Lost Without You: Book 2 in the Chasing Olivia Series (28 page)

“I had to pee,” I whisper.

“Well, if you can be a good girl, I’ll leave the chain on. Otherwise, I’ll tie you back up to the bed.”

“I’ll be good,” I plead.

“I know you will. Here, I brought you something to eat.” Evan places a paper bag on the bed. “It’s a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I know how much you love those,” he mutters, a trace of sadness in his voice. Next to the bag is a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” I whisper, my voice weak. I’m hesitant to take either. What if the water is drugged, or worse, he put poison in the sandwich? Seeing my hesitation, he says, firmer, “I said, I brought you a sandwich.”

I’m not hungry,” I insist.

“Don’t make me angry,” Evan growls. “Eat the fucking sandwich.” Unwrapping it, he practically shoves it in my face.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” Taking the sandwich in my hands, I nibble the bread. Once I take a few bites, I realize how hungry I am and devour it within seconds. A smile crosses Evan’s face for a fleeting moment.

“That’s better.” Evan opens the bottle of water for me, placing it in my attached hands. The water is down my dry throat and the bottle empty before he can put the cap down. “Thirsty, were we?”

“Yes,” I admit. I’m not really sure how long I’ve been here, and this is the first time I’ve had anything to eat or drink, but I know I’ll need everything ounce of strength in order to escape.

After I’ve finished, Evan stands and starts to leave, but I stop him. “Evan,” I say as sweetly as I can muster.

“Yes, Liv?”

“You were right. I don’t know how I could have been so stupid,” I say, deciding to change my approach.

“Go on,” he murmurs, his expression thawing slightly.

“Chase was fun, but he isn’t you. Seeing you with Brandi, and then finding out she was pregnant, made me so angry.” I try the jealous girlfriend act, and Evan seems to buy it.

“Really?” he asks.

“We were supposed to be married, and she ruined it.”

“Yes, that was rather unfortunate.”

“We can start over, things can be different.”

“I was hoping you would say that.”

“Evan,” I say, pushing down the bile rising in my throat, “untie me so we can make love the way we used to.”

Evan slowly walks toward the bed and leans in close to my ear. “You want me to untie you so you can ride me the way you used to?”

“Yes,” I choke out, schooling my features so he can’t see how disgusted I am.

He runs his nose along my jaw. “I love how you would grind your pussy against my cock. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, Evan.” Fuck, I don’t know if I can do this. I
have
to do this. Smiling, I look up at his face, trying to sense what he’s thinking. He remains impassive, but there’s a trace of a smile across his lips.

“You want me deep inside of you, fucking you until you explode?”

Make it believable, Liv.
“All night.”

Evan reaches for my bound wrists, gripping the rope keeping me in my place.

“Nice try, Liv, but your tricks won’t work on me,” Evan says, laughing.

“What do you mean, tricks? You brought me here to see how good we could have it, and I want to know.”

“You’re lying so I’ll let you go.”

“No, Evan. I love you, and missed you.”

“Liar!” he snarls.

“Nooooo! Let! Me! Go!” I wail, swinging my bound wrists toward his head. Evan catches my hands, squeezing hard.

“Now, that’s not being a good girl, is it?”

“Fuck you, Evan! And for the record, you sucked in bed. I faked it every time.” Evan smacks me across the face.

“You loved it when I fucked you,” he growls, gripping my wrists harder.

“I liked being on top so I could actually feel your tiny dick inside of me!”

Walking away, Evan regains his composure. “You keep this up, it’ll be a long six months.”

“Six months! You can’t keep me here that long!”

“No, you’re right. Once the winter is over, people will start coming back to the island. That’s why I bought a boat,” he says, moving out of my line of sight.

“Evan!” I scream, but he ignores me. I thrash on the bed, jerking my arms and hands in attempt to release the binding—trying any and everything I can, but it’s no use. My already weak body crashes from the extra adrenaline and I fall back, my limbs useless.

A moment later, Evan enters the room, completely naked. “Please, don’t,” I whisper, knowing it’s in vain.

“Do you want a boy or girl, Olivia?” he hisses, inching his way toward the bed. Flinging off the covers, he lunges toward me. I try to roll off the bed, but I’m too slow. Grabbing me by the waist, he flips me so I’m on my stomach.

