to do next. I haven’t had breakfast or coffee yet, but I don’t think my stomach could handle either. I decide to workout. I need to get rid of this tension in my muscles. I need an outlet, and the punching bag is going to be my best chance of making it through the day.
19
It takes me a long time to get my breathing under control after he leaves the room. My scalp tingles where he pulled my hair, and my insides twist with pure rage. I’ve never been this angry. Consumed by hate. All I can do is think of escaping. I’m not a person to him. I’m an obsession, an object. Something he owns and that he won’t let anyone else touch.
God, I can’t believe he did that. All the people he took from me… Shawn. I can’t even imagine the sinister things he did to him, to them. Fear coils deep in my gut. He said I’ll never be free of him. Tears fall from my eyes and cascade down my cheeks.
He did this for his own sick pleasure. He’s not protecting me. He’s keeping me. Locking me up. I won’t be a victim. I won’t let him control me. I’m going to get out of this, no matter what I have to do. Swiping at the tears, I force myself to get dressed.
It takes me forever to put my clothes on and even longer to walk out of the room, but when I do, Zane is nowhere to be found. I feel this strange tug on my heart at not seeing him, but I push the feeling away. He doesn’t deserve anything from me, least of all, for me to care about him. He’s a monster, a killer, and a criminal. He may not hurt me, but he’s hurt others, and that’s the same thing.
The living room is empty, as is the kitchen. I continue walking toward the hall that leads to the gym and library. I do my best not to make any noise, and when I reach the door to the gym, I spot Zane. He’s doing push-ups on the floor, his complete attention on counting each up and down rep. I look to the free weights sitting a few feet away.
Now is your chance…
I know if I miss or don’t knock him out that I’ll be screwed. There is no coming back from this, but the other option is worse. It forces me to stay here with a man who is what real monsters are made of, and I can’t do that. Wiping my clammy palms against the front of my yoga pants, I walk up to the weight rack and grab a fifteen-pound dumbbell. It should do the job. Nervously, I do my best not to trip or startle Zane as I edge closer to him.
You can do it. For one brief second, I contemplate putting the weight back and walking away. I’m not the type to hurt someone, and this is going to do some damage. It’s going to rip me apart on the inside. I just don’t see a way around it. It’s him or me, and I have to save myself.
The muscles in my stomach tighten as I lift the weight above my head. Closing my eyes—because I can’t look at this—I bring it down in an arch motion. Flinching when the heavy weight makes contact, and his body crashes to the floor with a thud. I lift the weight again, aiming for the back of his head, probably what I should’ve aimed for to begin with.
Except as I lift the weight above my head, Zane rolls over and pushes up onto his feet with lightning speed. Fear grips onto me, causing me to freeze. The dark shadow that casts on his face is terrifying. Zane might care about me, might be obsessed, but right now, all I see is a man who wants to hurt me. My lungs shrivel up, and my throat tightens. It feels like I’m suffocating, and he hasn’t even touched me yet.
He’s going to kill me.
“You just don’t know when to quit, do you?” His lip curls with fury, and he tugs the weight out of my hand, tossing it to the floor behind him like it’s nothing.
I’m going to die. I can feel it. He’s looking at me with murder in his eyes, and I have nowhere to go, no way to escape him. I swallow down the scream building in my throat