OBSESSED

66

LEAH

I waited until he went completely limp. His limbs sagged at odd angles and his face was smooshed into the mattress.

I poked him rather violently in the cheek and he didn't flinch. Once it registered in my mind that he was truly out cold, I jumped away from him faster than I could blink.

My knees trembled at first. I stared at his slumped form in disbelief before shaking myself out of it and bolting.

My feet burned from how quickly I moved across the wood floors to the door. I grabbed the handle and flipped the lock.

The door didn't budge. I tried twice more to make it open and then I realized there was a padlock over my head locking the inside of the door.

What the fuck is wrong with him?

Stumbling back, I bit back a sob and turned around.

How was I ever going to find those fucking keys?

I wanted to vomit at the thought of going back into that bedroom.

Heart in my throat, I checked the kitchen drawers and under the counters and chairs. It had to be either on him or somewhere in the bedroom. I curled my fingers into a fist until my palm ached.

I padded down the hall on nervous feet. If he wasn't on the bed exactly as I left him, I was going to just jump through a fucking window.

My nerves all felt raw and vulnerable as I made my way into the room. Jarrod's figure was on the bed in seemingly the same shape.

I knew from personal experience that his little rape drugs lasted several hours, which meant I had time to find the damn key and escape.

Still, I didn't like it. Jarrod was bigger than me so he probably had a higher tolerance.

Shit.

I started going through the dresser and tearing everything out. I found where Jarrod kept his Zyrem stash and threw the syringes onto the floor. It felt good to see them broken and useless.

As soon as I stepped forward, though, I stepped on a chard and screeched.

My jaw reeled shut while I turned to look at Jarrod. He remained completely unperturbed.

Jesus, I needed to get a grip.

I danced around the other pieces of glass until I was beside the bed, dangerously close to the sleeping monster. My throat seemed to tighten just looking at him so I continuously swallowed back the panic.

I had to check him. If the key was in his pocket, I could finally get the hell out of here.

I inched closer to him. But what if I woke him up? Flinching, I bit back a whimper.

Just do it, I pleaded with myself.

I rushed forward and placed my hands on his sweatpants. At first I rubbed the outside of the pockets because I couldn't fit my hand in either of them from the angle he was laying.

My fingers brushed against something small and hard. I momentarily forgot how to breathe. Fastening my gaze on Jarrod's face, I slowly pushed him until I could slip my hand into his pocket.

The hard thing was cool and thin, fitting easily in my palm. I pulled it out and almost broke down at seeing it was a key. I couldn't believe it.

Pulling away from Jarrod's body, I navigated around the syringe pieces and hobbled to the front door. My hands shook as I reached up to put the key into the padlock.