by Poppet
Rasp.
It burns. It hurts. Makes my eyes water where he cut me.
“Shauna this is your last chance. Your hands were not bound or your feet put into fetters; as a man falls before wicked men, so you fell. 2 Samuel 3:34.”
Rasp.
My lips are trembling so much, terror constricting my throat, I don't know if I can speak. Violent tremors shudder through me. Quaking. The air in my lungs evaporate in shock as the hollow metal lip of a lighter flicks back, breaking the oppressive quiet around us. Whirr, whoosh. A lone flame hovers between us. He's at a distance from me now. The flame, a silent death threat.
“You used water. The purification. I did as you ordered. Please … not fire.”
Crumbling I collapse, faint with petrified terror. Knowing already, I'm about to die. My hands are possessed, reaching for him of their own volition. Crawling over wet bedding, saturated with flammable fluid. Unaware that to him I look like an oiled concubine crawling to her master. “I beg you. Please … please. Vengeance I'll do anything.”
“Cry your tears of wealth. Cry for me.”
I'm beyond pride. That flame holds my life in peril. “Vengeance forgive me … please!”
“Depart from the tents of these wicked men and touch nothing of theirs, lest you be consumed in all their sins. Numbers 16:26.”
Nodding. “I promise.” So husky and alien.
“Shauna?”
“Yes?”
“A woman must not put on men’s clothing. Anyone who does this is detestable in the sight of the Lord your God. Deuteronomy 22:5.”
“I'll change. I will do anything.”
“Repent of your wickedness.”
“Vengeance …”
The flame guts and he disappears. The instant complete dark makes me blinded by him yet again. I rush after him, bumping my leg against the sharp corner of the mirror, momentarily desperate. Chasing after the man who stalks my life, his gruff voice the abrasive that wears me away … what's the point? I'm just the mouse in the trap. Try, you have to …
“Vengeance please don't hurt any more of my family or friends.”
He's silhouetted against the night in my sliding door to the balcony. “Honour the Lord that made you and the others will be spared.”
“Yes … yes, I will …”
“Remember that the Lord your God corrects and punishes you just as a father disciplines his children. Deuteronomy 8:5.”
Gulp.
He vanishes into the night.
With blind instinct I know he's gone next door to murder Victor. Running for the door I fling it open. Rushing to his, rapping loudly, urgent.
“Victor!”
•
The Watcher:
I lean back, satisfied. Finally Vengeance re-emerges to remind her of God's law.
A woman must know her place. They're all sinners. Whores tempted by the snake. Eating forbidden fruit which they then ruin righteous men with. I have allowed Vengeance the benefit of the doubt. He believes he can turn a woman. But watching this one, my opinion is strengthened.
“Yet your desire and craving will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.” Genesis 3:16.
God hardwired all women to fall on their knees for physical pleasure. They cannot help but submit to sins of the flesh.
~ Chapter 17 ~
You don't take a photograph, you make it.
~Ansel Adams
Victor:
Naked I run from the darkroom to grab my jeans. Ruffling the bed, then my hair and eyes; rubbing them hard to make it seem like they are sensitive. Switching on the light next to the door so she can hear it, I unlock and open it. My eyes sweep over her exposed body, glistening wetly. Hair sodden. With so much petrol on her she'll never smell it on me. “Shauna! Good God, what happened to you?”
She thrusts past me staring around wildly. I button my jeans as I watch the sexy bottom lip of my dirty angel tremor.
“Are you okay?” she blurts with obvious panic.
“You mean aside from having a hysterical neighbour running in here at 3 a.m, drenched in … petrol?” Walking deliberately to her, I cup her chin in a firm grasp, staring at her pupils. “What did you take?”
Trembling fingers wrap tensely around my thick wrist. She's so dainty. “You are in danger.” Her eyes flick nervously between the doors.
“What happened to you?” I make a play of modesty by trying to close her sliced camisole.
She points a shaking finger at the open front door. “Man in my apartment … ”
“Did he do this to you?”
