Insatiable (UNDERGOING REWRITES)

**Chapter 38 : Julian Mason**

TW : DEATH, MURDER, ABUSE, BLOOD. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

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"—all your good for, huh? Never even pay attention, just good as the cumdump you are."

Something inside me snapped, and the second Phineas loosened his hold on my neck, I pounced.

What am I going to do?

I am going to fight and survive this so I can live.

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There's so much blood, dude. You gotta get over here."

I was already standing, hands shaking as I gripped my phone tighter. I could barely register Ezra speaking rapidly into his phone on the other side of the room before turning to look at me, eyes wide.

"Who, Kyle? Who did you find?"

There were more voices, a broken sob followed by rasping breathing, before Kyle said, "Julian. We found Julian."

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*two hours earlier*

I couldn't breathe.

Fight, Julian. Fight. Fight back.

I couldn't breathe. No air was getting to my lungs. My chest was caving. It hurts.

Get up, Julian. Push against him. Fight!

The only sounds besides the ringing in my ears was the grunt and growls Phineas was letting out. It was that, and his breath on my face, his hands on my body, and the blackness creeping at the edges of my vision.

There was a shift in weight, and Phineas pulled halfway away from me. His hold on my neck loosened, his weight shifting backwards onto my thighs.

But it was all enough.

It was just enough to twist my legs up and around Phineas' torso, leaning up while simultaneously pushing him back, feet digging into his chest and neck.

It was just enough to get Phineas off me so I could scramble away from him. I tumbled off the brick they called a bed and fell to the floor.

We were in the cabin, an enclosed space, most likely locked from the outside. But there was no other hint to any of Phineas' bodyguards. Which, at the present moment, was good for me.

Phineas cursed from behind me as I pushed and shoved my way to my feet. I didn't stop to think, because if I did, I wouldn't be able to do what needed to get done. So I practically leaped the few feet to the kitchen counter, throwing drawers open at random until I found utensils, or rather a drawer full of sharp objects.