Leading Her from the Darkness

CHAPTER 27 - END OF PART 1

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They bound his arms and legs to a chair with duct tape. I watch while he yanks against the binds, mercilessly struggling to free himself, with no such luck. He finally raises his head, and his broken gaze falls on me. His swollen black eyes fill with shock and realization. It's noticeably apparent that he definitely remembers who I am and why he's here.

The room spins like a fucking merry-go-round and my eyes fog over. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, drowning out Dawson's voice as he tries to get my attention. I can see that he's talking, but it feels as though all the air has been stolen from my lungs, leaving them aching, begging for some relief.

I can't breathe. I can't focus. I can't hear. All I have is pure, body numbing terror. My hand drops from my mouth to grip onto the railing beside me, steadying my weakening legs so that I don't fall while also trying to keep myself from passing the fuck out.

I eventually catch my breath and my bearings, just enough so I can focus on what's going on in front of me. But before I can even think about what to say or do, my fight-or-flight kicks in and my legs have decided all on their own for me. Without thinking, I race back up the stairs as fast as my body will allow, my muscles burning like pure hellfire, and I never once look back.

I hear footsteps running after me, but I don't dare stop, pushing myself harder... farther. Just as the exit sign comes into view, I am being pushed to the ground by a solid force. Somehow though, my body shifts mid-fall, and I land on top of someone with a hard thud. I hear a pained groan from beneath me and I intuitively know who it belongs to.

I throw myself off of him and without standing; I shuffle backwards until my body smacks against the check-in counter. Dawson rolls off of his back, and stays crouched down, perching himself up on the balls of his feet. He looks up at me with wary eyes and holds up a hand, signifying that he isn't going to hurt me. I'm sure the petrified look on my face is the only thing that stops him from approaching me.

"What are you doing here, Austyn?" he asks. The boldness of this man is infuriating.

Once I find my voice, I can't restrain myself from screaming, ignoring his question.

"What the fuck is going on, Dawson? Who the hell are you?" My panicked questions come out so fast that I'm not entirely sure he can even understand me.

He tries inching closer to me, but I instinctively flinch back, pressing myself firmly against the counter once again, in an impossible attempt to create more distance, to no avail. My heart is smashing so hard against my ribs that it feels like they're re-breaking from the sheer force.

A whimper falls from my lips, realizing that I have no way of escaping because, as my luck would have it, the only exit I know of is located directly behind Dawson.

My reaction causes him to back away. He sits down across from me instead, crossing his legs. His eyes are glued to me, concern plastered all over his face. I feel my muscles slightly release the building tension and I place one of my hands on my chest, over my heart, willing it to slow down so I don't go into a full-blown panic attack. I take a few deep breaths but at this point, my lungs feel too far gone.

"Austyn, please just let me explain everything to you. It's not what it looks like," he reproaches. I can't help but scoff at the stupidity of his statement.

"Really? Really? That's the line you're going to use right now! Because it looks like you have my attacker taped to a fucking chair, covered in an obscene amount of his blood in your basement!" I motion my hand towards the ominous, lock-covered steel door. I'm unable to control the growing volume of my voice. "What the fuck is there to explain? Because it seems pretty self-explanatory to me!"