She nods, terror dilating her pupils. The blood still pooling slowly from the incision I made under her eye. Scarlet suits her. This is my moment. Releasing her I stalk away barefoot. My movement silent, deadly.
Forcing the smile deep into my gut, scowling at her as I stride back past from my bedroom, popping a round into the chamber of the nine millimetre. “Lock the door and only let me in.” I keep walking, stealthily crossing the passage and slipping into her home.
My eyes feel the smug smile my poker face hides as I walk to shut the sliding door to her balcony. She has a security gate. It's my lucky day that she left both open.
Rifling through her underwear drawer I select a sheer white g-string. Moving to the bathroom I collect her robe and shampoo. I check each room, making sure my fingerprints are left behind. Picking up her keys, I lock the door behind me. Walking to my own, forcing a frown of concern, knocking sharply.
“Shauna.”
She pries the door open, huge eyes wide with fear. Her smile is unconvincing. Deliberately I snap the barrel on the nine-mil next to her as I step back in. She flinches predictably.
“There's no one there now.” Concerned glare, “Did you go to bed leaving your sliding door open?”
She nods, her chin now shaking with distress.
Lacing my fingers through hers, I lead her to the bathroom. Casually putting the gun down on the bookshelf on the way. “You have to clean up.” Watching her shame as I pry the wet lingerie off her. Loving that she's trusting me so completely already. Gently I hold her hands, sitting her down on the toilet seat lid, propping myself on the edge of the tub to stare into her sparkly eyes.
“Want to tell me what happened?”
“He, he …” She stops to breathe with exaggeration. “He ejaculated on me.”
I show no emotion, presenting myself as the logical, impartial neighbour. “So that's why the petrol. It would have destroyed any DNA evidence.”
Frightened eyes stare into mine as her hands tighten around my fingers.
“You are flammable. The skin is the largest organ and you absorb a lot through it.” Standing I switch the shower on and adjust the temperature. “I brought you some underwear and your robe. I'll find a t-shirt for you, I couldn't locate your pyjamas.” Turning to her with a supportive smile. My voice, forced gentleness. “It's okay. You can stay here. A naked woman is just that; a naked woman. I usually see them anaesthetised, but you have no reason to fear.” Plucking the camisole off the floor I hold out my hand expectantly, waiting for her pink knickers.
Unable to look at me, she keeps her wet hair masking half her face as she stares at the hand. Reluctantly removing her modesty and handing it to me.
“You shower, I'm going to burn these.” She nods, keeping her eyes averted. Picking up the shampoo and stepping into the shower I enjoy the view as she closes the frosted door. Moving onto my own balcony, placing the evidence into the kettle barbecue, I drop a lit match, finally indulging in a smile of triumph.
I've made us both coffee and notice her silent arrival just as I'm pouring Tia Maria into hers.
“You could use the alcohol.” I hand the mug to her, watching her sip. Taking a swallow of my own, appreciating her clean scent and glowing skin. That robe suctions onto her body magnificently, outlining femininity ready for service. She catches my stare. Looking instantly chastised.
“Victor, I'm so rude. I never thanked you
!”
Relaxing with my hip against the kitchen island, I stare down at her. I relish it when she's uncomfortable.
“And opening the door like that with Sarah. I didn't mean to disrespect you. I'd had far too much alcohol and it seemed like a really good idea at the time.”
“You seem to lead a very interesting life, Shauna. And I thought you were a hermit.” Stepping in, I finger the lapel between her breasts, “I saw this and thought of you. Thinking it would suit you. It does.”
Her shy smile widens. “I don't deserve a neighbour, or friend, as wonderful as you.”
Finishing my coffee I stare pointedly at my watch. “Where do you want to sleep tonight?” I hide a grin as she rushes the alcohol into her system, diluted with coffee.
She's buying time. Anticipating her next move I rub my hand between her shoulder blades, kneading the vertebrae that poke out in vulnerability. “Are you okay? Need a hug?”
Nodding, she steps closer, wrapping slender arms around my waist. Pressing a cheek into my torso just below my chest. So tiny and delicate. And all mine soon. Holding her assertively, I wait for her to break the contact.
