Page 4 of We Are Yours

Mr. Bates clumsily hunted after me as if I were nothing more than his prey. With each of his fumbling steps, I began to worry he was going to tumble onto me. Thankfully, my panic simply fueled me, and I was able to beat him to the front door.

However, as soon as I grabbed the metal knob, I barely got it open an inch before he was able to catch up to me. In one hasty shove, he easily shut the door from behind me while my trembling hand remained on the handle.

After he slammed it closed, I could feel the weight of his demanding and intimidating presence. It burned a hole in my back, and he was barely touching me.

In one swift movement, he roughly whirled me back around to face him, and for a brief second, our eyes locked.

The intensity in his stare was palpable before he warned, “There isn’t a chance in hell you’re getting away from me again…”

Something in his chilling tone made my blood run cold, sending a shiver down my spine. The moment was crystal clear when his gritty hands lunged for my neck, and I ducked out of the way, just in time. In the blink of my bloody eye, my feet were already hauling ass on the old, dingy floor, racing toward the back door. It was the only other exit.

The blood from my eyebrow wouldn’t let up, making it hard to see. Using the sleeve of my jean jacket, I tried wiping it away.

It must have slowed me down because Mrs. Bates was able to block my path, jumping out in front of me. “Not so fast,” she exclaimed, making me almost crash into her, but at the last second, I veered to the right and darted toward the basement.

There was nowhere else to run. This was my last chance to get out. Luckily, my backpack was near the basement door, and I was able to snatch it up off the floor and toss it over my shoulder. All I had were the clothes I was wearing and what I stored in my black bag.

“You little shit!” Mr. Bates spewed, bringing my attention back to him. “Get back here!”

He sounded out of breath, and I didn’t turn around. I didn’t listen, not for a single second.

Once I was close enough to the basement door, I flung it open, and it collided against the wall behind it, loudly crashing plaster onto the floor. My legs flew down those hard concrete stairs, feeling like my combat boots barely skimmed the surface. I was floating above the steps while the ground was sinking beneath me.

Nine steps left.

Five steps.

Two steps.

* * *

One…

Chapter

Two

Isla

When I finally arrived at the bottom of the stairs, I nearly tasted freedom. All I had to do was climb out of the rectangular window at the bottom corner to my left. It was maybe fifteen, twenty feet in front of me, and it led to the side of the house. The window was narrow, but I’d make myself fit. It was the only hope I had left.

It wasn’t until my world as I knew it was shattered through a choked whisper of, “Oh fuck…” that I realized my life had proven to be one big cruel masterpiece.

Smeared with bright, vibrant colors of intricate beauty yet laced with stark black-and-white shadows of darkness.

However, it wasn’t his words that stopped me dead in my tracks. It was the raw, unsettling pitch in his voice that rendered me frozen where I stood. In what felt like slow motion, I slowly spun back around and witnessed a disturbing scene that would forever haunt me. A silent scream jammed in my throat as my hand clamped over my mouth and my breathing hitched in a loud gasp.

Then it was the piercing, sudden stillness of the basement with a sickening thump that followed… and another and another and another.

Thump…

Thump…

Thump…

THWACK!

Mr. Bates's body cartwheeled down the stairs in a crippling fall. There was no mistaking the sounds of his bones breaking. Each one snapping worse than the one prior. Each one louder, harder, more tormenting.