We’d sat on a wharf we had to ourselves and watched the sunset.
And I had let him inside. Because he’d kissed me sweetly. Made all sorts of promises. Because I didn’t know my worth, so I attached it to those kisses and promises.
“I thought this is the best place to take you,” he said. “It’s my secret place after all. The place where you became mine. Where you’ll always be mine.”
He turned off the truck then and got out. I willed my hands to move, despite the fact they were in cuffs. They were in front of me, I could see them, limp and red, blood trickling from where the skin scraped off against metal.
I could wiggle my toes. Slightly. Not enough.
The door opened and I fell, right onto the concrete, without my hands to break my fall, my head took most of the impact. The pain was blinding and immediate.
Warmth trickled down my face, obscuring my vision as a figure stood above me.
I couldn’t see his face, but I knew what the expression would be, the same expression he always wore when he hurt me.
Then I was up, limp in his arms, though my brain was screaming at my limbs to work, to fight.
They did neither. So I was helpless as he walked us down the dock.
It was then I knew exactly what he was doing. What the purpose was here.
It was always going to be the endgame with Robert. He wasn’t done with me. No, not with the white trash whore who’d bested him. He was done when I stopped breathing.
“They’re going to find you,” I said, desperate to use whatever I could to stall him. Until Lance came.
Even though we were in a place that no one knew about. Even though Robert hadn’t used a cell phone that I saw, even though this car was most likely stolen and not traceable.
He’d find a way.
He was a superhero after all.
“You’re not going to get away with this, whatever happens to me,” I hissed as the end of the dock approached.
“I know,” Robert said, surprising me with his lack of delusions of victory. “But that’s okay, I’ll be okay knowing I’m breathing and you’re not.”
We stopped.
At the end of the wharf.
I knew the water wasn’t that deep. Robert and I had gone swimming here before. He’d dunked me playfully, but had kept me under for too long, so I panicked and almost passed out.
That should have been a sign.
But you could dive down to touch the bottom.
“Almost impossible to drown in,” Robert had joked after he’d almost drowned me.
But nothing was impossible.
Especially when you were handcuffed and none of your limbs worked.
Fear clutched my throat at how helpless I was. Robert had my life in his hands.
“And you know the last thing you’re gonna taste before you die?” he asked, squeezing me tight and moving me so my face was by the shadow of his. “Me,” he snarled.
Then he kissed me, brutal, sloppy, invading. His tongue slipped in and I didn’t hesitate to sink my teeth in, biting as hard as I could.
His body jerked and he let out a moan of pain, ripping his lips from mine. I tasted his blood in my mouth, happy that my fight would be the last thing I tasted, if this was really the end.
“Cunt!” he screamed, voice garbled and wet.
Then he threw me.
No ceremony. No long monologue like the villains did in the movies to give the heroes time to get there to save the day.
Nothing.
The water hit me fast and cold.
Though I hadn’t been expecting it, I managed to hold my breath just before I made impact. I sank, immediately, all the way to the bottom. I tried to kick my legs, flail my body, nothing moved.
But I should come back to the surface, shouldn’t I? Humans were buoyant.
I did begin to float up just a little, enough to spark hope. But I stopped somewhere in the water, I had no idea how far I was from the top. But it didn’t matter how close or far I was. I wasn’t there. My limbs didn’t work. My lungs were burning.
But I could see. Everything. Most importantly, I could trace the face of my watch, sparkling above the handcuff at my wrist.
I knew I shouldn’t be able to see this clearly. I knew that I most likely wasn’t seeing this clearly, this was probably some kind of hallucination that my brain conjured to distract me from the fact I was dying.
I didn’t care.
I just stared at the glittering metal, reflecting in the water, and I let it distract me from the burning in my lungs, from the panic in my soul and the breaking of my heart.
The hands were still moving, counting down the moments I had left. Real moments. Not the ones that Lance gave me. The endless moments.