Page 58 of In the Cover of Darkness

“It was the screams,” he whispers, before Mila lets out another blood curdling scream, her breathing becoming laboured as she slumps forward where she's sitting, no longer moving.

Chapter 41 - Mila

The Dreamer - Amigo the Devil ?

"You stupid FUCKING BITCH,” he screams, "you thought you could run away from me! Escape me! And when I find you, I see you playing fucking house with a nobody soldier who couldn't even save you when it counts.'' The all too familiar sound of Trevor screaming greets me as I come back to consciousness again. I'm not sure how many times I've passed out at this point but he keeps cutting me with the dagger he's holding. My arms are covered in cuts and he likes to stick the dagger in my side until I scream. I learned a long time ago that he likes it when I cry or scream. He liked the control of it all. He basically just confirmed it when he was on the phone to Dante, before he stuck the dagger in too far again and I passed out.

At this point, he hasn't punctured my lungs because I can still breathe fine, but I don't know if he's nicked any other vital organs and I'm slowly bleeding out internally. I've never been so glad to have a bit of extra padding around my waist than I am right now. I'm hoping he hasn't gone past an inch or two becauseI'm not sure how long you have to live depending on what organ has been punctured or damaged.

Looking up, I don't want to bring too much attention to myself in case he stabs me again but I do know I've still got my switchblade in my bra. For as smart as Trevor thinks he is, the idiot tied my hands in front of me. I thank all of the gods I can think of that I can still access it.

“Do you have any idea how bad you made me look! How peoplequestionedthat I didn't know where you were. Wheremyfucking property was,” he continues to yell.

He's pacing about ten feet in front of me, arms flailing, spit flying as he talks. There's a small flashlight on the ground illuminating him as he walks, but I'm thankfully in a patch of shadow, hopefully, covered in enough darkness for him not to notice that I'm awake.

Luck however is not on my side, and he rushes in close to me, closing the small distance between us.

Kneeling just to the side of me, his breathing is erratic and his face is almost flush with my cheek he cut earlier. I wish there was a breeze to blow the smell of him away. His rancid stink mixed with the hint of metallic from my blood is nausea inducing. I try to turn my head away from him but he grabs my face, forcing it to remain in place as he breathes heavily, watching me.

“It's been 137 days since we were last together,” he spits at me, “did you know that bitch. 137 days of us being apart, and did you know that I knew where you were for most of them.”

What? He knew where I was? Then why has it taken so long to haunt me, to ruin my life all over again.

“I got a handy little letter in the mail from Woodman Medical Centre that let me right to you. You’re so fucking dumb you didn’t even think to check what information they had on file.Don't get me started on that stupid mechanic. It was so fucking easy getting your new phone number when he left it lying around. Like taking candy from a fucking baby. I'm still hurt that you never messaged me back.” he says, making a dramatic sad face, his bottom lip pouting. “No one likes being left onread,but you were probably too busy being a whore to that dumb soldier. Never again though. We’ve been apart 137 days, so now I’m going to make sure you remember each and every one of them, so you know … if you, EVER FUCKING DO IT AGAIN,” he screams in my ear, a high pitch ringing sound replacing his heaving breathing, “I’ll punish you, and it won’t be a tally of the days we’ve been apart.”

Releasing my face, he grabs the flashlight lying next to me and shines it on my arm that was only moments before cast in shadow, illuminating a row of bloody tally marks going up to my shoulder. Four cut marks with a line slashed through them are repeated over and over,

“No,” I gasp.

He's trying to mark me, to literally count the 137 days that we were apart.

“It's beautiful isn't it,” he groans, as he takes his hand and rubs it over the cuts he's already made, reopening any dried patches of blood. It feels like I've rolled in a prickle bush because my arm is stinging so much, as he continues to smear the fresh blood around. Placing the flashlight back on the ground he moves near my shoulder, grabs his dagger and starts to giggle. He's officially unhinged, completely lost his mind and I need to find a way out of this. I'm not going to sit idly like I used to. Dante has taught me so much and I need to escape, not just for me but for everything we promised each other. Trevor is not taking another damn day away from me.

I try not to hiss as I feel a sharp sting on my shoulder. I don't know if I'm exhausted, if he's drugged me, or if these moments of dizziness are from how hard he hit my head. Who am I kidding, it's probably a combination of all three.

