Chapter 11: Escape Attempts
It's now 3 am and I'm stuck in Vincent's grip in his bed. His loud snores and his head is buried into my shoulder. I quietly manage to get outta his grip and I replace myself with a pillow so Vincent thinks he is still hugging me.
I tiptoed out of Vincent's bedroom, anxiety buzzing through my veins like electric currents on the fritz. Turning the corner, my heart plummeted into my stomach as I came face to face with Joey. He stood there grinning, his dark eyes glinting madly under the ornate chandelier.
"Whatcha doin' up, Mommy?" Joey asked, the eerie smile never leaving his face. It was almost as if he'd been waiting for me.
"Just, um... the bathroom," I stammered out, trying to keep my voice from shaking. I could feel sweat beading at my hairline, heart drumming a frantic rhythm against my ribs. Surely, he had to buy that, right?
Joey's laughter burst through the silence of the hallway like shattering glass, making my skin crawl. He laughed and laughed, cackling almost deliriously, and the sound ricocheted off the walls. I shrank back, feeling smaller and more terrified by the second.
"You're a bad liar, Mommy," he giggled, the sound far too gleefully sinister for a child his age. "Mommy's going for a night walk, huh?"
My throat felt dry as the Sahara, a lump forming so big no lie could slip past it. Swallowing hard, I forced a tight-lipped smile that I'm sure reflected none of the reassurance I was aiming for. Suddenly, the weight of impending doom pressed onto my shoulders as Antonio's looming figure emerged from behind Joey. His muscular build was intimidating in the dim light - a silhouette that spelled out certain trouble.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Antonio's voice rumbled low, too calm yet gripping with an intensity that wrinkled my soul like old parchment.
I tried to manage some coherent words, "I-It's not what it looks like, I swear. Just needed some... fresh air." My voice cracked on the last part - even in my own ears, the excuse sounded feeble.
Antonio folded his arms, the tattoos on his biceps stretching with the movement, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "Fresh air, huh? I suppose you fancy a little stroll outside the mansion at this unholy hour?"
Sweat was betraying me, a traitorous stream running down the small of my back. My heartbeat thundered so loudly I feared it might give me away, but there was no going back now. "Yes, just... just a little claustrophobic, you know how it is."
Joey's snickering cut through the tension - high-pitched and brimming with mockery. "You think Daddy's gonna like this, Antonio?"
I watched in horror as Antonio pulled a two-way radio from his belt. "Boss, we got a situation with our guest," he said, a note of victory tainting his voice.
With panic rising like bile, I stuttered, "P-Please, no need to wake him. I won't try anything... stupid, I promise."
But before the words could even properly leave my mouth, footsteps echoed - rapidly growing louder. Vincent appeared at the end of the corridor, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that paralyzed. His shadow stretched long and ominous, reaching out as if to claim me from afar.
"Samantha," Vincent's voice slashed through the air, sharp as his beloved knives. "Where do you think you're going?"
"I" I faltered, unable to form another useless excuse.
Vincent crossed the distance in strides that could fell forests. He grabbed my arm, his grip vice-like, and swiveled me towards him. His face was inches from mine, his breath hot and heavy with anger.
