.

  But thank God I was never really conscious for it all… I couldn’t even imagine the trauma my body and soul would’ve suffered had I been.

  As numb as my body was, the tears continued to well behind my eyes. And as I forced myself to relive that horrible nightmare, they just kept coming and coming.

  “I wanted to die. No one was looking for me. No one even knew I was missing. Every morning I died a little bit more and I just wanted it to end. So I stopped eating. Once I flushed three meals, he realized what I was doing. He held a knife to me and said there were worse things he could do than drug and rape me, and that he’d do it that very night if I didn’t start eating again.

  “I felt so hopeless. I couldn’t even die!”

  I took a moment to calm my breathing, which was difficult now that I was choking on the thick fluids sliding from my nose down my throat. Nick was so quiet, and at some point, he had removed his hand from my shoulder. But I knew he was still there. He was so close I could feel his body heat on my backside, and it gave me the strength to continue.

  “I didn’t know what to do. He had all the control. I was at his mercy, and he never gave any. And the drugs… He kept me so doped up it took me forever to put it together. It wasn’t in the water or the food. It was the vent. He laced the air whenever he wanted to come down, or to keep me quiet when people came over. And they did. The bastard hung a baby monitor in my room so I could hear how close these strangers were to discovering me. And rescuing me. He even forced me to listen to him screw the women who gave it up willingly.” The only good thing about those nights was that he wouldn’t come down to take it from me.

  But then there was the one friend who did know about me. The one that got visiting rights to my prison. My captor knew I’d be listening in fear for his voice, knowing that he’d make his way down to me eventually. The things he did hurt me the most and left faint scars on my skin. But I didn’t tell Nick about the horrors of that man. No, this story was about the man that locked me in that dungeon to begin with.