My seven-year itch with my guard boyfriend

Chapter 14 Chapter 14

After living for nearly 30 years, I am now in an unprecedented plight of magical realism-I was tied up by gangsters in a broken car with air leaks on all sides, my hands and feet were tied, and I was squeezed into a group of weeping girls , comforting a sobbing boy with the intention of getting him to stab me.

"Don't cry, big brother, don't cry...don't. Mom cry!"

Hearing my comforting words in a soft voice, he cried even louder: "What's the matter, that bandit's stick can stab a person to death!"

"...Where is your brother from?"

The little boy wiped away his tears, showing a white and delicate face, sobbing and saying, "Guanzhong."

I sighed: "Come on, brother, don't cry for now. If you can go up the mountain, it means you won't die. If you get stabbed to death with a stick, you will die. Do me a favor now," I turned around with difficulty. "Help me take out my...well, the knife in my obscene pants."

He cried even harder: "What are you doing? You put the knife in your pants?"

"They searched, where else can I put it in my underwear?" I was so irritable, "Hurry up, take it out?"

He choked up and nodded.I said, "Cut a knife on the palm of my hand, don't make it too deep, as long as there is blood."

He opened his eyes wide in horror: "What are you going to do..."

I roared in a low voice: "Hurry up! If you don't leave a mark, whoever knows where you went!"

He nodded quickly, gritted his teeth tremblingly, and slashed my open palm heavily in an awkward posture. The pain made me suck my teeth, and blood came out immediately.I moved my hand along the biggest gap in this broken car with air leaks from all sides, and slapped it hard on the ground.

Blood spattered and fell to the ground.

The child put the knife back into my underwear, stopped crying, and asked tremblingly, "Why don't you just cut the rope, brother?"

I sighed again: "Cutting the rope and jumping the car now is not useful except to expose that you have a knife. Can you beat them or I can beat them?"

The little boy leaned towards me tremblingly: "Then what do you think if they are...truly that, brother?"

I froze for a moment and said in a low voice, "I don't know."

The words blurted out, and my heart was actually at a loss.I thought about it, but still didn't know how to deal with myself, so I repeated: "I don't know."

He stopped talking and nestled next to me like a quail.

I was silent for a while, and said: "If this time really comes, this knife will come in handy."

It is a miracle that this broken car has been wobbly all the way up the mountain without falling apart. I brushed my blood all the way, and when I got out of the car, I was a little staggered. He steadied me and whispered, "Brother...I'm scared."

We were tied up and driven away like pigs and dogs. I didn't know what to say, so I shook my head at him.

We were finally herded into a shabby house with a built-in arch. They bolted the door from the outside. I could hear their excited and tense conversation, but I couldn't understand what was being said. It wasn't long before the door was locked. Kicking away as if making a show, the man in the lead was being held up like a star, and his eyes darted over everyone like he was taking off his clothes—he seemed to enjoy this kind of glance at others, and everyone was terrified Feeling trembling, his eyes slowly slid over everyone's face, like looking at prey, and if a girl trembled or made a sound of panic, he would laugh out loud.

He looked at us carefully for a long time like playing around, and finally said slowly in a strange tone: "Forget it, the girls can't stand the trouble, I'm very happy tonight."

I knew he was speaking to us when he spoke in Chinese, and my back stiffened.

He smiled and nodded at the boy with his chin: "It's you."

Someone immediately went to drag him, the boy froze for a moment, struggled crazily, howled hysterically, and threw himself on the ground. They laughed and watched the boy's cries and struggles as if they were watching a play. The man squinted his eyes enjoying the boy's hands pawing at the ground and the door until his fingernails peeled off and left bloodstains on the ground. A hoarse wail of despair.

"Don't! Don't! Help! Help! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Help!"

"Help!"

"Brother! Brother, save me!"

The boy looked at me in a panic.

As if he had found a savior all of a sudden, he started shouting "Brother save me" over and over again, and the blood all over my body turned cold instantly.

Son, I can't save you, but I guess I'll die here with you.

Sure enough, the man gave an "oh" with great interest, walked up to him and knelt down, and said, "You really want him to save you?"

He turned his back to me, didn't look at me, and said: "Then take him with you."

Next is a memory that I don't want to recall the most. It is so chaotic, shaking, mixed with painful and terrified wailing and helpless struggle.I was tied to a pillar, and watched as the child was pushed on the bed, his legs were stretched apart, and his limbs were firmly fixed. The blood flowed down the legs. He could still groan with the movement of the man's waist at first. It sounded like a human voice, but afterward, the sound gradually became quieter, and finally he didn't move and didn't scream, his eyes were rolled up, and he lay like a dead body, and gradually lost his voice.

I can't do anything, I can only take out the knife I hid bit by bit without being noticed, block it with the back of my hand, and break the thick rope that binds my hands bit by bit.

Seeing that the boy stopped struggling, the man clicked his tongue in disappointment, patted the boy's face, and sighed: "It turns out that men can't stand this much."

He stood up and walked in front of me, and said with a smile, "You didn't save him."

Only two laps left.I gritted my teeth and fumbled the rope without answering.

He just smiled and tore open my front placket.

With the last cut, the rope fell in response.

I stabbed hard at his neck.

Unprepared, he tilted his head subconsciously, the blade scraped his flesh and left a long bloodstain, he glared at me in disbelief, cursed something, and punched my head with the wind, As soon as I lowered my head to dodge, he slashed my wrist heavily in my posture.

Clang.

My knife is out of hand.