Twist Me (10 page)

All I need now is a good spot for my ambush.

Looking around, I notice a little nook near the kitchen entrance. If you’re coming in off the porch—like I think Beth will be—then you don’t really see anything in that nook. It’s not the best place to conceal oneself, but it’s better than attacking her openly. I go there and press myself flat against the wall, the vase standing on the floor next to me where I can easily grab it.

Taking a deep breath, I try to still the fine trembling in my hands. I’m not a violent person, yet here I am, about to smash this vase into Beth’s head. I don’t want to think about it, but I can’t help picturing her skull split open, blood and gore everywhere, like in some horror movie. The image makes me ill. I tell myself that it won’t be like that, that she’ll most likely end up with a nasty bruise or a mild concussion.

The wait seems interminable. It goes on and on, each second stretching like an hour. My heart is pounding and I’m sweating, even though the temperature in the house is much cooler than the heat outside.

Finally, after what feels like several hours, I hear Beth’s footsteps. Grabbing the vase, I carefully lift it over my head and hold my breath as Beth steps through the open door leading from the porch.

As she walks by me, I grip the vase tightly and bring it down on her head.

And somehow I miss. At the last moment, Beth must’ve heard me move because the vase hits her on the shoulder instead.

She cries out in pain, clutching her shoulder. “You fucking bitch!”

I gasp and try to lift the vase again, but it’s too late. She grabs for the vase, and it falls down, breaking into a dozen pieces between us.

I jump back, my right hand frantically scrambling for the knife.
Shit, shit, shit.
I manage to grab the handle and pull it out, but before I can do anything, she grabs my arm, moving as quickly as a snake. Her grip is like a steel band around my right wrist.

Her face is flushed and her eyes are glittering as she twists my arm painfully backward. “Drop the knife, Nora,” she orders harshly, her voice filled with fury.

Panicking, I try to hit her in the face with my other hand, but she catches that arm too. She clearly knows how to fight—and she’s also obviously stronger than me.

My right arm is screaming in pain, but I try to kick at her. I can’t lose this fight. This is my best chance at escape.

My feet make contact with her legs, but I’m not wearing shoes and I do more damage to my toes than to her shins.

“Drop the knife, Nora, or I will break your arm,” she hisses, and I know that she’s telling the truth. My shoulder feels like it’s about to pop out of its socket, and my vision darkens as waves of pain radiate down my arm.

I hold out for one more second, and then my fingers release the knife. It falls to the floor with a loud thunk.

Beth immediately lets me go and bends down to pick it up.

I back away, breathing harshly, tears of pain and frustration burning in my eyes. I don’t know what she’s going to do to me now, and I don’t want to find out.

So I run.

* * *

I am fast on my feet and in good shape. I can hear Beth chasing after me, calling my name, but I doubt she’s ever done track before.

I run out of the house and down to the beach. Rocks, twigs, and gravel dig into my feet, but I barely feel them.

I don’t know where I’m running, but I can’t let Beth catch me. I can’t be locked up in the room or worse.

“Nora!”

Fuck, she’s a good runner too. I put on a burst of speed, ignoring the pain in my feet.

“Nora, don’t be an idiot! There’s nowhere to go!”

I know that’s true, but I can’t be a passive victim any longer. I can’t sit meekly in that house, eat Beth’s food, and wait for Julian to return.

I can’t allow him to hurt me again and then make my body crave him.

My leg muscles are screaming, and my lungs are straining for air. I divorce myself from the discomfort, pretend I’m in a race with the finish line only a hundred yards away.

It feels like I’m running forever. When I glance back, I see that Beth is falling further and further behind.

My pace eases a little bit. I can’t sustain that speed much longer. Without thinking too much, I head for the rocky side of the island, where I can clamber up the rocks and disappear in the heavily wooded area above them.

It takes me another ten minutes to get there. By then, I can no longer see Beth behind me.

I slow down and climb up the rocks. Now that I’m out of immediate danger, I can feel the cuts and bruises on my bare feet.

It’s a slow and torturous climb. My legs are quivering from unaccustomed exertion, and I can feel a post-adrenaline slump coming on. Nevertheless, I manage to get myself up the rocky hill and into the woods.

Tropical vegetation, lush and thick, is all around me, hiding me from view. I go deeper into the brush, seeking a good spot to collapse in exhaustion. It wouldn’t be easy to find me here. From what I remember during my earlier exploration, this forest covers a large portion of this side of the island.

I should be safe here for now.

As the darkness begins to fall, I take shelter under a large tree, where the underbrush is particularly impenetrable. I clear a little patch of ground for myself, making sure I’m not near any ant hills or anything else that could bite me. Then I lie down, ignoring the throbbing pain in my lacerated feet.

Not for the first time in my life, I’m grateful to my dad for taking me camping when I was a child. Thanks to his tutelage, I’m comfortable with nature in all its glory. Bugs, snakes, lizards—none of these bother me. I know I should be careful around certain species, but I don’t fear them as a whole.

I’m far more scared of the snakes who brought me to this island.

Now that I’m away from Beth, I can think a little more clearly.

That lean, toned body of hers is clearly not from doing light cardio and yoga in the gym. She’s strong—probably as strong as some men—and definitely much stronger than me.

She also seems to have had some kind of special training. Martial arts, maybe? I clearly made a mistake trying to take her prisoner. I should’ve slipped that knife into her back when she wasn’t looking.

