“Please. She was no virgin, were you, you little slut?” Lucien scoffs, shooting a foul glare my way before turning back to Marcus. “What does it matter anyway? You didn’t want her because of her virginity, you wanted her because she looked like your first wife. That hasn’t changed.”
Shit. How fucking perfect for me. I look like the guy’s dead wife. No wonder he wants to force me into certain clothing, schedules, and perfume. He’s trying to recreate her using me. That’s so fucking wrong.
Marcus growls, stepping into Lucien. “Don’t you fucking talk about her,” he spits, turning his gaze back to me. “Were you a virgin or not?”
This is getting way too out of hand but with his anger focused on Lucien, I do what I can to keep it there.
I force tears to my eyes. When in doubt, bring on the waterworks. “I was,” I cry, looking to Marcus. “He made me bleed. It hurt so bad. I had to run because I knew he’d do it again. He was going to make the most of the last six months and get what he thought he was owed.”
Marcus’ eyes turn to a deadly stare as they slice back toward Lucien and with their attention currently occupied, I grin to myself. Fucking perfect. The tears worked like a fucking charm.
As if forgetting the gun in his hand, Marcus swings at him again but Lucien is prepared and instantly fights back. The two of them are thrown around the room, crashing into bookshelves and the security monitors against the wall.
Lucien’s bar is destroyed and I watch with wide eyes, terrified that I’ll be next.
Fists fly as loud grunts are heard around the room. A gun is dropped but from here I can’t tell whose it is.
I have to get out of here, but how? Their fight is a mess. It’s nothing like the fights I usually see. It’s sloppy and weak; rich boy fighting. Slade and Damian had to grow up protecting themselves and their friends, but people like Lucien and Marcus, their way of fighting is usually dealt with by throwing money at people.
It quickly gets out of control and knowing that someone is going to get hurt, has me creeping back around the desk, ready to get out of here.
If Marcus was to go down, Lucien will come for me and if Lucien was to go down, Marcus will probably come for me too, but the good news is that it sounds like he’s up for a trip to his divorce lawyer.
I start creeping to the door, trying to avoid being hit or elbowed in the face when the gun sounds quickly followed by the glass window behind me shattering into a million pieces. The three of us pause and for a moment, there’s complete silence.
Neither of them had expected that. The gun is in Marcus’ hand and from the astonishment on his face, it was an accident, and realizing this, the fists start flying once again.
I make a break for it. I’m not sticking around a second longer.
I bolt for the door, narrowly avoiding being rammed into by Lucien’s back as Marcus shoves him hard. “Get the fuck back here,” Marcus roars before I hear more grunting and groaning followed by a bang and then the sound of a heavy body dropping to the ground.
Fuck. I start sprinting.
I reach the stairs when a hand curls around my elbow and my body is jolted back with a hard yank. I’m shoved up against the wall with Marcus pushing into me. “You fucking knew and let this sham marriage go ahead,” he spits. “You’re just as fucking bad as they are.’
“I weighed up my options and went with the one that gave me a better chance at survival. I’m nothing like them. I’m a fucking survivor.”
He shakes his head, a promise deep in his eyes. “Not tonight, you’re not.”
His hand tightens on my arm while his body presses harder against mine, keeping me pinned. He reaches for the top of his pants and throws the gun to the floor, freeing it so he can unzip them while nuzzling his face into my neck and breathing me in. “I’ll be visiting my lawyer first thing in the morning and getting this shit annulled, but I won’t be leaving empty-handed. You’ve all fucked me over and now it’s my turn to get what I’m owed.”
His dick is pulled out of his pants and I feel his hand moving up and down his length, making himself hard. I try to scream out and push him off but his hand is pressed against my face, covering my nose and making it impossible to breathe.
Fuck. This is not a situation I want to be in.
The silk robe is pushed up as he tries to force my legs apart, but it won’t be happening. Not now, not tonight, and especially not again.
