Escaping Parker - F.T. Zele Page 0,75
boyfriend left, you haven’t gotten much satisfaction. God, if you just stayed and did what you were supposed to, we wouldn’t be in this predicament. You always knew how to fuck shit up, Clarissa. But tonight, you’re going to do as I say, and not deny me having you one last time before I let you go. And when I say ‘let you go,’ I mean make good on all my promises,” he huffs and walks out to the kitchen.
He returns seconds later twirling a knife in his hands. He drops to his knees, setting the gun down on the carpet. He runs the dull side of the knife down my neck to my collarbone. I sit here shaking, unable to move. My free hand dangles behind me. Grabbing my shirt, he cuts the front straight down, exposing me.
“You allowed him to touch you like you used to let me. I won’t let that be the last memory of him you die thinking about. He tainted you; he was never anything to you.” Steven runs his hands up and down my front. Tears well in my eyes.
It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. “Please stop,” I beg, sobs muffling my words.
He builds off my fear, grabbing the knife and dragging it down my chest to my stomach, until he reaches my waistband. I start to freak out. The second he cuts my pants, the knife will drop right onto the chair. That’ll be the end of me.
His eyes briefly meet mine. Then the sharp point digs into the fabric, the fibers ripping. The knife crashes to the chair, clanging loudly against the wood.
“What the hell—” He reaches behind me.
The door slams open. I knew Andrew had sent the police. What I didn’t expect was Rig to run through that door, barreling right at us. Steven grunts and loses his balance, giving me the split second I need to crash my head into his, my wig falls to the floor. He falls back, and Rig jumps on top of him.
My head pounds from that blow, and suddenly everything turns to slow motion. Grunts and groans and bodies wrestling in front of me. I’m frozen, I can’t get my mouth to say anything.
Somehow Steven gets on top of Rig, and a deafening explosion shreds my eardrums. Steven stiffens, siting up straight, the gun in his hand. Adrenaline roars through me and I rip my left hand out of the last bit of the tape, snatching the knife still resting behind me on the chair. I plunge the blade into Steven’s neck.
“Parker, NO!” Rig yells out, but it’s too late. I’m taking my life back.
Steven looks back at me slowly, raising his hand with the gun, pointing it at me. I rip the knife out and stab him again, the blood spurting out of both of the wounds. His hand drops, and the gun falls to the floor. He curls in a ball and gasps for air.
To my right, Rig lies on the floor bleeding, his eyes rolling back into his head.
“RIG!” I yell. “Hold on, Rig, open your eyes! Please Rig!” Crying, screaming, my legs are still bound to the chair. I struggle to free myself with the knife, then drop to the ground and hold him.
Sirens sounding in the distance start to get closer.
“Rig, wake up. Help is almost here. Don’t close your eyes. Please Rig, don’t leave me again,” I beg him.
Steven’s gasps turn into small coughs, blood now leaking from his mouth. I won this time.
I stare at Rig, blood spilling from his chest, and I feel like anything but a winner.
I reach over, grabbing my phone out of Steven’s pocket, and quickly dial Andrew.
“Rig’s been shot, Andrew, help me. What do I do?” I cry. “Help me!”
“Help is on the way, stay calm!”
“I hear sirens. Rig must have called them before he came in. It all happened so fast. I don’t know what to do. He won’t talk to me!”
“Where is Steven, did he get away?” he asks, fear in his voice.
“No, he’s here. I killed him, Andrew. I’m going to jail, I fucking killed him. Oh my God, what am I going to do? I’m so scared, Andrew.” I cry into the phone.
“Parker, breathe. Where has Rig been shot?”
“His chest, his chest is bleeding. I’m trying to feel for a pulse, but I can’t find one. I don’t know if I’m checking the right way.” I continue grabbing his wrist, checking for anything.
“Is he breathing? Parker, you