Vision

Chapter Twenty Three

Edited

My eyes jolt open to a semi dark room. Colton lays beside me with his back to me. Carefully, I remove the blanket and scramble to get my clothes on. Tiptoeing over to the dresser that I saw Colton at earlier, I search for that dreaded small wooden box. It's time for him to be drugged for once.

It's a struggle to open the sterile syringe without making a peep. I'm no professional, but I manage to inject the tip into one of the bottles, pulling back the end of the needle, I suck up a decent amount of the liquid. It's only then that I look at the label trying to figure out what the clear liquid actually is. I stare at it in disbelief. Morphine. He's been drugging me with morphine. I don't bother to cover my tracks. As soon as he feels the effects he'll know. He might know the second he feels the pinprick.

Making my way towards Colton as swiftly as my body allows, I hold the needle with ease. I stop at the side of the bed a little freaked out in stabbing someone, but then my wandering eyes catch a glimpse of his nightstand. The top drawer is cracked open, a small gleam reflects off something metal.

I dig my hand inside and wrap my fingers around the handle of my small knife and hold it between my clenched teeth before pulling the blanket back to expose Colton's bicep. It's him or me. Without breathing I stick him. The needle puncturing the skin is the worst, but after that it glides in like butter.

I see him twitch slightly and by time he slaps at his arm I have the needle out. A small dot of blood is the only evidence. He doesn't open his eyes, not yet at least. Now it's time to get the hell out of here. Tossing the needle and dropping the knife from my mouth, I run straight to Peter, but that little shuffle is enough to get Colton to start waking up. The moan that sounds from Colton's mouth has me falling over myself.

When I nearly collapse through the doorway of the bedroom, Peter perks up. He's hunched over on the floor, still tied to the water heater. Colton and his damn boy scout knots.

With the sound of sheets behind me, I don't have time to do anything other than drop to the ground and slide the knife across the wooden floor towards Peter praying that he catches it.

I stand up seconds before Colton is at my back, "You've been a bad girl, Bianca. How much was in the needle?" His words are a little more slower, more pronounced. Is he fighting the pull?

"I don't know. A little, a lot. I'm not a doctor, so I don't know what a proper measurement would be. Heaven forbid I accidentally kill you."

My attitude doesn't please him. And for being drugged up, he's quite fast on his feet. Before I can even take a step, he's on me, left arm wrapped tightly around me from behind. But the right arm however hovers just to the side of my head pushing a round cold metal barrel of a gun against my temple.

I can hear Peter scream my name and fight against the bindings around his wrists. Did he get the knife?

"Trying to leave me for him? You came here with the option of death and I think I agree with that. Who's it going to be Bianca?" He points the gun at Peter and back at me weighing the option, but resulting to leaving the gun at my temple. "You see, if he dies, you'll be the heartbroken one. You might not forgive me, but..." he shrugs his shoulders. What? He can make it up to me? "But if you die, him and I are in the same position...maybe."

He leans forward, burying his face in my hair as he whispers in my ear. It's barely auditable for me, I highly doubt that Peter is able to hear what's being said. I flinch at the touch of his lips on my neck, but the words make my mind spin. "Peter over there hasn't been the most honest with you. I wanted you to see some pictures, but since you rushed to ending, I'll just tell you. Peter has been fucking a chihuahua." He swings his head back and hackles.