My fist pumps around the knife and I struggle with what to do. I’ve dreamt of watching this knife sink into Lucien’s body, I’ve imagined the look on his face, and relished in the thought of watching him drown in his own blood. I’ve prepared for it and know that despite the darkness that will cloud my soul, I’ll be okay, but can I take someone else’s life?
Do I have what it takes to sink the blade through his chest? Do I have the strength to allow that kind of torture into my mind? What happens after? Do I have nightmares about what I’ve done or do I sleep peacefully knowing another monster is gone from this world?
Knowing how this is going to go if I don’t act now, I put the thoughts to the back of my mind. No matter what the consequences, nothing could be worse than having another man force himself on me. In fact, I think I’d even welcome the dreams and the heaviness on my soul because I know with Slade in my life, standing by my side, I’m going to be okay.
With that resolve, I suck it up.
I quickly begin to run out of oxygen and I know that if I don’t act now, I’m screwed…literally.
Marcus gets my leg up over his hip and as his hand reaches between my legs, my blade soars.
My knife is jammed up under his ribcage, so deep I feel his stomach against my skin.
I suck in a breath as his eyes go wide.
Holy fuck, I just stabbed a man. What have I done?
I stand like a statue as Marcus stumbles away from me, my father’s knife protruding from his stomach.
Blood instantly begins to soak his white dress shirt as we gape at each other. Him in shock and me absolutely terrified of the monster I’ve just become.
I stabbed a man.
I got my knife and I slammed it into his body.
He was right, I am just as bad as them.
Marcus stumbles a few more steps, his breath coming in jagged, rough gasps as I hear a gurgling in the back of his throat. He begins to choke on his own blood as tears stream down my face.
He’s going to die.
I just killed a man.
“Help,” he begs as he falls to his knees, reaching for me with weak, pathetic attempts but I don’t dare move. I can’t, no matter how hard I try. I need to save him. I need to know that I haven’t just sentenced a man to death. He might have been a monster who was only second away from raping me, but I’m not God. I’m not a judge standing before a full courthouse. Who am I to decide if Marcus Mahony should live or die?
What have I done?
The tears continue streaming down my face, soaking into the silk robe and probably destroying it.
My hands shake at my sides.
I’m a murderer.
Marcus begins to give up as his body collapses to the floor, the knife pointing right at me like a sign to the rest of the world pointing me out as his murderer.
I have to do something. I go to make my way to him when a loud booming laugh echoes down the hallway, making my head snap up as Marcus groans and gurgles on his own blood. “My, oh my,” Lucien bellows. “How the tables have turned.”
He steps up beside me and looks down at the struggling man before crouching down with a sick smirk. His eyes roam up and down Marcus’ body, taking in the blood staining the polished, hardwood floors which Maria had redone two years ago. “Well, shit, Marcus,” Lucien laughs. “You’re destroying my wife’s prized floors.”
He reaches over and curls his hand around the knife. “Here, let me give you a hand with that.” Marcus’ eyes go wide as Lucien savagely twists the blade before yanking it out and wiping the blood on his pant leg
.
Lucien shakes his head as Marcus’ eyes grow heavy, quickly losing his battle. I don’t doubt that Lucien understands why I did it, after all, the guy’s lifeless dick is staring up at us. He straightens up and turns to look at me as Marcus takes his final breath, completely bleeding out before me.
“I didn’t think you had it in you, princess,” Lucien beams as though this is some kind of proud father moment. He takes my hand and presses the knife into it as I stare at him in horror, absolutely disgusted with myself for my actions. “You know, I’m even going to let you keep this. You deserve it.”
I look down at the knife that used to remind me of my father’s protectiveness but now all I see is the blood on my hands. “What did I do?” I whisper.
Lucien squeezes my shoulder, not fazed at all by the dead man in the hallway. “Oh, don’t worry about him,” Lucien tells me. “You just handled a very big problem for me, and for that, I won’t even tell the police how he died.”
“What? I…”
“Do you understand what this means?” he questions, his eyes shimmering with a wicked excitement.
