Page 42 of Point Proven
“It was perfect.”
Sinking his hand into his pocket, a silver key appeared. Placing his hand on my head, he angled me down, and I caught sight of the knife I would be grabbing as soon as I was free.
With a click, the collar opened, dropping into my lap with a light thud. “There. Look what reward you get when you listen.”
I inhaled what felt like fresh air, no longer tainted by my imprisonment or the shackles I unwillingly wore. With the plume of poison-free oxygen expanding my lungs, my senses became clearer, every ounce of training Thorne had drilled into me locking into place.
While I wasn’t calculated like Simon, capable of hacking into infrastructures and destroying them from the inside out, I was quick on my feet, and that skill readily benefited me.
Close combat was second nature, as was my ability to escape. I’d ensured Thorne put me through the most intensive training measures should I find myself in this situation again.
What appeared as sultriness transformed into unrelenting wrath. “Would you like your reward?”
Brows furrowing, he placed a hand on my shoulder. “What are you?—”
Reaching forward, my fingers curled around the blade tucked against his side. With one yank, I secured my overhand grip and swung upward, carving from the corner of his jaw and across his nose, only to put extra emphasis on the pressure as I crossed his left eye.
Screams tumbled from his mouth as he angled backward, slipping from the bed and crashing onto the floor. His palm slapped over his eye, a slew of heightened curses spilling into the air.
“FUCK!”
“Here, let mehelp you!” Driving my heel into the center of his face, I kicked him back into the wall.
I jumped from the bed, wincing as my injured leg connected with the ground. Hissing under my breath, I hobbled to his desk, shoving everything from it as I hunted for the box he’d placed the room key in.
Using his palm to steady himself, he rose from his position. Stumbling toward me, his balance teetered, blood coating half his face as he snarled. “Little fucking lamb.”
Flipping the lid from the black cube, I snatched the first portion of my freedom from inside the four cardboard walls. “I hope yourotin hell, youderanged fuck.”
My words ignited his steps, his staggering not enough to prevent the bloodlust shining in his one good eye. “Run, you little fucker. It’ll be much more fun when I catch you.”
I barely heard the last of his statement as I rushed toward the door, ripping it open with ease. My heels dug into the ground as I yanked it shut behind me to ensure he wasn’t able to slip free. Forcing the key into the lock with a shaking hand, the sharp, satisfying click confirmed his imprisonment. I took off into a sprint down the hallway, adrenaline aiding my escape.
Clad in only briefs, I ran past numerous soldiers patrolling the mansion. Various reactions were tossed my way, but to my surprise, not a single one of them made a move to stop me. They merely watched—whether in disbelief or longing, I wasn’t sure—as I worked to close the gap between me and the entrance.
Dark oak boards climbed the walls, outfitting them with an elegance Stefan lacked. Their dark hues cast shadows down the lengthened corridors that harbored at least six rooms on each side. The building itself contained four wings, each with their own secrets, as if he sectioned them off based on what torment he planned to inflict.
The grand banisters overhead, crafted with hand-carved leaves and thorns, hinted at the true nature of what appeared to be a rather exquisite Victorian-style mansion. It was a maze, with countless routes and numerous dead ends, all of which I’d mapped out when I was a child and chained to Stefan’s side.
It didn’t take long for me to slip from the furthest wing and make my way to the grand entrance, the spiraled stairs flanking each side confirmation of my reliable memory. Running under the overhang the two structures of ascension provided, the massive double doors sat in wait, screaming at me to push through the blinding burn that clawed its way into my lungs.
It wasrightthere—my freedom, my… my chance to see Simon. But everything halted when a foot slammed into the backof my knee, an explosion of white-hot agony erupting through my body as I lost my balance.
The crack of bone echoed, but I didn’t have time to respond as knuckles drove into the side of my face. The force knocked me sideways, granite greeting my side as I hit the ground. Knife clattering from my hand, it came to rest a few feet away. Heavy pants permeated my hearing as hands shoved me onto my stomach, pressure slamming into my thighs.
With my wound scraping against the flooring, I struggled to catch my breath. The pain in my knee only grew, and with the slightest shift, I knew it was either broken or dislocated. Before I could decipher which it was, fingers tangled in my hair, holding me against the cool surface with unrelenting strength.
A rattling cough split the charged air, followed by the unmistakable voice I thought I had escaped. “That was fuckingfun.”
The cry came from me instinctively, his pressure on my leg nearly unbearable, and not because of my freshly torn stitches. “G-Get… Get off of me!”
“You’ve lost my trust, Liam. I was beingnice, but if you want to play like this, I’ll show you the monster you thought you escaped.”
Thrashing beneath him, I tried to shift my weight off my left knee to avoid agitating the already searing affliction. “Fuck… you! Fuck you!” My gaze remained fixated on the door, and sunlight trickled through the paired stained glass windows on both sides of the frame as a mockery of my failed escape. “Let… Let me go… Let me go!”
He shifted his weight, applying more pressure to the injured leg. A scream tore free from my throat, anguish coiling around my spine as I squeezed my eyes closed to try and ground myself.
“Repeat what you said.”
