Cleo Horan
I reached my fucking limit.
Dear Ray wasn't around anymore, he'd left maybe twenty minutes ago and he left me alone... after one fucking hour of useless torturing and worthless stories of when Harry was visiting L.A. and blah blah blah.
Ray was clearly jealous of Harry and I wasn't sure what was the worst torture: the small cuts all over my thighs and arms or his words. He just wouldn't stop talking and my ears hurt, he was so fucking annoying.
A disgusting and pathetic excuse of a human being, who had a bruised little ego and probably a very small dick.
He didn't dare to rape me or touch me again, and I was sure he was scared to move me from my spot on the chair. I could tell he was wary though, as hard as he was trying to pretend he was in charge of the situation.
I could sense fear very easily, and I just knew I had intimidated him.
Maybe my pain tolerance surprised him.
He punched me once and tried to strangle me when I rolled my eyes during his storytime, but to be honest, Harry had choked me harder during sex than Ray had when he was trying to hurt me.
I was sure he was slowly realizing that he had been wrong about me.
Listening to rumors was one thing, and I was much worse than the rumors spread about me.
No one truly knew me, I didn't party around or got into trouble like Harry.
People only heard about the bodies I left behind, and Ray clearly underestimated me. He'd become one of the bodies, though.
Pain was something usual to me and I learned to enjoy it during my time with Harry, it was pretty easy for me to keep an unaffected expression while Ray tried to torture me. And I was sure I pissed him off because he left and said he was going to 'arrange shit' so he could get his reward.
Maybe he gave up on the idea of wanting to keep me... I wasn't sure if he was trying to look for Harry, but I just had a feeling Harry was also looking for him.
If Harry didn't panic and lose his mind because of Anne, if he even went to talk to her in the first place, then he was most likely on his way to find me.
I wasn't worried, I knew he'd come.
But I'd be out on my own before he showed up because my mood was even worse and I honestly lost all my fucking patience.
No one could fucking stop me when I was feeling like this, anger didn't begin to cover it.
There wasn't a lock on the door but I knew there were men outside, I heard Ray talking to them when he walked out. I didn't know how many, which sucked.
My head was still throbbing with pain and my muscles hurt too much. Everything hurt, from the fresh cuts all over my body and the deeper one on my face, to my missing finger or the gunshot wound on my shoulder.
Only one thing was stronger than the pain, and it was currently fueling my adrenaline... which was rage.
So I'd been trying to dislocate my thumb for the past ten minutes now, but it was much harder than Harry made it seem.
He was stronger than me, but it didn't mean I couldn't do it. And I also opted to dislocate my thumb on my right hand, where my finger was missing. I needed one fully functional hand once I got out of these ropes, I was already in a shitty shape to begin with.
I decided I was going to leave right now, so I was going to fucking leave.
Simple.
The rope around my wrists was tight though, and it was making my skin raw with each move or struggle, but I just needed to get out. I had to ignore the pain and the new cuts, I just had to do this.
