His game (being rewritten)

Chapter XIII

Flame

*Flashback*

A few months had passed since the night of the gala. Things changed. Yet, I can't decide whether for the better o the wors. Landon has intoxicated my whole being. Thinking about how he has changed my life, how he showed what being loved meant has changed my mood, my feeling about life. Before him, there was this unspoken thought lingering in my head, that the only way out of this nightmare I call Grant is death; but now... I want to get out of here to live. To love, to be able to hold the man I have fallen in love with in my arms in the cold night, when we both are slowly falling asleep, thinking about what the future will hold for us, both silently praying it's going to be trouble-free and peaceful. 

But faith and hope faded away when one day Grant came home pissed as hell. 

"You f*****g bitch." he slammed his hand down on the kitchen island near the knife holder, making me jump. Chills went down my spine as I looked into his eyes and couldn't see anything human lingering inside them. He was the devil; evil incarnated. "You thought I wouldn't find out?!" He took a threatening step toward me, and I took one back. "That I wouldn¨t find out you let him f**k that little p***y of yours?!" another step forward and another step back from me. "I-I have no idea what you're talking about..." I tried to keep my voice steady, to not give him a reason to lose the little piece of sanity he had left. "I thought we established that this was mine." he lunged himself at me, making ma back hit the kitchen counter. He grabbed my upper arm so hard I cried out and the other hand was tugging at my zipper. "Maybe you just need a little reminder?" his voice was bittersweet, yet cold as ice, the smell of alcohol emitting from his every breath; he disgusted me. I don't know how or when, but I gathered enough courage to talk back to him; "What, you wanna r**e me?" I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat at the thought of that. I could hear the low chuckle that emitted from his lips. He kissed my jaw, then dragged his nose up to my ear, before whispering "If I have to." my breath quickened and I knew I had to be smart. I had to get out of his clutches before it was too late, so I used the little knowledge I had about self-defense, lifting my knee, kicking him in the crotch. He cried out and loosened his grip on me just enough that I could escape, but it didn't last long, He composed himself so quickly, that I could only run to the knife holder, which was either a good or a bad thing. "You really made me angry now, babe," he said with a wicked grin on his face. I could lie and tell you I wasn't afraid, but I can't because I was scared shitless. He again stared dragging his nose down the column of my nack, his hands grabbing at my breasts, he seamed distracted enough for me to reach my hand back and grab one of the knives. 

Before I could do anything with my gained weapon, I felt immense pain in my wrist. "Are you f*****g kidding me?!" he roared, gripping my wrist even tighter. I could hear the knife fall back down on the kitchen island. Before I could blink, I felt the cold blade on my throat. "You love to play with fire, don't you sweetcheeks?"  I shivered. "You f*****g maniac." "Ah ah ah. Wouldn't talk to me like that if I were you. Wouldn't want to kill you so fast, still wanna taste that sweet little p***y of yours. " That was it, the last straw for me to push back at him. I grabbed his arms, pushing him off me with all my strength. He didn't fall, he just stumbled back and when I wanted to run, he tackled me, clearly forgetting about the knife he was holding. My head hit the hard floor, making my vision blurry, and black dots started to appear, making it hard for me to stay conscious. Hard stabbing pain in my lower abdomen made me pass out for good. The last I could remember was the sweet, velvety smooth angelic voice, that brought me peace in my times of despair. 

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