His giggles stop in favour of him counting, “Seventy-three,” another sharp sting, "seventy-four", another sharp sting, "seventy-five. Seventy-five days for you to remember how bad you were, how you abused my love for you. Seventy-five days ofowingme.” He grits out the last few words and I feel a warm gentle sensation across my shoulder, soft moans coming from him as I realise he's licking the cuts he's just made. Suddenly he's grabbing my face again and it feels like my neck is going to snap at the position he's twisting it in. I swear he's frothing at the mouth with how angry he's become, spit flying in my face as he screams at me but I'm unable to make out the words he is saying. It's taking everything in me to act like I'm frozen in fear, like I'm submitting to his will, that is until I hear a bark in the distance and a drop of hope blooms in my chest.

One of the dogs is free. One of my beautiful, caring, possessive, protective, ex mother fucking military dogs is free and is coming for me. My saviour, my hero, my beautiful fluff balls. Whichever one it is they will both be getting steak for every dinner from now on.

I realise now where I am. With Trevor distracted I can finally take in my surroundings and can see the house in the far distance, the small glow of the few lights I had turned on. The barks are getting louder and Trevor takes several steps away from me, tilting his ear to the sky as if it will allow him to hear better. Taking a second to look again, I'm tied to a fence post, the small barbs in the wire digging into my back. As the barks get louder still, I make the decision to try and sneak myswitchblade out. Hopefully, I can cut the rope around my hands and waist. The soft pounding of feet thump into the ground as Attila suddenly comes into view. He must have dug under the kennel fence or climbed over it somehow. He has become my unlikely knight in shining armour and I've never seen a sight more beautiful than what's unfolding before me. Trevor screams as Attila leaps into the air knocking him to the ground with a thud, before he latches on to his neck, shaking his head viciously. Attila's growls bring me comfort as I see them scuffle on the hard earth. Trevor is clawing and trying to call out, but the more Attila shakes his head, the fewer sounds Trevor is making. This is it, it has to be. The end of my tormentor is here and I have front row seats as he gets sucked into whatever hell hole awaits him in his next life.

My plan is harder than I thought it would be and the awkward angle my hands are tied makes it difficult to get into my dress. I thank the gods again that I wore something with buttons. I'm able to slip my fingers into the small gaps between the buttons, finally being able to pop my switchblade open. Making a start on the rope that ties my wrists together, it's so tight and I'm shaking so much, it feels like every time I drag the knife over the rope, it cuts into my skin, the blood making everything slick.

The loud yelp of Attila brings my focus back to the struggle happening in front of me. No, no, no, “Attila! I'm coming. Hang in there.'' I yell out, before another loud yelp echoes across the meadow, the sound of strained wining breaking the night air. “ATTILA!” I hear myself screaming over and over as Trevor pushes him off his chest, a bloody trail flowing from his neck as he moves to stand up.

Finally, I cut through the rope. Trevor is several feet in front of me clasping onto his neck where Attila had him in a hold. I thinkhe's trying to talk but he's only making gurgled unintelligible sounds. Attila must have done some damage because he looks a lot weaker than he was a moment ago, the blood pulsing through his hands as it leaves his neck, making a red river that spreads across his chest and down his body. I can still see the hate in his eyes consuming him, motivating him as he edges closer toward me.

Trying to gather any aspect of what Dante taught me is useless. Adrenalin is racing through me and I'm shaking so hard I'm scared I'm going to drop my switchblade. Almost all of my focus is going into not dropping it, so I revert to Dante's most basic lesson. Stick the pointy end in the bad guy.

“It's over Trevor. This is over. No more,” I direct at him as he stumbles toward me still. The gurgles heard every time he tries to talk. I'm thankful that he can't speak right now as his words always cut so deep, wearing me down every time he spoke.

“Stay away from me,” I state, as we circle each other.

I can see he's losing too much blood, he's practically covered in it now, stumbling and waving his free arm toward me. I can't believe he has put me in this situation again, that I have to choose to survive …again. Well, he's not going to be the one that gets to end this. I'm in control now and I'm ending it permanently.

Taking a tentative step toward him, I'm bracing myself for any last ditch effort he might make. A sudden leap out to try and attack me, or some other way he might throw me off guard; but his movements have slowed and he's almost stationary, swaying in the place he's standing. Taking another step closer we lock eyes as I see his determination start to waver, panic flickering across his face.

Another step closer and he drops the hand that was holding his neck. I quickly flick my gaze across it and can see a large chunk is missing. Attila must have bitten right through. What a good fucking boy he is. There's blood everywhere and his gurgles are slowing. I don't know what's happening to him but it doesn't look good. How can he even breathe right now? One thing is for sure, I can see there's no coming back from this for him.

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