Page 15 of Dangerous Beginnings

I turn around, breaking rule number one; never turn back around after making a decision. My eyes meet hers, but they are losing focus. I don’t look away. She doesn’t beg me; she doesn’t do anything. She buries her face in her hands, curled up into a ball on the floor. It starts smelling like gasoline and it won’t be long before this place is on fire. I watch her, waiting for the familiar desperation to claw its way out, for the begging, the pleas. But none of it comes. Instead, her voice cracks, barely audible, but the words hit me like a hammer. “I didn’t…” She struggles to force the words out, each one coming with an effort like it hurts her to speak. “I didn’t mean to…”

Another pause, long and agonizing, as if her mind is trying to cling to whatever clarity is left. “I was…just...” Her breath catches, a choked sob, “…scared.”

My eye twitches at the emotions inside of me. Her last question comes out in a mere whisper; “am I going to die?”

I try to shake it off, to remind myself of the task at hand. But something about her plea digs in deeper, like a splinter beneath the skin. It’s not pity or guilt—it’s something far more dangerous. A crack in the ice, a shift in the dark. I stand there, caught in the gravity of a choice I thought I’d already made, as her words echo in the stillness, daring me to reconsider.

The fire will eat her alive if I leave. And yet, my feet are frozen. I usually enjoy the sound of desperate begging, but she gives me none.

‘So far, you haven’t shown you can follow orders very well, have you?’

She tries to lift her head, but it barely moves, her eyelids fluttering as she struggles to stay conscious. Her lips part, but the words come out in broken fragments, not audible anymore.

It’s a split-second decision; before rationalism comes, my body moves for me.

The cold wraps around me like a blanket when I take my jacket off. I roam around in my bag as I throw it on the floor, grabbing a pair of handcuffs in one hand and in the other my jacket. The exact pair of cuffs I have been wearing for multiple days in a row. I wanted to bring them and destroy them; they’re specially made forpeople like me. Extra security, extra strong, and all that other bullshit. I feel her pulse and it is low, extremely low. She is in a state of hypothermia. Knowing confusion is a sign of hypothermia, I start talking to her; “Pogovori so mnoy, Isabella. Kakogo tsveta moi glaza?’Talk to me Isabella, what color are my eyes?

She shivers against me, “English please.” A sign of relief fillsmy breathing, she is coherent.

I pull her up in a sitting position with her back towards me. If I look at her any longer, I might feel an inch of guilt for her too.

My heart isn’t into taunting her. I tell myself not to look at her much longer than needed. I reach over for her hands and pull them through the cuffs, easily. No struggle at all. She wouldn’t be able to struggle, but she doesn’t even try. I secure them around her wrist and throw my jacket over her, zipping it close at the front. I make sure to be quick before the flames reach this part of the building. I grab my bag and throw it over my shoulder. I turn around and face her. She is staring at me. Something in her eyes I thought I would never see when someone looked at me.

Hope.

Poor girl, what have you done?

Chapter 9

Experience Teaches

Diable

Once she is secure in the car I start the engine. What the fuck am I doing? I take my mask off. There is no need for that, she knows what I look like. Little does she know who I am, but once she realizes she knows the face behind the stories. That makes her a loose end.

Her eyes pierce on mine and all I can do is stare back at her fucking face. Hope needs to be killed. I don’t give hope, I only give despair.

“I might have saved you from burning like the rest but know that I can just as easily take your life away. Don’t test me,da?” The words come out in a menacing tone, low and dark. She barely knows anything, and yet she knows too much. Her pale face stares back at me. She nods as best as she can in her situation, with no hope. Just fear.

I drive. The familiarity of my Porsche brings me no joy. I don’t know where I am headed—just far away from here. I have not figured out what to do with her yet. I cannot bring her anywhere with me. I don’t want anyone to see I let her fucking live.

I need to get rid of her, but where? And how?

Her tiny body falls and rises next to me. She is falling asleep, but she fights against it. I don’t blame her. Sleeping next to a monster is never a good idea.

My hands grip the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles turn white. Her trying not to fall asleep has already taken half an hour now. After all, there seems to be a little fighter in her. She is scared I’m going to do something to her while she sleeps. ButI will not if I was going to do something to her, I would look her in the eyes. I am not a coward.

She rubs her eyes with both hands, still cuffed. Comic how the tables have turned. So innocent. So innocent I might scratch her along the way. The very tired girl next to me almost makes me laugh. A small smile, but it is a smile. Again, her head falls and rises just as fast. Her tired eyes burn into the side of my face. I can feel her stare at the roses and thorns rising on my neck. With every minute she is next to me she knows more.

“You realize you’re destroying any chance you had of me ever letting you go.” She turns her face away from mine. But she knows it too, it is too late. She knows too much and has seen too much. I sigh, “Give into your sleep.”

Silence hangs heavy in the car. A dark, hollow laugh slips from my lips, the sound chilling. “Just tonight,” I add. It is a half-truth, a deceit wrapped in the guise of reassurance. I don’t want her to crumble, not yet, not before we reach our destination—which is going to be anything but pleasant.

After all, promises are nothing more than the sweetest lies, crafted to lull and betray.

Chapter 10

Into the Abyss

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