Page 28 of Fighting Shadows
He doesn’t say anything, stares at me for a little too long with untrustworthy eyes, then bends down and unlatches the shackle.
Strange Girl lets out a shuddering breath, the rattle in her chest a little too loud for me to put this plan off for any longer.
So, as I walk to the bathroom like a good little prisoner, I go through the plan in my head and prepare myself to knock my dad unconscious so we can get out of here.
The door shuts behind me. Thankfully, I’m allowed some privacy as he waits on the other side of the door.
The only thing that would be heavy enough to do any damage is the white porcelain cistern cover.
Opening the narrow window to try to distract him when he enters and make him think I’ve escaped, I pry my fingers under the edge of the cover and lift it gingerly, careful to try not to make any noise that will make Charlie suspicious. Wincing when the porcelain scrapes against the edge as I finally get it free, I watch the door for any signs he heard something and breathe out a sigh of relief when I realize I'm in the clear.
Testing the weight of it in my hand as I give it a swing, it’s heavy but not enough to kill him if I hit it over his head. Maybe a concussion? But I mean, the asshole has tied me up here for days, and I’m supposed to be his son.
Positioning myself behind the door, I grip my hands around the cool porcelain and try not to drop it as my hands are slick with sweat.
I’ve never hurt anyone before, the idea making me sick, but I’ve become attached to my Strange Girl in the bed, and I want her to fucking live. Steeling myself, I call out for Charlie and pray he doesn’t notice me in the mirror as he walks in.
The bathroom door creaks open, and his salt-and-pepper hair is the first thing I see as he pokes his head in. When he doesn’t see me, I watch with immense satisfaction as his eyes widen with panic when he sees the open window and storms in without checking around the door frame for me or noticing that the toilet tank is now on show.
I close the door while he tries to look out of the window and walk on silent feet towards him. I'm thankful I’m only in socks, and then I swing the lid down as hard as I can.
The lid doesn’t break, and apparently, neither does he, as he charges at me with blood dripping from his head.
“You stupid little fuck!” he shouts, his face red from anger and a vein protruding from his neck, his arms wrapping around my body as he rams me into the wall. My head bounces off the mirror that hangs from the wall, the glass shattering from the impact and cutting into my skin.
“Stop being a fucking psycho!” I shout back, attempting to dislodge myself so I can fight back, and I refuse to drop my only weapon.
“She’s mine!” he roars, spit flying everywhere, “No one is taking her from me! I’d rather she died than go back to being a whore for those men!”
“She’s not yours!” I shout, giving him one final shove off of me, and then I swing the lid over my head and down onto his with as much strength as I can muster.
The sickening cracking sound echoes off of the tiled walls as his skull splits open, his body crumpling to the floor. I stand there staring at his lifeless body, terrified that I’ve just killed someone.
It's not until I see his chest rise that I finally take a breath and move into action. It’s been too long since I set eyes on Strange Girl, and I feel too antsy for my liking.
Dropping the lid to the floor, I wince as it finally decides to break, and pieces skid across the tiles, a massive piece smacking Charlie in the face. Blood from his head starts to pool around his face, and if I weren’t so worried about being a murderer, I would leave him to drown in it.
Curling my arms under his, I drag him from the room, his blood leaving a trail as I drag him down to the room and shackle him to the bed as he did to me.
I can’t find a key on his body as I search, and I don’t have time to look for possible places where it could be lost. Strange Girl takes another shuddering breath, her body now struggling to bring in oxygen like it needs to.
Double-checking the shackle and its chain, I ensure he’s locked in tight enough that he won’t be able to follow us until we get her to a hospital, and I can contact the police to collect him.
Part of me struggles to leave him; the honor code I swore to when I became a doctor tells me that I should be taking him with us, but the other part of me. The part that watched as he assaulted Strange Girl and knows now that this was never a love story and is a nightmare for her whispers in the back of my mind to leave him here to rot and never send anyone here for him.
Pushing him to the back of my mind, I stand over Strange Girl’s unconscious body and try to figure out how to get her out of here.
“Fuck my life,” I mutter, scooping her into my arms. Her body is weightless; her two weeks without much food has had a severe effect on her body, and I hate him for it.
I don’t know this girl; I have no connections to her, but I know that I was brought here to free her from Charlie’s grasp. Somewhere no one should ever be.
I cradle Strange Girl to my chest and leave the room of horrors she’s been subjected to, even when she’s had no idea what has been done to her. I can feel her breath on my neck as I carry her down the hallway, not paying attention to anything other than the girl in my arms and the plan to get out of here.
I just hope that the keys are still in my truck and that I can get her to the hospital in time.
Swinging the front door open, I thank whoever is listening that it wasn’t locked and step out into the fresh air for the first time in days.
I don’t make it more than two steps toward my truck, which is still in the driveway when six hulking figures decked out in bulletproof vests and very much armed come barrelling through the trees.
