Lacy - Z.M (Book 2, Malik Series)

31.

After I had kissed him, he hadn't visited as often as he did. Which gave me more time to carve this wood into something sharp to stab him.

I don't know how many times I've vomited but I'm thankful that it's over.

It's been exactly two weeks since I got here and every single time I feel like someone is close to saving me, Connor relocates to a different place.

I gaze down at the tracker in my arm and frown as I feel it.

Every inch of my body was either burned by wax, whipped or just plane swollen. My ankle was completely fucked and I know that if I try to walk on it again, it's going to break.

I've tried to elevate it, ice it with whatever water I could get from the tap and even rest it, but it doesn't seem to be getting any better.

I've finally come to the point of being afraid of Connor and that's something I didn't want.

I've blacked out dozens of times from the millions of ways he's hurt me.

I've vomited because his play time, what he likes to call it, is too much for me too even handle.

I'm in hell.

I had always thought that Zayn treated me like a damn fool, but this. This was personally made to torture me.

I told Rodney that Id rather die than be here and I wish that my wish could come true.

If I had the power in me to end my own life. I would. But life still seemed precious to me.

I'm still sitting in this room feeling sorry for myself.

I'm still sitting here with a billion splinters in my hand trying to carve this stake.

I'm still sitting here with my sanity completely destroyed.

And I'm still sitting here planning on how the fuck to get out of this place so I can kill the man who put me here.

Last thing he said to me was he loved me.

"Fuck him and his bullshit." I talk to myself. "I love you Alissa." I mock. "I love you but I'm going to hand you over to a complete psychopath."

I spit out the bile as the nauseas feeling builds in my stomach.

Fuck. I thought this was over.

I lick my lips and crawl towards the toilet as my stomach turns.

When I hear the door open, my worry rises as I hear Connor walking in from behind and I gasp as he grabs my hair.

"No-" I yelp as he pulls me up.

I balance on one leg and he narrows his gaze at me as I hold my mouth.

"I need to vomit!" I murmur.

Letting go of my head, I feel the rising vomit deposit out of my mouth and into the toilet as he watches over my shoulder.

Uncomfortable chills skate through my body as he pulls my hair out of my face and I sigh quietly before grabbing the toilet paper and wiping my face.

Throwing it in the toilet, I flush it and he sits down beside me, a frown on his face.

"Why do you keep vomiting?" He frowns.

"The smell in this room is horrible, Connor." I murmur. "It makes me sick."

He tilts his head at me, almost robotically and I shiver and look away from him.