Page 107 of Bound By Threads
But I refuse to die here.
Not while she’s still in danger. While he still breathes.
My fingers twitch first, scraping against blood-soaked carpet.My blood.
My ribs scream, one arm limp at my side, but the other moves. Just enough. I roll, dragging my ruined body forward.
Pain lashes through me like barbed wire every time I move.
I can’t scream. I don’t have the air for it.
I drag myself out of the room, down the hotel hallway. Careful to listen for his footsteps in case he comes back to finish the job.
Every second feels like a war.
My vision blacks out once, twice. I force it back.
Keep going.
Crawl, limp, stagger.
Blood pours down my side, hot and steady. I don’t know how much I’ve lost.
Too much… but not enough to stop me.
The cold hits me like a slap when I shove open the hotel’s back exit. The parking lot is mostly empty. A car hums in the distance. Somewhere, a siren wails.
I collapse against the side of my car, blood streaking the door as I fumble with the key fob.
The lights blink. I slide down onto the asphalt, nearly passing out again.
No. Not yet.
I grit my teeth and pull the door open.
Collapsing into the car seat, I start the engine.
One hand on the wheel, one hand on my side. I don’t bother with the seatbelt. If I crash, I crash. It’ll be faster that way.
Lottie’s house isn’t far.
Twenty minutes—fifteen if I don’t stop for red lights.
I slam my foot down on the gas, and the car screeches out of the lot like a beast let off its leash. The world around me becomes a blur of lights and shadows, trees flying past, the road a ribbon I can barely focus on.
Every breath is becoming a struggle. Every heartbeat feels borrowed.
But I’ll spend every last one getting to her.
If I die, it won’t be in that room or in this car.
It’ll be at her door, telling her he’s coming for her.
That I fucked up again, and let him know she’s alive…
Or in front of him.
I’ll drag him into hell with me.
