Run Free (sequel to A Lesson Never Learned)

t e n

——

Nora

——

I sat on the corner of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. I could feel my ribs and hipbones which were extremely visible due to Oliver neglecting to feed me. Josh would visit every morning, either with food, or a book for me to read. The gesture was sweet, really, but I wanted nothing more than to go home.

There was nothing I could say to Oliver that would convince him to let me go home. I begged Josh to talk to him about it, but Josh seemed reluctant. He explained that Oliver would just get more annoyed with me if I kept asking, and he could snap at any time, and Josh wouldn't be able to stop Oliver from killing me.

I sat in the corner of the bed, my knees up to my chest, staring out the window. When I first saw the window, I was excited, since I thought it was my way out. But when I examined it, I discovered that not only was it locked, but it also had two layers of stormproof plexiglass which was essentially impossible to break.

The room was designed like a secondary master bedroom. It had it's own small bathroom, not the one I was bathed in. This one only had a toilet and a sink.

The door creaked open, but I just sat there, my eyes never leaving the outside. Come to think of it, I haven't smelled the fresh air in a very long time. It made me feel sick to my stomach.

"You're just going to be wishing your life away." mused Oliver. I flinched as he glided his way to the window and flipped the shades shut. The room was doused in darkness and I felt myself lose the little sliver of happiness I had found in this situation disappear. "So you've met Josh." He looked at me for a response, smirking. I only stared at the shades. "And what did you think?"

I felt my stomach twist.

"You said he was dead. And it was my mom's fault. That's why you're doing this to me." I said quietly. "But...he's alive. So now I can see that you're actually a psychopath."

Oliver sighed, rolling his eyes. "I'm helping you."

I scoffed, feeling my eyes wet with tears.

"What, you don't believe me?" Oliver growled, grabbing my arm. I was wrenched out of my thoughts and yanked off of the bed. I crashed to the floor, feeling my stitches strain. I whimpered in pain, but Oliver just knelt down in front of me, still gripping my arm. He leaned in so he was very close to me, close enough that I felt his breath on my face.

"I'm saving you from your father's life. His way of life will only kill you. Look what it's done to you so far. He would turn you into a drug mule, and eventually, his recklessness would catch up to him and you would end up dead in a crossfire. Is that what you really want?"

"You're crazy." I snapped. "My dad would never put me in danger."

Oliver snorted, digging his nails into my skin. I hissed in a breath of pain, but I couldn't help but feel some twinge of satisfaction from getting a rise out of him.

"Your father doesn't give a shit about you. If he did, he would have come and rescued you by now. But he's just left you here to die. Doesn't that make you feel special?"

I felt the anger and hatred boil up inside of me. I didn't think before I collected saliva in my mouth and spat it in his face.

He flinched, but still held onto me.

He yanked me up to my feet and struck me across my face. My knees gave out and I felt the pain spread through my body. He kept slapping me over and over and over again. I trembled, trying to pull out of his grip, but it was like a steel vice.