“Evan, please,” I sob. He bends next to my ear, his breathing labored, his chest sweaty against my back. He’s so heavy, he has me completely pinned and immobile. I close my eyes, praying it will be quick.

“I’ll teach you who’s boss, you little whore,” he says through gritted teeth, continuing his assault. With each thrust of his pelvis, my thoughts of escaping die a little more. Cold tears stain my cheeks as I close my eyes and give up, becoming completely numb.

Finishing, he gets up and saunters out of my view. “I’ll be back in a little while. Try to behave while I’m gone,” Evan yells across the house a few minutes later before closing the front door.

I lay on the bed, exactly where Evan left me, and wait. Wait for that crazy psychopath to be far enough away from me, and when I’ve waited long enough, I completely break down. I’m terrified, afraid there’s more to this, something worse.

I stand up, but a wave of dizziness crashes over me and I fall back on the bed. Steadying myself, I rise again slowly. After a few moments, I walk toward the blacked out window, one slow step at a time, dragging the chain behind me. His cum drips down the inside of my thighs and a sob escapes me. Covering my mouth with my bound hands, I fight the overwhelming feeling of dread. I can do this, I just need to believe I can.

As I approach the window, there’s a tiny flicker of light toward the bottom. Evan’s blacked it out almost completely, but there’s a spot in the corner I can see out. Using my fingernails, I try to scrape some of the paint off, but the layer is too thin. Peering out, I can see daylight, but it’s noticeably darker than the middle of the day. I’m not sure if it’s early morning or late afternoon. Straining my one good eye, I try to see what’s outside.

The house next door is pretty close and the sun reflects off the window, which means it’s getting dark. If I can just figure out a way to get these ropes free . . . the window! If I can just break the window, I can use the glass to cut through the ropes. The windows were never great for insulation, which probably means they are single paned. If I could just find something to break it with . . .

The light glints off the chain attached to my hands. It’s not very thick, but combined with my body weight, it might work. I bend slowly to gather the slack in the chain, and fold them together, creating a length I can swing. With shaking fingers, I grip the metal and wait a few minutes to ensure Evan is gone. Taking a deep breath, I rear back and hit the window with every inkling of strength I have left. I hit it over and over, but my arms start to burn and the effort becomes too vast.

With the last sliver of adrenaline I have, I drop the chain, back up a few steps, and charge forward, hitting the window with my shoulder. Sharp, blinding pain radiates from where I hit, causing me to fall to the floor.

Curling up into a ball, I sob uncontrollably, feeling hopeless. I’m too weak, too bruised and broken to help myself. I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping this all really is a nightmare and I’ll wake up at any minute. How did I not see this? How did I never see how crazy Evan was? Opening my eyes, I stare into the darkness, the sun beginning to set, casting an eerie glow from the gap in the window.

The light shifts and something under the bed catches my eye. I inch forward and reach out, stretching to my full ability, my fingers grazing the box just slightly. Straining, I stretch more, crying out in pain as I force my muscles to push further. My arm burns, a shooting pain blasting from my elbow to my shoulder and neck. My fingers connect with the top of a box and I pull, easing it closer before my arm gives out. Taking a deep breath, I calm my mind while tears burst forth from the pain and a fresh feeling of hope blooming in my chest. Evan was thorough, but he missed something.

Stretching my arm again, I touch the box easily and pull it toward me. I struggle to maneuver into a sitting position, gritting my teeth at the tightness in my skin and legs. Knowing Evan could be home at any moment, I focus on the box in front of me and not the pain. Lifting it into my lap, I shift the cover off and move it to the side. A fresh wave of tears wash down my face as I stare at the shell and rock collection my dad and I built when I was a kid. I used to keep it under my bed so he would always be close to me.

Swiping the tears from my cheeks, I lift the biggest rock I can find and test its weight in my hand before inching myself back onto my feet. I breathe through the pain in sharp hisses and grip the rock in my fist. Slowly bringing my arm back, I launch forward and smash the window. A tiny crack appears, and I do it again, and again, until my arm crashes through the window, glass shattering down around it. “Yes!” I call out, unable the help myself. A smile spreads across my face as I remove my arm from the hole, ignoring the cuts, and carefully pluck the shards from the pane.

