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It’s now or never.
I wrench my wrist free of the restraint that he’d failed to clasp and grip the knife tightly behind my back. With all my strength, I bite down as hard as I can on his tongue. The metallic taste of his blood fills my mouth, and he screams out in pain, stumbling back away from me. I spit out a mouthful of his blood on the floor and unsheathe the knife. He looks at me with shock and unbridled rage in his eyes.
“You stupid bitch!” he screams as he lunges for me.
I can’t move much because my legs are tightly secure to the table, but my arms are free as I brace myself for impact. Once he’s on top of me, he rears back and throws his head forward with a grunt, slamming hard into my nose. The air rushes from my lungs in an exhale of agony as I instinctively clutch the blade of the knife tight in my hand. I feel the blood gush from my nostrils, and the amount causes me to choke.
Darien’s heavy frame straddles my body, and I feel the warmth of his breath against my cheek as he leans in close. His dominant hands tighten around my throat, his fingers biting into my skin painfully. Our eyes lock as his grip blocks my ability to breathe, and the malicious grin on his face emboldens me. I grit my teeth and use every ounce of energy I have to thrust my left arm forward. The sharp knife easily buries into the meat of his neck.
I watch as his hands fly to the blade, though he doesn’t remove it like I hoped. The blade is blocking the flow of blood, and he’s still moving too well. He gives me a savage look and lets out a howl and lunges toward me. Right before he reaches me, the door to our left flies open.
Andreas is there, his face a swollen, bloody mess and his chest heaving as he takes in the horrific scene before him. His eyes widen with a mixture of shock and fear as he processes what is happening. Darien pulls away from me and turns to face Andreas, his hand still wrapped around the blade protruding from his neck.
With one swift movement, Darien reaches for the gun sitting on the table next to him and aims it at the center of Andreas’ chest. I watch in horror as he cocks back the hammer and presses his finger against the trigger.
“Andreas, look out!” I scream.
56
Chapter Fifty Six
Andreas
Alana’s piercing scream slices through the room like a knife. I react on instinct and jerk to my left as the gun goes off and buckshot tears holes into the wall where I’d just been standing. The reverberation of the gun causes Darien to lose his balance momentarily. His attention shifts to the knife lodged in his throat.
I take advantage of the opportunity to lunge forward. We collide, causing the weapon he was holding to skid under the table where Alana is bound. Darien tries to overpower me, but I’m relentless in my assault. Once I have the upper hand, he’s weak beneath me. I press my forearm into his throat, and I hear the desperate gasps of air as he struggles to breathe. I pin him to the ground and hold him there with all of my strength, keeping his hands firmly away from the gun.
“Fuck you,” I whisper as I stare into his eyes and reach for the knife Alana planted into his throat.
My hand wraps around the hilt, and Darien’s eyes widen in fear. In one fluid motion, I pull the knife free and blood spurts out of the hole the knife left. With my right hand, I shove the blade into his stomach. A bubbling, choking scream leaves his lips as I push the blade in deeper, twisting the knife as I pull it back out.
I can feel him writhing beneath me as he tries to pull away. Darien’s eyes are wide with panic as he stares up at me in horror, his face turning pale as he loses more blood. I watch as Darien sputters his last few breaths; the life draining from his body. His eyes are unseeing as his face contorts from the pain, but they eventually glaze over.
I breathe a sigh of relief and throw the bloody knife across the room. I slowly and painfully stand and walk toward Alana. She’s slumped back against the table, tears streaming down her face, legs restrained.
“It’s alright, he’s dead,” I tell her, but she doesn’t respond.
I reach down and undo the restraints on her ankles. When she’s free, I pull her to me and cling to her. She trembles as I stroke her hair and whisper, “It’s over.”
We stay that way for what feels like an eternity before I finally move away and take her hand. “Come, we need to find a way out of this house.” She nods and follows me through the corridors until we reach the stairs leading down.
“We need to find the key or a phone so we can get help,” I tell her.
In a frenzy, we rush from room to room looking for something electronic that could connect us to the outside world. We try, unsuccessfully, to open any window or door and come up with nothing after twenty minutes. We’re standing in the small bedroom Darien had intended to keep Alana in, and we’re slowly becoming more and more frustrated with our inability to leave.
“I know Darien has a phone or a computer somewhere. I bet they’re in his bedroom, but that door won’t open,” Alana says.
It’s the first time she’s spoken since I killed Darien. I was worried her mind broke, but the shock is beginning to wear off. Her words remind me of the key that’s in my pocket, and I reach for it earnestly.
“Which one is his bedroom?” I ask.
She gives a subtle nod toward the bedroom across the hall, and together, we walk over and stop in front of it. My hand trembles as I insert the key into the lock, and we both yelp when the lock tumbles over. I slowly turn the doorknob, and we open the door. The room is untidy, small, and filled with clutter. It’s clear that Darien only cleaned the main areas before he kidnapped Alana.
We rummage quickly and quietly through his belongings, and a few minutes later, Alana says, “There’s something under the bed.”
She leans down and pulls out a briefcase. It has Darien’s name monogrammed on the front, and Alana cries when she opens it to find an iPhone and a laptop. The phone powers on, and Alana bypasses the need for Darien’s password by dialing 911.
The line rings twice, and then the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard says, “9-1-1, what’s the nature of your emergency?”
