Chapter 2 Let Me Go

Anna's POV

"Stop! Let me go!" I shouted, my voice breaking.

My shout echoed through the walls, but he just kept on pulling my nude body out of the bathroom.

"Don't be so dumb Anna," he growled, "I swear I'm not gonna make it painful for ya, my cock isn't that big."

Using my free leg, I kicked him solidly between his legs.

He winced in agony, his two hands fumbling to his zipper, but before I could stand up, his hand grasped on my ankle again.

"I never knew you were so much of a fighter," he snarled, his face twisted in a sick grin. "This is going to be fun."

I slapped him in the face with every last bit of strength I possessed, but slapping a wall would have served better. He licked the small blood on his lip and smiled like a madman.

"Kinky," he spat, hunching over me.

"No!" I screamed, attempting to shove him away, but he was too large. Blurry tears convulsed my eyes as I saw him unbuckling his belt.

I looked around, until I saw a scissors on the bed, I grabbed it in an instant.

I held it and without hesitation, I pushed it into his arm.

He screamed, recoiling as blood gushed from the wound.

I didn't wait. I punched him in the throat with trembling fists. His breath was cut off, he wheezed, gasped, and then collapsed on the floor, choking.

I ran, gasping, and grabbed the first dress I could find. My hands were shaking as I looked down at him. Everything was covered in blood.

"Oh God," I hardly whispered, wondering if he was dead.

I picked up the phone and dialed 911, trembling while speaking. "Please—please, my foster brother, he's hurt. He attacked me. He's bleeding. Hurry up."

"Where's your address?" The woman on the phone asked.

"468, Vortex road," I stuttered.

"Hold on. We'll be there in three minutes."

I nodded. "Please hurry."

I hung up, and put my phone back down, placing my hand on my chest, I looked at Sam who was still unconscious. "Don't die, please."

I had already decided to tie something around his arm to seal the wound, but before I could do so, the bedroom door slammed open with a bang.

I stood frozen in place as my gaze met Linda's ghastly face.

She stood for a moment gaping as though she could not believe her eyes.

Then she screamed, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Anna! What have you done to my son?" she shrieked, rushing to Sam's side.

"I—I didn't… he attempted to—" My voice trembled as I stuttered.

Patrick appeared at that point. His cold gaze surveyed the blood, the scissors, Sam on the floor, and me standing in the center of it all, stunned and smeared with Sam's blood.

Linda shrieked in horror, cradling Sam's head. "She attempted to murder him, Patrick! She tried to kill our son!"

Patrick sneered. "I knew it. A curse in human form."

He pulled out his phone and never looked away from me, turned around and left.

I didn't know what to do, I addressed myself to Linda.

"It's not what you think, ma'am," I attempted to defend myself, my voice shaking. "Linda, listen, please."

Don't you so much as look at me, you bloody psycho!" she spat, her eyes burning with fury. "What bloody excuse are you going to come up with for stabbing my son? Huh?"

I just stood there, not being able to think of anything else to say. I was reasoning that maybe I should not have stabbed him, but how was I supposed to escape his tight grip otherwise? Let him get his way? And then be accused of leading him on, too!.

She clutched Sam's neck, her tears falling onto his pale face. "Please, baby, don't die on me," she wept. "We're going to make her pay for what she did to you. I swear."

Her words cut me deeper than the scissors had ever done before. My lips trembled, but words would not leave my mouth.

Then, a few minutes later, Patrick was back in the room, this time with paramedics running in behind him.

They pushed Linda aside gently and felt for Sam's pulse, their fingers dancing as they wrapped bandage stuff against his bleeding arm.

"He's lost a lot of blood," one of them growled. "But he'll be fine if we stabilize him now."

I gasped shakily, relief and fear churning in my chest.

They bore Sam away on a stretcher, their footsteps echoing down the hall.

Linda ran after them, calling out his name, her tears shattering the silence.

Patrick hung around. He stood inside the door, his large frame taking up the space like a shadow that I couldn't escape.

"I didn't want to hurt him," I whispered, my throat closing up. "It was an accident. He tried raping me."

Patrick dropped his head, glancing at me with the same cruel smile he'd flashed a moment earlier. He shook his head theatrically, whistling as if he'd just received an award.

"Poor Anna," he breathed, almost with sympathy. "I knew it was only a matter before you would dig yourself into a hole you'd never be able to crawl out of. I just didn't know it was going to be this soon."

My lips parted, the words frozen in my throat. I felt like screaming, getting him to believe me, pleading with someone to believe me.

But I couldn't get a word out before heavy footsteps echoed in the hallway yet again.

Two police officers in uniform walked into the room. Their faces were stony and unyielding.

"Are you Anna Robert?" one of them interrogated.

"I am Anna," I replied, my voice cracking.

"You're under arrest for attempted murder," spoke the older officer. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say may be used against you in a court of law."

I lacked the leg strength to stand upright. "No; this isn't fair," I muttered, shaking my head. "I didn't—"

Cold metal encircled my wrists. That sound was like... well, as if the nail was already driven into the coffin.

Patrick did not move. He stood in the doorframe, looking on with arms crossed, his lips curling into a wicked smile. "You're going to make sure you rut in the Iron King Prison."