It’s not too late, though. I can still sneak back into the house and surprise her there. I need access to that internet, and I need it now, before Julian returns.

I don’t know what he’ll do to me for attacking Beth
—
and I certainly don’t want to find out.

Chapter 10

A strange sensation wakes me up the next morning. It feels almost like—

“Oh shit!”

I jump up, trying to shake off the long-legged spider that’s leisurely strolling up my arm.

The spider flies off, and I frantically brush at my face, hair, and body, trying to get rid of any other potential creepy-crawlies.

Okay, so I’m not exactly afraid of spiders, but I really, really don’t like them on me.

This is definitely not the most pleasant way to wake up.

My heart rate gradually returns to normal, and I take stock of my situation. I’m thirsty, and my entire body aches from sleeping on the hard ground. I also feel grimy, and my feet hurt. Lifting up one leg, I peer at the sole of the foot. I’m pretty sure there’s dried blood on there.

My stomach is rumbling with hunger. I didn’t have dinner last night, and I’m absolutely starving.

On the plus side, Beth hasn’t found me yet.

I’m not really sure what I’m going to do next. Perhaps make my way back to the house and try to ambush Beth there again?

I think about it and decide it’s probably the best course of action at this point. Sooner or later, Beth or Julian will find me. The island is not that big, and I would not be able to hide from them for long. And I can’t risk procrastinating, in case Julian returns sooner than expected. Two against one are terrible odds.

I’m also getting hungrier by the minute, and I tend to get light-headed if I don’t eat regularly. I could probably find fresh water to drink, but food is more iffy. I don’t know where Beth gets those mangos from. If I try to hide for another couple of days, I might be too weak to attack anyone, much less a woman who could be a freaking warrior princess.

Besides, she might not be expecting me quite yet, and I could really use an element of surprise.

So I take a deep breath and start walking—or rather, limping—back toward the house. I know this might not end well for me, but I have no choice. I either fight now, or I will forever be a victim.

It takes me about two hours to get back. I end up having to stop and take breaks when I can no longer tolerate the agony in my feet.

It’s kind of ironic that I escaped because I’m afraid of pain, and I ended up hurting myself so badly in the process. Julian would probably love to see me like this.
That perverted bastard.

Finally, I reach the house and crouch behind some large bushes near the front door. I don’t know if it’s locked or not, but I don’t think I can just stroll in through the main entrance. For all I know, Beth is right there in the living room.

No, I need to be more strategic about it.

After a few minutes, I carefully make my way to the back of the house, toward the large screened porch where I had attacked Beth yesterday.

To my relief, no one is there.

Taking care not to make a sound, I open the screen door and slip inside. In my hand I’m holding a large rock. I would much rather have a knife or a gun, but a rock will have to do for now.

Crab-walking to one of the windows, I glance inside and am gratified to find the living room empty.

Straightening, I walk up to the glass door that leads to the living room, quietly slide it open, and step inside.

The house is completely silent. There’s no one cooking in the kitchen or setting the table.

The digital clock in the living room reads 7:12. I’m hoping that Beth is still asleep.

Still clutching the rock, I sneak into the kitchen and find another knife. Holding both, I carefully head upstairs.

Beth’s bedroom is the first one on the left. I know because she showed it to me during the house tour.

Holding my breath, I quietly push open the door . . . and freeze.

Sitting there on the bed is the person I fear most.

Julian.

He’s back early.

* * *

“Hello, Nora.”

His voice is deceptively soft, his perfect face expressionless. Yet I can feel the rage burning quietly underneath.

For a second, I just stare at him, paralyzed by terror. I can’t hear anything but the roaring of my own heartbeat in my ears. And then I start to back away, still keeping my eyes trained on his face. My hands are raised defensively in front of me, rock and knife clutched tightly in each.

At that moment, steely hands grip my arms from behind, painfully squeezing my wrists. I scream, struggling, but Beth is too strong. The knife twists backward in my hand, nearly reaching my shoulder.

In a flash, Julian is on me, and both the knife and the rock are wrenched out of my hands. Beth releases me and Julian grabs me, holding me tightly as I scream and writhe hysterically in his arms.

The harder I fight, the tighter his arms become around me, until I go limp, almost fainting from lack of air.

Then he picks me up and carries me out of Beth’s room.

To my surprise, he brings me downstairs and stops in front of the door that leads to his office. A tiny panel opens on the side, and I can see a red light moving over Julian’s face, like a laser at a supermarket checkout.

Then the door slides open.

I stifle a gasp of surprise. His office door opens via a retina scan—something I’ve only seen before in spy movies.

As he carries me inside, I try to struggle again, but it’s futile. His arms are completely immovable, holding me securely in his grip.

I’m once again helpless in his embrace.

Tears of bitter frustration slide down my face. I hate being so weak, so easily handled. He’s not even winded from our struggle.

I’m not sure what I’m expecting him to do. Perhaps beat me, or brutally take me.

But he simply places me on my feet when we’re inside his office.

As soon as he releases me, I take a few steps back, needing to put at least some distance between us.

He smiles at me, and there’s something disturbing in the beauty of that smile. “Relax, my pet. I won’t hurt you. Not now, at least.”

And as I watch, he walks over to a large desk and slides open the drawer, taking out a remote control. Then he points it at a wall behind me.

I turn around warily and stare at two large flat-panel TV screens. They look very high-tech, not at all like the ones I’m used to seeing at home.