Curiosity Broke Kat - Chapter 5: Poised and Punished
Grabbing my clothes, I hurriedly clamber into them, not bothering with my bra and panties still lying in the bathroom, or even taking the time to button up my tight jeans. I sit on the bed, pulling the boots onto each foot before stumbling across the room. My red hair fans across my shoulders and face as I open the bedroom door, slowly peeking out into the corridor.
Leo stares back at me, arms crossed, back leaning against the wall as he shakes his head in dismay. "Morning, Mistress."
"Eww." Mistress? I shiver, slamming the door in his face, the sound of him muttering something rude only partially muted through the wood. Now what?
I head for the bathroom and close the door, rechecking the window. I could pick the lock if I had my tools...or even just two paperclips would do it. Marching back into the bedroom, I rifle through the vanity desk, finding nothing thin or pointy enough to do the trick. Moving on the the cupboard, then the chest of drawers, I finally come across a woman's purse and strike gold -- discovering several hair ties and bobby pins tucked away inside. Not allowing myself the time to ruminate on who that purse might belong to, I grab the chair beside the vanity and lean it against the bedroom door on its two back legs, the backrest tucked under the handle. It won't stop them, but it might slow them down. Back inside the bathroom, I pry open the pins and work away at the lock, holding my breath, listening for the sound of the mechanisms working.
Click.
I step back, somewhat surprised I was able to pop the lock without my gear. I pull the handle and the cool, fresh air hits me, morning dew coating the outside frame and wetting my jumper as I lean forward to peer outside. A pipe, likely a grey-water outlet runs from one of the rooms on the third floor, down the wall just parallel to the window...perhaps I can--
"Miss Bloomer?" Leo calls. The distinct sound of a metal handle striking wood sends tingles of alarm up my arms and legs. "Did you lock the door?" he asks, jiggling the handle once again.
No time to think. Need to act. Need to move. Climbing onto the sink, I crawl through the window up to my waist, leaning across to grab the pipe. Just as the sound of splintering wood rocks through me, I grip the pipe with both hands and haul the rest of my body through the window, holding on for dear life.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Leo calls angrily from the window.
I keep my eyes pinned shut, not wanting to look down, not wanting to look across. If this pipe had been plastic, I would have slipped and fallen by now. Thankfully, due to the age of the house, the pipes were in fact metal, possibly lead.
"You didn't exactly give me much of a choice," I grind out in return, concentrating on finding a foothold in the fastenings keeping the pipe to the wall. "None of you did. You just decided to kidnap me, then beat me in front of your little cronies."
Leo pauses long enough for me to turn my head and see the scrunched-up face he's making, "Nobody says cronies, please don't ever say that again."
I roll my eyes and start my decent, slipping slightly on the wet, crudely painted pipe. "You know," I mutter, grunting with the effort to keep from falling, "you should really get a plumber out to check these pipes, they're corroded to --" I glance up only to find the window now empty. "FUCK!"
Sliding, scraping and scurrying down the pipe, I drop the last few feet, rolling my ankle and cursing up a storm as I hotfoot it across the lawn. Shouts emerge from the manor, a familiar, deep voice barking orders to the others. Logan. He had taken a risk bringing me in, 'claiming me' as he had put it. But I'm a human being. I get to make my own choices. Fuck their organisation.
I make it to the garden wall and after tearing holes in my clothes and about three layers of skin off my knees and elbows, I tumble over the top and down onto the bushes below. Crawling through the undergrowth, I drag my bruised and battered limbs out of the foliage and begin picking my way through the forest adjacent to the manor, crossing my arms and tucking my hands into the warmth of my pits as I hobble over the uneven terrain. I really didn't really think this through. I should have gone south, towards the main road. If I'm stuck out here by the time it gets dark, I'll freeze my tits off.
Soft, far-away voices carry on the wind, Logan and his men searching the woods around the estate. They likely checked along the road first, so I'm well ahead, their shouts barely a whisper against the rustling of leaves in the breeze.
Shivering, hunching my shoulders and holding myself tight, I continue north, hoping my prior research was correct. Before stealing the ring I'd naturally done my homework on the surrounding area. About 5 miles ahead there's another main road...if I can reach it before Logan reaches me, I might have a chance.
A branch snaps somewhere behind and I turn so quickly I lose my footing, falling amongst the broken twigs and wet leaves. Dappled sunlight breaks through the foliage, but fails to touch the shadows, fails to show me who's watching.
"I knew you would run," a cold voice calls from behind the cover of trees. I don't need to see their face to know who it is.
"Michael," I breathe, fear coiling around my stomach.
"Logan's a fool. He should have let me kill you and just been done with it."
I raise a hand self-consciously to my neck, to the faint bruises that now pepper the skin from our first encounter earlier this morning. My mouth opens and closes, excuses and pleas on the tip of my tongue. When he steps into the light, his cool, hard expression tells me to save my breath. "I'm his," I whisper instead. "I'm under his--"
"Protection?" Michael finishes with a sneer. "You pissed that away the moment you took off." When I shake my head in denial, he rolls his eyes and stalks towards me. "Now you're all mine."
I scream, scrambling to my feet and ignoring the stab of pain in my ankle. Feet pound on the soft ground behind me, and I barely make it two steps before I'm tackled to the ground, my face crushed into the dirt as Michael's hands grip both of my wrists. I scream again as he pulls me to my feet, the sound cut short as he delivers a sharp, brutal slap across my face.
"One more sound and I'll cut your vocal cords," Michael seethes, fingers wrapping around my throat, his face inches from mine.
I close my eyes, a sob desperately trying to claw its way past my lips. I remain soundless, mirthless and numb as Michael removes his belt and wraps it around my wrists, tying both in front of me. If my ankle wasn't fucked, I might be able to take him. He isn't like Logan, he's smaller, more wiry...my skill would almost certainly outmatch his strength. Michael pulls out a blade and presses it to the hollow of my throat, dissolving any thought of fighting back.