I shake my head, not understanding a damn thing.
“You’re still his wife and with the ‘legalities’ of your nuptials, no prenup was put in place. It’s all yours, Skylah, every last cent is yours and because of that… You’re. Mine.”
Chapter 15
My old bedroom door is slammed behind me as the panic begins to rise. How is it possible that in the space of 24 hours, I leave a rapist to be married to another one, only to kill him and be returned to the OG rapist with millions of dollars and a promise to never see the light of day?
This is so fucked up.
I killed a man and have millions of dollars which Lucien is going to take from me. Hell, if he doesn’t kill me, hoping that what’s mine will go to him, he’ll either tell the cops what I did and have me sent to prison or keep me locked up as his sex slave and steal it all to build an even bigger empire.
Though, what’s even more fucked up is that he gave me my knife back as some kind of reward. What kind of maniac does that? He must have been too overwhelmed with joy to realize what the hell he was doing.
Lucien said he was going to bed and come morning, we’re going to discuss how this is going to work, but whatever his sick plans are, I know I’m not going to like it.
I bet this was part of his plan all along. Kill off the millionaire and take all of his assets, businesses, and pride. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wrote this shit into the fine print of their ‘marry off Skylah’ contract.
It’s after five in the morning and I’m fucking exhausted. All I want to do is climb into bed and pretend this night never happened. Hell, I want to pretend this whole lifetime never happened, but without that, I wouldn’t remember the good, and fuck, over the last six months there has been so much good.
Knowing sleep is never going to come, I start rifling through my closet and pull on some decent clothes, not once letting the knife slip from my hand. Who knows when I’m going to need this thing? It’s been my lifesaver so many times before but right now, it feels so heavy in my hand.
It’s stained with Marcus’ blood and I fear it’s something I’ll never be able to put behind me. I’m not glad that I did it, but I’m relieved that he’s dead. I’m sure that makes me a bad person.
I find some comfortable clothes which are rare in this hell hole and drop down against the wall, refusing to sleep in that bed. Back in Aston Creek, my closet was filled with nothing but comfortable clothing, but here, it’s a different story.
I stare at the door, unable to clear my mind.
It was my eighteenth birthday and instead of celebrating, I killed a man.
I have to get out of here. This place is turning me into someone I don’t recognize and that scares me more than the memory of what I just did.
I look down at the knife and spin it between my fingers. Usually, when I can’t sleep, I draw but I’m only just now realizing how long it’s been. I’d give anything to be able to lose myself in my art. It used to be an escape, somewhere I could go to remember my parents and daydream about Slade, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe now it’s just a way to try and pretend the real world doesn’t exist.
What am I going to do? If I stay here any longer, I know I’ll be next on the hit list. Lucien can’t resist that kind of money. Combined with what he already has, it will launch him into billionaire status and a man like Lucien with that kind of power is a man I don’t want to know.
Having me stick around is just another obstacle for him to jump over to get what he wants, but unfortunately for him, he’s going to have to wait until everything is finalized. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since saying ‘I do.’ Not to mention, the world doesn’t even know he’s dead yet, but I’m sure they will have their suspicions. There are probably laws in place to prevent this kind of shit, but I don’t know. People would claim it was a scam and any judge would agree with them. It’s never going to happen and when it doesn’t, Lucien will find a way to blame it on me
I have to get out of here, but how?
I’m well and truly locked in here, but if I was in Blake’s room, I’d be able to jump out of the window and at least fall into the grass below. Out of my window is an entertaining system that would surely see my death in the form of a wicked electrocution if I were to jump. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes I wonder if death is the easy option, but now that I know Slade is alive, there’s nothing I want more than to be in his arms.
The knife continues spinning between my fingers when I look down at it. How could I be so stupid? The solution is right in front of my face. I’ve run before. I can do it again.
Flying from my window is instant death, but Blake’s window is my way out and if I can’t go through the door to get there, then I’ll make my own fucking door.
