“There, that should help,” he grumbles, standing up straight.
“Be more careful!” Candy admonishes, her brows pinched together like a concerned mother whose kid just fell and scraped their knee.
Sneering, I stand, the weight of the chain pulling my arm. “Fuck off,” I spit over my shoulder.
“I’ll be up later to read to the baby!” she hollers.
In my room I hunch over, I use the bed to help me sit on the floor. I fist the bedframe to get a better look at the bolts I’ve been working on. I try and twist one, but it doesn’t budge like usual. Using my top, I pinch the screw and tug with all my might, but it won’t have it. I’ve been trying like hell to get this bed apart, but it’s so old the bolts are stripped out.
Eyes clenched, lips pursed, I twist as hard as my fingers can.
“Ouch!” I hiss, letting go. Looking at my red fingers, an indention of the bolt pressed into my thumb and finger.
Moving onto another bolt I’ve been working on, the door to my room suddenly opens and I scoot away frantically.
It’s Rad.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” he remarks, eyeing me and the bed. His chest is sunburnt, his board shorts hung low on his hips. His hair is a mess, matching his crazy grin. Something about him raises red flags today. Maybe it’s the look in his eye, the cock in his walk.
“Get out,” I demand.
He sits on the trunk next to the radio.
“You as horny as me?”
The hairs on my arms lift, his cock rising beneath his shorts.
“Rad…”
He stands, turning on the radio. “The Joker” by the Steve Miller Band is playing. He turns it up, way up.
Walking toward me, he grips the chain that is attached to my wrist, pulling it inch by inch toward him. My nails dig into the floor both of us tug-o-warring, but he just jerks his side harder causing me to slide across the floor right into his feet.
He chuckles, bending down and spreading my legs.
Screaming, but not heard over the music, I kick my foot up hitting him right in the throat. He falls backward choking, and I make a run for it. Almost falling on my face, I barely reach the door before the chain is pulled taut and I’m stopped short. I turn my back toward the door now. Rad is now standing, a bloody smile, chain in hand.
Swallowing hard, I step to the side, my hands fumbling onto the trunk and onto the radio. I used to like this song, but it’s annoying the fuck out of me right now. I just want it to shut up. I want Rad to shut up. Anger fueling my bloodstream, I jerk the radio free from the socket and just as Rad is inches from me, I bash it against his head. I scream as if I’m as crazy as Candy, and hit him again.
He hollers out in pain, falling to the floor. I lose my mind. I drop to my knees and hit him in the face. Blood sprays across my outfit and skin. I cry and laugh, letting out every conflicted morsel in my body just as the door opens and Stacks finds me killing Rad with a box radio.
My hair is suddenly pulled so hard I’m jerked backward and I drop the radio. I’m tossed into the wall, my back slamming into the trunk, knocking the wind from my lungs.
Stacks falls to Rad’s side, smacking his face in a panic.
I try to laugh at the same time as catching my breath.
“Rad. Rad!” Stacks tries to wake him.
Biting my lip, I pray that he’s dead, it’ll be one less person to escape from. I know the thought seems grim but that’s what this place has done to me, it’s blackened the tip of my heart. There’s a piece of me that is cold and selfish. But isn’t that what survival is in short?
Rad moans, and my heart sinks. He’s alive.
“You’re fucking lucky, Piper!” Stacks picks Rad up and then snatches the broken radio from the ground before leaving the room.
Shaking, I lean up against the trunk, replaying everything in my mind. I blacked out into another dimension. I used to live a life where I thought I was broken and needed attention from a man, now I see how stupid I really was.
This is hell, this is the mirror of my mistakes and remedying them into a someone who takes charge of their life.
There is nothing stronger than a woman rebuilding herself. Lifting my trembling hands, I eye the blood soaking them. This is me, finding my crown and owning my life. Blood from the naysayers dripping from my very fingers, I can feel myself becoming stronger as I realize the only way out of here is by killing everyone in this house.
The question now is, who the hell do I need to kill next to get out of here?
7
Piper
Waking up this morning, a large dark blue shirt sits at the end of my bed. Rubbing my eyes, I look to the door, curious who put it there. It doesn’t matter, I need it. I ripped that ugly, stained dress off of me last night because I couldn’t stand the smell of Rad’s blood on it. I haven’t left my room since the incident, and I haven’t seen anyone either. I wonder what they’re doing, what they’re thinking. I shiver, nervous they’re going to retaliate.
Just as I’m about to put the shirt on, I realize I can’t with the cuff around my wrist.
“Shit,” I mutter. Lolling my head back, I groan in disdain. I really don’t want to call Stacks or Candy to uncuff me just so I can change in front of them. It’s so awkward just standing there while they stare with an unreadable look on their faces while I dress, not to mention the whole Rad thing might have everyone a little salty this morning.
Biting my lip, I look at the shirt and the cuff. Maybe I can just slide the material between the metal and my wrist. Pulling my prisoned hand through a sleeve, I pinch the end of the shirt and begin to slip it through, and pull from the other side of the shackle. So far, so good. Just a little more to go. I tug harder and shove with all my strength, inch by inch. But, the more it glides through, the tougher it is to pull it on the other side. It’s starting to bunch up and resist its journey through the cuff and I purse my lips. I try twisting and turning my wrist, the material rubbing my raw skin and reminding me of the time Zane gave me an Indian rug burn, but I finally get the shirt through.
Slipping it over my shoulder and head, I finally get the damn thing on. The shirt falls to my thighs and is lightweight and soft against my dry skin.
The dark color seems to really make my belly pop. I really wish I knew how far along I was. A smell of spicy wood dances around my nose, a smell of a man. Grabbing the collar, I bring it to my nose and inhale it.
This is probably Stack’s shirt or something.
Closing my eyes, I will it to be Saint’s scent. That this is his shirt, and he’s here with me. A loud bang outside startles me, bringing me back to the now. To this unforgiving hell I can’t seem to escape.
Going downstairs, the door is open letting in a light breeze, the sun shining on the boards of the porch. Sighing, I sit in my spot, my toes soaking up as much sun as they can get.
Maybe I can try some conditioner on the bolts. Yeah, I’ll have Stacks get me a bath ready and I’ll squirt some on the floor, and when he leaves me in my room, maybe I use it as lube.
Vada struts out of one of the garages and spots me, she always waves at me since the day I helped her with the hammer. She doesn’t wave today, instead she runs back inside. I narrow my brows in confusion before she suddenly runs back out with something in her hand.