Finding the longest, sharpest piece, I sit down, place the glass between my legs, and pull the rope connecting my arms down on top of it. I run my arms up and down, feeling the burn in my muscles even more than before, but I push through, knowing I’m dead if Evan comes home right now. After a few minutes, the rope starts to fray. Gritting my teeth and biting my lip, I push faster, harder, and scream out as the glass cuts into my legs. A sob rips from my chest and I heave in a breath.

I cry out into the room, my body screaming for me to stop, but I don’t. I keep moving, keep sawing back and forth even as the glass starts to slip on the blood from the cuts. Throwing my head back, I saw harder, until my hands drop down to my sides, free. I sit there for a moment, knowing my chance to leave is now, but my body protests against the movement. I listen to make sure Evan hasn’t returned and force my body to stand.

I stumble out of the bedroom toward the kitchen, my legs rejecting every step. Grapping a knife from the drawer, I shuffle toward the master bedroom. Not even bothering to look for my clothes, I reach into the dresser, pull out a t-shirt, and carefully slip it over my head. Whimpers fall from my lips before I can stop them as the shirt brushes over my abused flesh. I ignore the pain and stumble out the patio door, needing to get as far away as I can. Walking as fast as my legs can carry me, I stay close to the brush surrounding the island, knowing I can use it to hide if necessary.

As I see a figure walking up the boardwalk toward me, I drop low in the brush.

Evan’s walking up the boardwalk toward the front of the house. If I lay still enough, he won’t see me. The boardwalk is elevated, and hopefully I’m low enough to the ground to blend in with the foliage. Holding my breath, I watch and wait as Evan gets closer. As he passes me and walks up the steps to the door, I let out the breath I was holding.

“Olivia, I’m back,” he says as he enters the house. “Fuck!” Evan yells, followed by a raucous of slamming and pounding. Getting as close to the ground as I can, I try to make myself invisible.

Evan runs out the front door, scanning frantically for any sign of me. “Olivia!” he shouts, “Come out, come out, wherever you are!” He walks down the boardwalk, away from me. “You can’t hide from me, I’ll find you,” he snarls, pacing down to the end of the walk before turning back toward me. “You’re just making it worse for yourself.”

My body starts to shiver, and I’m not sure if it’s because I’m cold or scared shitless. Clamping my teeth, I try to prevent them from chattering. “Olivia! Come out right now! I know you’re here somewhere!” he screams, walking right by me. “When I find you, and I will, you’ll regret hiding from me,” he growls, unable to hide his panic.

Walking down the boardwalk, he turns toward the marina. I don’t know if I should move, but I know I can’t stay here. I need to find a place to lay low, somewhere Evan would never think to look . . . his boat. Every boat captain leaves their key in their boat on a floating keychain, and Evan would be no exception. With luck, I can leave that maniac fuck here and take off.

I crawl through the bushes, staying as far away from the boardwalk as possible. Slithering on my belly, I ignore the stabbing pain in my shoulder and the cold, hard ground scraping against my thighs.

A rustling noise in the brush startles me, causing me to gasp. My hand flies through the air to cover my mouth, not wanting to give myself away. Standing a few feet in front of me is a buck, unaware of my presence. My heart rate picks up; if the deer doesn’t see me, Evan can’t either. I wait a few minutes before continuing my crawl, listening intently for any signs of Evan. When I’m absolutely sure he’s nowhere to be seen, my body slumps, and I take a minute to breathe.

I look around, realizing how close I am to the docks. Peering upward, I check out who’s boats are still in their slips. Only one stands out, and it pales in comparison to the others that have been left here for the winter.

I breathe in and count to three before making a mad dash toward the vessel, running as fast as my body will allow. My legs feel like lead weights, pain burning through my muscles, but I can’t stop. Willing myself to keep going, the boat inches closer and closer.

Stumbling over my own feet, I trip forward, my arms whirling as my body slams into the dock. My head bounces off the hard surface and stars dance in front of my eyes. Shaking my head, I try to clear my vision and shuffle my feet, needing to move. Now. I push myself up and sprint forward, my bare feet tearing from the rough wood.

With agility I didn’t know I had, I leap from the dock onto the cushion seat at the back of the boat, bounce off, and land in a crouch just in front of the cabin stairs. Pressing my body flat, I hope to the heavenly gods he didn’t see me.