Chapter 45


    I felt the gnawing ache in my stomach as I sat in the dimly lit shed, weak from hunger. I returned to


    cutting at the rope, but my movements were less methodical and more robotic as I grew tired.


    It looked like midday, but I wasn’t sure if that was a whole day that had passed by, or perhaps more


    than that. Either way, Bruce hadn’t been back and I felt oddly lessfortable with that knowledge.


    I didn’t know how secluded we were, so there was a possibility that just anybody could walk in with


    even worse intentions. without the threat of prying eyes.


    My arms were growing sore from cutting, but I was prepared to push through it before the doors of


    the shed suddenly slid open. I jerked away from the shovel and maneuvered the chair so that I was


    facing Bruce as he walked in.


    Of course, he wasn’t dumb enough to ignore the fact that I’d traveled across the room. He narrowed


    his eyes as he walked forward, arge bag dangling in his hands.


    “Up to no good?” He dropped the bag at my feet and hovered over me, observing my ropes. He


    kissed his teeth and grumbled, “As I thought.”


    I was prepared to give him a lousy


    bag caught my attention. I stretched my neck, attempting to get a nce at whatever was inside.


    Noticing my curiosity, Bruceughed and picked it back up.


    attention. I stretch cuse, but the savory aroma drifting from the


    “You must be hungry,” he said, his voice oozing with satisfaction. He kneeled down beside me and


    started pulling out the contents of the bag, which were just a box. and some utensils.


    When he popped open the box, my mouth watered at the sight of waffles and eggs with a side of


    sausage links. He took the bundle of utensils and began sawing into the sausage.


    “Bruce, please,” I said hoarsely, my throat crying for water.


    He simply shrugged and stove a slice into his mouth, chewing painfully slow. It seemed that a whole


    hour passed as he went through the breakfast, sampling each. side with intrigue, as if acquiring a


    new taste. All the while, my stomach roared and grumbled, calling for its own fill despite the cheap


    looking food.


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    Eventually, he finished it off with a loud burp that he blew in my direction. Then, with a smile, he


    tossed the utensils into the box and shoved it all to the side.


    “Delicious!” he cheered, beaming at me. “But I know you can do better. Remember those breakfasts


    you used to make, Coco?”


    I watched him, quietly taking him in. Those breakfasts were more so for my father and 1, especially


    as he got leaner over time. Getting the proper sustenance every day was a priority that he gave up


    on entirely.


    “I hope you enjoyed the meal,” Bruce taunted, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Maybe


    you should have brought a snack?”


    His words only served to deepen my resolve to escape. I had to keep him in at rtively good


    mood, which I was used to.


    “So, what’s your grand n, Bruce?” I asked weakly. “Why go through all this trouble?”


    Bruce hummed as he picked at his teeth with his pinkie nail. He spit out whatever residue had been


    lingering. “Simple. I’m going to get my share of the money you won in court.”


    I shifted in my seat, wincing as the rope cut into one of the burns it had left on my wrist while I was


    cutting it. Bruce was quick to notice this and he chuckled, leaning


    1. in.


    “Having trouble, Evie?” Bruce taunted, still seated beneath me like a petnt child. “I must say,


    you’re not as resourceful as I thought you were.”


    I resisted the urge to snap back at him. ying along, at least for the moment,


    him.


    might be my only chance to gain any advantage or at least for the moment,


    “I’m just making myself morefortable,” I said. “It’s not every day I find myself in this kind of


    situation.”


    Bruce chuckled. “You always did try so hard to act tough, Coco. Too defiant, just like your old man.”


    My heart leaped at the mention of myte father, who Bruce seemed determined to bring up at


    every moment possible.


    “You never knew him,” I said, my anger ring. “He had his own demons, and he


    took care of them in unfortunate ways.”


    Bruce’s smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, his eyes narrowing. “Ah, yes. Your


    dear old dad. Such a shame he couldn’t take care of his little girl properly.”


    I gritted my teeth, keeping my next words from slipping out. He was just trying to provoke me, to


    break my spirit, but I refused to give him the satisfaction.


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    “You’re just like him, you know,” Bruce continued, his voice dripping with venom. “Weak, pathetic, a


    burden to everyone around you.”


    His words stung, and I felt that familiar wave of self–doubt wash over me. He noted. my hesitation


    and his eyes widened.


    “Oh, Evie,” Bruce sneered. “You know you’re just fooling yourself. No one cares. about you. Not


    even the sad men that want to screw you.”


    My eyes began to sting as fresh tears threatened to spill. His words were all meant to prod at me,


    but they had broken through my resolve so easily. Only from Lucas and Aria did I ever hear an “I


    love you” said genuinely, but that doubt in my mind always lingered.


