Page 88 of Stitches

I paused my run, listening.

A twig snapping.

Rustling.

I turned abruptly around and ran full tilt ahead. I let my instincts guide me. And there he was. Crouched behind a fallen log, peering out in the wrong direction.

I crept up to him and carefully sat on the log, waiting for him to notice me. He stayed crouched for a long time, his rabbit ears making me smile, before he slowly rose to his feet and turned to face me.

A smile cut upward on what I could see of his face.

“Look at you, quiet as a ghost. You’d make a good assassin…ghost.Just as silent as the grave.” He moved closer to me until he was situated between my legs. My heart beat hard at his nearness that I knew was so damn wrong.

“I could train you,” he said, cocking his head at me. “If you wanted me to.”

I bit my bottom lip, making him smile a little more.

“I don’t think I’d like to see the blood on your hands though, but if it’s what you wanted, I’d do it so you could take out the monsters who have hurt you.” He held his hand out to me, and I slid my palm against his, letting my fingers trace the scars on his wrists.

A gasp of pain left my lips as he twisted my wrist quickly, bringing me to my knees.

Just as fast as he did it, he released me.

I stared up at him, confused.

“Let me teach you this,” he said. “So you can be safe when we aren’t there.” He offered me his hand again. “Trust me.”

I was desperate to trust him, so I gave him my hand again, and he helped me to my feet.

And then he showed me how to do what he’d done to my wrist. It was quick and easy. A simple twist and lots of pressure.

“There you go. Fast. Faster.” He knocked my hand away. “Come on. You can do this.”

I secured his hand and did the move on him, bringing him to his knees. He let out a hiss and stared up at me as I held his wrist in the painful pinned position he couldn’t wiggle from.

“Release,” he hissed out.

But I didn’t. I continued to stare down at him.

“Sirena,” he gasped. “Let go.”

My bottom lip trembled as we locked eyes.

“I’ll never harm you,” he said, breathlessly. “Ever. Stop thinking I will. I’m not them. I’m not any of them. And I’m certainly nothim.Release me. You’re hurting me.”

I blinked rapidly and let him go, sickened by the desire to cause pain.

I backed away from him, my heart in my throat.

“Don’t run,” he said in a soft, commanding voice. “Not from me. Never from me.”

I stopped my retreat and let him advance on me. He hauled me against his hard body and held me tightly.

“It’s OK to be angry at me. I’m angry at me too, but I promise I’m not your enemy.” He kissed the top of my head fiercely. “It’s OK.”

When he released me, he looked to the night sky.

“You need to get back to your room. He’s coming for you. He’ll be mad if you aren’t there.” He offered me his hand, and I took it without hesitation, making him smile.

---