Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series)

by Vera Hollins

  “Yes.” I exhaled, barely containing my voice that wanted to shout out my joy.

  “Now cut mine.”

  My heart pounded faster as I took the knife from him. If they returned now… I pushed the blade against the rope, making sure it didn’t come in contact with his skin. I managed to cut it, and he freed himself.

  He smiled at me. “Thanks.”

  Next were the ropes around our ankles, which he cut in a few quick moves, and we were free.

  I stood up. “What are we going to do now?”

  “You won’t do anything except run away. I’m going to deal with them.”

  “What? No. You absolutely can’t do that. There are three of them!”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, the back door is right behind the staircase. They were cocky enough not to lock that door”—he pointed at the basement door—“so that’s one less problem to deal with. I’m going to make sure the coast is clear for you to—”

  I grabbed his forearms, getting colder and colder. “Do you even hear me, Blake? We should run away together! We’ll find someone with a phone and call the cops.”

  “Jessie.” He took my hands in his. “I can’t miss this opportunity. I can’t just run away when I can finally get my revenge.”

  “No, Blake. Please. Think about this. Please. I’m begging you not to do it. Let’s escape together and call the cops on them. They will get a long time in prison for what they did to Emma.”

  He just watched me for a long time, and each new second was agonizing because my hope clashed with hurt, which consumed more of me. If he wouldn’t reconsider…

  “Or…or you can just shoot them in the leg or something,” I added, getting desperate. “You can injure them badly. Yes. You can injure them and they will, like, bleed a lot and it will be satisfying, right?” I was babbling now, trying anything I could to make him change his mind. “You can make them suffer by torturing them long and slow, and it will still be cruel, right? There are a lot of ways to torture them—”

  He squeezed my hands. “Jessie—”

  “Please,” I whispered. A tear slid down my cheek. “Please don’t leave me.”

  He cupped my cheek and brushed my tear away with his thumb, looking at me with sadness that was unparalleled. “I don’t want to leave you. I want to make you happy.”

  “Then make me happy. Give us a chance. There are other ways to get your revenge. Please, Blake.”

  “Jessie, I…” He dropped his hand from my face and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what to do. I have no fucking clue.”

  “Live,” I said. “Find a way to break away from your past and live. And I’ll be here. I’ll wait for you to come out and help you the rest of the way.” I placed my hand over his heart, a few more tears escaping my eyes. “I’ll help you see that you have so much more to live for. You can be happy again. I’ll do my best to make you happy.”

  He studied my face in the long seconds that ticked by, his heart thumping madly against my hand. I could hardly breathe. I fiercely hoped I was getting through to him.

  He wiped one tear from my face, then another. And another…

  “Okay,” he said, after what seemed like forever.

  My heart stopped. “Okay?”

  “Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

  Relief unlike anything before surged through me, and I pulled him into my embrace, wrapping my arms around his waist tightly.

  “Thank you!” I said into his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “Save your thanks for later. Let’s go before they return.”

  He took my hand and headed for the door. The pounding of my heart sounded too loud to my ears as he reached for the door handle, and a hundred bad scenarios passed through my mind as I waited for him to turn it. I exhaled a long breath when he opened the door and there was no one on the other side.

  We climbed up the stairs to the first floor then he stopped at the top step. “Wait for me here while I check if the back door is locked,” he whispered, releasing my hand.

  A grim thought that it was my last time to hold Blake’s hand flashed through my mind, and I stood glued to the ground. This is bad.

  He peeked around the wooden banister to look down the hallway we’d come from and treaded silently to the back door, which now seemed too far away. My body was itching to move, to check if they were anywhere close—to rush Blake out of that door—but I didn’t do anything, counting seconds that seemed like hours.

  He tried the door, but it was locked. Bad. This is so bad. Beside that door, the hallway was a dead end, which meant the only way out was how we’d gotten here in the first place. We would have to pass the living room, which was connected to the hall, so there was no way for us to leave unnoticed.

  “What now?” I mouthed as I took a step closer to him.