Smiling as impartially as I can, I stare down at her when she disengages her yielding body from mine. “Where do you want to crash?”
She hesitates. Squirming visually. “May I sleep with you?”
Arching my eyebrows, I double check, “You sure?”
She nods, finally a genuine smile teasing sensual lips over her teeth. “I'm scared to be alone.”
Giving her a wink I wrap an arm casually over her shoulders, leading her into my bedroom. Leaving her standing alone at the base of the bed, while I deliberately unearth a military vest from the closet. I know it will be too big. If she's sleeping with me, I want to feel her with me when she's deep in slumber.
I turn from her, giving her a modicum of privacy. Deliberately pulling off my jeans and stepping into boxers as if we'd been married for ten years with a level of intimacy and comfort we have yet to achieve. Feeling the weight of her stare, I fold my jeans, and climb into bed.
She waited to see which side I sleep on, before crawling under the black cover to my right. I give her a cute smile. It isn't difficult to inject affection into it. I switch off the lamp, which switches off every light inside my home. Settling comfortably I whisper, “Goodnight Shauna.”
“Goodnight.”
The Rohypnol in her coffee should take effect soon enough. Rolling onto my back I wrap a lazy arm under my head. The dirty angel finally recognises her saviour. My smile broadens, hidden by night, as she slips her hand in mine. I give it a squeeze of reassurance.
The time has come to replace her contraception with folic acid pills.
~ Chapter 18 ~
And only the photographer himself knows the effect he wants. He should know by instinct, grounded in experience, what subjects are enhanced by hard or soft,
light or dark treatment.
~Bill Brandt
Shauna:
Victor makes me feel like I'm doing something forbidden, my heart's in my throat with anxiety severe enough to snatch my breath erratically. Yet I find him magnetically attractive, calming and protective. His demeanour and manner are serene. Nothing seems to alarm or phase him; a haven in this Hades chaos.
He just knows what to say and do. The reassuring hand massaging my back. Not once did he look at me as though I'm strange, with a cut under my eye and an eyebrow missing. Both make me feel like a reject, which I defiantly wasn't going to expose. The coffee did help, instantly relaxing my nerves. That is, until he took his jeans off. I'd been staring at the tattoo on the top muscle of his right arm. He's well defined in that effortless masculine way. If Vengeance hadn't reprimanded me, I would probably make a move on him.
Lying here in the dark, feeling his strong warm fingers around mine, infusing me with safety, I'm suppressing a belly laugh. How I can laugh now is beyond me. But then I used to laugh when really nervous as a teenager. Dialogue is running through my head.
“Where do you want to sleep tonight?” Talk about a loaded question.
That's like me asking him, “What do you like in a woman?” Waaaaahahaha. The answer is usually, “My dick.” Mirth rises and I pretend a cough to disguise it. I mean come on, I was doused with petrol, and who put out the fire? Metaphorically this guy is loaded. Total gigglemania. I ran to him, and he's just so capable in every way. No hesitation to protect me. I'd crawl over coals to have a man like this. He has no fear.
“Do you usually laugh when you are trying to sleep?”
“I think it's a delayed reaction. I'm feeling delirious. Euphoric even.”
“Shauna, when are you going to tell me what's really going on?”
Anxiety squeezes my lungs. Dare I tell him?
I feel him move, his heat lining my arm, easy breath tickling the hair off my face. Why is it so freaking dark tonight? It's like being in a darkroom. Or the pitch still of a cinema before the movie begins. “Do you ever wonder if you would do things that will endanger you, if you think today is the day you'll die? Or do you ever think, what the hell, I'm going to die, I may as well enjoy the journey regardless?”
“Are you avoiding the question?”
I twist onto my side, sculpting the duvet away in curvaceous elevation. He can't see me anyway. And this vest is too narrow at the top. I feel a boob pop out in exposure, now I'm glad that it's so dark. “No, it's just …”
“Shauna, I promise that whatever you tell me, I'll treat as doctor-patient confidentiality.”
