The week passed by in fragments and pieces, slipping through my fingers like sand. I barely remembered what day it was half the time. I only knew because the notice glared at me every time I passed the kitchen table, the black ink heavy as chains.
And now… it was here.
Day seven.
I woke with the weight of it pressing down on my chest, dragging me out of sleep. My stomach churned. Today was the deadline. Today was the day Alexander expected me to crawl back to him, sign my name, and shackle myself to him for two years.
I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the morning light as it crept across my wall. I told myself I wouldn't do it. I wouldn't bend. I'd find another way, somehow. With Ian's help, with anyone's help, I could fight this. I had to believe that. I can't just let him win like that, I had to try I wasn't a coward.
So I spent the day doing what little I could to ignore the panic eating me alive. I stayed in, wrapped in pajamas, spooning cold ice cream straight from the carton as if it could numb me from the inside out. I flipped through channels I didn't watch. I sat in silence so thick I swore I could hear the clock tick louder with every passing second.
By the time night fell, the air felt heavier, pressing down on me. Shadows crawled across the walls. I was curled up on the couch when it started.
The pounding.
Sharp. Violent. Each slam rattled the door, on its hinges. i just spent a few dollars to repair because it was broken down and I can't stay in a house with no doors, just my neighbors peering in on me and wondering how I ended up with a broken down door.
My blood ran cold. My spoon from the ice cream clattered to the floor.
I froze, my chest rising and falling too fast, my ears straining.
"Open the door!" A voice barked from the other side. That's starting to sound familiar. Deep. Cruel.
My legs moved before my mind could fully process it. I stumbled toward the peephole, pressing my eye against it. And when I saw him my stomach dropped like a stone.
The same man. The one with the gun from the last time.
His face was shadowed by the hall light, but I knew that sneer, those merciless eyes. The memory of the bullet tearing past my cheek flashed through me, and I nearly staggered back from the door.
He slammed his fist against it again. "I know you're in there! Miss Reyes."
Panic clawed up my throat. I spun toward the kitchen, every muscle screaming at me to move. My hand went to the same cabinet as last time, and I pulled out the same knife. My fingers shook around the handle.
Useless. Useless.
I knew it was. The last time I'd held this blade, I'd been humiliated, terrified, bleeding. But it was all I had.
The door groaned under another blow. I knew it wouldn't hold for long. My breath came fast and shallow as I backed toward my bedroom. The knife felt slippery in my palm.
Think, Bella. Think fast
And then an idea came up in my head.
The window. Risky I knew that but I wasn't left with much of a choice.
I dropped the carton of ice cream still clutched in my other hand, stumbling toward the back of the apartment. My window opened to the first-floor balcony railing. It wasn't safe, but it was better than waiting for him to break through that door and who knows what he would do to me this time around.
I shoved it open, the cool night air rushing in. My heart thundered in my ears. Behind me, the pounding grew louder, angrier.
"Last chance, miss, open up now!"
I swung one leg out onto the railing, gripping the knife in one hand, the window frame in the other. My foot slipped against the slick metal, and for a second, my breath caught, I nearly lost my balance. My body trembled as I clung to the edge.
One wrong move, one slight mistake and I'd fall.
But staying inside wasn't really an option either. I had to try, I won't be a sitting duck, waiting for whatever awaited me on the other side of the door, who's to say I would survive this time?."
So I pressed myself against the wall, the knife still clutched tight in my hand and forced myself onto the narrow rail just as the sound of splintering wood cracked through the air behind me. The door finally gave in.
They were in.
And I was out.