𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃

89 | brimere route

"What the hell do you mean?"

"I mean," he tugs onto my hair and jerks me upwards so that I'm now standing on my knees. The pain on my leg has dissipated completely, but I can still feel blood cascading down my thigh. "He's had a piece of this cunt so why shouldn't you?"

The moment I feel his grip relax on my hair, I hold out the shard and raise it to my head. With one swift movement, I run the sharp edge over the ponytail Cam has twisted around his hand.

It doesn't sever my tie with him completely, so I swing the piece of broken glass around like a madwoman until I cut myself off of him. Until all I see are my golden locks on the bottom of the floor, soaked in my blood.

Crimson oozes from my hand as I wave it around with precision, trying to keep the demon ahead of me at bay and my blade suddenly grazes his cheek, ever so slightly that the tiniest cut forms on the surface of his pale skin. A drop of blood runs down his cheekbone, but I don't stop there. My hands are moving on their own accord as I cut through the flesh on his arm, and he groans out in pain. It's a small cut and I can tell it's deep because it took some effort to pull the blade out of his arm.

"You fucking bitch-" Cam hisses and with that he extends his arms and dashes toward me, only to grab me by the waist. He walks me back towards Addison as I trash against him relentlessly, but then he digs his nails into my ribs and my voice gets caught in my throat when I scream. I fall on the floor where I notice another much smaller shard from the mirror, so I carefully pick it up and hide it under my sleeve.

I tighten my grip around the blood-stained blade on my opposite hand, since my life pretty much depends on it. Cam' hands make their way to my face, one holding me steady by my hair as he raises the other to hit me. My throat runs dry, and my skin breaks into cold sweat; the only essence of warmth flows out from my palm in red, as I cling onto the littlest fragment of hope that I might get out of this alive.

He lands a hit across my face. And then another.

And then another.

"Did that hurt?" He hisses under his breath. "Did that fucking hurt? Imagine how much Hayden was hurting while you cunts kept quiet about it."

Three hits turn into four and I'm seeing stars. At first all I felt was coldness, but now my body is feverish warm and it's hard to keep up with these abrupt changes in my temperature. I can hear Addison say something, but the words are faint, easily as faint as my vision. My legs are already giving up on me and my arms are weak. I've lost a lot of blood and a sudden lightheadedness overtakes me, causing me to surrender in my predator's arms.

The ache in my bones, the pain that runs in my blood faster than adrenaline ever could, tricks me into thinking that my body is willingly falling under the spell of this sweet surrender and while my body is weak, I know damn well on my mind that I want to continue fighting. I refuse to let myself crumble in pieces. I refuse to hand myself over, to let someone bend my morals just like Elijah did. I refuse to let someone dictate the way I live and my beliefs, but I also want to hurt him as much as he hurt me.

But I know my limits and I know I'm weak.

For now, I need to escape him.

"Little bitch, did you actually think that hurt?" He barks out, his spit spraying all over my face. "Look at me when I'm talking to you. Did that hurt?"

He then drives a punt into my stomach, and I drop down on my knees feeling my gut bruise from the inside out. The shard falls out of my hand landing on the dirty ground with a sharp sound; it breaks in half, and he kicks away the last remaining flickers of hope.

Or so he thinks.

"You think you're so smart, so tough, but all you are is cunt. You hear me?"
He says in a dangerously low tone before turning to Addison. "You are so going to fucking regret this later baby." His neck is slightly tilted, his attention finally averted; this small window of an opportunity is only going to be open for so long; I need to think and act quickly-