Death of a King

Chapter 42

I'm actually going to be sick.

Chris walked faster, nearly jogging at the sounds gurgling up my throat, leading us past a long hall of doors, then another, and another. Finally, we stopped and he directed me into a room, shutting the door securely behind us with a soft click.

Wasting no time, he pointed to a conjoined room and I barely made it inside before vomiting the contents of my stomach into the toilet. But there wasn't much in me and soon dry heaves took hold, jarring my body while tears rolled down my cheeks and I fought to breathe between my retching. Then shivers arrived to replace the heaving, lobbing away my convulsions and substituting them with sharp pricks of ice that penetrated my veins and coursed through my body like venom on track to my heart.

I could only hope that venom would kill me.

Chris leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed awkwardly over his chest as if he didn't know whether to offer his assistance or keep a safe distance. Eventually, he trudged into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub beside me. With unnerving composure, he reached over to flush the toilet and asked, "Did I hurt you?"

I couldn't speak, my emotions were too erratic and lack of oxygen was making me dizzy. I shook my head, even though my back was cramped from when he threw me against the door. That pain was irrelevant, only a bruise in comparison to the pain of others.

By chance, my eyes drifted through the bathroom door to the room that lay beyond and I realized with sharp horror that this must be Chris' room. The unmade bed and random clothes splurged throughout the area as though his dressers couldn't contain the material only confirmed my suspicions. I should have known this is where he'd take me, to carry out his orders.

Chris sighed from his perch, scratching at his forehead, "Listen Sadie, I know you probably don't want to hear this right now, but we don't have much time. Rosen will be here soon to check on-"

Before he could finish, I was on my feet, backing away from Chris with Rosen's demands of rape ringing in my head like sirens from hell. Chris tentatively followed after me, reaching out to steady me when I tripped over a pile of clothes, but I shoved at him and let my nails shred down his arms, screaming through my tears, "Don't you dare touch me!"

Chris stumbled backwards at my aggressive demands, catching his heel on a sock and nearly slipping. Through his blunder, he said, "Calm down, I'm not going to-"

"I don't care what Rosen told you to do! Stay the hell away from me!" I shouted, sliding along the wall until I found myself inadvertently trapped opposite of the door with no clear path to freedom. Fear conjured rapid breaths, making me lightheaded in the wake of realizing that my virtue was about to be stolen in the worst way imaginable.

But Chris backed off, holding his hands high and keeping his tone soft, "Sadie, listen to me. I'm not going to hurt you and I'm sure as hell not going to force you to have sex with me."

The tears in my eyes obscured his figure but I managed to analyze the look of sincerity in his gaze. Still, I didn't move from my cautioned position near the wall, "You just said that when Rosen gives an order, it's followed. Why would this instance be any different?"

Chris shook his head, taking a single step closer to lower his voice, willing his assurance through our gaze as though that connected us despite the chasm between where he stood and where I shook, "I'm not the bad guy, Sadie. I told you I would help and that's what I'm going to do." He took another step, then one more. He was directly in front of me now, raising his hands ever so slowly to delicately wipe away the tears that had gathered under my eyes, "I couldn't help Lumiere, but I can help you." He meant it, "Please let me help."