Breathe in. Breathe out. Apply pressure. Groan.
Tears stream down my face and I’m forced to bite the back of my arm to muffle my scream as the agony becomes too much.
I repeat the process until there are no bandages left before finding alcohol wipes to quickly clean the dried blood staining my skin. It’s been a few hours since the boys’ last visit and I know my time is limited. If I can at least get out of this room and hide out somewhere long enough to regain some of my energy, I might just have a fighting chance.
Picking up the last alcohol wipe, I hear a soft clatter as something falls to the tiles beneath. Glancing down, I find a small sterile blade that must have been hidden beneath the mess of bandages, wipes, and supplies. My gaze locks on it for a long moment, staring at it as though it’s daring me to pick it up.
I swallow hard and let out another heavy breath, hating the thoughts twisting through my tortured mind.
I can’t. That’s insane. But what choice do I have?
My hands shake as they hover over the small blade, and mustering up every last ounce of drive, I grip it between my fingers and bring it to my mouth. I tear open the thin sterile packaging with my teeth, and before I allow myself to back out of this fucked-up little plan, I dig the blade deep into my arm.
Biting down on my tongue, I will myself not to scream as my hands continue to shake. Blood pools under my bite as the blade tears through the flesh of my arm, slicing painfully through the muscle. Tears stream down my face and I breathe heavily, sharp pants ripping from deep in my throat.
Images of Lucas Miller holding me down begin to surface through my head, his knife digging deep into my skin as my world came crashing down around me, but I push through it, determined to see this through despite the terror pulsing through my veins.
Blood trails down my arm, pooling beneath me, and just when I think I can’t handle it, I feel the small contraceptive device hidden deep within the muscle. Relief swirls through my chest and I drop the blade, frantically searching the small bag for a pair of tweezers.
“Fuck,” I whimper, coming up empty before glancing back down at the mess I’ve just made of my arm. I shake my head, knowing what I have to do, but not having the stomach to do it. I stabbed Marcus in the fucking hand, survived Lucas’ bullshit, and found the courage to shoot my own goddamn father in the knees. If I can do that, then I can do this too.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Letting out a shaky breath, I promise myself that if I somehow make it through this, I’ll splurge on a new McClitoris 3000 and ... I go for it.
Sucking in a loud hiss, my fingers dig into the bloody flesh, feeling around until they finally curl around the little contraceptive rod. Nausea pulses through me as my body grows weaker by the second, and just when I think I can’t go on, I grip onto the small device and yank it out of my arm with a low, pained groan.
The small rod clatters to the ground as my hand slaps over my arm, desperately trying to control the bleeding. “Holy fucking shit,” I breathe, swallowing the blood in my mouth while trying to calm my racing heart. I stare down at it, catching my breath, and as the blood seeps away, I see a small green flashing light staring back at me. Putting myself through that kind of hell was all worth it.
The need to crush the little tracking device floods through me but I leave it alone, kicking it under the table. I can’t risk crushing it and setting off some kind of silent alarm on the boys’ phones. It’s not worth it. For now, I need to get the fuck out of this room.
I drag myself across the small room, leaving a trail of blood in my wake. My hand grips the door handle and I pull it down, letting the door swing open and I fall forward, landing flat on my stomach. I groan low, but I’m one step closer to freedom with the door open. I can’t stop to cry about it now.
Getting my hands and knees under myself, I crawl through the doorway, inching myself through the downstairs area until I come out into the massive ballroom that I once thought was the most impressive room in the castle.
Shuffling across to the side of the room, I pull myself up against one of the many expensive statues lining the room. I bite down on my lip to keep me from groaning in pain, and when I finally get to my feet, I forge ahead, determined more than ever to get the fuck out of here.