If Hell were any Closer

Nikki’s POV:

“No, Andy, stop it! I am done, okay? I am finished with this shit,” I snapped, stalking towards my fully packed suitcase and hauling it behind me as I made my way to the front door.

He of course, pleaded with me to stay behind, stay with him. “Nikki, baby, please, stay. Don’t go.” He begged, his deep voice breaking off in a short whimper.

I scowled as I fiddled with the complex lock, swinging the heavy door open and patting my pockets for my passport and cell phone. Once certain that they were indeed, there, I paused to gaze back at Andy again.

“Look, I understand you’re sorry and stuff, but I can’t honestly be here right now. So I’m going back home, have a good Christmas Andy.”

He reached for me once more before I was truly gone, letting the door swing shut behind me.

**3 hours earlier**

I took a deep breath as I pushed the heavy dresser aside precariously. I bit my lip as I opened the door with a shaky hand, and stepped outside of my safe-haven.

The living room looked deserted, but that could simply be a lie. He could be here, stranded in his room or simply hiding in the kitchen, downing more alcohol.

With soft feet I made my way to the kitchen, peering past the cabinets for any sign of movement but there was none. Maybe Danny snuck out of the apartment without my knowing? But then wouldn’t he have made a sound, seeing as how clumsy he was entering the apartment.

My body relaxed at the thought of no threat and I turn around, preparing to resume my Supernatural marathon when a hand moves to quickly cover my mouth, stifling a scream from me. I thrash in his grip, kicking out my legs and flailing my arms, which he expertly evades. Something tells me he isn’t as gone as I had first thought he was.

I bite down on the fleshy palm covering my mouth yet he doesn’t even flinch; he’s got guts that’s for sure.

He carefully manoeuvres us to the lone couch nearest the TV, and pins me down, keeping his hand covering my mouth. A wicked gleam glints in his dark eyes, adding a manic sort of aura to him. He looks terrifying, and he knows it.

I continue to thrash about angrily, refusing to go down without a decent fight at least when he unexpectedly whips out a hand to imbed itself into my stomach, knocking the wind from my lungs. I gasp for breath against his clammy hand, feeling claustrophobic suddenly.

“About time I finally got you, you bitch,” he sneers angrily, leaning his head down to whisper in my ear. “You know, that nail filer hurt like a bitch.”

And then it all comes rushing back to me. He was the one to break into my house not even a week ago. He wasn’t here when Andy was, and had run off so suddenly when the police arrived. He wanted to finish the job, for whatever reason that I cannot explain.

The bastard.

I struggle to speak against his sweaty hand, to which he only increases to mock me. “Oh, what was that? Sorry love, you’ve got to learn to speak up, especially when it isn’t just my hand in your mouth.” He smirks, and a sick feeling penetrates my stomach, sending waves of nervous butterflies throughout my being.

He finally removes his disgusting hand and I practically spit in his face, “you are such a fucked up bastard, you know that?”

He throws his head back in laughter; “you’re pretty ballsy for a girl who basically is trapped here.” He grins, his eyes glinting dangerously in the dim lighting.

I scowl and direct all of my willpower to my legs, forcefully bringing my knee up to try and hit his groin. He’s too heavy though, and I only mange to scrape his inner thigh, but it sends him off balance and gives me a chance to shove him off of me. Danny topples to the floor ungracefully as I leap to my feet, vaulting over the back of the couch and darting to Andy’s room.

I don’t make it far as arms lock around me waist, throwing me carelessly to the hard flooring below. I gasp upon impact, but am quick to roll away as he directs a bruising kick to my abdomen, which only grazes me upper arm instead. I aim another kick to his nether region only this time it successfully lands and he groans out in pain, dropping to his knees before me.

I grin and hurl myself into the back porch, shutting the door from the outside. I align a rusty table in front of the glass doors as I search for a way out, but of course, there isn’t an exit sign when you are eight stores above the ground, with an exception for the fire escape.

A quick glance through the glass doors tells me all I need to know; Danny has recovered more or less and can easily break past my weak attempt at a barrier. It will require some force, but he can do it.

The ladder attached to the porch leading downwards is rusted shut and refuses to budge no matter how hard I push and pull at it, however the one going upwards is in working order. Only one-way to go: up.

I hastily move up the first two ladders with ease, only pausing when the clash of the door being busted open sends shocks down my shaking spine. I ignore it as best as I can and continue to move towards the roof, where hopefully I’ll be able to go through the door and get downstairs again.

I face a new dilemma when I reach the fifth ladder – finding no access to the roof, aka no ladder. I quickly kick the previous ladder down in hopes of delaying Danny some more as I formulate a new plan.

I hate this plan, I really do. But I refuse to be a helpless damsel in distress.

Hopping up onto the fragile railing, I grasp onto the brick wall for balance as I prepare to leap up and grab a hold of the wire balcony. I used to be a gymnast when I was younger and I always hated the bars, but perhaps it won’t be so bad you know, when my life depends on it. One can always hope.

I shut my eyes tightly, mentally trying to prepare myself for what is to come as I jump into the air. The cool metal brushes past my fingers and I close my hands into tight fists, swinging myself up onto the next level.

The urge to scream for joy is overshadowed when I spot Danny, having successfully caught up to me. Now is not the time for celebration, so with that in mind, I race up the ladders. Making my way to the roof.

When I finally get to the top of the apartment complex, a thought crosses my mind.

What if the door is locked?

Seriously, what will I do then? I am essentially trapped up here like a sitting duck, waiting for my horrible fate to cross.

I mean, I have dallied in the art of parkour, but I seriously doubt I can still do it. But maybe with my adrenaline rush going…

Times up as Danny swings himself up onto the ledge, his eyes dark and breathing rough as he slowly advances, knowing already that I’m trapped. What he doesn’t expect is when I sprint further away from him, not even stopping to look down at the quickly approaching ledge and the street, stories below.

I don’t look down once as my feet leave the ground.

Notes

tbh this chapter was sooo much fun to write! it might not be realistic but realism is overrated ;)
thoughts/guesses on nikki's future career path?

also I am so sxcited for book 3!! I already have a plot and a title so yay!!