Chapter 33 33
Death… or shattered bones?
Sofía asked herself the same question for what felt like the hundredth time.
She stood beside the window in his bedroom, fingers trembling as they rested against the cold frame. Opening it had taken all the strength she had, and now the real problem remained getting down.
The second floor felt impossibly high. The ground below looked distant and unforgiving.
If she jumped, she was almost certain something would break.
So she hadn’t.
Instead, she’d torn his bedsheets into strips and twisted them together, but the length still hadn’t been enough. Desperate, she’d yanked several of his expensive branded shirts from the wardrobe, knotting them tightly with the sheets, forming a makeshift rope.
When she was finally sure it could hold her weight, she tossed one end out the window and tied the other securely to the foot of the bed.
She hadn’t screamed.
She couldn’t.
The last thing she needed was anyone hearing her. A student being found staying inside her professor’s house would destroy everything her reputation, her future, her scholarship.
This neighborhood looked wealthy, which meant there was a strong chance some academy students lived nearby.
She couldn’t risk it.
The darkness outside pressed in heavily, and panic clawed at her chest.
He could return at any moment.
She had to go.
Fear of falling churned in her stomach, but it was nothing compared to the terror of facing him again.
Taking a deep breath, she climbed out the window, refusing to look down. Her hands gripped the rope tightly as she began lowering herself slowly.
Then
Her foot slipped.
A scream tore from her throat.
Her heart nearly burst as her shoe scraped against the wall, but somehow she found the edge beneath her and steadied herself.
Shaking, she continued carefully downward.
When she reached the lower window ledge, the rope ended.
There was no choice.
She let go.
Her body hit the ground hard with a dull thud, a strangled groan escaping her lips.
Pain exploded through her leg.
A silent cry trembled out of her mouth as she pulled her foot to her chest, clutching it tightly. Her ankle had twisted badly it throbbed with unbearable intensity.
After a few agonizing minutes, she forced herself upright.
The moment she put weight on it, her body buckled.
It hurt like hell.
But escaping mattered more.
Using the wall for support, she limped off the porch and into the street, eyes darting around as she tried to understand where she was. Each step sent sharp stabs of pain up her leg.
Soon, a familiar coffee shop came into view.
Her heart sank.
She was far from home.
She had no money.
Her bag was still in his office.
Going back wasn’t an option.
Biting down hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out, she pushed herself forward toward her apartment.
The first thing she would do was pack.
She would grab whatever mattered and leave.
There was no doubt in her mind he would come after her.
If she wanted to live, she couldn’t stay.
When her residential area finally appeared, a small, painful smile curved her lips. She’d been walking for what felt like forever nearly an hour and a half.
Her thoughts were spinning, imagining all the horrible places he might lock her away if he found her again.
She didn’t notice the group of men sitting on their motorcycles nearby.
Didn’t see their widened eyes.
Didn’t catch their stunned stares.
Reaching her door, she grabbed the spare key hidden beneath the flowerpot, unlocked it quickly, and slipped inside, locking it behind her.
Her chest heaved as she rushed in.
She pulled out the old worn suitcase that had once belonged to her father and began stuffing clothes and essentials inside.
For tonight, she’d find a cheap motel.
Tomorrow, she’d figure out where to go.
Her hands paused when she picked up the framed photo on her bedside table.
Her parents.
Her grandfather.
All smiling.
She was just a baby in her father’s arms.
Tears burned her eyes as she gently placed the frame inside the bag.
Suddenly
A loud knock echoed through the apartment.
Her body jolted.
He’s here.
Panic surged instantly.
Limping quickly to the door, she peered through the peephole.
One of the men stood outside.
Hands in his pockets.
Her throat went dry.
It was the same thug who’d come days earlier asking for water.
Her heart pounded wildly.
She rushed back and turned the TV on high volume, pretending no one was home.
But dread crashed into her when realization hit
She’d walked past them earlier.
As a girl.
Her breathing grew shallow.
The knock came again.
“Hey, dude!” the man called out loudly. “Can you give me a bottle of water?”
Relief washed over her.
He just wanted water.
Nodding to herself, Sofía grabbed a bottle, slipped on a glove, and held her breath as she opened the door slightly, handing it out.
The man took it.
She was about to shut the door
When a hand shot out, stopping it.
The door was shoved wide open.
She was thrown backward, hitting the floor hard.
Horror filled her eyes as she stared up.
Four men stood there.
She recognized every one of them.
The thugs.
The criminals.
The killers who ruled this area.
“Well, look what we’ve got here,” the man with piercings scattered across his face said, stepping inside as she scrambled backward on her elbows.
“A young ct,” hissed the one with a scorpion tattoo curled along his neck.
Tears spilled freely as she kept retreating, inch by inch.
“I always fucking thought she was a boy,” the man who’d asked for water muttered.
“She played us good,” the bald one snickered, slamming the door shut behind him.
The sound echoed like a prison lock.
The room suddenly felt too small.
Too tight.
Their presence suffocated her.
Sofía forced herself to stand despite the agony in her ankle, gripping the table for balance.
She was still dressed in her academy uniform white shirt, knee-length skirt.
Their eyes roamed over her body.
Disgust crawled over her skin.
“Not every day you find a gorgeous fucking girl like this,” the pierced man said, moving closer.
“I’m gonna enjoy her first.”
His grin was wild.
Hungry.