  “Wait,” he mouthed back, raising his hand in a stop motion. “I’ll look around for another way. Don’t move.”

  “No, Blake—” I started, but he didn’t listen, walking in the direction of the living room.

  I fisted my hands. I knew he shouldn’t go there. They were going to see him and—

  A crash coming from the living room made my blood run cold.

  “Blake,” I whimpered.

  Another crash ripped through the air, and I darted around the banister to the sounds of fighting and grunts. I’d barely made it two steps when Isaac came out of the living room and rushed toward me with his gun. With a scream, I bolted around the banister and down the stairs to the basement, panic setting my lungs on fire when he fired the gun at me.

  I screamed again, staggering into the basement. What could I do? I couldn’t escape! In just a few seconds, he would reach me and kill me… My eyes darted frantically around the empty room—

  The ropes!

  But…

  No, I had to do it.

  I grabbed the rope and stopped next to the open door at the last possible moment. Isaac rushed inside, unable to see me hiding to the side, and I acted on instinct.

  I threw the rope around his neck and pulled as hard as I could, adrenaline flooding through my system.

  “Bitch,” he choked out as he elbowed me in the stomach.

  I was left without air as a sickening pain burst forth in my abdomen, and I almost let go of the rope. Pushing through it, I yanked the rope even harder, wrestling with him as he tried to take me down. His choking sounds mixed with my loud grunts when he tried to elbow me again, but I barely dodged it, and the rope cut deep into my skin when I pulled it even harder.

  He choked and spurted, backing us up. “I… Kill…” He rammed me into a wall, trapping me between him and the firm surface as shouting and crashing rang out from the living room.

  His elbow found my stomach again, which knocked all the air out of me. I cried out, nauseated by an unbearable pain. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was about to release the rope, but then he collapsed head first, hitting the floor unconscious, and I almost ended up sprawled on top of him.

  I regained my balance. My hands still yanked at the rope, my mind refusing to accept the possibility that he was unconscious, thinking he must be playing tricks on me…

  But seconds passed, and he didn’t move. I released the rope and slumped down to my knees as the horror of what I’d done surged through me. Was he dead? No, he couldn’t be dead.

  I pressed my fingers to his neck and felt a faint but present pulse. I cried out in relief. He was alive—

  A shattering scream cut through the air, and my stomach dropped.

  Blake. I had to get to Blake immediately.

  I supported myself against the floor to stand up, but immense pain ripped through my abdomen, bringing tears to my eyes. I wheezed, telling myself to ignore the pain and exertion, and forced myself up to my feet until I spotted a bulge in the back pocket of Isaac’s jeans that looked like a phone.

  I could use it to call the police! Yes.

 
There were more sounds of crashing, and I forced myself to move faster. Blake, hang on.

  “Please don’t wake up soon. Please, please, please,” I whispered to Isaac and pushed my hand inside his pocket. Yes! It was a phone.

  I dialed 911 with trembling fingers and forced myself up to my wobbly feet as I listened for any new sounds from the living room, dreading seeing Bobby Q or Lawrence at any moment. I hope Blake is okay. I hope he isn’t banged up or…or dead. I hope—

  “911, what’s your emergency?”

  “Please, help! My friend and I have been kidnapped, and there are three of them. They have guns. I…I think my friend is hurt. Please, send the police immediately.” I talked a mile a minute, my heart rate through the roof as I stared at Isaac’s unmoving body. He could move at any moment…

  “Do you know where you are?”

  I gave her the address, and then she asked for more details. I had to repeat myself a few times because most of my words came out jumbled.

  “Please hurry,” I whined.

  “The police are on the way,” she told me. “Stay put and wait for them—”

  The gun went off in the living room, and a scream lodged in my throat.

  Blake.

  The phone slipped out of my hand and fell down.

  “Miss? Hello? Miss?” I could hear the dispatcher calling me as I reached for Isaac’s gun on the floor. I rushed out of the basement, ignoring the pain in my stomach. The weapon felt strange in my hand, heavy with the added weight of the silencer, and I didn’t know what I was going to do with it.

