CHAPTER 89
Her shock was so strong she jolted back, breaking his hold, though she suspected that was only because he let her do so.
She had to stop herself from saying ‘I hate you,’ for he raised the gun once more.
“Your shock is so cute,” he said, smiling, but it was wicked on his face.
She wondered if he even had another way to smile. “Did you take me for a fool?”
Words failed her, thoughts too, and she stared at him, mouth agape.
He gestured with the gun. “Now, my dear, come here.”
She tried to control her breath. “Don’t touch me.”
“Come now. I’m not like that beast. I’ll wait until marriage, my dear. I promise you have no threat from me.”
“You’re pointing a gun at me.”
“To keep you from running so I don’t have to keep chasing you down. You’re very wily.”
“You’re very controlling.”
He laughed at that, then covered the space between them in only a few steps. Reaching out as he moved, he grabbed her and with a violent tug, pulled her against his chest—barrel of the gun to the base of her jaw. “Don’t think I won’t hurt you just a little if you act up.”
Had he not just said he wasn’t a threat to her? In what universe did hurting her not constitute a threat, and yet he dared call her the liar? At least she lied to protect people.
“Now walk,” he said, spinning her. He didn’t give her much of a choice. Gripping her one arm, he shoved her along, back to the spot where she often met Kallias, and never had she felt such relief as when she saw nothing but an empty shore.
“Mermaid!” Mr. Runington screamed. But there was no response. “Perhaps I need to make you scream,” he said, gun trailing along her jaw.
Perhaps he needed to die. Perhaps he even deserved it. For she could see all too well what he was planning now.
“Mermaid!” he screamed again, and then there in the distance, she could see him coming. No.
So could Runington. She felt his grip loosen in his delight. It was now or never.
She bent as hard as she could at the waist, which broke his hold on her enough for her to dash away, and without a second thought she was jumping in the water. Was it her best idea? Probably not. But it was better to get away rather than be a helpless hostage that forced Kallias’s hand.
Kallias’s hands were actually soon around her.
She was underwater still, rushing through it faster than she had perhaps ever moved.
It must have lasted only twenty seconds, but the rush of the water against her was incredible: the pressure of it made it hard to not want to inhale or open her mouth, like it was trying to shove itself down her lungs as unwanted as Mr. Runington.
And it was certainly not a long amount of time, but it was enough that her lungs began to burn, and as if reading her mind, with a swirling motion, she was above the water.
Kallias was still below, holding her against his chest as he swam on his back.
They moved with clear intention until going around a curve of rocks to a cove she did not know.
And there was Mr. Wilson. His shirt was ripped off and tied around his shoulder, though there was seemingly copious amounts of blood on the sand.
“I’ve been trying to get it to stop.” Kallias’s voice sounded pathetic, so sad and torn. “Please tell me he didn’t touch you.”
“He didn’t hurt me,” she said, kneeling to Mr. Wilson, whose barely opened eyes turned to her.
“I promise I’ll be fine, Miss Wains,” he said, “so don’t look so concerned.”
“Daria, or it doesn’t sound like you.” Tears threatened. What should she do? She needed to get Mr. Wilson to a boat to get him to town, and she needed to stop Mr. Runington before he went and told the world about mermaids. But how could she do that without killing him?
As if Kallias read her mind again, he said, “Will he let us past without someone dying? Mr. Wilson isn’t well. I could swim him to town, but I don’t think all that water rushing by would be good for him, and the water’s so cold for him when he already looks like…”
Death. Like death was the end of that sentence, but he had the tact not to say it.
“We—”
She saw the boat too late. Another gunshot split the air.