    “But anyway,” he switched the conversation, looking satisfied that he’d drawn out my tears. “I called


    lover boy, and he said he’d be here promptly to ‘bash my head.


    in


    He made air quotes around thatst part, but I could hear the tension in his voice. He stood up and


    dusted off his pants before kicking the bag of food off to the side. Then he walked around and


    ced his hands on my shoulders. his tight grip a warning on its own.


    Time seemed to crawl as we sat in the dimly lit shed. Every second felt like an eternity, and my


    heart pounded loudly in my ears. I strained to listen for any sound outside, praying that Timothy


    would find her.


    Suddenly, a familiar voice called out her name from beyond the walls of the shed. “Evie! Evie, are


    you in there?”


    Relief flooded through me, knowing that Timothy was close.


    “Tim-” I started to call his name before receiving a harsh p to the side of my head. I turned to


    re at Bruce.


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    Without warning, Bruce lunged at me, a knife gleaming in his hand. Before I could scream, he


    pulled out some duct tape and pressed a piece of it against my mouth, silencing me.


    “Shut the hell up.” Bruce hissed, his grip on the knife tightening. “Don’t make a sound, or i’ll make


    you regret it.”


    Timothy’s voice grew closer, his tone urgent. “Evie, where are you? Answer me!”


    Desperate to warn Timothy, I tried to kick against the shed’s wooden walls, hoping he would hear


    the noise and realize I was inside. But Bruce’s iron grip kept me restrained, his eyes filled with a


    sinister triumph.


    “You’re not going to ruin this for me, Evie,” Bruce whispered, his face inches from mine. “Don’t fuck


    this up.”


    In ast–ditch effort, I tried to scream, but the duct tape stifled her cries.


    Bruce gave up on trying to silence me, instead rushing to the door and ttening. him against the


    wall beside it. Abruptly, the shed door squealed open, and Timothy’s concerned face appeared in


    the doorway.


    “Evie? Are you in here?” Timothy’s eyes scanned the dim interior of the shed, hist gaze finally


    landing on me. He was drenched from head to toe in rain water, making his face and hair almost


    glimmer.


    Fear and relief washed over Timothy’s features as he saw me bound and gagged. Without


    hesitation, he rushed towards me, but Bruce sprang into action, brandishing the knife.


    “Not so fast,” Bruce warned, the knife gleaming dangerously in the dim light. “One step closer, and I


    won’t hesitate to use this.”


    Timothy’s eyes narrowed, but he wisely stopped in his tracks. His gaze locked with mine, however,


    as Bruce stepped toward him.


    “Let her go, Bruce,” Timothy said, his voice firm. “This doesn’t have to end badly for anyone.”


    Bruce’s lips twisted into a malicious smile. “Oh, but it does, Timothy. You don’t understand the kind


    of game I’m ying here.”


    My heart pounded as I took in the tense standoff between the two. Timothy


    wouldn’t back down, and I couldn’t decide if that was a terrible quality in this scenario.


    Even worse, Bruce seemed far more unpredictable and desperate, than before. The knife was a


    new essory he’d brought along into his game of torture. All I could do was pray that Timothy


    would find a way to save us both.


    “Damn, was the sex that good, Timmy?” Bruce snorted. “Gotta give it another whiff before you skip


    off to the next dumb broad?”


    “Shut you mouth!” Timothy growled.


    “Watch your temper, lover boy!” Bruce snapped back, waving the knife around. “I’m armed and


    dangerous, remember? I also have some conditions.”


    “You want money,” Timothy stated, but he seemed far more invested in me. He stepped closer to


    me, his eyes softening. “Evie, are you alright?” he asked urgently.


    I nodded, trying to mask my fear for his sake. “I’m okay, Timothy,” I managed to say, my voice


    trembling slightly.


    Bruce hummed. “Isn’t she just a brave little thing? So willing to protect her knight in shining armor,”


    he taunted, waltzing closer.


    Timothy’s jaw clenched, but he managed to keep his emotions in check. “You’re not getting a cent


    out of either of us. You’re just going to ask for more.”


    Bruce’s smile vanished, reced by a look of seething anger. “You are one arrogant asshole,” he


    said icily. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?”


    “I’m not here to y your games. Bruce.” Timothy replied, his voice unwavering. “Let Evie go, and


    we can settle this without violence.”


    Something ticked in Bruce’s expression. It seemed he would back down for a brief second, but then


    he lunged at Timothy, catching him off guard. The knife he had been wielding found its mark,


    piercing Timothy’s shoulder.


    A scream tore from my throat as Timothy cried out and copsed to his knees. Blood spilled from


    the wound and soaked his shirt in seconds.


    “Timothy!”


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