Page 43 of Savage Warrior

I remove the T-shirt I’ve been wearing for the last couple of days and pull on my own clothes. I managed to wash them, sort of, using washing-up liquid in the tiny sink. They’ll have to do, but I have no coat, and it’s still snowy outside. I wonder if ?tefan has anything I could borrow.

I’m still pondering that thought when the door opens and he stomps in, kicking snow from his booted feet. He dumps an armful of logs beside the fire.

“You’re awake, then.” He actually smiles at me. “And dressed, I see. Going somewhere?”

“I will leave,” I reply. “I realise I cannot stay. Not now, not after…”

He shrugs out of his thick anorak. “Where are you going?”

“I will try to find an airport. I told you. Maybe if I explain to them why I have no passport…”

“Good luck with that.”

“There must be airports in Scotland…”

“You need to head to Manchester. They do direct flights to Minsk.”

Ah, yes. Manchester. We passed signs for Manchester in the van, on the way here. “How far away is that?”

He considers for a moment. “About three hundred and fifty, maybe four hundred miles.”

I slump onto a chair. “Oh.” Defeat stares me in the face, and I haven’t even started my journey yet. “How about if I—?”

“I have a better idea.”

I wait for him to enlighten me. Maybe he’ll give me a lift to the closest road, and I can hitch from there.

“Let’s go to Inverness instead,” he suggests brightly.

My jaw drops. “Inverness?”

“Yup. The snow thawed overnight. The roads are sloppy but passable. I reckon we could make it there and back in a day.”

I shake my head, incredulous. “You still mean to take me?”

He kicks off his boots and flops onto the bed. “I said I would, as soon as the weather improved.”

“But yesterday…”

He meets my gaze. “What about yesterday?”

Is he deluded? “After what happened,” I clarify.

“You mean after you stole my gun and tried to hijack my vehicle? After you threatened to kill me if I didn’t do as you said?”

I tip up my chin. Defiance rears its head. “Can you blame me?”

He tilts his chin to one side. “Well, yes. I reckon I can. But I’m not a man to bear a grudge. It’s over, you paid for it, learned a valuable lesson, I hope. Now we’re even. Do you want to come with me to Inverness or not?”

“Even? How can you say that? You battered me almost senseless.”

He sits up, his expression hardening. “Hardly. You screwed up so you were punished. But you’ve lived to tell the tale.”

“Screwed up?” My voice rises in indignation, despite my better judgement. I know now that this man is dangerous, and I really should keep my opinions to myself if I want to avoid further displays of that. Somehow, I can’t help myself. “I was worried about my family. I did what I had to do.”

“You said you were sorry. Or was I mistaken about that? Do you need another spanking to help clarify matters?”

I back away and consider bolting for the door. Would he even come after me this time?

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