  I halted and peered around the wall into the living room. Blake and Bobby Q were fighting in the middle of the space, the chairs, coffee table, lamp, and gun thrashed around them. Several bruises already tainted their faces. Their punches were quick and brutal, and my stomach curled up into a tight knot when Bobby Q threw a one-two punch at Blake, making him stagger against the wall.

  “You’re done for, Jones,” Bobby Q taunted.

  I raised the gun at Bobby Q as I stepped into the room, but something in the corner caught my eye. Lawrence was slumped against the wall on the floor, unconscious, with Blake’s belt knife stuck in his stomach. A huge amount of blood soaked his gray shirt and pooled around him, and for a moment, I couldn’t move, fearing he was dead. I tore my gaze away from him.

  “D-Don’t move,” I told Bobby Q.

  He snapped his head to look at me, which was enough of a distraction for Blake to close in on him and punch him in the jaw. Bobby Q toppled over the couch and dropped to the floor, but he quickly scrambled to get up, and I aimed at him again.

  “Don’t move,” I repeated. I hoped he couldn’t see just how much my hands were shaking. “If you move, I’ll shoot you.” He grew still.

  Blake supported himself against the back of the couch, panting. “Are you okay?”

  My face distorted when I saw blood dripping from his mouth down his chin. “Yes.”

  “Where’s Isaac?” Bobby Q asked me.

  “Passed out in the basement.” I looked at Blake. “I called the police, and they’re on their way.” Bobby Q reached for the gun on the floor. “Don’t move!”

  He smirked and retracted his arm, wiping some blood off the corner of his mouth. “You won’t shoot me. You don’t even know how to hold a gun.” He pointed at the gun I held, and I straightened my grasp around it, holding it with both hands.

  “Maybe she won’t,” Blake said. Something dark converged around him as he picked up the gun from the floor. “But I will.” He aimed it at Bobby Q.

  I let out a small gasp because of the sudden look on his face. I could feel the darkness that was unlike anything I’d ever felt from him—not even in those days when he bullied me the most—and it was like I was seeing a completely different person. My fear of what he could do returned, only it was so much stronger. This wasn’t the same Blake. This guy…this guy was capable of killing a person.

  This was his chance to avenge Emma, and now, with a gun in his hand, he had the perfect opportunity to deal with his kidnappers. I looked at Lawrence. I couldn’t see his chest moving. What if Blake hadn’t pushed that knife into his stomach in self-defense? What if he had been trying to kill him?

  “Blake, what are you going to do?” I asked in a panicky tone when he took a few menacing steps toward Bobby Q. His face was filled with undiluted hatred, his teeth bared as he hovered above him. My stomach coiled with increasing tension. “Blake, the police will come and handle him. So please…”

  He didn’t even listen to me, taking another step toward Bobby Q, the end of the gun only inches away from his face.

  Bobby Q’s cocky expression was finally gone. “Don’t do anything rash, okay?” he told him. He could see it in Blake’s eyes too. He could see that Blake was capable of finishing him off in an instant. “You don’t actually want to kill me. So put down that gun and—”

  Blake pressed the gun against Bobby Q’s forehead and snarled at him. “I want to kill you,” he said in a voice I didn’t recognize. “I want to blow up your brain just like Isaac did to Emma. I want to kill all of you.”

  I took a shaky step toward him. “Blake, please, put the gun down.”

  Blake nudged Bobby Q’s forehead with the gun. “No. He needs to die. All of them need to die.”

  My heartbeat was deafening in my ears. “No, don’t do this. You’ve decided not to do it. They will be jailed for life. They will be punished.”

  Blake growled. “No. That’s not enough.”

  “Listen to the girl, Jones. Be smart.”

  “Smart? That’s rich coming from you. How many deaths do you have on your conscience?”

  I took another step toward him, Isaac’s gun hanging loosely in my hand. “Don’t, Blake. You’re not like him. You’re so much more than that. Please think about yourself, your future. Think about me. Don’t do it. Please, don’t do it.”

