Death & Tequila [mxm]

40. Lemonade

Jaiden closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing and not vomit. He had felt disgusted and violated. He spit out a mixture of blood and saliva, hoping to remove the feeling of Christopher's thumb from his mouth.

Everything about Christopher made his skin crawl. He coughed again, suppressing the rising uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

He needed to get out of there. But that should be simple, right?

He just needed to break out of these ropes, go outside and run like hell... with an arm he could hardly move, a chest screaming every time he took a breath, a neck bruised to all hell, and a blinding migraine complemented with several head injuries that were starting to swell his eye shut. 

Yeah... simple.

He's going to look ridiculous running out of here.  He almost laughed at the mental image.  Shit. Nate really was bad for him.  At least he was still optimistic even after his mouth was finger fucked by a psychotic murderer.

So now he just needed to figure out how to escape.

Step one: get out of the goddamn chair.

But, there was no easy option here. There were no tools he could use. No luck he could tap into. No god he could pray to. What could possibly be the light at the end of the tunnel in this situation?

This wasn't a 'make lemonade' kind of situation. This was more of a 'clench your asshole and hoped you don't get fucked by life's special lemons' moment.  Carlos was right; life's a puta.

Fuck.

He tried to concentrate on his current situation. He needed to suppress all the traumatic bullshit he had just experienced and save it for his therapist. At this moment, he needed to figure out how to get out of here and survive.

Christopher knew how to break his victims mentally. He had been doing it to Jaiden for two years now, manipulating his emotions and toying with him. So if he allowed Christopher to strip away his power, he was done for. The moment he became weak would be the moment he died.

If he dies, Toni will be next. Toni would have to experience the hell he lived through for two years.  And then he would fall into this madness... this abominable game.

The only way to stop that is to survive. Live. Go home to him.

He knew how to get out, but the process would be hell.  Knowing the pain waiting for him made him falter for a second.  And every moment he would have to endure after that was terrifying enough that he broke out in a sweat.

If Carlos were here, he would ask him, "Do you run away or take a stand and run forward?" Jaiden knew the answer. He gave it to him years ago.

"What the hell. I'm a fighter through and through." He said quietly, his throat hoarse but filled with resolve.

He listened carefully to his surroundings and heard Christopher calling out for Sierra. At least he hadn't found her just yet, which gave him time.  He also seemed somewhat distant, so perhaps he wouldn't hear him.  He was grateful that Christopher didn't seem bothered that he left Jaiden alone. Maybe he had too much confidence in these ropes.

Jaiden pulled at the ropes wrapped around his arm and felt how they had become loose after Christopher kicked him.  He shifted a little and felt the chair wobble and creak. The wood was pretty fucked up, which was good for him. Still, he shuddered a little knowing what he had to do next.

"This is going to hurt like a motherfucker." He told himself. He leaned forward a little on his toes and swayed awkwardly. When he felt like he had enough weight shifted, he took a couple of deep breaths and threw himself backward with the chair.