Page 10 of Deception

Another step, and I inch closer, avoiding his peripheral vision.

My eyes never stray from his broad shoulders. My sight zeroes in on the base of his skull,and I suck in a quiet breath, filling my burning lungs with the scent of sweet sap and musty earth.

When I was little, I used to love croquet. Hitting the ball with the right force and in just the right place so that it follows through the desired trajectory. Hitting the peg at the end. I was good at that. And that is what I imagine as I pull back and lift the stick.

I imagine the line of his collar as the lines my grandfather taught me to focus on when I took that final winning hit.

Releasing the air from my lungs in a whoosh, I leverage all my strength into this one strike. It happens so fast. One minute he’s focused on the rope, and the next he’s grasping the stick and spinning, turning me with him so that my back wallops into the tree at the same time as a loud shot rings through the air.

“Fuck,” he barks, hands grasping my shoulders before he pins me to the trunk with his body.

Ice chases all the warmth in my blood down through my body to my feet and into the ground. The echoes of the gunshot reverberate in my head as the stick falls to the ground beside me and Tomasz continues to press me into the tree. His body weight is suffocating. He’s so solid that I’m completely grounded by our proximity.

The gravel of his groans and the warmth of his breaths splaying over my skin make me shiver. I keep waiting for the pain. When it doesn’t come, I keep waiting for him to lift away from me. And when that doesn’t happen, I realise he took the shot.

No.

No, no, no… No!

“This isn’t how it goes.” I try to push him away, but he tightens his hold on me.

He doesn’t get to save me right now, and he certainly doesn’t get to die by any other hand than mine.

The more I fight, the harder his breaths become. The heat of his body is impossible to ignore as it seeps deep, thawing the ice.

“Fuck!” Tomasz bites out in my ear.

The sound is a vicious hiss that needles over me as he pulls back and spears me with the rage cutting through the steel blue of his eyes. Releasing one of my shoulders, he looks down at his side, where his torn shirt is turning red. The stain grows as he flattens his hand to the seeping wound.

The commotion that follows is nothing but peripheral noise. I’m ensnared by his stare, its hold impossible to break. For this one moment, I could be his pet because I’m tethered to him in a way that makes everything around us fade. All I can feel is his hatred and his need to break me. I feel it consume me as it wafts the flames of my anger and bloodthirst higher and higher, until every cell of my being is vibrating in his bloodied grasp.

The dark lengths of his hair fall in front of his eyes, and with an almost imperceptible nod, he takes a step back, never taking his stare away from me as he orders his men, “Truss her up.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” One of the three men stops at his side, bowing with every word.

It’s pointless because we all know he’s a dead man walking. He shot his boss, and if it were me, I would’ve disposed of him already. I would’ve put bullets through every limb before putting him out of his misery.

“I was protecting you.”

Ignoring the guard begging him for forgiveness, he watches as the other two finish the job he started. His gaze flits between mine and the stain his blood has left on my dress and skin while I’m bound to the branch, hung from my wrists like laundry on a line.

My toes barely graze the ground as the guards stand back, their backs to me as Tomasz continues studying me while my body protests at the magnetic pull of the earth beneath me. Gravity is a bitch, and as if he commands it with his gaze, it tugs harder at my body until my shoulders are screaming, the burn yelling in my ears while my vision fuzzes around the edges.

Taking the gun holstered on one guard, he licks his lips while pulling back the slider so that the chamber is loaded.

“When a dog oversteps,” he breathes as though he’s grown bored with the theatrics and lessons, “you cull it.”

No sooner has he spoken than he shoots the man still bowing his sorry to him. Handing the guard his gun back, Tomasz turns and walks away.

The sun is disappearing behind the sprawling house, leaving darkness in its wake. A bleakness that he disappears into, followed by his men.

I’m not sure how long it takes for the night to settle, but my body numbs in the stillness. Then I hear it, the howl of the wolves that splinters through the bawl of my muscles and ligaments.

Faint padding draws closer. Growly panting fills the air. Then I see them. Amber orbs glowing in the moonlight. The creature stops in front of me, bearing down on its hind legs as another howl erupts from it.

“S-s-shhhh…” I murmur at it like my mum used to murmur at my baby sister when she was unsettled.

It looks up at me with its silvered coat glinting in the muted light, tipping its head to the side as though it’s sizing me up. For a brief instant, I believe it is going to walk away…until I feel the wet press of another’s nose to the back of my leg as it sniffs my skin, its long coat bristling the inside of my calves as it licks higher.

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