Page 33 of A Taste Of Darkness

“As I said?—”

He slapped me again. This time even harder.

My eyes filled with tears, but I tried my best not to sob. If someone told me a month ago that I’d ever find myself stalked by men that I didn’t know, I would’ve laughed right into their faces.

Nothing that I ever did in my entire life should’ve led me to this. Nobody even knew I was involved in my sister’s ex-boyfriend’s brother’s death. I’d never been rude to anyone. I never used bad words in my life or got myself involved with people that I shouldn’t have.

This had to have been a very bad fever dream that I couldn’t seem to wake up from.

“Don’t make me ask again, bitch!”

His grip around my wrists loosened slightly, but I wasn’t stupid enough to move and try to escape because I knew it was useless. Had I moved, he would’ve just tightened his grip, so I had to wait for the perfect moment.

“And I’ve been trying to tell you that I don’t know who you’re talking about,” I said.

Surprise painted the guy’s strong features, his hands loosening more with every second as he realized he had the wrong person.

“Luca,” he repeated as if that was going to make me remember a person I didn’t know. “Luca Veneto. You know him, bitch.”

I shook my head, still keeping the rest of my body as still as possible.

“Avanti. Non mentirmi, okay?” [Come on, don’t lie to me, alright?]

That sounded like Italian, but I wasn’t sure since I didn’t speak the language myself. I’d tried to learn it back in high school, but I chose a different language instead. “I-I don’t understand.”

The guy shook his head with annoyance and tsked. “Useless bitch.”

Finally, his hands were loose enough, and he was too distracted by what he now realized was a stupid mistake on his part that I felt I could at least try to get away.

I ripped my hands away from him, not caring if I bruised my skin on the wall as I brushed it while pulling away from his grip.

As he stood frozen before me, trying to process what just happened, I reached my hand into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a knife that I spotted a second before escaping his captivity. It wasn’t a big one, but big enough to do immense damage if I happened to hit the wrong organs had I used it.

He chuckled when he gathered himself. “A knife doesn’t scare me, little whore.” He swung his arm around and drew my attention back to the gun.

Sure, a knife wasn’t nearly as useful as a gun if you had no idea how to use it.

I shrugged. “I never said your gun scared me, and still you held it against my head.”

I swear, if anyone else were to hold a gun to my head at any point in my life, I would simply give up. But at least I was less scared this time.

He stepped closer and tried to corner me again, but I finally lost my patience with this guy. I let him get closer until I could reach him properly and turn him around. Before he knew it, I stabbed the knife through one of his hands and pinned it against the tree next to where he held me captive a minute ago.

My stomach was turning as I felt the knife press past bones and through his flesh, but I kept it together.

He yelped at the pain and dropped his gun, which I caught before it hit the floor since he was too busy staring at his impaled hand. I guess he was shocked enough because he didn’t even attempt to remove the knife with his now free hand, or he feared bleeding out. I didn’t know, but it didn’t concern me either.

I aimed the gun at him, stepped back so he couldn’t touch me, and turned the tables once more.

“If one of you comes near me one more time,” I said as I slowly lowered the gun and aimed it at his legs instead. I pulled the trigger, feeling a smile tug on the corners of my lips when he cried out in pain once more. “I’ll rip out every single organ inside of your bodies with my bare hands.”

Just to make it clear that I meant it, I shot him again. The bullet hit him just above the middle of his thigh this time.

I didn’t think I was going to hit him, but I wasn’t upset that I did either.

18

IN A HEARTBEAT

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