Chapter 4
4
LUCY
A sneer tips up one side of Tomasz’s face as he pulls back and nods. As he rounds me, the flat of his hand follows the circumference of my waist. He doesn’t touch me, but the heat of his flesh rakes through my body.
I hate it even though the closeness sparks hope through me. The closer he stays, the more opportunity there is to follow through on the order they sent me to him with.
Pausing at my side, he fists my hair, wrapping the length around his hand before he tugs harshly. Nudging the back of my knee with his, folding me onto my knees. Without even a silent warning, he pulls me towards the door by my hair.
“Good, bitch,” he spits as I crawl after him, trying to avoid any more injuries or damage that could debilitate me in the long run.
Opportunity is my friend, and I intend to take it when it’s offered to me. Even if it means I crawl on my hands and knees right now.
When we get to the sweeping staircase, he yanks me back up onto my feet. My ankles crick slightly in the insanely tall heels on my feet. He doesn’t give me time to find my balance as he carries on down each step, pulling me behind him as though he’s walking a disobedient dog.
“Lick your lips,” he grunts as we reach the bottom of the steps, allowing the staff to get a good look at me—the new pet.
Ignoring his order, I stand tall and meet every single gaze. The raging pound of my heart is deafening as I look around for the closest escape. There are so many doors and windows that it should be easy to get away, except one of the many goons that patrols this place mans every exit.
I’ve walked royal palace halls and corridors that had less security than this house. It doesn’t matter where I look, there are eyes staring right back at me. At least the staff look wary enough to suggest they’re afraid I’ll bite them like I bit him.
Again, he nudges and tugs me onto my knees. The sudden momentum pushes the air from my lungs as I hit the stone floor, making me hack spit from my mouth. A grin cuts his face as he watches it drool down my chin, waiting for me to lick it off my lips.
I don’t.
I won’t.
Never , I promise silently as I hold his stare. Ever.
“Okay,” he laughs before continuing across the entry hall.
Tall windows let in the last rays of sun. The light has that peachy glow that tinges everything with warmth, even though I’m as cold as this stoic place.
He walks faster than I can crawl to keep up with him. Even when I collapse on my front, my chin hitting the floor before I fall on my face, he carries on.
“When a dog misbehaves,” Tomasz states, as he walks me out of a side door, dragging me over the dirt and debris from the shrubs and trees around us, “you throw it outside to sleep with the wolves and the foxes.”
He comes to a stop under a large oak. I’m prostrate on the ground while he pulls my head back so that our eyes meet. “You will surrender to me, Lucy Stanton.”
Releasing my hair, he drops me back on the ground before he strides to a thick branch and uses a pocketknife to cut through the ropes holding the plank swing in place.
“Run,” he grunts, knotting the rope around the branch as I push myself up onto my feet. “I dare you.”
When it comes to instinct, I’ve never been one for flight. I’m not a cowardly runner. I’m a fucking fighter. It’s why the brotherhood sent me. Why they picked me to be their spy. A secret killer. Something unsuspected from my appearance.
If I run, then I can’t kill him, and all of this would be a waste. Habitually, I tip my chin down to search for the lucky penny that usually hangs around my neck. The crumb I left as insurance on their promise to protect me and rescue me if the plan went wrong. Which it has, and because I can’t bite my anxiety down on my penny, I do it on my lip.
I’m a fighter. I am strong. I will not surrender to this man.
As he turns back to the rope, I look around for anything that I can use to my advantage. Except for the natural debris from the tree, there’s nothing but a fucking stick. I don’t know what damage it will do, but even if it’s just a little…
Digging the thin heels into the dirt, I pick it up. The sharp pain to my side from being dragged over the uneven ground shoots through me, robbing me of my breath with a low groan. There’s no sign that he suspects anything while he carries on knotting the rope.
The fabric of his shirt pulls taut with every movement, showcasing muscles whose strength I’ve felt.
This is my moment.
The air is still, as though it’s trying to help me maintain my balance. Nature’s hum quietens to the faintest buzz.
One step, and I grasp the stick tighter in both hands.
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.
Fuck.
I’m covered in grazes and blood, and where my energy reserves are practically depleted, my senses are haywire. Every little noise makes my heart pound faster until my composure is all but gone and I’m ready to scream for help. Tears fill my eyes because the bastarding hope inside stops me from giving in to the exhaustion. It would be easier—merciful, even—for my body to give up on me. But I’m no coward, and this is not how I leave this earth.
They’re going to come for me.
They’re going to save me.
I’m going to blow this place into rubble.
And I will kill Tomasz Vassily.
His blood will be on my hands.