I turned off the spray and grabbed a towel, drying my body before putting my panties back on along with the shirt he gave me. The bra stayed off, and I was too warm to put my scrub pants back on. Not to mention that I simply didn’t want to put the blood of my friends and coworkers back on.
The mirror was steamed over, obscuring my reflection, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to see the stranger, the ghost of me, anyway.
When I exited, Six was in a pair of jeans and nothing else, the play of light and shadows showing off his cut physique. The view reminded me of the night before and pissed me off that I was somehow still physically attracted to the son of a bitch who ruined my life.
I inched forward, setting my clothes on one of the beds. Staying silent seemed the best bet. I didn’t have anything to say anyway. The surrealness seeped into my skin, causing a floating-like sensation to crawl around my body.
His back was to me as he rifled through one of the bags. My gaze wandered around as I waited for whatever horror was next. I froze when I spotted the first sliver of an out I’d seen since he blasted into my life that day.
On the table sat his gun with the silencer still attached, along with a knife. It looked military, much larger than the average pocket knife, with the blade and handle being one piece. The tip curved up into a sharp point.
I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
That piece of metal could free me.
The gun I could fuck up with, plus I didn’t even know if it was still loaded with as many shots as he got off, but a knife? Anything goes.
I glanced over to Six. He was still facing away, giving me an opportunity. There wasn’t much time, seconds, but it was enough.
I stepped forward and curled my fingers around the handle. As I turned, so did he, and I swung with every bit of strength I could.
His forearm shot out, blocking my attack, the blade tip slicing across his bicep. Before I could pull back and attempt another go, he grabbed hold of my wrist and twisted it, causing my fingers to open and the knife to fall down to the floor.
His lip twitched up into a snarl before he swung his arm out and connected with my face.
I landed hard on the ground, my head ringing as a pain began to throb at my cheek.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His scream pierced through me, causing me to shake.
He stalked toward me, dead eyes watching as I scooted back until I hit the wall.
“Please…” My teeth started chattering as the fear took over.
“You want to live? Is that it?” he asked as he leaned down and picked the knife up.
Hot tears streamed down my face as I forced the sobs back and nodded, my face screwed up. He stepped forward and squatted down in front of me, staring at me.
“You know…” he trailed off and turned the knife tip toward me. He brushed the back edge against my neck, running it lightly against my skin. “One tiny nick, right here.” His cold eyes bored into me. “You’ll be dead in seconds.”
A knock on the door made his dangerous gaze narrow and the tip of the knife to press into my skin. “Not a peep.”
He stood and walked toward the door, picking up his gun from the table on the way and slipping it into his waistband.
I sat, shaking, biting into my hand to keep quiet.
“Yes?” he asked whoever was on the other side of the door, the chain only allowing it to open a few inches.
“Hi, sorry to disturb you,” a woman’s voice said. “My name is Diane, and my husband and I are on his great backroads trip to the Appalachian trail and, well, our car broke down here of all places…” she let out a nervous laugh “…and we’re staying in the room next door.”
With each word his muscles tensed. “And?”
“And, well… Is everything all right? I heard a woman crying and screaming.”
My eyes grew wide, and my heart started beating hard in my chest. Someone heard me. Maybe she could help me.
“Sorry, that was the TV,” he said without missing a beat.
“Are you sure? It sounded so real.”
My heart begged for her to believe the gut that lead her over, to call someone, to help me out of the nightmare I was in.
“Not all porn is girls begging for more.”
“Oh,” the woman said, but before she could say anything else, Six slammed the door and flipped the lock.
He remained where he was, listening. In the absolute silence I could hear her footsteps, her key jingling in the lock, the creak of the door as it opened, then closed with a thud.
I’d been locked in fright, but when he turned back to me, eyes in dangerous slits, an uncontrollable shaking took hold.
It only took him a few quick strides to get back over to me. He squatted down and grabbed on to my hair and pulled, yanking my head back. I reached back, trying to get him to release, my mind zapped blank by the pain.
“Stop,” he hissed between his lock-jawed teeth. “You need to shut the fuck up before I shut you up permanently.”
I tried to snuff out the high-pitched sobs that squeaked out, but there was no controlling my turbulent emotions and fear.
He shook me by the hair, then released me, standing up.