Page 20 of Taunting Tarran
Panic floods my body as I realise there’s a man in the backseat. My eyes dart to the rear-view mirror, and I catch a glimpse of his cold, merciless black eyes staring back at me.
‘Turn off the car, Tarran. Stay quiet and follow my instructions, if you can.’ His last words drip with icy sarcasm, andwe fall into silence as I twist the key, turning off the ignition.
‘Good,’ he says. ‘Now, I’m going to come and get you out. Understand?’
I nod. As he exits the car, I notice he’s dressed in a black suit, the rain soaking its dark fabric. He adjusts his jacket, puffing out his chiselled chest, and then opens the car door. His hand is open-palmed waiting for me to take it.
‘What do you want with me?’ I demand, my voice trembling. He doesn’t answer; instead he nods towards his hand. A sinful smirk spreads across his face, and I yelp as he snatches my wrist and yanks me out of the car towards my front door. The wind lifts his jacket, revealing a black pistol.
‘You’re hurting me,’ I protest, my voice shaking. He turns and steps towards me, his presence overwhelming. I try to step back, but his grip tightens, immobilising me once again with a cold, dead stare.
‘Pain? Oh, sweetheart, pain is just a side effect. I thought you enjoyed that sort of thing. If that’s the case, we will get along just fine.’
‘No...You have me all wrong,’ I say, struggling from his grip.
‘Really? So you weren’t at my club to be treated like a common whore?’
‘NO! Look, you’re giving me pressure cooker vibes,’ I swallow. ‘How about we just resolve this misunderstanding over a cup of tea? Tea is good for the soul,’ I smile.
When he lets his guard down, I’ll knee caphim.
He stills, and yanks me harder towards him.
Determined not to show him any fear I glare at him. ‘I’ll fight you,’ I growl.
His face turns to the side and his grin widens. ‘I’m banking on it.’
For the first time in years, I’m speechless, and I struggle to catch my breath as we enter the house. I had foolishly left it open in my haste to escape. He thrusts me towards the kitchen counter, and before I can process what’s happening, my hand is pulling out a six-inch knife from the block. To my horror, he steps back, drawing his gun and placing it on the island that now separates us. His eyes flicker from the gun to mine, and his lips curl into a sinister smile.
‘Looks like we’ve got ourselves a Mexican standoff, isn’t this fun? You’re so beautiful; it hides a darkness I can’t wait to uncover.’
‘Go to Hell!’ I scowl, wielding the knife.
He stands, running his finger along the island’s surface, and pushes his chest into the tip of the knife.
‘I would, but Satan still has a restraining order against me.’
He flashes me a feral grin, his hand lowering the knife from his chest. ‘So, you’re stuck with me!’
My mind races to make sense of the situation, a mix of fear and exhilaration, and the rush of facing fear head-on. He just stands there, staring into my eyes, his presence menacing and ominous. Suddenly, my phone rings, its sound piercing through the tense silence. My heart skips a beat as I glare at it, leaningcloser. But before I can answer, his cold, menacing voice cuts through the air, ‘Ignore it. No one interrupts me.’
His command sends a fresh wave of fear, but I hold composure. The phone continues to ring, but his gaze holds me captive.
‘You’re a tough cookie to crack, but don’t worry. I enjoy breaking the tough ones. It’s going to be fun watching you crumble.’
‘It was you, wasn’t it? You sent me those teeth! Oh God, help me,’ I gasp.
‘God works for me. Every prayer, every plea – it all comes to me first. So, be careful what you wish for.’
‘Whose teeth were they? You know, don’t answer that!’
‘I think you already know the answer, Tarran.’
‘Is he dead? People are going to be looking for him.’
‘I’m not afraid of some low-level criminals. And if you think I am, then I’ve not made myself clear.’
He leans in, pushing my back against the counter, his hands trapping me on either side. I’m terrified, pinned by his overwhelming presence.
