Sometimes he loves me

Chapter 47

EMMA

Vincent's gaze goes to the bloody footprints from me to the body next to the bed and it takes him a minute to process what he's seeing. His eyes dart to me and they turn into black pits.

"What the hell Emma! What did you do?!" He charges for me.

I grab the lamp from the drawer next to me and lift the heavy metal above my head. "Get away from me!" I cry as I swing it towards his head. A shock goes through my body when I hit him, followed by nausea. The thought that I might have to kill him too flashes through my head. I feel bile rise in my throat, but I will... I will kill him if it's to save my own life. I realised that the moment I stabbed the man on the floor with that pen.

Unfortunately my attempt to hit Vincent with the lamp isn't a killing blow and he only staggers backwards. He has fire in his eyes and his hands on his head to see if he's bleeding, and he is.

"Bitch!" He yells and he looks up at me with anger. I quickly push off the wall and run past him, towards the stairs and down to the entryway. Breathing hard, I reach the front door, but it doesn't open as I bump into it and my gaze darts to the little screen next to the door.

"You need the code to open that." I look over my shoulder and startle when Vincent stands on the last few steps of the stairs, one hand on his head still. "And that hurt, 'darling'." He grits his teeth in anger.

I run past him into the living room, but don't get far when he jumps off the stairs and grabs my neck. I dig my nails into his hands and claw up his skin, but it doesn't stop him from dragging me to the dining area.

"Fucking whore." He spits and throws me against the dining table. Pain explodes in my stomach when I hit the corner and I gasp for air, falling to the ground on my knees.

When he walks towards me again I quickly crawl backwards to the kitchen, searching for something. ANYTHING to protect myself with.

I look up at him and panic almost takes over me, but the adrenaline keeps me going. I grab a pan from the kitchen cabinet and aim for his head, but I miss and he grasps my wrist. The pan falls loudly to the floor, making my ears ring.

"You think you're smart, don't you?" His hands go to my shoulders and he starts shaking me. "But you're a fucking dumb ass bitch!"

Loud sobs escape my throat. "Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this to me?"

He stops shaking me and looks down. "You did this, Emma! You make me act this way. It's all your fucking fault!"

As much as those words hurt, I know they aren't true. The weak me from months ago would have believed him though and I feel my blood boil at the thought of how he manipulated me all these years. How I let myself be manipulated and gaslighted.

"You're a fucking psychopath!" I manage to swing my legs up and kick him in his ribs. He falls against the refrigerator and I immediately get up to make a run for the back door. I need to get out of here, he will kill me if I don't.

Pain shoots through my head like a bullet when he grabs my hair and yanks me back. I fall to the floor and my head hits the refrigerator. I groan with the impact.

"What did you call me?" He hovers over me and puts his hand around my throat. "Say that again."

"Fucking. Psychopath." The words come hoarse and falter from my clenched throat.

"Would a psychopath take you on this vacation?" His grip on my throat weakens, but I can still feel his hand burning around my neck. When I don't answer he brings his thumb to my lower lip and strokes it. "Well?"