  He just glared at Bobby Q as he stood rigidly; his hand clenched the handle of the gun more tightly as his finger twitched over the trigger. His muscles were quivering, and I expected him to shoot any second…

  Too quickly for me to comprehend, the gun was taken out of my hand and pressed against my temple.

  “Drop the gun, or she’s dead,” Isaac said hoarsely as he grabbed my shoulder to keep me in place.

  Blake’s eyes widened at Isaac’s gun. He met my gaze then looked at the gun again, and his face twisted with anguish and fear that matched mine. I grew queasy with fear that made my limbs cold. It was limitless.

  “Okay,” Blake choked out. “Okay. Just don’t hurt her.” He dropped the gun to the floor and stepped away from Bobby Q, and for a second, our eyes locked on each other.

  Isaac aimed his gun at Blake and pulled the trigger.

  I screamed. The world narrowed to the bullet that hit Blake’s head, just like it had hit Emma, and the horrid and ghastly sight punched the air out of me.

  Blake dropped to the ground and remained there motionless, dark blood streaming from the top of his head down his face. Just like Emma. Dead.

  “NO,” I screamed, sinking to my knees. He’d been shot in the head. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t moving at all. “No, no, no, no!”

  The police sirens reverberated in the distance, but I couldn’t feel anything but this crushing feeling in my chest that spread through all of me and hammered more and more pain into me. He was dead. Blake was dead. He’s dead. Dead. Dead. DEAD.

  “Shit. The fucking cops,” Bobby Q said, sounding like his voice came from the end of a dark tunnel. His face was blurry as I looked at him, just like the rest of my surroundings as the edges of my vision went white. “I’ll go get the car ready, and you get rid of the girl.”

  He ran out of the room, and I looked at Isaac, unusually apathetic as shock detached me from reality.

  Isaac hovered above me. “Sorry, sweety pie, but play nice in heaven, okay?” He winked and raised his gun at me, and I closed my eyes, too empty.

  Blake is dead.


  And I’m going to die too.

  The gunshot rang out, followed by a scream. I jerked, but there was no pain. I opened my eyes in confusion. Isaac fell to the floor and let go of the gun, blood flowing out of his stomach. I snapped my head at Blake and choked on air. The gun was raised in his hand, pointed in the direction where Isaac had stood a moment before.

  “Blake!”

  He was alive.

  I knocked the gun away from Isaac, who was curled into a ball and holding his stomach as he whined in pain, and then I crawled to Blake, taking in the huge, gruesome wound on the top of his head. The sickening amount of blood trickled from it all over his face, making it unrecognizable. I thought I must have died and was seeing a fantasy. Blake was alive. Fresh tears streamed down my face.

  “Blake, you’re alive,” I croaked, grabbing his shoulders.

  He dropped his arm and looked at me with a faint smile. “You’re okay,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering shut. “Thank fuck.”

  I dug my fingers into his shoulders, feeling like I was going to hyperventilate. “No, Blake. Open your eyes. Don’t close them.”

  The front door burst open, and three officers appeared at the threshold with their guns drawn. “Police!” one of them said, but he stopped himself when he spotted us. “Miss? Are you okay?”

  I took Blake’s hand in mine. “Please, call an ambulance,” I said quickly. “That guy”—I pointed at Isaac—“shot him in the head!”

  The officer said something into his radio and stepped inside with the others, looking around the room. “The ambulance is already here.” His colleague went over to check Lawrence, while the other guy leaned over Isaac.

  “Jessie…” Blake let out, his hand getting colder in mine. “I…I…”

  “Save your strength and don’t talk,” I told him, smiling and brushing my tears away. “You’re going to be all right. Just hang on. The ambulance will get you to the hospital, and you’re going to be okay. I promise. I’m here with you.”

  He struggled to open his eyes, and when he did, the warmth in them undid me, breaking my heart over and over again.

  “You did great, Jessie…you’re so brave.”