Page 165 of Degradation
“What?”
“I’m the only person capable of getting in and out of Oblivion without getting caught.”
“When you two have quite finished.” Antonio snaps, bringing our attention back to him.
“Oblivion.” I repeat. “Magnus wants a face-to-face, then that’s where it will be.”
Antonio gives a curt nod. “As you wish.” He says, in such a tone I want to punch him.
But instead, I tighten my hold of Paitlyn’s hand and lead her out past all those waiting men. I know they won’t do shit now I’ve played my trump card and there’s a part of me that wants to prove it, wants to rub it in their faces.
Because I have the power here. Me.
We may be negotiating a truce, but it not from a position of weakness.
Pailtyn
The wind is absolutely freezing. I huddle into Devin, using his body warmth to try to stop me from shivering, not that it does any good.
We didn’t go back to the bedsit, we’re somewhere else entirely.
I can hear the sounds of twigs snapping, I can feel them under the soles of my boots as I take each step. All around are the sounds of rustling leaves. It feels like we’re in a forest, in the middle of nowhere.
Maybe I’m imagining it, but Devin seems nervous, excited even. He feels like a psycho puppy about to go off on a rampage.
My boots find the flat, hardness of a flagstone, I realise I’m now on a path.
“Small step up.” Devin murmurs.
I raise my foot, cautiously bringing it down a few inches higher than where I thought the ground was. As my second foot follows, I realise we’re in a building now. Somewhere spacious, somewhere hollow, almost devoid of life.
“Where are we?” I murmur.
It feels haunting, creepy even.
“A church.” Devin replies.
A church? I raise an eyebrow, what the fuck are we doing in a church?
“A Brethren church.” He adds, and that puts the fear of God into me.
I swear I can hear them, the rustle of robes, the heavy breathing, all of it. I could be surrounded right now, trapped by a dozen masked men, all determined to bring me down, to make me pay.
I can’t hide the whimper, I can’t keep the panic inside, and I stumble back, though Devin is quick to catch me before I can go anywhere. Before I can escape.
“Did you think I was lying when I said I wanted to make you my wife?” He asks.
I freeze, wondering if I’d heard him correctly. Surely not? “I thought…” My cheeks burn with shame as I speak the last of what feels like a confession. “I thought you were handing me over to them.”
His whole body seems to shift. “You thought I was giving you up?” He snarls. “You thought I’d betray you so easily?”
“Everyone else has.” I state.
His hand cups my cheek, his touch is so soft, so gentle. “They’d have to prise you out of my dead rotting hands.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. It comes out like a half-choked sob. “That is not romantic.” I murmur.
“It’s as romantic as I get.”
