Page 67 of A Life Imagined
Fuck.
Marsela straddled his lap and reached down to pull a small knife from her heeled boot.She used it to slice through the tie restraining his right wrist.“You’d better be right-handed,” she said and crushed her mouth against his.
Despite the drug-induced euphoria, Mathias fought the immediate recoil.His head spun as the cloying scent of her perfume filled his nostrils.Through the haze, he became aware of the softness of her breasts pressed against his chest, her hand trailing down to the buckle of his belt.He pushed back against the demanding buck of her hips and returned the kiss with a leaden automation as he raised his hand to her neck and slid it beneath the silk scarf.She gave a mewling moan and thrust her tongue into his mouth, wet and probing.Mathias curled his fingers around the scarf and pulled taut.
Marsela’s head snapped back, and her hands scrabbled at her neck, gagging as Mathias held firm.She slipped from his lap to her knees before him, the blood rising to her face as her eyes bulged.Mathias waited, an almost hypnotic calm coming over him.He knew how long to hold until her eyes rolled back into her head—knew how easy it would be to wait her out, listen for the last ragged breath before the silence that followed.He was outside himself, watching his movements like a character on a screen.It was unfortunate that she hadn’t seen it—the darkness in him.She’d gravely underestimated his true nature.
Then, amid the addled mess inside his mind, an image arose from earlier that morning—Rayan splayed out in their bed, bathed in sunlight, the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.
…exactly as you are.
Mathias was no longer observing himself but was back in his body, and the strength in his fingers slackened.He released his grip, and Marsela fell backward onto the floor, coughing.He reached for the fallen knife with his free hand and cut through the remaining tie, his actions sluggish and clumsy.
Marsela lay on the floor, sucking in jagged breaths.She held one hand protectively over her throat as the blood slowly retreated from her face.He crouched and unknotted the scarf from her neck, seeing where the fabric had cut into her skin, then used it to tie her hands behind her back.A strangled sound escaped her mouth, but whatever she was trying to communicate was unintelligible.
He thought about the two lackeys waiting outside the door.She must have had a history of these kinds of encounters if the thumps and gasps that had accompanied their little scuffle hadn’t been concerning enough for the thugs to make an appearance.The noises had probably matched what they were expecting.
Mathias retrieved his gun from the table.It was clunky and unfamiliar in his hand.Another wave cascaded over his body, and it felt as though he’d been submerged in warm water.
“What the…?”His voice sounded different, not his own.
He’d come here with a plan, but the particulars had gotten lost in the swirl of sensation.His thoughts kept slipping as he tried to determine what to do next.He couldn’t just stroll through the front door.He’d had enough trouble with Marsela’s men while not doped out of his brain.He didn’t trust himself with a gun, let alone behind the wheel, and commandeering the car he’d arrived in was the only way out of this godforsaken place.His eyes traveled to Marsela on the floor.Her oxygen-deprived stupor wouldn’t last much longer.
As if to prove his point, she let out a hoarse laugh.“You’re a big man, Mr.Beauvais.I may have been a little liberal with the dose.”
Suddenly, there came a startled yelp from the entranceway followed by a flurry of thuds.Mathias heard a loud crack as something or someone struck the locked door.There was another crack, and the wood splintered, dislodging the handle.The door swung open, and Rayan appeared in the frame, his gun raised and his eyes dark with fury as he advanced into the room.
For a moment, Mathias wondered if he’d conjured him with his mind.He felt that powerful.He’d never doubted that Rayan would come for him.The idea that no one could be trusted—not even those whose job it was to care for him—had been instilled from a young age, but Rayan had proven, over and over, the exception to that rule.
For years the man had been chipping away at the barrier Mathias had built between himself and the world.Even when they were still only boss and subordinate, Rayan was the person he’d kept closest, granted access to the private workings of his life.After his resolve finally buckled, all Rayan had to do was press against the cracks he’d already made in Mathias’s defenses to send the walls crashing down.And Mathias had let him walk right through the opening he’d created.
He stared at Rayan and felt a churn of something both light and heavy.He owed him so much at this point.His life for one—all those times Rayan had stood between him and a bullet.Then there were the more perplexing things—the simple peace he felt upon waking, the absence of that cold core of loneliness he’d carried for so long he thought it was part of him.
“Took you long enough.”
“Consider your favor repaid,” Rayan returned stonily.His eyes darted to Mathias’s face, and his forehead furrowed in concern.
“Who is this?”Marsela asked, attempting to pick herself up from the floor.She began screeching at the men on the other side of the door, who were clearly incapacitated.
Rayan walked over to him.“Mathias?”
Mathias loved how he said his name and even more when he whispered it, his voice catching on the last syllable.What he wouldn’t fucking do for this man, and here he was, right in front of him.
Rayan’s frown deepened, and a grim recognition flickered across his face.Of course, for him, this was well-worn territory.“You’re high.”
This time when Mathias spoke, he wasn’t sure if the words made it past his lips or if they were swallowed by the roll of thoughts in his head.“That appears to be the case.”
Chapter
Twenty-Three
The tracking signal from Mathias’s phone had stopped dead at a large country house set back from the road several kilometers outside of Saint-Léonard.Rayan had decided against driving down the narrow lane that led to the house in case he was playing into an ambush.Instead, he pulled the car over to the side of the main road and continued on foot.
As Rayan walked, keeping to the grass on the edge of the lane, he removed his gun and flicked off the safety.This was where the little red dot had led him, but for all he knew, Mathias’s phone could have been dumped, and the man could be halfway across the country.
Focus.It was too early for worst-case scenarios.And if Rayan knew anything about Mathias, it was that he wouldn’t go down easy.
His breath sounded loud in his ears, and he worked to quieten it, channeling years of practice.He felt it again, the transformation into someone else, his senses heightened and his fear suppressed.One fact was certain—if something had happened to Mathias, Rayan would tear whoever he found to pieces.
