"Forests were set on fire—but hour by hour
They fell and faded—and the crackling trunks
Extinguish'd with a crash—and all was black."
I swallow, moisture gathers in my core. How can I be wet by the mere cadence of this stranger’s voice?
I spring up to my feet.
"Sit down," he commands.
His voice is unhurried, lazy even, his spine erect. The cut of his black jacket stretches across the width of his massive shoulders. His hair… I was mistaken—there are threads of dark gold woven between the darkness that pours down to brush the nape of his neck. A strand of hair falls over his brow. As I watch, he raises his hand and brushes it away. Somehow, the gesture lends an air of vulnerability to him. Something so at odds with the rest of his persona that, surely, I am mistaken?
My scalp itches. I take in a breath and my lungs burn. This man… He’s sucked up all the oxygen in this open space as if he owns it, the master of all he surveys. The master of me. My death. My life. A shiver ladders along my spine. Get away, get away now, while you still can.
I angle my body, ready to spring away from him.
"I won’t ask again."
Ask. Command. Force me to do as he wants. He’ll have me on my back, bent over, on my side, on my knees, over him, under him. He’ll surround me, overwhelm me, pin me down with the force of his personality. His charisma, his larger-than-life essence will crush everything else out of me and I… I’ll love it.
"No."
"Yes."
A fact. A statement of intent, spoken aloud. So true. So real. Too real. Too much. Too fast. All of my nightmares… my dreams come to life. Everything I’ve wanted is here in front of me. I’ll die a thousand deaths before he’ll be done with me… And then? Will I be reborn? For him. For me. For myself.
I live, first and foremost, to be the woman I was… am meant to be.
"You want to run?"
No.
No.
I nod my head.
He turns his, and all the breath leaves my lungs. Blue eyes—cerulean, dark like the morning skies, deep like the nighttime…hidden corners, secrets that I don’t dare uncover. He’ll destroy me, have my heart, and break it so casually.
My throat burns and a boiling sensation squeezes my chest.
"Go then, my beauty, fly. You have until I count to five. If I catch you, you are mine."
"If you don’t?"
"Then I’ll come after you, stalk your every living moment, possess your nightmares, and steal you away in the dead of night, and then…"
I draw in a shuddering breath as liquid heat drips from between my legs. "Then?" I whisper.
"Then, I’ll ensure you’ll never belong to anyone else, you’ll never see the light of day again, for your every breath, your every waking second, your thoughts, your actions… and all your words, every single last one, will belong to me." He peels back his lips, and his teeth glint in the first rays of the morning light. "Only me." He straightens to his feet and rises, and rises.
This man… He is massive. A monster who always gets his way. My guts churn. My toes curl. Something primeval inside of me insists I hold my own. I cannot give in to him. Cannot let him win whatever this is. I need to stake my ground, in some form. Say something. Anything. Show him you’re not afraid of this.
"Why?" I tilt my head back, all the way back. "Why are you doing this?"
He tilts his head, his ears almost canine in the way they are silhouetted against his profile.
"Is it because you can? Is it a… a," I blink, "a debt of some kind?"
He stills.
"My father, this is about how he betrayed the Mafia, right? You’re one of them?"
"Lucky guess." His lips twist, "It is about your father, and how he promised you to me. He reneged on his promise, and now, I am here to collect."
"No." I swallow… No, no, no.
"Yes." His jaw hardens.
All expression is wiped clean of his face, and I know then, that he speaks the truth. It’s always about the past. My sorry shambles of a past… Why does it always catch up with me? You can run, but you can never hide.
"Tick-tock, Beauty." He angles his body and his shoulders shut out the sight of the sun, the dawn skies, the horizon, the city in the distance, the rustle of the grass, the trees, the rustle of the leaves. All of it fades and leaves just me and him. Us. Run.
"Five." He jerks his chin, straightens the cuffs of his sleeves.
My knees wobble.
"Four."
My pulse rate spikes. I should go. Leave. But my feet are planted in this earth. This piece of land where we first met. What am I, but a speck in the larger scheme of things? To be hurt. To be forgotten. To be taken without an ounce of retribution. To be punished… by him.
"Three." He thrusts out his chest, widens his stance, every muscle in his body relaxed. "Two."
I swallow. The pulse beats at my temples. My blood thrums.
"One."
Michael
"Go."
She pivots and races down the slope. Her dark hair streams behind her. Her scent, sexy femininity and silver moonflowers, clings to my nose, then recedes. It's so familiar, that scent.
I had smelled it before, had reveled in it. Had drawn in it into my lungs as she had peeked up at me from under her thick eyelashes. Her green gaze had fixed on mine, her lips parted as she welcomed my kiss. As she had wound her arms about my neck, pushed up those sweet breasts and flattened them against my chest. As she had parted her legs when I had planted my thigh between them. I had seen her before… in my dreams. I stiffen. She can't be the same girl, though, can she?
I reach forward, thrust out my chin and sniff the air, but there’s only the damp scent of dawn, mixed with the foul tang of exhaust fumes, as she races away from me.
She stumbles and I jump forward, pause when she straightens. Wait. Wait. Give her a lead. Let her think she has almost escaped, that she’s gotten the better of me… As if.
I clench my fists at my sides, force myself to relax. Wait. Wait. She reaches the bottom of the incline, turns. I surge forward. One foot in front of the other. My heels dig into the grassy surface and mud flies up, clings to the hem of my £4000 Italian pants. Like I care? Plenty more where that came from. An entire walk-in closet, full of clothes made to measure, to suit every occasion, with every possible accessory needed by a man in my position to impress…
Everything… Except the one thing that I had coveted from the moment I had laid eyes on her. Sitting there on the grassy slope, unshed tears in her eyes, and reciting… Byron? For hell’s sake. Of all the poets in the world, she had to choose the Lord of Darkness.
I huff. All a ploy. Clearly, she knew I was sitting next to her… No, not possible. I had walked toward her and she hadn’t stirred. Hadn’t been aware. Yeah, I am that good. I’ve been known to slit a man's throat from ear-to-ear while he was awake and in his full senses. Alive one second, dead the next. That’s how it is in my world. You want it, you take it. And I… I want her.
I increase my pace, eat up the distance between myself and the girl… That’s all she is. A slip of a thing, a slim blur of motion. Beauty in hiding. A diamond, waiting for me to get my hands on her, polish her, show her what it means to be…