Page 168 of Morally Corrupt

He looks me over before heading to the door and turning the lock so that no one can enter. I frown. He just needs to take some blood, right?

"Everyone was wondering what piece of ass Carlos brought over." He eyes my restrained wrists and smirks, his hands going to his jeans and unbuckling his belt.

Are you fucking kidding me?

"Carlos won't like that," I say, my words distorted by my injured tongue.

"He doesn't have to know."

His pants undone, he advances towards the bed and work on my jeans. Fuck!

I don't allow him to do much else as I flex my legs and push. He loses his balance for a moment but jumps back on me. I'm prepared for him as I wrap my legs around his neck, applying as much pressure as possible.

"Bitch!" he spits out, his face already going red.

I don't know how long I can hold him like this, so I bend my wrists and hold onto the bed frame with my hands, using it as an anchor.

Then I focus all my strength on my lower body, and I bring his head towards me, banging it against the board. His hands are trying to reach me, and it's getting harder and harder to keep him in place. I breathe in deeply and bang his head once more, this time taking advantage of the momentum to toss him back and off the bed.

His head is bleeding pretty badly, and he's looking at me with murder in his eyes.

My fists curl around the bed frame once more, and at one tug, I realize it's wiggling. I frantically wiggle more and more, hoping to destabilize it enough to pull it from the bed.

The doctor slowly recovers, rising to his feet. The hit to the head must have been relatively good since he's swaying a little.

"Fuckingputa," he yells before jumping on me once again. Luckily, at this moment, the bed frame comes free from its hinges, and I manage to fling it at him, the panel hitting him straight in the throat. He releases a few choked sounds before crumpling to the ground, clutching at his Adam's apple.

I sigh in relief and take a moment to compose myself. Realizing that Carlos could turn up at any moment, I get up from the bed, bed frame still attached to my hands.

I go directly to the doctor's medical kit and look for a scalpel. I find one, but now cutting the rope holding my wrists prisoner to the board is still hard.

I grasp the scalpel in one hand and try to rotate it so that the sharp side can graze the rope. I do the movement a few times before I notice a cut forming. I continue my efforts on that specific area until my wrist snaps free. I do the same with the other wrist and then throw the frame on the bed.

I'm about to leave, but I give the doctor another kick in the balls just for good measure. He's so far gone he can't even voice his pain.

Now,thatfelt good.

I open the door and exit the room, not knowing exactly where I'm going. I hear a few people at some point and hide behind a wall, waiting for them to pass.

The more I walk, the more lost I am.

Until I reach an elevator.

Once inside, I notice I'm on the fourth floor. I quickly press zero to get to the ground floor, hoping there won't be too many people getting in my way.

* * *

When the elevator doors open on the ground floor, an older man in a sleek, black, two-piece suit greets me. I slowly drag my eyes from his feet to the gun he aims at me, and then suddenly to his face.

"Jimenez," I say, the name slipping from my lips and eliciting a wince of pain.

"And look who's here." He whistles, brandishing the gun around. I immediately put my hands up, hoping he'll see I'm unarmed.

His face is thoughtful for a while, as he says, "You weren't included in my plan. I guess I'll have to make it work." He motions me aside, and he steps into the elevator next to me. He presses 3, and the elevator takes us to the third floor.

Jimenez forces me to walk in front of him and tells me to head to the corridor's end.

"Father!" My head snaps to the side, and I see Carlos heading towards us, his eyes raging with fury.