Holden Steele's Ruin [Completed]

Chapter 28

My throat was dry, too dry.

Stinging pain ripped at my throat as I struggled to swallow, my tongue darting out to dampen my cracked lips. A heavy fog had settled on me, completely dislodging all my coherent thoughts as I struggled to piece my scattered thoughts together.

I immediately jolted awake at the dreadful image of my bleeding mother, the memory from the accident twisting my gut. The sudden movement had me groaning as an unbearable pain pierced through my pounding head. My muscles screamed in agony with even the slightest movement while my lungs burnt in protest.

My heavy eyelids blinked slowly as I tried to clear my vision, bland brick walls meeting my line of sight. A dull yellow glow from the overhead bulb bathed the room as my sluggish brain took in my surrounding. The space was otherwise empty except for the washing machine pushed up against the wall and the stiff bed I was currently lying on.

Even in my disoriented state warning bell rang in my ears, I remembered something wet being placed over my face. The acid smell had suffocated my lungs, I had been drugged. My eyes frantically searched for an exit, a rusty stair case disappearing behind a wall proving to be my only escape.

I tried dragging my battered body off the bed, wincing when the fabric of my tank top brushed against my burning abdomen. I clamped my teeth on my bottom lip as I slowly lifted the hem of my top, examining the bruised skin under it. Pinching the fabric away from my skin, I continued with my climb down the bed with much difficulty.

My breath hitched at the clicking of a lock, heavy footsteps causing the old wooden steps to creak loudly in protest. My blood ran cold as my chest squeezed in fear, I watched frozen as polished leather boots descended the stairs one at a time.

I wasn't even aware I was holding my breath, too terrified to make even the slightest movement. My heart was racing uncontrollably as the shadowy figure moved closer to the light. He looked different, a complete contrast from the calm put together guy I had regretfully dated.

"X- Xander?" I whimpered while digging my back into the mattress.

If he didn't frequent my nightmares as much as he did I might have not recognised him completely. He looked unhealthily thin, the beer stained shirt hanging off of him exposing his protruding collarbone. His check bones stuck out of his face unattractively, an overgrown beard covering most of his checks as his once cropped hair brushed the tip of his shoulders.

A shudder ran through my spine as his vacant eyes met mine. The sunken brown orbs swam in a sea of translucent red, an uncharacteristic hollowness in them. I was more then terrified, the Xander from two years ago at least looked human. This Xander looked dead inside, like he wouldn't hesitate to kill me.

"You've been out of it for awhile" his said casually like he didn't drug me and proceed to lock me up in his basement.

A smile stretched on his lips as he rested his palm against my cheek, caressing it lovingly. My skin crawled in disgust at the contact as I struggled not to jerk away from him, not wanting to set him off. I screwed my eyes shut as yet another whimper rose to my mouth.

"Why are you crying?! I don't like it when you cry!" He said while roughly gripping my chin, wiping the lone tear that had slid past my eyes. I was so confused at the drastic change of his motives with me. Before, he wanted me dead. He wanted to make me pay and now he was loving, well as loving his twisted brain could get.

Xander studied me for a moment, dropping his arm to his side before pacing the room. He clenched and unclenched his fists as his face twisted in displeasure, my obvious rejection not seating well with him.