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One Small Mistake(116)

Author:Dandy Smith

I hurtle onto the road.

I see the car before it sees me. It doesn’t slow.

Something slams into my back, and I shoot forward, rolling towards the opposite shoulder.

A car horn blares angrily at the mad woman who tried to throw herself in front of it.

And then it’s gone.

Jack is on top of me. He clamps a hand over my mouth, muffling my scream. Bringing his face close to mine, he says in a low rumble, ‘You’re going to get up and come with me.’

Gripping my wrist, he gets to his feet and hauls me up. With his free hand, he adjusts my hat. Then we are moving, I stumble alongside him and the tears come, streaming down my sweaty face. He marches us across the road and into the woods, snatching up the gun and rucksack where he dropped them – I guess running into the road with a weapon would’ve drawn far too much attention. I open my mouth to beg for my life but a sob burbles from my lips.

‘You could’ve killed yourself,’ he says furiously. ‘You’re welcome, by the way.’

Maybe he won’t murder me and bury me beneath the frozen earth. Still, I remember his hands around my neck, squeezing until I blacked out. If he loses control again, that could be it. My mind keeps spinning in a blind panic as I am catapulted back into the basement, Jack straddling me, eyes bulging, spittle landing on my cheeks as he choked the air out of me.

Back at the Land Rover, before I know what’s happening, Jack whips out a cable tie and secures my hands to the inside handle of the passenger door. He bundles me inside. When he climbs in, he takes a pair of sunglasses – his – from the glovebox and puts them on me. They’re too big and slide down my nose. I don’t fight or kick or spit or shout. There’s a heaviness winding around my muscles and I sink against the door, resting my forehead against the cold glass.

‘You failed your test,’ he says simply. ‘You really believe I’d give you a loaded gun? Didn’t think you’d actually shoot me though, Fray, but I’m glad you did.’

He is smiling at me like I’m a particularly bright student. ‘We’re more suited for each other than I could ever imagine. You’re ruthless, like me. Different sides of the same coin.’

I want to tell him he’s crazy, but I don’t have the energy to argue.

He chuckles, full of bounce. ‘We’re made to fit. We are. And I passed my test, Fray, I did. You tried to shoot me, you ran away, and I kept my cool. I meant it when I said I’d never hurt you again. Last time, in the basement, I thought I’d lost you and god, I’ve never felt so sick, so wrecked.’

I shiver, thinking of the half moon scars on my neck and remembering how close he brought me to death.

‘One day, you won’t have to pretend to want me, you just will,’ he says, ‘and when I know I can trust you, once you admit you’re in love with me, we’ll move away. We’ll get new passports, new identities. Move to Australia, New Zealand, somewhere far away with beaches and the ocean and a deck where we can sit and drink wine. You can write under a different name – you’ll get another agent, I know you will. And we’ll have kids. Or not, you know? Maybe I won’t ever want to share you. Maybe we won’t ever want to share each other.’

A tear slides down my cheek. I’ve mourned my freedom, mourned never seeing my family and friends again, but until now, I haven’t mourned Jack. He was a constant in my life for twenty-three years. He believed in me when no one else did, not even my family, and he made me think maybe blood isn’t always thicker than water. That maybe blood was just slippery and stained everything it touches, but everyone needed water; water is life.

Jack turns the key. Nothing happens. He tries again and still nothing happens. ‘What the hell?’ he mutters, examining the dashboard. ‘Shit.’

‘What is it?’

‘Battery’s dead.’

My heart skips. ‘Call the AA?’

Jack raises an eyebrow. ‘And what? Stuff you in the boot while they examine the problem? Or maybe you’d prefer I drag you back into the woods, tie you to a tree and hope you don’t get hypothermia.’

‘What, then?’

Agitation builds. He thrusts his fingers back through his hair. ‘Don’t know. Let me think.’

I wonder if he was joking about the boot and the woods.

‘Don’t move,’ he commands.

‘Jeez, and here I was planning a trip to Guernsey,’ I snap, pulling on the restraints.

Jack mutters under his breath and slams the door shut.