Page 15 of Big Easy

"Shut up!" Peter raises his hand, then lands a substantial blow to the left side of my face, causing an explosion of pain.

The punch does nothing to stop me from trying to break free, though.

My adrenalin has me kicking into high gear.

Using all the strength I can muster, I bring the palm of my hand upward toward Peter's face and jab him as hard as I can in the nose.

The moment my palm makes contact, there is a sickening crunch, followed by blood gushing down his face.

Roaring out in pain, Peter falls back to the floor, clutching his hand over his face.

Using this opportunity, I crawl on my hands and knees away from him and toward my phone.

When I feel a vise-like grip take hold of my ankle, I use my other foot to kick Peter in the shoulder, causing him to release me once again.

Instead of going for my phone, I grab the lamp off the table beside the sofa, bringing it crashing across his back.

"Fuck," he spits, blood spittle flying from his mouth.

Turning, I make it two steps before I am propelled backward by the hair on my head, and I go stumbling into the stool at the kitchen island. I cry out in pain when my ankle twists in an awkward position, then fall to my knees.

"It didn't have to be this way." Peter stands over me, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Looking up at the madman in front of me, I catch sight of something in his hand…

a gun. And just as I go to open my mouth and scream, he brings the butt of the weapon down across my temple, causing the world around me to go black.

I wake feeling confused and sporting the worst headache I have ever experienced. It takes me a moment for my senses to come rushing back to me, and to realize that I am not waking up from a nightmare. That Peter really did break into my apartment and attack me.

Bracing my palm against the floor, I slowly sit up and wince at the pain in my head.

Blinking a few times, I try to clear my brain and take in my surroundings.

Looking around the room, the first thing I notice is it looks like mine and Maci's living room, only it's empty.

There is no furniture. The only thing here is a sleeping bag, and the floor is littered with empty takeout cartons and soda cans.

In fact, the more I look around, the more I realize this place is exactly like my apartment.

Same layout, same carpet, even the kitchen is the same.

The sound of water running snaps me out of my daze.

It only takes me a moment to realize this is my chance to escape.

Ignoring the piercing pain radiating from my ankle up to my leg, I climb to my feet and limp as fast as I can toward the front door and begin fumbling with the locks.

What the hell is this? It's locked on the inside! I can't get out this way.

Out of nowhere, I am lifted off my feet as Peter bear hugs me from behind. "Let me go!" I start kicking and thrashing.

"Stop fighting me," Peter hisses. And when I feel the cold barrel of a gun against my temple, I do as he says.

"Sit," he orders once I'm back on my feet.

"Peter, please. This has gone too far. Let me go, and we can forget it ever happened."

"No. You're staying with me. I just need a little time to figure out my next move.

And when I do, I'm taking you with me. This is how it's supposed to be.

I saw you first. If I let you go, you'll go back to that biker trash.

But I saw you first. We just need some time for you to understand that we are meant to be together.

I even moved into this apartment, so I could be closer to you. "

"Peter, that's…" I go to speak only to have him cut me off in a rage as he points the gun at me.

"Shut up!" Peter gets a wild look in his eyes. "Don't you fucking say it! I'm not crazy. I am sick and tired of hearing people tell me that. Peter, you're crazy. Peter, you need help."

"Please." I hold up my hands. "I'm sorry, okay. I won't repeat it. Just put the gun down," I plead.

Peter lowers his gun and then rushes me. I stumble backward, my back hitting the wall. "I don't want to hurt you, Sutton, but I'll be forced to do so if you keep trying to get away from me."

I try not to gag at the stench of his hot, rancid breath as he spits his crazy talk in my face. The man is clearly unhinged, and at this point, I have no choice but to play along. "You… You're right, Peter. I'm sorry. I'll be good."

A smile that sends shivers down my spine spreads across his face. "You'll see things my way soon enough, Sutton. Just as soon as I get you away from this place."

I fight back the bile rising in my throat. "I'll go with you, Peter, but first, I need to know where Maci is."

Peter narrows his beady eyes. "Your roommate interrupted our reunion, so she's been dealt with."

My hand flies to my mouth. "Oh, my God."

"Don't worry," Peter says. "I didn't kill her. But if you try anything once we leave here, your friend is dead. You understand?"

I close my eyes and try to control my rapid heartbeat. When I don't respond, Peter grips my arm in a vise-like hold. "Answer me, Sutton. Tell me you understand. I'll shoot your friend right between the eyes if you don't do exactly what I say."

"I understand," I croak. "I won't try anything. Please, just don't hurt Maci."

Peter runs his gaze over my face, testing the sincerity of my words.

"Good. Now we don't have much time. Let's go.

" He tugs me toward the door. "You're going to walk out of this apartment with me like nothing is wrong.

One peep out of your mouth or you try to run, and I'm going to do exactly what I promised. "

I nod, keeping my mouth shut.

When Peter opens the apartment door, he puts his arm around my waist. His touch makes me want to crawl out of my own skin, but I keep my composure as he leads me down the stairs and to his car, which is parked several spots down behind a large moving truck.

My eyes dart across the parking lot toward a guy climbing out of his work truck.

The man briefly makes eye contact with me.

On the inside, I'm screaming at him for help.

My stomach sinks as I watch him climb into his vehicle and drive away.

"Turn around," Peter hisses as we come to a stop at the passenger door. I do as I'm told and watch as he takes a zip tie from his front pocket.

My hands shake uncontrollably as he ties them behind my back while using his body to shield me from any possible onlookers. Once my wrists are bound, he shoves me into the passenger seat.

"Look at you being such a good girl." Peter brushes his knuckles across my cheek, making me want to vomit.

My temper flares, and I jerk from his touch. "You won't get away with this," I seethe. "Jaxson will find me, and when he does, you are dead."

Peter's face turns red, and his body vibrates with rage as he bares his teeth. "Shut up! That biker trash isn't going to do shit." In a flash, Peter's arm rears back, and he brings the butt of his gun down across my temple, sending me into a pool of darkness.