❤ Stockholm Syndrome 🔫 | ✔

🖤 Chapter 34 🖤

Now we're back to the current timeline.

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I awaken with a searing headache and look around the room I'm in. There are three sofas in the room and I'm lying in the longest one that is against a wall. To my left, a table stands in the centre of the sofas; a vase with a single red rose inside is on it. Beyond the sofa across from me, is a small kitchen with an old stove and refrigerator. One window is on a wall to the far right of the sofa I'm in, but not much light is coming in because it is boarded up. Where the hell am I?

I observe my attire and notice that I'm no longer in my hospital gown, but in a short sapphire-blue dress.

A door opens somewhere behind me, causing me to sit up. James stands in front of the door with his arms crossed, a sour look on his face. He doesn't say anything. He just looms over me and stares, as if assessing me.

When I can't take the silence anymore, I ask, "Where are we?"

He doesn't answer, but closes the door and takes a seat on the sofa across for me.

"Why did you bring me away from the hospital?"

Silence is his answer.

"James, will you please talk to me?" I plead.

"I don't want to talk to you," he finally says, but that is not the answer I'm looking for. He gets up and comes to sit beside me, brushes my hair away from my right ear and whispers, "I want to kill you."

My eyes widen and I stare at him in shock. I start moving away from him, but before I can get far he pulls me back to his side. He retrieves a pocket knife from in his back pocket and flicks open the blade, running the cold metal along my thigh while giggling.

"You know, Erica...all this time, I thought you were finally coming around," he says as he lightly circles the blade on my skin. "I thought that you would finally fall for me, your husband. But then a stupid nurse comes along and you get all sheepish with him!" He yanks my head back by tugging on my hair and brings the knife up to my neck. "What do you think should be your punishment for that?" he seethes in my ear.

I remain quiet, taking in shaky breaths as he traces the sharp blade along the front of my neck. As he presses it down a bit harder, I feel a slight pinch and try to pull away.

"Ah, ah, ah," he says, smirking at me. "You'll only make things worse, and you don't want that, now, do you?" He takes away the knife from my neck and releases me. I look at the weapon in his hand and see that there's blood on the blade. I slowly bring my hand up and rub it against the spot I felt the pinch. The feeling of warm liquid covers my fingers and when I look down at it, I see blood. He cut me!