novelxo Chapter Billionaire My Husband 88
CHAPTER 88
JESS
The bathroom was tiny-barely enough space to move around, let alone think
clearly. My heart pounded as I dragged the chair into the bathroom, the legs scraping against the tile floor. I pushed it beneath the door handle, wedging it against the bathtub. There wasn't a lot of room, but that worked in my favor. With the chair now jammed between the open easily.
But the door was flimsy, cheap wood that could easily be broken down if they really wanted to.
I knew I didn't have much time. My wrists were still bound together, the coarse rope digging into my skin, but I noticed the railing by the bathtub-a loose screw sticking out just enough. It might be able to cut through the rope if I could angle it right. I twisted my wrists against the
screw, feeling it scrape against the rope and, o my horror, my skin. I couldn't see behind my back, but I bit through the pain, focusing on the rope. It was slow, agonizing work, and my hands shook, but I had to keep going. I couldn't stop. I wouldn't let them get to me. Just as I started to make some progress, I heard the door to the room burst open, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. My heart leaped into my throat as the men started cursing, their voices muffled by the bathroom door.
"Where the fuck did she go?" one of them snarled, followed by
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the sound of something being thrown against the wall.
"Jess!" Bryan's deceptively sweet voice cut through the sound of my heart pounding in my ears, making my stomach churn. "Jess, it's Bryan. I'm here to help you. You can trust me! Come on out; you're safe now!" Bryan called from the other side of the bathroom door, but it did little to calm me.
I froze for a moment, my breath hitching. He sounded so sincere, like the charming guy who could talk his way out of anything until his mask faded and the monster beneath was looking at me.
My grip on the rope tightened as forced myself to keep working on the screw, grinding it against the fibers, trying to stay calm as Bryan kept talking. I could feel the blood run down my fingers, but I didn't care. There was a small window above the bathtub. Small enough for "I'm not gonna hurt you, Jess," he continued, his tone softening even more. "I just want to explain everything. Please open the door, and let's talk." His voice lacked charm and warmth this time; I could hear the frustration, and then he banged on the door and yanked the door handle.
Suddenly, more fists started banging on the door, hard enough to rattle the chair I'd wedged beneath the handle. My heart pounded in my ears as they continued to bang and curse, the door creaking under the pressure. It wouldn't hold for long. "Jess, open the door!" Bryan shouted, the sweetness in his voice gone, replaced by venom. "You're only making this harder on yourself. I was going to go slow and sweet, but now, now, you deserve to be punished!"
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I gritted my teeth, pressing my wrists harder against the screw, feeling the rope start to give way fraying little by little. The banging grew louder, more desperate, and I knew I didn't have much time left. The door was shaking violently now, the chair rattling with each hit. "Come on, Jess!" Bryan's voice was right on the other side of the door now, furious and impatient. "Open this fucking door!"
My hands were almost free, just a little more, and I'd be able to slip out of the ropes. The door groaned under the force, splinters starting to crack around the edges. My pulse was racing, every
nerve on edge as I worked faster, praying the door would hold just long enough.
Finally, the last bit of rope gave way, and I yanked my wrists free, gasping with relief. But I knew I wasn't out of danger yet. I needed to get to the window, but my hands were slippery from the blood, and I had no foothold to get myself through. "Shit," I seethed through the pain, tears streaming down my cheeks and blurring my vision.
"Come on, Jess. Come on!" I repeated to myself.
The door shuddered, the chair barely holding it in place. I had only seconds left before they broke through. I got one arm through, but now my dislocated shoulder was next, and that arm didn't want to follow instructions
I heard the door break, and then someone took hold of my hair and yanked me away from the window. The last thing I heard was a sickening crack... of my head hitting the bathtub?