Page 39 of Devil's Deal

His voice is mild but it chills me to the bone. There is glee in there, and quiet satisfaction, and finally, I know. This is what he’s like. Every kind word and gesture, every crumb of respect I so desperately wanted to believe, is a lie. The devil reveals his true face, and it’s hideous.

I stop moving, my body breaking out in a cold sweat. Przemyslaw takes a wobbly step toward Bogna, and she shivers but doesn’t move. She’s frozen, a baby lamb watching the prowling fox. I open my mouth to scream, hoping it will jolt her into action, but Woland’s hand presses to my lips, muffling the sound.

I fight his hold. I bite, I kick, I scream into his palm, but it’s no use. He just holds me closer, his strength overwhelming. I can’t compete.

Bogna raises her hands in a placating motion. “Honey, my love, why don’t we go home and…”

“RUN!” I scream through Woland’s hand, but she doesn’t hear me. “Run away!”

“Shut up,” Przemyslaw slurs, pointing a shaky finger at her. “You always talk and talk and talk. Shut up, you bitch!”

“You’ll miss the show if you keep thrashing like this,” Woland says in a low, amused voice.

Like it’s all a performance. A fucking joke, and not my friend’s life on the line. Blinding hate sears my mind and I vow then and there to destroy him. No matter the cost. If I die while taking him down with me, I’ll be glad.

But before I get my revenge, I have to save Bogna. As long as she lives, there’s time. There’s still a chance.

I elbow Woland in the gut, putting the force of my fury into the blow. But it’s useless. His stomach feels like it’s made of stone. A sharp pain shoots up from my elbow while he doesn’t even flinch.

“Careful, you’ll hurt yourself,” is all he says, echoes of laughter in his voice.

I stop moving and pant in fury, watching as Przemyslaw rages, screaming at Bogna. He calls her a bitch, a whore, a rat, and a pig. Instead of running, she cowers, growing smaller and smaller with his every violent word.

But not all is lost. I take a deep, settling breath through my nose and stand still, letting Woland think I’ve surrendered. He rumbles in satisfaction, his chest vibrating at the back of my head. I swallow, watching Przemyslaw warily.

I know from what Bogna told me about his rages he’s almost there. He’ll start hitting her soon.

Closer to the fire, some couples stop fucking. They sit in the grass and watch the scene unfold, talking in hushed voices. Hope flickers in my chest, because surely, one of them will react. One of the young men will stand up and deal with Przemyslaw.

But then, I notice their expressions. Some snicker, some roll their eyes, and nobody looks concerned. I watch them in disbelief until it turns into a stone in my chest, the weight dragging me down.

No help from them. They’ve seen men raging at their wives in public before. They’ve learned it’s normal.

I sag against Woland, fighting the helplessness that threatens to engulf me. There must be something I can do. There must.

A terrified sob shakes Bogna’s frame, and Przemyslaw stops shouting, his face changing into a focused mask of hate. He takes a steady step toward her, then another. My heart stops and then launches into a terrified gallop.

It’s now or never.

I bite Woland’s palm with all my might. He curses and shakes his hand free.

“RUN!” I scream.

Przemyslaw and Bogna look at me. For a moment, we’re all suspended in an odd triangle, with me and Woland at one point and each of them at the other two. The moment stretches, and then Bogna sobs in relief and runs.

She runs toward me.

I want to tell her to turn back because she’ll be trapped in the circle. I want to scream she should run away somewhere Przemyslaw won’t find her, but Woland’s hand is over my mouth again, his chest shaking with laughter.

“This is even better,” he hisses a second before Bogna runs into me.

But no. She doesn’t. By all means, she should run right into us both, but as soon as she reaches the invisible boundary of the circle, she slams into it and bounces back, landing in the grass. Woland lets go of my mouth just in time for my anguished scream to tear free.

And yet, even as I scream out my helplessness and terror, I still hear his voice.

“You told me to do my worst, so watch.”

And then, Przemyslaw drags Bogna up by the hair, his face turned demonic with mindless rage. She screams from pain, and he throws her to the ground. Before she even moves, he’s on her, straddling her hips.

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