real damage.
Until a knock on the door caught us both off guard. First it was light, just a regular tapping sound. Even as I was being pulled under, I could make out the sound and recognized it immediately. Taylor cursed under his breath and loosened his hold on me just a little. And then the pounding was harder, more forceful until it was noisy banging.
Another stream of curse words flew out of Taylor’s mouth but this time they were aimed at the door. He released his grasp and I slid down the wall to the floor, pulling the curtain with me so that it was straining on the curtain rod. I watched his footsteps cross the room but I was gasping for breath, barely able to hold myself up in a sitting position.
I took big, gulping breaths, willing my heart to slow down, willing my wits to come back. That opened door was my only shot to get out of here, my only shot to escape. As soon as he turned the door handle, I would make my move.
I started to crawl noiselessly toward him. My clutch lay abandoned on the floor and thankfully directly in my path. I snatched it up on my way. I wasn’t very concerned about the designer bag or anything else in it besides my phone and my credit card if I needed to pay for a cab. My vision was starting to clear, and I had enough big breaths now that I felt the strength to run return.
Taylor yanked open the door, wider than I think he intended, but he was blind with bloodlust and unable to gauge his strength. And that was all I needed. I burst forward like a sprinter out of the blocks and bull-rushed his side, squeezing under the space just between him and the door. I ignored Blake’s shocked look of surprise at seeing me bolt out of the room like a bat out of hell and just started screaming at the top of my lungs. The sound was piercing but ragged, shrill but scratching and raspy from the choking incident not forty-five seconds before.
I looked around for the exit, desperate and wild and I just kept screaming. I had to. And even though my lungs were burning and my throat so ready to give up, I willed myself to continue making sound, to fulfill this plan for escape. My vision was still hazy enough that it took way longer than it should have to find the stairs, but all the while irritated guests had started to step out of their hotel rooms to see what the commotion was about. I heard the suspicious sound of a door clicking shut and locking. Without looking I knew it had to be Taylor and Blake hiding away from the crazed girl who would rat them out to the police in a millisecond if they tried to follow me.
I leapt down the stairs, sometimes propelling myself forward by the railings so I could take five and six steps at a time. I never looked back, never glanced behind me, I was too afraid. A tiny, but present rational part of my brain announced that not a door to the stairwell had opened since I entered and only the sound of my feet echoed throughout the stairwell but I couldn’t chance it. I couldn’t take the risk.
Once I reached the ground floor I tore through the door and to the lobby. I spun in frantic circles, looking for Taylor or Blake or Drew. My eyes moved back and forth, frenzied in their search. They could have taken the elevators down; they could be waiting for me. But if I saw them, I would just start screaming again. I would just keep screaming until I drew so much attention to myself that someone called the police and they carted me away to an insane asylum.
I didn’t care.
That could never happen to me again.
That was insane.
I wasn’t. But that was.
Now I just had to figure out what to do. How to get out of here. I dug through my clutch and
pulled out my cellphone with violently shaking hands. I scrolled to the first number on my call list, only because he had called tonight to make me promise that if anything went wrong I would call him, and so I did. I called Ryder.
“What’s wrong?” He asked after the first ring.
“I need you,” I sobbed. “I need you. You said to call if I needed