Page 3 of Break Me
“What did you do to him?” I jerk my head back, and he releases my neck to grab my forehead, pinning my head against his shoulder.
“Nothing he didn’t deserve.” He licks the shell of my ear. “I followed him, beat him up in an alley, and took his key card.”
“No!” I writhe against him, fumbling at my sides to try and push at him.
He grabs my wrists, shoves them under my body, and traps them in place as he presses his elbows against my arms.
“Don’t worry, he should be out of the hospital in a few days.” He strokes his fingers along my jawline. “And you’ll be long gone by then.”
Lowering his weight onto me, he keeps me pinned as he reaches for my phone. “Actually, he might not even realize something is wrong until he goes back home.”
I fist my right hand when he pulls it out from beneath me, but he easily pries my thumb free and presses it to the side of my phone. The screen lights up, and I claw at his arm as he holds the phone out of my reach and types.
“See what I mean?” He shows me the screen, and my hand goes still on his arm as I read the sent message.
It’s over. I’m going home.
No, no, no, no, no.The single word goes on a loop inside my mind as I try to think of a way out of this. There has to be a way. Nothing is ever this hopeless.
He gets off me and pockets my phone as he walks to the middle of the room and grabs something off the desk.
I jump to the floor, watching him warily as I linger in the corner behind the bed, trying to come up with my next move.
My heart thunders in my chest as I see what he’s holding. A small bottle and a white cloth.
There’s only one thing to do. I scream. With the full force of my lungs.Someone will come to my rescue before it’s too late.
He shakes his head and tuts as he opens the bottle and places the lid on the desk. “Don’t you know that the room is soundproof? Your rich, little boyfriend got the absolute best for his girl.”
Horror pounds in my chest as I watch him pour liquid onto the cloth. I glance toward the door. My line of escape is free, and he’s preoccupied. So I bolt forward, muscles aching from the sudden force as I dart through the room.
I only make it to the desk before I slam into an arm that stretches out and knocks the air from my lungs. I kick my feet into the ground as he pulls me back against him, locking me to his muscular chest. I scratch at his arms and writhe and jerk, but it’s no use. He doesn’t strain a muscle as he easily restrains me and sets the bottle down without spilling a single drop.
“No,” I pant as he runs his knuckles over my cheek, the wet fabric in his hand brushing my skin. “No!” I repeat, my voice rising to a shrill wail.
“It’s almost a shame I have to put you out. You’re awfully cute when you’re all desperate and screaming.”
He moves the cloth toward my mouth, and I dig my fingers into his arm, feeling his skin break beneath my nails. But it doesn’t faze him. He continues as if he has all the time in the world, folding out the cloth in his palm and pressing it to my mouth.
I try to hold my breath, but my tight chest has already deprived me of air, and within seconds, I’m panting hard to access precious oxygen. A whimper escapes me as a sickly sweet, chemical smell invades my nose. Expecting the effect to set in immediately, I’m surprised when nothing happens. I try to hold in another inhale, but it only makes me heave harder, and I start struggling again as I lose control over my breath. I writhe against him, shoving, pulling, and scratching at the hand over my mouth. I put in all my strength, panting even harder with the effort and inhaling more of the cloying smell.
“Sorry, it’s not like in the movies. Takes a few minutes for the effect to set in.” He swipes his thumb across my cheek as if he’s genuinely trying to comfort me.
My strength weakens, but I’m not sure if it’s the drug or my struggle. I keep going for a little while, but my strength drains faster, and my fight wanes to abrupt jerks.
Tears pool in my eyes as a slow haze creeps over my mind and my limbs go heavy. I blink my suddenly heavy eyes against the room and sink into him as drowsiness drags me down.
“That’s it,” he croons, adjusting his arm to support my weight rather than restraining me.
My fingers relax around his arm, now holding on more than pulling.
Tightening his grip around my waist, he hoists me up, still holding the cloth to my mouth, and lowers us both to lie on the bed. I give a few jerks, but he easily wraps his legs around mine, pinning me in a little spoon against his body as I breathe in the chemical solution.
The room blurs before me. I blink a few times, trying to fight the fatigue, but it’s out of my control. My eyes fall shut and refuse to open back up.
He removes the cloth, and my head falls limp on the mattress.
“Dax is gonna love training you,” he whispers, and those are the last words I hear before darkness claims me.