I made my way through the parking lot, arming myself with caution.
I needed to find it and fast. My fist curled protectively around the amulet I'd guarded with my life for the past few months. It was the only proof of my existence, the clue to my whereabouts, and the key to my freedom.
An unsettling sense of dread clung to me like a second skin. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my heartbeat thundered in my ears like a war drum.
I quickened my pace, eyes wild, scanning the expanse of scattered vehicles. I need to find it, I reminded myself again and again. And for a moment I did there it was, tucked away in the far right corner of the lot. A fleeting wave of relief washed over me… but it evaporated just as quickly as it came.
As I rounded the corner, I slammed into what felt like a brick wall except it wasn't. In the next instant, a hand clamped over my mouth. I felt the sharp sting of a needle piercing my skin, and it didn't take long to realize I was being kidnapped.
My body kicked into autopilot. My hand shot up in a desperate bid to stop the assailant from injecting me with whatever sedative he was using. My heel drove mercilessly into his groin. I heard him grunt as the syringe clattered to the ground half its contents already swimming through my bloodstream.
But I didn't wait.
I ran.
I sprinted toward the elevator. The distant opera music echoed through the halls loud and masking the chaos down here.
No one would hear me.
No one was coming to save me.
I had to save myself.
His boots pounded behind me, footsteps a relentless echo in the hollow space. He wasn't backing down.
I felt the searing pull on my scalp as he yanked me back by my hair and slammed the side of my head against a car window. Glass shattered.
A hot trail of blood trickled down my temple.
Instinct took over.
My hand shot to my tangled hair.
In a frantic motion, I ripped the brooch from my messy bun. Whirling around, I plunged it straight into his eye. A guttural scream ripped from his throat as he released me, and without wasting a breath, I bolted.
I knew, from the sound of his rage filled groan, that this was no longer a well paying job for him , it was a revenge mission, one that would end with my motionless body on the cold concrete.
I rounded the same corner I had come from, legs burning as I reached the elevator.
But hope had already withered inside me.
I could feel him behind me, could feel his murderous intent, my body trembled from the sheer force of it.
I closed my eyes, bracing for the pain and It came fast.
The first punch struck my chest. I heard the crack of a rib giving way. I tried to shield myself, but I was too slow. The second blow landed in my abdomen, and I fought against the urge to throw up my guts.
And then, came the worst.
He grabbed me by the throat, slamming me against the concrete wall once… twice… thrice. My skull rang with each brutal impact. A blinding, hot white pain exploded through my spine and radiated through every nerve ending.
His grip on my neck tightened, choking off my airflow. My body started to give in.
I felt myself slipping dangling in the air, limbs spasming, then slowly numbing. Tears blurred my vision.
This is it.
I was going to die.
Alone.
Far from the people I loved.
Far from those I had risked everything to reunite with.
Suddenly, the weight around my neck vanished. I crashed to the floor with a dull thud. My hands shot up to my bruised throat as I gasped for air, desperate to breathe again. Disoriented and half conscious, I could barely comprehend the sounds of struggle echoing nearby.
Through the haze, I saw them again. Those piercing, icy blue eyes. For a moment, it felt like I was back in that dark alley frozen in the horror, protected and terrified all at once.
The gun lay on the floor beside me. I scrambled for it. My vision flickered between memory and present danger.
The same blue eyes.
The same shadow shielding me.
I didn't realize what I had done until the shot rang out. The echo shattered the silence instantly sobering me up.
My vision cleared and I shot to my feet, not caring about the searing pain clawing its way through my body. I stared in stunned disbelief at what I have done. The gun slipped from my hand and clattered to the ground.
Silence reigned.
I caught my reflection in the broken window of a nearby car. My once neat updo was in ruins, curls matted with dried blood, my blood. My dolled-up face somehow still intact beneath the tears and grime. My blue velvet dress was soaked in crimson, shards of glass embedded in the fabric, slicing into my skin. I looked like hell, battered, broken, barely standing.
Red welts burned on my neck, tiny, bloody crescents where fingernails had clawed into my flesh. Yet I didn't care.
My gaze shifted to the man lying before me the one who'd inflicted every ounce of agony in the past two minutes. His eyes, once fierce, were now empty. Lifeless. His neck twisted at an unnatural angle.
That could've been me.
If not for him.
He stood across from me, a man, yet not a man, not really.
Because to me he was a devil in a god's skin. The devil who dragged me through the flames of hell and took the burns for me without a second thought.
He stood there, Impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, holstered gun gleaming at his hip, not a hair out of place, except for the bullet buried in his shoulder.
The bullet I put there.
I forced myself to meet his gaze. That perfectly sculpted face.
