Hide (Sequel to RUN)

Chapter 12

When my eyes fluttered open, a brick slammed into my head. That's what it felt like, anyway. I groaned and closed my eyes again, falling back into sheets.

I froze. I wasn't in a bed when I fell asleep. Was I? Had there been a shower running?

I fought hard to recall what had happened before sleep had taken me. I'd been at...at Tristan's. Yes. That was right.

In his bed, though? No, we'd been down the rabbit hole.

I pressed the heels of my hands into each of my eyes, trying to remember what happened after that, but I only drew a blank.

With more bravery than it should've taken and a large groan, I opened my eyes and looked around the room. The bedroom was small, with just enough room for the double bed, a side table, a small chair in the corner, a dresser, and two doors. The shower was behind the door to my right.

Upon further inspection, I noticed the clothes strewn over the floor. A pile of girl's clothes...and a line of men's. To make matters worse, two pairs of underwear and a bra were thrown into the mix.

With horror ceasing my heart, I lifted the sheets and took a look at my body. My naked body. Those clothes were mine. Was I...?

Before I could even finish the thought, I slipped into instinct. Fight or flight, right? My mind chose flight. I jumped out of the bed and ran to the pile of clothes. My fingers picked the bra and the pair of underwear from the pile and slipped them onto my body. I also fished the men's sweats and t-shirt out of their pile before darting to the door and slipping out of it quietly. I might not feel uncomfortable being seen naked, but that doesn't mean other people feel the same way.

The door was shut noiselessly and the shirt fluttering over my stomach before I smelled the eggs. I looked up to find a man with his back turned to me standing in a half kitchen.

I thought back to the sound of the shower running. There were two of them?

The terror that I'd felt only moments before transformed into a simmering rage. I was done with being taken advantage of. Without wasting any time, I let gravity take the sweats and began stalking my prey. At the very edge of the kitchen, there was a drying rack that held an assortment of dishes. Among which was a frying pan.

An evil smile played at my lips as I snagged the perfectly situated pan without making a sound. It weighed nicely in my hand, but I still swung it around a bit before moving it up by my head.

The pan flew threw the air, guided by my wrists, and found its mark at the side of the man's head. The clang emanated through the house, somehow igniting my rage even farther. When the man crumpled, I stood over him for a split moment. He had started shouting and had covered his face with his hands.

But what did that matter? He had helped get me into that bed. I knew it. And I was tired of men drugging me and playing with me like a doll. He would get no mercy from me.

My vision turned redder with each beat of my racing heart, and I was waging war soon enough. The shouting man convulsed on the ground with every shockwave of every precise kick. The frying pan even joined in for a couple of swings before my feet budged in again.

He grabbed at my feet, toppling me to the floor. With a growl, I practically pounced on him and let my fists loose.

His arms jerked and swatted at me under my knees as I pummeled his chest and face. His nails dug into my skin several times, but I barely felt them doing their worst. The blood pounding in my ears was too loud to hear anything. The red overtaking my mind was too strong for me to hear or make any details out.