The chances of me escaping are slim, extremely slim. But if I remain here, I’m going to be killed anyway and no one wants to sit around wondering what death will feel like. My mom didn’t raise me to wait for a miracle to find you, you have to get up and find it yourself. I would rather wait until my clit isn’t throbbing with need and the household is mostly asleep, but I don’t have time to waste. Wyatt could realise the key is missing any second and my chance would be lost for good.
Pulling on the hoodie, I slip my arm through the bars on the door and search for the padlock. The chain is much thicker than I expected as my fingers trail further along it with no avail. Standing on my tiptoes and using the bar to hold me up, my fingers graze the padlock but it’s too far down the chain for me to grab. Panic starts to filter through me, my heart beating wildly as I weigh up my options.
Going with option A, don’t think – just do, I grip onto the chain and hoist it up. Yanking with all my strength, I manage to pull it high enough to draw some of the steel manacle through the grate. The padlock is closer now, my hands able to reach out and unlock it without a moment to lose. As soon as the lock is free, the chain begins to slide back through the grate like a recoiling snake. I desperately grab to stop its descent but the heavy weight slips through my fingers and crashes to the ground. No going back now, I reach around to hoist up the wooden slat covering the door and dash out into the corridor.
My limbs are tingling and I’m on the verge of a heart attack, but I force my legs to move as I begin to run. Leaving the staircase behind, I follow the tunnel which seems to be slanting at a downward angle. The lanterns have either not been placed this far down or not turned on as I’m plunged into darkness and keep running all the while. I really hope I’m right about this.
Garrett
“Garrett?” Axel’s mumble reaches me through a deep sleep. I jerk upright on my front, dread spilling through me that something is wrong. Looking around the room wildly in panic, the dying sun bleeding out into hues of reds and oranges beyond the window, my eyes settle on Axel. There’s an amused hook to one of his eyebrows, those dazzling amber eyes filled with mirth and his lips slanted up into a smile. It’s then I notice my hand is firmly clasped around his balls, obviously getting carried away during our midday nap session.
“Although I appreciate the massage, I’m not ready to take this any further with you at the moment.” Retracting my hand, I roll onto my back to stare at the ceiling. I didn’t miss the way he specified ‘with me’, because we both know he’s more than ready to let Avery into his pants. I get he’s recovering, which is exactly what he should be doing, but he didn’t even ask me if he needed relieving. I’ve been by his side every moment of every day, nursing him back to health with my blue balls tucked firmly between my legs and he lets Avery suck him off because she knows how to be gentle. It may not be my forte, but I could go easy for Axel. I’d do anything for him. And holy fuck, am I jealous?
“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again. Until you’re ready,” I grumble, not liking the worried look I can see him giving the side of my face. He pulls on my far shoulder, rolling me onto my side to face him.
“You don’t have to wait for me, you know. If you want to go and find someone to relieve you, I’ll be fine. You’ve been amazing with helping me recover, but you’re still you. Nothing’s changed.” Ouch. I must fail at hiding my reaction as Axel’s brow furrows further, his hand reaching up to cup my cheek. “I didn’t mean it like that, you know how you get. You’re practically a sex addict and I can’t give you want you need right now.”
“Maybe I only need you,” I whisper, a rare glimpse of my vulnerability rising to the surface.
“We both know that’ll never be the case.” He snorts and looks away from me, staring at a spot beyond my shoulder while I quickly shut down my stupid fucking emotions. Clearing my throat, I nudge his hand from my face and leave the bed. Throwing my legs into a pair of blue tracksuit pants, I grab the matching jacket from the arm of a nearby chair and leave the room, blood rushing through my ears too fast to hear Axel’s protests.
I hate I let him deep enough to be able to hurt me. Why did I do that to myself? Guess I’m still aching for punishment, the same way I was as a boy who stubbornly waited for someone to care for him, despite the long-term effects it would have to myself. A part of me wanted Axel to care, maybe even more and I was ready to gut myself at his feet to let him piece me back together or crush me beneath his boots.
What if I’ve been wrong this whole time? What if Axel likes being with me because I don’t usually do ties, he would have been free to leave and come back whenever he felt like it. My heart’s a revolving door; many pass through but there’s no emergency stop button for anyone to stay long enough to hurt me.
Turning the last corner before the kitchen,
