COMMAND

Four

I had three ways to live.

The window was out of option. The bathroom didn't offer much help. Rogue Slade was an asshole; that needed to be said again.

Three ways. Find Hanna. Escape. Or be the most annoying person that in the end, he finds my presence so excruciating that he would decide to let me go. The first two would prove to be much harder. The last one might make death come faster. The only option I had was escape. Escape, then find Hanna. In that order. Got it.

But how do I escape?

Patience.

I wait. I wait for an opportunity to present itself, and it did. That opportunity came knocking on my door when a woman walked into the room, pushing a trolley cart. My stomach didn't grumble until I saw all the food displayed for me to eat, but it wasn't what my attention was on. It was the door that was left slightly open.

Escape.

I stared at the woman. She was a middle-aged woman, at least three inches taller than me. Her hair was blonde and curly, her eyes soft and blue. She was dressed casually, in a pair of skirt and blouse. She didn't greet me or looked at me. I guess that would have been Rogue's order. Talking to the hostage would establish a connection, which would turn into manipulation, and before you know it, the woman would be jumping to help. But I guess he had thought about that. This might be a test too. Leaving the door open. Fall into the trap, you fool. It practically said.

Well, I had thought about it too, and I was going to take my chances. While the woman was too busy loading food onto my plate, I used that opportunity to scramble off the bed and darted for the door.

I sprinted outside, hearing an exclaimed remark that I didn't bother to wait to listen. Stumbling into the hallway, I chose to go left because left was usually the way out. I sprinted, flying past rooms and other hallways, my hair whipping against my back. The house seemed to be like an endless maze. Endless turns, but I kept going straight.

I made it down the stairs, but it didn't puzzle me how it was so easy, or how I had barely met any human being except for that woman. She hadn't even bothered to follow me. I didn't care. I made it to the foyer, and the door stared straight at me. It looked like the front door. I wasn't sure. I was going to find out.

I was almost at the front door, a few steps away from freedom, but you know what they say about running? You look at where you're going. I didn't. So engrossed in the freedom that I didn't realize a trap had been set for me. One wrong step was all it took for me to be caught in it. I stepped into a rope, which curled around my ankle and lifted me off the floor. Before I knew it, I was dangling from the ceiling. Upside down.

Motherfucker.

I let out a scream as I dangled upside down, my arms waving around. I tried to push myself up to grab the robe so the blood wouldn't rush to my brain, but I couldn't grab it despite trying to reach it with my hand, but I ended up failing. Every time I moved, I swung around, and my head spun, so I tried to limit any movements.

Movements from the stairs had me arching my head back to see. The woman rushed the last few steps with wide eyes, and when I opened my mouth to ask her to cut the robe, she huffed at me, straightened her shoulders, and went back up the stairs. Bitch.

"Rogue!" I tried yelling, to tell him that he had won for now. I wanted to get down to the safe comfort of the ground. The robe was scratching at my ankle, making it burn.

He didn't show up.

Three minutes.

Turned to five. Which turned to six, and then before I knew it, I had been dangling from the ceiling for ten minutes. Ten bloody minutes. At least, I was able to arch my head back for a few seconds, so the blood didn't rush to my brain, but it got tiring. My arms went limp. I went from wanting to scream from wanting to cry my eyes out.