Ruin (Rhodes #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,28
kidnapper. I drop his arm and clear my throat.
His eyes glint. The same mysterious you’re-in-trouble sparkle he gave me yesterday. His lips curve into a devilish smirk, the clotted blood on his forehead accentuating his monstrosity. “Interesting.”
Why do I feel like I screwed up? Even worse than failing to run?
The last thing I see is him placing his hand in his trousers’ pocket before the room plunges into darkness.
I blink twice. No, it isn’t my imagination. My eyes are well and truly open. The damn place is black all over again.
“Come on!” I shout, voice shaky as my arms reach out for him.
Some of my tension dissipates when my fingers connect with the soft material of his shirt. I cling to his arm as if it was a life line. In all honesty, it is.
I hate myself for selecting him as my anchor— for the second time in a row. I don’t have a choice, though. It’s either him or the ghosts waiting to swallow me.
One monster is better than a horde of them.
“Let’s see how far you will fall, kitten.”
“Huh?” I tilt my head, arguing with my vision to capture his features or a shape of anything.
Nothing. As if the colour black chose this place as residence.
His arm slips from between my sweaty fingers. The void sends a jolt of trembles through my nerves. I move forward. “Aaron...?” My spooked voice freezes my spine.
Click.
No, no, no, no, no...
That wasn’t the door. He didn’t leave me here alone. He didn’t.
“Aaron?” My voice’s louder.
Silence. Imposing, terrifying silence.
“AARON!” I dash through thick layers of black to where I remember the door to be.
Once my hands connect with a metal surface, I pound it. “Where did you go? Come back!”
I pound, punch, and kick the door. Again. And again. I’m at it for so long that my palms sting, my knuckles explode with pain, and my frozen feet beg to be put out of their misery.
He’s not coming back.
He really left me. Alone. In a black world. The same blackness of the cave I got trapped in when I was a little girl.
I can’t survive darkness.
Phantoms group around me. Their ugly heads roam from side to side. Hollow eyes stare me down. Cheshire cat’s grins mock me, waiting to tear me apart.
“They’re not real, not real, not real...” I chant, attempting to close my lids.
An invisible hand wraps around my throat. I gasp, my lungs pleading for inexistent oxygen.
“D...ad...dy...” I choke out, but Dad isn’t here. There’s only another hand that stretches inside my chest. It squeezes my heart as if tying it with ropes.
My hand reaches to my cold, wet neck in a hopeless try to loosen the choking. My other hand clutches the side of my breast, desperately trying to stop my heart from bursting out.
Somehow, I end up curled on the ground. A whimper escapes my lips as salty tears seep into my dry mouth.
My limbs twitch in a continuous spasm. This isn’t a nightmare. This is real.
The punishing hurricane wrecks my insides. It shreds every cell. Destroys all thoughts. My body begs it to stop.
But it won’t.
The attacks will keep coming, over and over, until someone gets me out of this black hell.
My only option is the same psycho who coerced me to it.
Chapter Nine
Aaron
Twenty-one years ago,
I can’t breathe. It’s suffocatingly dark.
A soft material shoves on my face. No air comes into my lungs. I strain to turn my head sideways, but a force keeps me locked in place.
I thrash, fingertips digging into the bony hands holding the choking material. My lungs scream for oxygen and my energy soon wears out. My strangled breaths no longer come out and neither do my struggles.
Why isn’t my heart buzzing in my ears like in the stories I read? Why am I so... calm? I already figured I’m unusual, but this situation should be different. Right?
“What are you doing?” Mother screams, her voice reaching me in a hazy wave. The pillow is yanked off my face.
A wild rush of oxygen invades my chest. I cough. The intensity of life kicking back into my limbs saturates my lungs. Jasmine contorts my stomach. It smells like the horses’ damp in the mud.
Soft, shaky fingers encircle my face, and push my