King of the Underworld by RJ Kane

Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two
Sephie
I found myself in a familiar old house, d*rty from neglect. That smell of sweat that never seemed to go away hit my nostrils, giving me the familiar nausea that was constant the entire time I lived there.
No, no, no, no. I can’t be back here. I ran away. He can’t touch me. He doesn’t know where I went and he’s too l*zy to look for me.
I hear a familiar voice in my head, screaming my name. “SEPHIE! YOU GET OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!”
I knew the routine. He was going to yell at me for some perceived slight that was, in reality, his fault, but he was too drunk to remember. I sighed, hung my head, and walked to my furious uncle. Only this time, it wasn’t my uncle. It was Anthony. I froze in place when I saw it was Anthony instead of my uncle. Terror took hold. I looked around me for something I could use as a weapon, but as I was reaching for a small lamp, the scene changed completely. I was no longer in my uncle’s d*sgusting house. I was in a chair, somewhere I’d never been before. The exposed fluorescent lights flickered above me. There was one door to the room, in front of me. I tried to get up, but realized I was tied to the chair. I started to panic.
The door opened, revealing Anthony, with a sinister look in his eye. This wasn’t going to be good. He walked toward me, never taking his eyes off me. He reached out and brushed the side of my face with the back of his hand. I desperately tried to get away, just like I had tried to get away from him at the restaurant.

“Still haven’t learned your lesson, I see,” he said.
“We’ve been over this. School was not my thing. So, you tell me, who isn’t getting the lesson here – me or you?”
I felt him punch me with such force that it knocked my chair backward. I was now on my back, still tied to the chair, and unable to get free. It didn’t stop me from trying to get free, but my attempts were unsuccessful.
Think, Sephie. You’ve been in this situation before, and you got free. Keep your head in the game.
He pulled my chair upright again, leaning on the arms of the chair, so that he was eye level with me.
“You’re so pretty. It’s a sh*me to ruin that pretty face.”
“What do you want with me, Anthony? Like seriously. You said it yourself. You can have any girl you want. Why me?”
He laughed. It was not the laugh of someone who was amused, however. This was the laugh of an in*ane person. His smile didn’t reach his cold, dead eyes.
“It isn’t just you, carrot top,” he said, picking a knife off a table against the wall. “You belong to Ghost now. I saw the anger in his eyes when I smacked your a*s in that restaurant. I want to hurt him, but I can’t get to him.” He was trailing the knife down my neck to my chest. He stopped just above my heart, pressing the knife into my skin in a way that felt oddly familiar to me. “So, I hurt you to get to him. And when he comes for you? I k*ll him.”
I’m not sure what came over me at the thought of Adrik being killed, but I screamed as loud as I possibly could.
1 was suddenly not in the chair but lying in bed covered in sweat. Where was Anthony? How did I get away?
My bedroom door swung open, and Adrik rushed to me.
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