The sincerity and gentle tone of his voice bring prickles of moisture to my eyes. Suddenly serious, I take a deep breath. Face your fears, right? “I'm crazy. I lost my mind. The last year of my life is a torturous hallucination. Except now it's manifesting into my reality, and everyone who knows me.”
“You can't manifest a hallucination.”
“Victor, I feel safe with you. But you aren't safe with me. I'm putting your life in danger just by being here.”
“How?”
“I'm not allowed to have love, or sex. If I do, something bad happens to the person who loves me, or touches me. You saw John's car explode. That's what I'm talking about.”
“Shauna, you're not making a whole lot of sense. How about you start at the beginning?”
In this moment of extreme vulnerability, I drop my guard. Telling him almost everything. Omitting the earrings and tattoo. I don't know why but I'm ashamed of them. “I went out dancing at a club with three girlfriends. I went looking behind the building for Natasha. Expecting to find her scoring E. Instead someone grabbed me, pushing a needle into my neck, pulling a bag over my head. The high heels and alcohol had me off balance. And I was no match for a lucid, strong man.” Relaying my hell. Sobbing, tears, disbelief shrouds me when he snuggles me right up against him, kissing my forehead systematically. Never interrupting. Never disputing.
Shuddering with the last replay of tonight, he kisses me. Shocking me silent. It isn't just any kiss either. It's not polite or sympathetic. It's not about comfort. Instantly I'm aware of how close we are. Skin pressing against skin.
His curtains must be rubber lined because no light penetrates in here from outside. Reminding me momentarily of the cell. All of my senses sharpen with proximity. Feeling the hairs on his legs caressing my skin. The hand holding the base of my spine, keeping me pressed against him.
Everything in me clenches with the penetration of his tongue into my mouth. It's deeply arousing, causing heat to diffuse into my cheeks while an aphrodisiac cocktail heats my knickers. Definitely not gay then. Attraction knocks loudly with that thought. His mouth sucks out my lower lip, his nose touching mine, breath fusing together erotically.
I'm feeling vulnerable and needy. Tempted to kiss him when he inhales to speak. I'd rather have body language now, than placations. Entwining my leg between his, I communicate willingness, silently. Content to stay here, absorbing his strength. Encircled, I feel safe from Vengeance here. I k
now Victor won't hurt me. He's different.
“You are so much stronger than you look.”
I can feel his heart beating under my palm, steady and sure. A finger depresses my bottom lip, tracing inside it suggestively. “We can't. He'll kill you.”
“I say we test this theory of yours.”
“I don't know how, but he sees everything I do, just like an omnipresent angel.”
“He just hasn't approved of your choices. I'm not surprised. Mark is it? He fucked you and left. He didn't even have the decency to kiss you good-bye”
“I know, but I don't believe he committed suicide. I know Vengeance got to him.”
“You don't think that perhaps these are all perfectly overlapping coincidences?”
“No. And I like you too much to have you die because of me.”
“I don't fear death. I want to test this. I'm scientific by nature. If he's watching, I want to be your experiment.”
I wish I could read his eyes. A part of me is desperate for the validation. To celebrate the life so nearly ended when staring at that lone flame tonight. I want to submerse myself in life celebrating pleasure; hiding in his strong arms, relishing his embrace. But then, I'll end up losing the only friend I have.
A gentle hand traces my face before holding it. He kisses me so deeply and passionately that my cage doors rip off with diabolic fervour. Tentatively slinking my hands around his head, fingernails in soft hair, urgently returning the passion that's annihilating my reserve.
He's warm, and comforting in his natural strength. His build reassuring. There's something about him. I do believe he's capable of anything. He would survive a nuclear explosion intact. He just has that silent presence of power about him.
Ignoring fear, I wrap a leg over his hip. Pushing erogenous zones together with hungry pressure. A thrill jolts through me when his body hardens, pressing deliciously, arousing me. I know he can feel it with that hand possessively holding my breast. Gasping raggedly, I can't think when his tongue and stubble introduce themselves to my neck.