Page 71 of Wrench (The Club Girl Diaries 6)

Then the drugs had started, and it was like he’d lost his mind.

“I—”

Ding dong.

Peter’s head flicked to the side, clearly annoyed at the interruption. I stayed pinned to the wall, even as he took a step back and waved the gun in front of me. “Don’t move.”

I could see part of the door from where I stood. He walked over and pulled it open. “What do you want, Ruby?” he asked harshly as a small blonde girl stepped inside. Even though she had her back to me I could tell she was only young.

“He won’t give me anything. I need you,” her soft voice pleaded. Her hands hung at her sides, both of them shaking profusely. She had a tattoo on the back of one, it looked like writing, elegant and cursive, but I couldn’t make out what it said.

“I told you not to come here,” Peter threw back.

I needed to get out of here.

He shoved her toward the door, but she fought back. Their voices becoming low angry whispers. I knew this house, I could get out while he was distracted, but first I had to force my body to move.

Wrench.If I could get to him I’d be okay.

I kept the image of Wrench in my mind. He was standing beside me, he wasn’t touching me but he was there.

Fight back, damn it.

Get the hell out.

I took one slow step, and then another. There was a back passage that led from this small sitting room and into the kitchen. I headed for it, freezing as I reached the doorway. There was no light inside, it was long and dark. I was scared, once the shadows got a hold of me, would I be able to go any further. This room, it was light, big windows allowed the sun to shine in.

I looked over at them. They were open, just slightly, just enough to fit my body through.

I changed my path and stumbled toward the window. I could still hear Peter and the young girl arguing at the front door which spurred me on. My shaking hands clutched the window frame and I lifted my leg, slipping it through the gap.

I could do this. If I didn’t, who knew what Peter would do to keep me here. His delusions of us being together made him sound crazy.

He was fucking crazy.

I slipped half my body through the space, holding onto the frame as I hefted my other leg out and hung there for a moment, taking a deep breath as I prepared to drop myself into the garden below.

The window was around the side of the house, safe from the view of the front porch, but I was scared the noise would alert him. Then I heard him yell, and in that moment I let go, dropping down into the bushes under the cover of his voice. I lay there for a moment, not sure what to do next.

Where could I go?

Where could I run to?

I had no phone, no way of contacting anyone to come for me.

Fuck! I could barely move, my breathing becoming heavier and heavier as I fought to keep myself awake and alert.

Just run.

I fought against my brain, even though every part of it screamed at me to cower. On shaking hands and knees I crawled through the bushes, I could feel sharp sticks poking at my skin, but I felt no pain. Survival mode had kicked in, and I needed to make it through this, just like every other episode I had. It was hard for me to think that I wasn’t crazy, that this would eventually end, but I held onto that anyway.

The limo sat in the driveway empty. I couldn’t see the driver around, so I scurried across the lawn and ducked down behind it. Two deep breaths and then I took off, just as the door to the house slammed shut behind me. I stumbled as I got to the footpath, catching myself before I fell and then powering forward again. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I ran, hiding my face as cars passed by, probably looking at me like I was a crazed lunatic.

Nothing new there.

I knew Peter would come looking, so I took a side street.

My legs were weak, and I struggled to breathe through the torrent of tears that streaked down my face. Turning down another street, there were just houses and houses, and I wasn’t sure what to do.