Chapter 120
Chapter 120
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There’s a certain kind of terror that settles deep in your bones when you know you only get one chance. One single shot, and if you miss it, you’ll never get another.
That’s what it felt like. Every second with Gerald in that cabin was a countdown not to freedom, but to the part of me that was still alive burning out completely. I’d already felt pieces of myself slip away every time I lied, every time I smiled when I wanted to scream, every time I let him touch me without flinching.
And I knew I knew-if I stayed here much longer, there’d be nothing left to save. Not even for Aaron.
So the plan came simple. Brutal. Dangerous.
I wasn’t waiting for a miracle.
I was going to carve my own way out.
The next day, Gerald woke me before dawn. He was humming, that same broken tune he always hummed when he thought he was happy. He laid out breakfast, told me I looked beautiful even though I knew I was a ghost in torn pajamas, and pressed a kiss to my forehead before heading out again.
He’s been going out the same time for the past few days.
“I’ll be back soon,” he said, his voice light but his eyes sharp, always sharp. “Stay here. Be good for me, yeah p>
I nodded. Smiled. Watched him leave.
This time, I counted every step he took outside, every rustle of leaves, every fading crunch of his boots until the silence swallowed him whole. I gave it another two minutes. My hands were already shaking before I moved.
I grabbed the chair again, dragged it to the window I’d tested yesterday. My nails still ached from trying to pry it open last time. This time, I didn’t just use my hands. I picked up the rusted spoon Gerald had left by my breakfast plate and wedged it into the crack where wood met frame.
It groaned, the nails holding it in place whining in protest. I bit my lip hard, sweat dripping down my spine, praying the sound wasn’t carrying outside. I twisted the spoon harder, the metal bending under my grip until the board gave a fraction
of an inch.
“Come on,” I hissed under my breath, breathless. “Come on p>
Another push. Another groan. Finally, one of the nails came loose enough that I could pull with my bare hands, splinters digging into my skin. The first board gave way with a sharp snap nearly making me stumble off the chair. I froze, listening. Nothing.
My pulse thundered, every beat screaming run, run, run.
I tossed the board to the floor as quietly as I could and went for the second one. My fingers slipped, blood now slick on the wood from the small cuts splitting my skin. My arms burned, weak from weeks of malnutrition, but I pulled and yanked like my life depended on it. Because it did.
Another board loose. Just one more and I could slip through. Just one-
The crunch of footsteps outside.
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Chapter 120
Close. Too close.
My stomach dropped.
He wasn’t supposed to be back yet.
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I scrambled down from the chair, my movements frantic but silent, trying to drag it back to the table where it belonged. My breath came in short, sharp bursts as I darted a glance around the room. The boards I’d ripped free were on the floor. obvious, damning.
I grabbed them, shoved them under the bed just as the latch clicked outside the door. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I thought he’d hear it.
The door opened.
Gerald stepped in.
His face was unreadable. Calm. Too calm. But his eyes went straight to me, then flicked to the window. To the chair. Back to
Every nerve in my body screamed lie, lie, lie, but my brain blanked.
“You moved the chair,” he said softly, shutting the door behind him.
I swallowed hard. “I—yeah. I wanted to reach a book on the shelf
He stared. A long, suffocating silence stretched between us. Then, slowly, he crossed the room and looked at the shelf I’d gestured to. His fingers traced the dust on the books that hadn’t been touched in weeks.
“Which one?” he asked.
My breath hitched.
I pointed at random, my hand trembling despite my desperate attempt to hold it steady. “That one. The green one p>
He picked it up, turned it in his hands. A thin layer of dust coated his fingertips. His lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“You’ve been bored, haven’t you?” he murmured.
I nodded quickly. “Yes. I just… wanted something to read p>
He walked toward me slowly, the book dangling from his hand. He stopped just close enough that I could feel the heat of his body. His free hand cupped my cheek gently,too gentle.
“You know you don’t need to lie to me, right?” he whispered. “I give you anything if you just asked p>
I forced a small smile, the kind that made my stomach twist. “I now,” I said softly.
His eyes searched mine for a moment longer before he stepped back, his smile widening in false warmth. “Good girl,” he said finally, brushing his knuckles down my jaw. “Ask next time. No more climbing chairs, yeah? Don’t want you to hurt yourself p>
I nodded obediently, my lungs tight, my heart still hammering ke a trapped bird.
He left the book on the table, kissed my forehead, and went about his day as if nothing had happened.
But the whole time, I could feel it.
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Chapter 120
He didn’t buy my lie.
Not completely.
G
And if I made one wrong move again, he wouldn’t just watch me next time.
He’d cage me tighter. Maybe permanently.
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That night, lying awake while Gerald slept in the chair by the door, I replayed every second in my head. The timing of his steps. The distance to the window. The sound of nails groaning under wood.
And I swore to myself, shaking and wide-eyed in the dark, that next time?
Next time I wouldn’t almost make it.
I’d be gone before he even knew I was trying.
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Ruby Walker
Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish. Ruby’s writing style is bold and irresistible—perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.