I backed away.
Every step I took toward my backpack, my heart pounded harder.
He seemed to be plummeting faster into his nightmares.
His legs flailed outward. His lips tore wide as he silently screamed. He choked on air, his arms swooping up to attack something only he could see. “You’ll die tonight.”
Hurry.
Quietly, even though he paid no attention to me, I unzipped the main compartment of my bag and pulled out another length of climbing rope.
An orange-and-green-speckled cord that boasted the ability to hold hundreds of pounds of dead weight. The instructions hadn’t said anything about being suitable at tying someone up, but if it was strong enough to catch a person as they fell from a cliff, it would hold a man in the throes of a concussed aberration.
“Run, Quell. Do what I say!” He continued to buck and moan, completely hostage to his mind.
Unravelling the rope, I created another lasso so I could grab his arms and knot them together quickly. I didn’t want to be in striking distance now he’d lost himself entirely to whatever he saw.
My heart drummed in my ears as I forced myself to return to him, gritting my teeth as he let out another soul-crushing cry.
His chest shot off the floor as if he’d been electrified, then fell backward. His arms landed by his sides, his head turned to the left with hair draped over his cheek and eyes.
Now.
Quickly.
Dropping to my haunches, I grabbed his left hand and inserted it into the rope. Leaning over him, I repeated with his right, drawing the lasso closed and securing a knot.
I couldn’t catch a proper breath as I fell backward, feeling like I’d just betrayed him even though he was the one who’d kept me prisoner for days.
Having him secure gave me a false sense of power and tears came hotter for his situation. Was this the throes of impending death? Was his brain bleeding? Would he have a stroke and pass away?
Needing to touch him, to somehow find a way to breakthrough his pain, I scooted closer to his head and ran my hands through his knotty hair.
I pulled upward gently, raising his neck and shoulders to place him carefully on my lap.
However, he shot upright.
He swayed in the blankets.
He blinked at the library around us.
And then, he did something that ensured, no matter how much time passed, no matter how much pain he granted or blood he spilled, I would never curse him, betray him, or hate him.
I would only love him.
Love a broken beast who’d survived so much.
CHAPTER FIVE
I WORE WAR PAINT created with tears, blood, and vomit.
Their tears, their blood, my vomit.
The moment Storymaker commanded us up the stairs, reeling off bedroom numbers where we were each to serve, my heart hadn’t stopped galloping a thousand beats a minute.
I’d dutifully trudged up the steps, linking my fingers with Quell, and giving Maliki a grimace of encouragement. We were well-trained. Well reminded. We didn’t deviate or pause.
Silently, we all broke away as we reached our respective bedrooms, enslaved to the end as we closed doors on our misery.
Behind those closed doors the sounds of pleased hellos and sleezy welcomes sounded, knotting my guts into snarls of pain.
It was excruciating to let Quell slip through my fingers as she reached her bedroom. She caught my gaze. She nodded once, stoic and so, so brave. “It’s okay, Kas. I’ll see you later, okay?”
I wanted so fucking much to hug her, snatch her, run away with her.
To run away with all of my family.
But my only option was to nod and let her go. To willingly say goodbye as she stepped into another night of rape.
I was the last to branch off from the corridor.
Alone at the end, I listened to the final snick of a door closing and took a second to prepare.
I would either see my family again or I wouldn’t.
This would work or it would fail.
Regardless, I was most likely dead tonight because even if I succeeded, I doubted I’d live to see sunrise.
You sure you want to risk this?
Risk them?
My jaw clenched as the sound of male laughter came and went. A laugh of a paedophile who probably already had Nyx bound and naked upon his bed.
Yes, I’m sure.
I would rather we all die tonight than endure anymore of this.
If I had to kill everyone, including my family to be free, then so be it.
Touching my blade one last time, I braced my shoulders, turned toward the door, and stepped over the threshold to serve Mr. and Mrs. Willby.
“You’re late, my boy.” Mr. Willby stood by the fireplace, his cock already hard thanks to a blue pill he always popped. His nakedness was obscene with the glowing flames highlighting a beer belly, huge balls, and a red-angry erection.
“Don’t berate him, dear.” Mrs. Willby lay on the bed in a pose she thought was seductive. Her sheer nightgown was open, revealing a pudgy breast, huge nipple, and a belly button piercing she should’ve removed decades ago. “We’re so glad you’re here, Kassen.”