All I can think about is getting to Turner and killing these two cockroaches. God, I wish I had that knife right now. What the hell am I going to do? I am helpless and defenseless here.

I want so badly to walk across the hall to check on Turner and make sure he really is alive, yet here I stand docilely waiting for the man I hate. Believing in him and trusting him with our lives. I laugh out loud at that thought and how crazy it sounds.

I turn and press my body up against the door and sink to the floor. I keep my eyes trained on the window that is now wide open. The warm summer air is blowing through and I welcome it as I start to get impatient waiting for Trent. I keep a close watch on the alarm clock sitting on the small nightstand next to his bed. It’s been eleven minutes now since he walked out of this room.

The doorknob jiggles and I hear the keys jingling in the lock. I stand up and my eyes go wide as I keep them glued to the door. Quickly, I scan the room for some kind of weapon to protect myself, but there is nothing. This room is spotless. I don’t even see anything I could use as a weapon until my eyes land on a row of metal coat hangers hanging lazily in the small closet.

“I am coming for you, bitch.”

The sound of James’ voice makes me move my feet and I am grabbing a coat hanger off of the rod in no time. The door swings open just as I tuck the hanger behind me out of sight.

The bastard actually licks his lips as he saunters over to me and grabs me by my hair, and then flings me helplessly onto the floor. I somehow manage to keep my hand behind my back as I lay on my side, trembling.

“Where’s Trent?”

              “Don’t worry about Trent. He ain’t coming back for you, girl. In fact, he ain’t coming back at all. Fine by me. Now I’m going to taste exactly what my boy seems to be infatuated with.”

He tries to kick me over onto my back, but I don’t budge.

              “What do you m-mean, he isn’t coming back?”

I’m trying to rein in my fear. James starts to laugh, but then his expression contorts from laughter to pain etched across his face. He looks straight at me and then it hits me as I cower.

              “Oh my God! You killed him, didn’t you? You killed your own son?”

He doesn’t have to answer me; I can see it in his eyes. Oh, no. Even though I hated Trent, I feel as if his death is on my own hands because he was leaving to try and save my life and ended up being murdered at the hands of his own father.

              “You don’t think I knew about my son’s infatuation with you? Look at that damn shrine on the wall over there.” He extends his hand out in the direction of the wall.

              “I told him over and over again not to fall for you, that all women are fucking whores and that is the only thing any of you are good for. Some of you aren’t even good for that. But did he listen to me? Fuck, no. Fell for you the first time he laid his fucking eyes on you. You must be one good fuck there, bitch, to get both of my sons to fall in love with you. It’s about time I see what that pussy of yours has that no other slut does, because it must be damn good.”

He scans me up and down and lingers his eyes a little too long at my core.

              “You sick man! You will have to kill me before I ever let you get your hands on me.”

My words result in a slap across the face. I have had enough of being slapped and punched by men to last me a lifetime and I writhe along the floor trying to escape him.

              “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

My resistance seems to appeal to him as he squats down and grabs hold of my face.

              “I like em when they fight. Makes me want you all the more.”

He grabs a handful of my hair and drags me a few feet. Before I have the chance to try and do anything with the hanger, he has me on my back with my hand securely underneath me as he straddles me. He starts ripping at my shirt while holding me down with his other hand wrapped securely around my neck, making it hard to breathe. His fingers dig into the already tender flesh. I am kicking and clawing at his face with my nails, tearing into his flesh. His face twists and he grimaces in pain as blood starts to trickle down his cheek. H lets go of his grip around my neck.

              “You fucking worthless bitch!”

He shoves his gun against my temple, and the world stands still for me as I hear the click of a bullet being loaded into the chamber.

              “You can fight me all you want, but I am getting what I came in here for. The more you fight me the better I like it. Now get up. Your life will end when and where I say it does, and it sure as hell won’t be in this fucking room.”

I don’t care if me fighting him makes him angrier or turns him on. I am not getting up. I already know I am a dead woman, with Turner behind a locked door severely beaten and unable to even move, and Trent somewhere dead.

“You want to go the hard way then, huh? Well, let’s go. The quicker I fuck you and kill you, the quicker I can get the hell out of here before your fucking family finds you. Though I would love to be here and see their looks of horror when they discover your beautiful face all mangled and beaten and your body sliced all the way from your pussy to your neck. Hell, maybe I will even cut you up into little pieces and throw them all over the place. That might be fun, too.”

He’s becoming more enraged by the second and yet I refuse to budge. That doesn’t stop him from grabbing my legs and dragging me across the room as the carpet brushes roughly across my back, burning me.

It’s so hard to act rationally when you are being attacked. The minute we enter the small hallway and he is pulling me past the room where I know Turner is, I scream. An ear-piercing scream of fear and dread as I swing out my hands and grab the doorframe.

              “Turner! If you can hear me at all, please remember always how much I love you!” I yell with panic ripping through my body as James struggles to yank me forward and I hang on with determination.

My hands and fingers are slowly giving out against the strength of my attacker. He is grunting as he tugs and pain shears though my arms and legs as I let go. He drags me just a few more feet before dropping my legs and towering over me.

“Bitch! You need to be taught a lesson! You want to fight me all the way, then fine, because right here is where I am going to end your life,” he sneers and lowers himself right onto my stomach, knocking all the wind completely out of me.

I am trying to gasp for air and every time I take a breath I inhale the reeking, disgusting odor of this man. It’s enough to make me gag and cough as I feel like I am choking on my own bile. He doesn’t care, though, as he slaps me in the face over and over again. I screech and try to block his blows with my hands covering my face as he continues to pound away at me.

“You have ruined my entire plan, you fucking bitch, and you are going to die! Do you hear me? I am going to kill you, Clove! Kill you with my bare hands, and after I am sure you are good and dead I am going to burn this fucking place down with the three of you in it!”

His face is red from his rage. All I can think about is wishing I still had that coat hanger in my hand. I can see it not far from where we are. I know I can reach it if I can just move six short inches, so I start to squirm and kick and do everything in my power to move my body closer.