I spin around on the floor and glance up at the massive wall before me. Blake’s bedroom is on the other side of this wall and I don’t care what it takes to get through it, I’m doing it.
Lucien and Maria are both in bed, right over the other end of the house and after a day like today, I’m sure they’ll be sleeping like the living dead. But despite that, I won’t be making a damn noise.
I fly to my feet, my will to fight even stronger than the moment I saw Slade’s face. I’m going home and I’m going home tonight. Nothing will stop me. I don’t even care if I have to run the whole way there. I’ll be returning to Aston Creek to Shaylee’s loving smile, Daniella’s warm hugs, Damian’s sarcastic comments, and Nessa’s snappy attitude. I’ll be heading straight for the hospital to check on Blake while Slade stands by my side, promising to never let me out of his sight again.
Fuck, I can just imagine it. I’ve never wanted anything so bad in my life.
Without wasting another second, I press the tip of my trusty knife against the drywall and shove it in. It’s not exactly the easiest thing to do. It takes a lot of strength to break through this shit. I’d just stab it straight through if I wasn’t so terrified of making a sound, but I am and I won’t risk it.
If Lucien catches me trying to break out of here, I’m done for. Too much is at stake and now that I’ve seen that vision in my head of my friends and family, I’ll be stopping at nothing to get it. I don’t care what I have to do to get there, as long as I get there in the end. To me, that’s all that matters.
With the knife protruding from the wall, I push it down, trying to slice right through it, but it’s a challenge. My hands turn red, but I’m not giving up. I want this too bad.
I somehow manage to get it to the bottom before giving it a hard tug and releasing it from the wall. I spend the next ten minutes trying to make another one and then finally, I start to get somewhere.
I cut out a hole just big enough for me to squeeze through and am thankful that I’ve found a piece of wall that doesn’t have a thick piece of wood through it. I start working on the other side, scrunching up my face at the s
mell of the old insulation inside the walls.
Half an hour later, I step through the wall into Blake’s room, knowing he’ll get a kick out of this. I glance around. I love this room, but now’s not the time for a trip down memory lane.
I go straight for the window, tucking the knife into my pocket. I slide the window open, cringing at the chilly bite in the air as I step up onto the ledge.
I have one shot at this.
My heart races as I look down. It’s now or never.
That resolve pulses through my veins and clenching my eyes, I jump, landing in the grass with a hard thud. My ankle twists under the pressure and I fall to my knees, cringing with the pain as I cradle my ankle.
Tear spring to my eyes, making me feel like a weak bitch.
What am I doing sitting in the manicured grass crying about a sore ankle? I’m out. I need to run before they realize I’m gone. I need to put as much distance between me and this place as possible.
With that thought, I get to my feet and run, doing my best to ignore the pain. Hell, I was so fucking focused on getting out of there that I didn’t even bother with shoes or a hoodie. My feet are going to get scratched up within seconds but what are a few scratches when your life is on the line?
I don’t stop. Not when I get to the main gate, not when I pass Luce’s home, and not when I reach the outskirts of town.
I can’t risk staying here. My head is telling me to turn back and go to Luce’s place to where I can have a warm shower and sleep in a bed that hopefully smells like Slade, but my gut is telling me to keep running.
Luce’s home is going to be the first place Lucien looks and as much as I don’t want to bring that down on her, I have no choice. She’ll understand and after tearing her place apart, he’ll realize that she doesn’t know where I am. He’ll leave her alone and if he doesn’t, she has her father who will take care of her.
As for me, I’m just going to keep running until I can’t physically keep moving. I have to.
Hours pass by the time I reach an old gas station at least ten miles out of town. It looks like the kind of place junkies come to get their fix but I honestly couldn’t give a shit. An armed man could come at me right now and I’d probably tell him to go and get fucked. I’ve faced worse than this shit. Hell, I could handle a place like this in my sleep.
Real Girl: Aston Creek High (Book 4) Page 11