A sense of déjà vu struck me like a thousand bricks: a parking lot, a dead man, that signature gun, those black gloves… and those infuriatingly livid, crystal blue eyes.
He knew.
He'd figured it out.
Why I'd insisted on coming on this business trip.
Why I pushed for this specific show. And in that moment, I knew I had made a terrible mistake. One that would cost me dearly.
In a blink, he crossed the space between us. He took in my wrecked appearance. For the briefest second, I saw something flicker in his eyes concern? Pain? It didn't matter cause it was gone in a flash, replaced by an endless blue raging fire.
He slipped off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders with a kind of gentleness that made my throat tighten. I heard him murmur something just fragments but I caught enough to know he'd summoned his men to tend to my wounds and clean up the mess.
He lifted my chin and I stared at him, eyes glassy from the lump forming in my throat. He searched my face for answers, a lie, a truth, anything really. I wanted to give it to him, I wanted to speak. Lord! I wanted to cry and beg, but my lips parted and closed like a fish stranded on dry land.
He lingered for a moment, then I watched it happen, the indifference cloaking his features like armor. It was the mask he wore before every kill. He turned on his heel, gun now in hand, and strode toward the elevator.
I stood frozen for a heartbeat then panic struck. I dashed after him, but the elevator doors slammed shut in my face.
"No!" I screamed, pounding on the metal with bruised palms, helpless and broken.
Despair crushed me. I turned toward my last option, the stairs. I swallowed hard, kicked off my heels, and bolted up the steps, two, three at a time. Pain be damned. I would crawl if I had to.
My lungs screamed. Bile crept up my throat. My heart thundered in my ribs. But none of that mattered as I reached the top floor and sprinted toward the balcony.
I had to find him.
Had to stop him.
Before the shit hit the fan and someone ended up in a coffin the next day.
My eyes scanned the crowd frantically until, there. He stood at the far end, shoulder still bleeding, leaving a trail on the crimson carpet, gun raised, silencer in place, target locked.
He didn't care, not if he was seen, not if the whole damn world burned. Everyone else was too distracted by the show. I followed his line of sight and, God. No.
"No. No, no, no!" I choked on my scream. I can't let him pull that trigger.
As if sensing me, he turned his head. Our eyes met. In his gaze was a storm of rage, betrayal, pain so raw it shattered my soul. He understood my silent pleas.
But his grip on the trigger didn't falter.
I realized then: he was giving me an ultimatum disguised in a choice, reality is there was no room for a choice.
My body moved before my brain caught up. I ran straight for him, tackling him into a booth. He hit the seat as I straddled him, breath ragged.
His gun still in hand.
He didn't resist, just watched me with unnerving calm, reading me like an open book.
I could end it, kill him, be free.
I ripped the gun from his grip. He let me. In a heartbeat, I had it pointed at his heart.
summoning every drop of hatred I had for him.
Every ounce of fury. It should've been easy.
I loathed this man to the core! But some damned part of me knew I would rather cut myself down.
He wrapped his arm around my waist. His fingers steadied mine. I realized I was trembling. Hyperventilating. And he, he was comforting me. Helping me pull the trigger if that's what I needed.
In my hand, I held the ticket to his grave and he, he didn't care, because as long as he drew breath I will always belong to him. It was taunting, one shot would unlock the cage.
A sob tore from my chest as I dropped the gun like it was a viper, venomous and vile.
But the gasps wouldn't stop.
No matter how much air I dragged into my lungs, I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. And suddenly, my lips were on his. Fierce. Angry. Desperate. A kiss born of sorrow, fury and anguish.
I kissed him of my own accord.Tears spilled freely as it downed on me that I signed my freedom away.
He kissed me back with equal ferocity, arms pulling me tight against his chest.
The tenderness of his hold clashed violently with the hard press of his arousal.
I kissed him harder because I knew I'd end up in his bed tonight. Willingly. A silent agreement, sealing my fate away to fulfill my urge to protect, in exchange of my body and soul.
Then the pain returned.
I guess the adrenaline has ran it's corse.
I stiffened, the taste of metal filled my mouth, as I erupted into a fit of bloodied coughs.
He froze.
I watched his pupils dilate, face twisted in terror.
A crooked smile pulled at my lips.
Minutes ago, I had feared death.
Now... now, I welcomed it with grace.
A strange feeling of serenity engulfed me as his panicked voice reached me through the fog, desperate. But it was distant and muffled. My body went slack as I surrendered to the darkness, mind drifting to one last memory, the last night I had slept in peace.
The last night my mind wasn't plagued with bloodstained visions, or haunted by the weight of the cage I became so accustomed to. A time before the amulet became more than just a trinket. Before I knew what the devil's touch could feel like.