𝐃𝐞𝐛𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝟏𝟖+

Prologue

POPPY ELLISON

✥

My hands shake uncontrollably as I raise the sharp knife to the back of my neck. It's now or never.

I press the cool metal to my skin and whimper at the sensation, my long red hair swept to one side. I can barely look at myself in the mirror as I hunch over the bathroom sink.

That's when I clamp my jaw together and shake my head. I calm down my breathing and I ignore the thumping in my chest, my heart almost having a seizure.

Just fucking do it! I scream to myself in my head. Just fucking do it!

The blade presses into my skin and I suck in a shudder. I screw my eyes shut as I roll the metal over my skin, pursing my lips as I hum at the pain. Don't scream. Don't scream. Don't scream. If I draw attention to myself, I'll never make it out of here today.

Rexx might not be here but his workers are. I don't want them getting suspicious.

Warm blood trickles down the curve of my neck, I can see it out of the corner of my eye in the reflection but I still refuse to look. It makes my stomach clench at the feeling of it staining my skin, the back of my neck throbs as I place down the knife.

I feel my lips tremble as I raise my hand and push my index finger inside the wound, groaning silently at the waves of discomfort that begin to swarm me. Bile rises in my throat as I dig around in my flesh, trying to find the tiny microchip.

My eyes tighten even more as I grit my teeth and grunt, the feeling of my fingers pressing into my sensitive and sore flesh. That's when more blood pours down my back, over my shoulders, soaking my t-shirt.

As I continue to search for the chip, my fingernail brushes something hard and I press in deeper to grab it. I almost scream at the pain that rocks through me, having moved the skin and allowed it to rip.

With the chip pinched between my finger nails I pull it out and stare at it, no bigger than a grain of rice. My entire body shakes as I stare at it, tears now gathering in my eyes. I plant it in my bedroom, underneath my pillow.

I literally have minutes before I need to go. Before Rexx gets home.

When I dart to the bathroom, I scrub my body of the blood as best as I can and press a cotton shirt to the back of my neck to stop myself from bleeding everywhere. The sight of blood will draw the attention I do not need.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

My heart races in my chest like a winning horse. I grab my bag and coat, covering myself up and I head out of the front door. I try my hardest not to let any fear show on my face, even my legs as they begin to tremble.

As soon as I make it out of the house and down the road, I run.

I fucking sprint as fast as I possibly can.

Blood roars in my mouth, in my chest, in my ears.

My breathing becomes erratic but I can't stop, not when I'm so close to freedom.

I make it to the train station. I've been planning this getaway for weeks.

Jump on a train to the furthest destination and when I get there, I'll work out the rest. I know he'll keep coming after me but if I move away as far as I can, hopefully he'll give up.

Unlikely after he waited two years for my witness protection to end.

But I have to give it a shot. This isn't living. I'm practically his slave and I refuse to do it for the next eight years. It'll destroy every ounce of me before I make it out, I'll be a shell of a person with an empty soul.