This is just a replay of my life, a dozen times over. It’s not lost on me that this is no sort of existence but I have no choice. I get myself into these situations and sometimes running is the only way out.
I waste time looking for a bag and start to get extremely anxious as the clock keeps ticking. I pull out a small gym holdall I assume is his from the wardrobe and push what I can inside. Pulling on a jacket I go to the window to try and get it open. It takes effort, even though this is a modern and well-maintained apartment, I am not familiar with the locks or how to open the damn things. I manage to slide it enough to get my hand and arm outside, eyeing up the metal fire escape through the glass and push the bag out by squishing it through forcefully so it lands with a gentle thud on the staircase outside. Luckily this building is only five or so floors high and I am not about to escape from a massively high penthouse.
The fire escape is a proper metal staircase from what I can see and the bottom floor has a pull-down ladder. It’s do-able. I manage to pull the window further but it stops dead about a foot over and I cannot get it to budge no matter how hard I push. There is a slim chance of me getting through that gap, but I am determined to try it anyway angling myself to get through sideways. I manage to slide my head and shoulders through but my ample bust is a bit of an effort and a half. Squeezing and wriggling until I get through and then shimmy to my waist, grazing my chest uncomfortably and start lifting my feet in a bid to find leverage as I dangle head first out of the open window.
My legs thrash about until I find something solid with one foot and push hard against it to give my body much needed traction, except the solid mass wraps around my ankle and yanks me back as I let out an almighty yelp in complete shock. Turning and struggling as I am pulled up hard inwards and my breasts wedge me tight in the gap in reverse of my first manoeuvre. The enraged glaring Italian on the other side of the glass is enough to make me lose all fight and I fall stiffly still when he reaches out with his free hand and unclips the window slider at the top. I fall inwards with an inelegant crash and whelp as my body collides with the floor. It’s not wholly painful, but it’s enough to knock the wind out of my sails and I can only stare helplessly in wide-eyed horror as nerves and fear come crashing down on top of me at his feet, trembling instantly because I made an already raging psycho worse.
‘’I swear to fucking God, I should beat you black and blue for trying this shit again,’’ Alexi growls at me, still holding my foot in mid-air as I thrash around on the floor trying to kick myself free from the iron grip, still determined to run as he bruises my ankle with the sheer force of his hold on me. He must have been closer than I realised and got here in record time. This is the worst possible outcome for me right now.
I just pushed him from maybe a seven on his bad mood scale to an eleven easily and he appears nuclear. He lets me go suddenly and my leg falls at an alarming speed, banging my heel on the floor with another thud and a sharp pain up my ankle. It’s then I realise Mico is standing in the doorway looking completely pissed off too, except I have no clue at which one of us, as he is glaring at Alexi’s head like he might actually jump him if he touches me again.
‘‘Go ahead, I don’t fucking care,’’ I yell straight back at him defiantly and I catch Mico wincing out of the corner of my eye. His eyes flashing from Alexi to me and I know he is silently trying to tell me to pipe down and stop aggravating his cousin. He knows as well as I do that this is not how you handle him, and I am only making this worse.
My fury and bravado waivers slightly until that pale grey glare hits my eyes and Alexi snarls in that sinister way that makes my body recoil.
‘’Pretty sure I have a room fit for the purpose of doing just that. I told you before that you should never push me.’’ He reminds me and the last ounce of every part of my bravery dies, the devil standing in front of me smug at his ability to inflict fear. Memories of that room and being tied to that cross, memories of being tied, beaten and abused mercilessly over and over in my past. My face runs cold as the warmth of my blood drains down into my body as though freezing ice water is flushing through my veins instead and fear replaces anger.
‘’Over my dead body!’’ Mico is the one to speak up this time making me jump, and Alexi spins his head to glare at his cousin instead. A silent war of two glaring formidable bodied men in full aggressive mode and I curl up and try and shimmy backwards against the wall in a bid to get smaller and slink away from the flying testosterone.
It’s funny how you revert to childhood habits when faced with a similar kind of horror. I've lost count of how many times I would curl up and try to hide from cruel hands and monsters. I have no clue what Alexi will do to me anymore. I have lost all trust in him after he grabbed me in the club and threatened to end my life, if I ever trusted him at all.