𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒

𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄

TW: TRIGGERING THEMES

𝗦he opened her eyes drearily as the feeling of her body being dragged across the ground alerted her.

How long did I pass out for?

Rayne moved her arms slowly, latching onto the hand that was wrapped around the collar of her shirt. She hardly made an effort to push it away; she had no more strength left.

The world seemed to go dark again, and she lost consciousness once more, but that was short – lived as a loud crash followed by sharp pain snapped her eyes open once more. The feeling of a warm, thick liquid trickled down the back of her neck as glass shards fell down the side of her body. She looked up and noticed Christian standing before her, holding her up with a gun pressed into her chest. Her head felt weak, woozy.

"I knew you were nothing more than a cheap whore," he growled, pushing the gun further into her ribcage. She yelped in pain as he pressed against the ribs that were injured.

"Th—that's not true," she forced out.

"The hell it isn't!" he sneered, "I should have left your ass in the rain that day."

"As if a controlling man like you would ever do that," she remarked, instantly regretting her words as he pushed the metal deeper into her chest.

"Shut the fuck up bitch."

"Why. Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Shivers continued running across her body as more blood from her head dripped down from her head to her back. He had smashed her so hard against the window it had shattered on her, "—because I said no?" she continued, wincing as he made eye contact, "It's not my fault yo – you're a cheating so – sociopath," she coughed, spitting blood on Christian's chin and neck accidentally in the process.

"You're disgusting!" he called out, wrapping his free hand around her throat and squeezing, "You deserve what is happening to you, not only because you said no – but also because you refuse to admit your own infidelity. You're in love with that fucking mafia heir and yet you still lie to my fucking face and tell me you're not. You think you're such a saint, but you're not. You're just like me."

Rayne smiled softly for herself. If she was going to die here, she was going to do it on her own merits – she was going to end it by getting everything out. She was going to end it with her own last words.

"He's the better man anyways," she grinned.

Christian let out a foul noise as he grabbed her neck and lifted her off the ground. He pressed her body to the half of the window that still remained; the sharp dug deep into her back, inflicting another wound. The cut off of oxygen made Rayne's eyes roll in the back of her head; she wasn't getting enough air, and the injuries present on her body made her that much weaker. She reached up and scratched at his hand, gasping, and choking under his clutch.

"The world will be happy to be rid of you," he chuckled.

Fight! Even when you feel like you can't move another muscle – even when you're trapped and your opponent has you beaten. You fight! You fight for your right to be here!

Matteo's words rang through her brain once more. With the lack of air coming in, adrenaline flowed through her body fueled through her sympathetic system and her built in fight or flight.

"—your father especially," Christian finished.

Something in her brain snapped at those words and her effort to fight increased dramatically. She lived with a monster her entire life. She was taken advantage of over and over again – as if she was going to let it happen again – let the cycle continue.  She would never let a man be the reason for her demise.

Thank you Mat.

Rayne flung her eyes open, "Go f – fu – fuck you ... rself..." he exclaimed before lifting her leg and kicking Christian hard in his small sack. He doubled over in pain, releasing her from his grip. She fell to the ground on all fours, cursing as the shards of glass dug into her palms and knees. Her bad foot hung in the air, off the ground in an effort to keep the pain she felt to a minimum.

She began to crawl towards the door, coughing and gasping for air, when the sound of a gun cocking stopped her. She turned her head and found herself staring down the barrel of the silver pistol.

"Don't move," he commanded, "Don't you dare."

Fuck! I forgot about the gun.

Think ... think ... fucking think!

"You are mine Rayne."

"I'm not a fucking dog!" she cried out, finding her voice, "you don't own me!"

She looked at the position they were in, investigating her options. With her being on her hands and knees and Christian half – facing her, she had the perfect angle to land a blow to his face with her foot. The only problem was disarming him. If she made a singular move before doing so, that may as well be the last thing she ever does. She snuck a quick look down at the palm that held the gun; his wrist was shaking – it was most likely due to the pain he was feeling himself.

Distract him!

"You will always be mine Rayne. If I can't have you, no one can."

"You will never have me again you mother – fucker!" she screamed.

"You're not leaving here alive!" he responded, "The only way you're leaving is in a fucking body bag!"

"Like hell I am!" she shrieked, using the heel of her bad foot to kick the gun from his hands.

She bit down hard on her lip, trying to deal with the pain that screamed in her ankle as the gun flew from Christian's hand, above her, before clattering on the ground in front of her. Not caring about the pain now, she scrambled to her feet, rushing towards the firearm.

"Oh fuck no!" he yelled behind her, grabbing onto her ankle, and yanking her backwards.

Rayne face – planted inches behind the gun.

Shit!

"You touch that gun and I swear to god I'll fucking kill you!" he tightened his grip. 

She yelled out in anger before spinning her body fast, twisting his arm in the process, "A whole lot of confidence for the one without it!" she retorted, slamming her good foot into the bridge of his nose, knocking him over.

Rayne wasted no time. She turned back around and crawled to where the gun laid; blood dripped out of her nose, and her subconscious was telling her it was time to sleep, but she knew there was still more fight left to go.

No matter what it takes ...

I will win ...