I go to grab my cell from my pocket but stop dead when I see her.
A scream escapes my lips and I feel my heart drop. Ice-cold terror is picking up speed inside my body, making me feel faint and powerless.
She’s standing in the middle of my living room with a hammer swinging in one hand, the other holding one of Zac’s stuffed animals.
I shift my weight, wondering if I could reach the doorknob and get out before she could reach me. My plans are ruined when she sees my intent and growls, “Don’t fucking move, whore.”
I don’t know who this woman is, but if she thinks she’s going to do something to harm my life, my baby, then she’s got another thing coming. I straighten my shoulders and vow silently to Zac that Mommy will protect him.
She takes a menacing step towards me, and I pray for a miracle.
Chapter 34 – Chelcie
“What do you want?” I’m proud of myself for keeping my voice steady, for not letting her see the fear that is taking over my system.
“You really are a stupid whore, aren’t you?” Her nasally voice sounds so flat, almost dead, and when it fills my ears, it just adds to the terror.
“If it’s money you want—here. Take my purse,” I plead. “We don’t have any jewelry or valuables here.”
Her eyes flash to my left hand and I could curse my beautiful diamond.
“Oh, I beg to differ, whore. You have everything of value to me. Let me tell you a story, hmm?” She walks closer to me and I stand my ground, refusing to give her the benefit of my cowering. “Get your fat ass in there and sit the fuck down,” she hisses, grabbing my hair and bringing the wooden end of the hammer up to slam against my cheekbone. The longer end clips the top of my eye and it causes stars to immediately dance in front of me.
Okay, that hurt.
Tears are burning my eyes, and I can feel something warm running down my cheek. When I don’t move quickly enough, she curls her fist tighter and forces me to the ground in the middle of the living room. I twist and steady myself so I don’t fall on my stomach. I can feel Zac kicking and rolling, and I close my eyes in relief that he’s okay. She grabs some duct tape out of her bag and walks behind me to bind my wrists painfully together. She throws the tape off to the side and I hear it crash into something, sending it shattering against the hardwood. I don’t dare take my eyes off of her though. I need to keep my wits about me if I’m going to get us out of this alive.
“Time for your goodnight story, little whore. There once was a beautiful woman. She had the most expensive clothes, all the money she could ever want, and a body every woman around would die for… And she had the most handsome prince in all the land. That prince was perfect, you see, and he wanted to give the princess everything she ever wanted. What she wanted was to rule her kingdom. Now I’ll skip all of the boring parts, but her prince has been lost. You see, he wasn’t lost to the princess. She always knew where to find her prince. He needed some time to remember how much he craves his princess. So she has waited patiently.”
She takes a break from her twisted tale. She just stares at me with this dazed and confused look on her face. I swear she can’t even focus. Her eyes keep getting larger and then squinting.
“I’ve been watching. I’m always watching,” she mumbles.
I watch in shocked horror as she spins the hammer even faster. Her confusion to the reality around her is making her one deadly, hammer-wielding lunatic.
“Who are you?” I implore.
My head snaps back when she cracks me again with the wooden handle. I lock my body and only sway slightly. Goddamn, that one hurt worse.
“Who am I?” she screeches, the sound making my eardrums protest. “Who am I? I am Sarah Jane Clarkston, and I’m here to finally take my prince back. And to remove MY baby from your whore body before you taint her!”
I watch in horror as she starts jamming the blunt end of the hammer into one of her eyes, mumbling over and over, “I’ve been watching. I’m always watching.” She digs at her hair, pulling out chunks at a time and throwing them on the floor. My mouth drops when she takes her blunt nails and claws them down her face before she pushes her arm out wide—then slams her fist into her face.
What in the fucking hell?
While she’s busy coming completely fucking unhinged, I try my hardest to get the tape off. I realize quickly enough that there’s no use. She has it so tight that I’m already starting to lose feeling in my fingers.
She stops her abuse to her face and starts crawling around on the floor. She’s still mumbling under her breath. “I’ve been watching. I’m always watching.”
I take advantage of her distraction and start looking around for something to use, something that can free my hands.
I spot one of my decorative vases that must have been what took the hit when crazy pants over there tossed the tape. I look around, seeing if any of the broken pieces made it my way.
There! About two feet from my leg is a piece that will be perfect. Now I just need to get to it. Checking to see how my new friend is, I notice that she’s now curled up next to my couch, rocking and slamming her fist against her head. Her other hand still holds the hammer tight, banging it over and over against the floor.
I move slowly, using my legs to inch closer and closer, only moving small inches at a time. I get where I can reach it as I sit on my ass, so I carefully and quietly as possible bring one of my legs out from under me, shifting on my ass to get my other leg out. My whole body is burning from the use of muscles I haven’t used in months.
When I get settled on my ass, I look over to make sure, once again, that she isn’t paying me any attention. My fingers reach out blindly, pushing the piece of glass a few times as I fumble around. I finally get my fingers around the sharp shard and begin the process of moving back onto my knees. I don’t want her to know that I’ve moved, but more importantly, I don’t want her to have any more of a height advantage if she comes to stand over me again. At least up on my knees, I have something going for me.
Once back on my knees, I make the painful shift back over to my original position. The whole time, I busy myself with moving the glass back and forth against my bindings. I want to scream in pain each time the sharp ends jam into my skin. Either my wrists or my fingers—hell, maybe both—are cut so badly that I’m struggling to hold on to the glass in my hands.
I can feel the tape give slightly at the same time that her head snaps up and she looks me in the eyes. “It’s all your fault, you fucking whore! You tempted him. Made him touch your body. IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!”