I stared at him. After what we'd just done, what the hell was the protocol? I’d come hard. Twice I might add. I had no leg to stand on by trying to pretend that hadn’t been me. "I'll walk."
Back in my room, Drake stalked toward me. I blinked rapidly falling back on the bed, not sure of what was happening.
His brows furrowed, settling into deep grooves as he watched me. 'If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it when you were creaming all over my fingers." Then, with the pair of shiny handcuffs he pulled from his back pocket, he murmured, "Safety first, kitten."
The shame was a stinging slap to my ego along with a new sting of terror and I tried to crawl away, but he held me tight as he clinked the metal bracelets on my wrists. "I'm going out," he announced as he pushed himself to his feet. "You'll be well looked after. If you need anything, just ask Reginald."
I didn't know what the hell had happened in his room, before. It was hot and confusing and so sexy in the moment. But now I just felt used. Used and manipulated.
Then he was gone, leaving me handcuffed to the headboard. I jerked and tugged at the cuffs, but it was useless.
Exhausted, I collapsed back onto the bed. My frustration spilled over and hot tears streamed down my cheeks.
I wasn't sure how long I cried, how long I let myself cry, but even as sleep tugged at me, I promised myself one thing. I would not go down without a fight. Not a chance in hell.
19
Daphne
I hadn’t seen Drake for almost twenty-four hours.
What if something happened to him? I couldn’t stay here forever. Willow was getting married soon. She needed me.
What's it going to be, Winslow, cry or take charge of your life? Whatever the fuck is left of it.
For twelve years I'd been a prisoner locked up in my own body. Never again. I clasped my hands together, said a little prayer, and then dislocated my thumb, saying a little prayer of thanks for being born double jointed. It felt more like I needed to crack my knuckles than actual pain.
I held myself still for just a little bit longer as I listened for Reginald. Every creak and groan of the house had me on high alert.
But I heard nothing.
In the process of wiggling out of the cuffs, I scraped the skin on my hands, and I did not have the time to wrap them with gauze. I needed to move. Now.
Carefully, I rolled off the bed onto a crouch, waiting and listening for any footsteps coming close. Nope.
One breath. Two breaths. In and out. In and out.
When nobody came, I ran to the window, pushing it up with all my strength. The window needed oiling, and God help me, I did not want to break it because that would alert Reginald.
We were still on the third floor, so I had a falling issue. But I had to risk it. After what had just almost happened with Drake, I couldn’t stay. That man would destroy my soul.
And you would like it.
I had no phone and no sense of where I was, but at the very least, I knew which way was north, south, east, or west. I just had no idea which direction London was from here, for fuck's sake.
Pick a direction and go.
I opted for east. I didn't love the idea of having to traipse through the woods with no shoes on, but with doubled socks it would be my best option. It would at least provide some cover, and from what I could see, there was a creek flowing that way, so I’d have access to water. And God help me, I hadn't heard any dogs, but if they had some, I knew it would be harder to track me near the water. And when people went camping, they camped near water, so I might run into someone who would let me borrow a phone.
Get your arse moving, girl.
Once the window was open, I climbed out onto the sill, dubiously looking down. My stomach pitched again at the idea of the fall. Jesus, suddenly it looked far from up here, and I could not afford to twist an ankle.
First things first though. I had to turn my body around to close the window, which was a feat all on its own. Once I finally had the window closed so anyone walking up the side of the house wouldn't see, I squeezed my eyes shut and let go. My knees screamed out in pain when I landed with a thud and a roll onto the secondary roof.
The pain in my knees had me wincing, but holy hell, I was alive. The exhilaration dampened the pain with a flood of adrenalin. I shimmied myself to the ledge, having to crawl a few feet over to the left, so that I would be right above the bushes.
I was wearing thick leggings and thick socks. So far, it hadn't rained today, so I wouldn't have to suffer with wet socks, but fuck. It wasn’t very cold, but I needed to make some headway before nightfall. Otherwise, I was screwed.
Don’t get wet. Don't break an ankle. Stay as dry as possible. Find water. Find people. All before nightfall.
Okay, I could do this. I was athletic. I did barre class. I also went on long walks all the time. I liked to hike.
Walking around Primrose Hill is hardly hiking.
Okay, so occasionally I had hiked. It didn't matter because I didn't have any other options. I glanced down at the shrubs dubiously, and they seemed to glance back saying, Come on in, the water is fine, though they looked thorny. I placed a hand over my mouth, closed my eyes, and jumped.
The fall, though short, had this free-fall effect for a millisecond, making me think that I was flying.
But that brush was quick to meet me. Oh, God. Something stuck at the back of my heel, and I winced, pulling out a tiny little branch before rolling onto the ground.
Again, I waited for some kind of alarm or something, but I heard no noise. My heel was going to be annoying, but not too bad. All I had to do was run across that garden, and I could stay close to the hedges. Then there was the field, and I could cross the road and enter the woods. Not bad. I could do this.
I clasped my hands and prayed. Dear God, if you are there, yes, I would still like bigger boobs and a smaller arse, and I want to survive this. Please, God, please.
My prayers thrown up, I ran like hell.
My heart hammered all the way. I kept expecting Reginald with a shotgun behind me. I could almost hear the crack of the bullet.
But nothing like that happened. There were no dogs. No thundering footsteps behind me. Nothing.
But that didn't slow me down.
The grass was wetter than I expected, so my feet wouldn't stay dry for long, and I would have to eventually stop and swap my socks out. But I could do that when I got to the woods.
I made it through the garden and waited, looking over my shoulder to see if Reginald was following or if Drake was home and had discovered me gone. But nothing. I was going to get out of here.
It was just through the meadow, into the woods, and I would be home free. Easy.
With another deep breath, I got up and ran.
With every stride forward, I kept thinking about the way my mother had said that I would never amount to anything, that no one was ever going to look after me the way that she had. All the times that she had lied to me and made me sick, taken me to the hospital, when all along she was the one making me ill. The anger, the hurt, and the disappointment fueled me, and I ran faster than I ever had in my life.
The year after I had gone to live with Gran, the doctors were shocked by my miraculous recovery. I danced and played sports for the first time, only to discover I was bad at most of them. But God, did I enjoy at least trying. I had never been given an opportunity before.