Wraith

by Joy Blood

  Chapter Twenty

  Three days pass with nothing but snow. Enough to nearly cover the small cabin. The snowmobile that was left outside is nowhere in sight, not that I knew where it was in the first place. Wraith has slept most of the time, making the small area blissfully quiet, save for the howling wind. “How many inches today, you think?” so he's awake. Looking down from the bed, I see his eyes wide open, studying me. Our prisoner/captor situation now reversed.

  “Don’t know.” I limit my words to short sentences, knowing that the man has skills in getting people talking, even without the use of torture tools.

  “The wood is starting to run low. I’m going to have to go out and dig up the supply or we are going to freeze.” His words annoy me, as if he thinks that he is able to just up and walk out of here without my say so. Which he doesn’t have. “That being said you will have to untie this.” He holds up his hands as best as he can behind his back. I had woken yesterday with him looking me over while I slept. Again. It took only seconds for my foot to connect with the side of his head, effectively knocking him out and allowing me to tie him up. I knew I should have done it before, seeing as how he was more than capable to get up and go outside to relieve himself twice already. With my gun trained on him of course. Now he sits on the floor next to the bed with his hands tied behind his back and his ankles tied together while being attached to the bed frame.

  “Not going to happen. You tell me where to go and I will find it.” Or I will try anyway. Navigating myself through a whiteout of snow might be a little complicated.

  “Suit yourself, just don’t get shot.” He smirks at me then proceeds to tell me where his supplies are located. Alongside the cabin on the north side of the wall. Underneath a tarp, like the sled should have been.

  After pulling on layer upon layer to protect myself from the elements, I step outside. The cool air hits my face with the sharp sting of blowing snow. With the wind blowing up against the small building, a tall snow drift was formed, tall enough for me to barely see above. Peeking over the top of the tall drift I get a tingling feeling of being in someone’s crosshairs. I know he is out there, whether he is going to come after me or not, I’m not sure. I decide not to dwell on it and move toward the back of the cabin in search of the wood stack. It doesn’t take me long to locate it. Pulling the tarp over the neatly stacked wood I go about filling my arms and carrying the stacks inside to replenish the indoor supply. Each time I step through the door Wraith keeps his eyes trained on me. I pretend not to notice, as I have for days now.

  It doesn’t take long before I have a sizeable stack next to the wood stove. “you probably should go and fill up the pot, too. Water must be running low. Make sure to boil it for ten minutes before letting it cool. Then you can—”

  “I think I can handle it without your instruction,” I snap, annoyed with his overbearing instruction.

  “Just trying to help.”

  “I don’t need your help.” Grabbing the nearly empty pot from the stove with my gloved hands, I bring it outside and begin packing in the top layer of snow when I hear the crack of a branch off in the distance. I jump up and grab for the pistol tucked in the back of my pants. I catch the sight of snow falling from a tree along with the branch it snapped from the weight. As if to assure me further it happens again. The heavy snow causing the branches to collapse under the pressure. The cracking sound not as loud this time around. I let out the breath I was holding and wait for a moment before tucking my gun back into my pants.

  With the pot in my hands, I go back inside and place it on the stove. “If you want—” Without a second thought I’m stopping his words. Finding the gun in the back of my jeans again I bring it up under his chin.

  “What I want, is for you to keep your mouth shut. If I want your opinion I will let you know. Until then, if you rather not have another hole in your head, you will keep your mouth closed,” I growl into his face close enough to feel his breath wafting over my lips.

  “Whatever you say, tiger.” He lets a slow lazy smile spread across his lips and I find my gaze lingering too long. His beard has grown a little thicker the last few days of our captivity, causing my lower belly to heat at the thought of how it would feel brushing along my skin. But with that thought comes the image of what it would look like drenched in blood if I pulled this trigger right now. The need to kill him is racing along the need to do other things to him and its fucking with my mind.

  “Shut up.” I stand, pulling the weapon away from his chin. “I can get a lot more done if I don’t have to hear you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She is a little testy today. I want to tell her that I didn’t stock any tampons or Midol, but I decide against it. Keeping the blood in my body instead of bleeding out all over the cabin floor sounds like a better decision than antagonizing her further.

  She gets up and goes to check on the pot of snow, which should be boiling soon if it isn’t already. I watch quietly as she glances down at her wrist where the GPS watch I took off her is back in place. She presses a button, most likely starting a timer then she is rifling through the empty water jugs under the countertop. I have three large blue jugs with spouts on each one. I was on my last jug before I went hunting so it is more than likely empty by now.

  Doing as she instructed I don’t tell her how to do things as she places the pot aside then tries to pour the hot liquid inside the jug. I let the water cool before pouring it in. She isn’t and it just annoys the fuck out of me but still I keep quiet because I need her to go outside one more time.

  As soon as she goes out to fill up the pot again I spring into action. Underneath the bed I have my stash of weapons along with some other gadgets. She hasn’t seen it because of the rug I have over the trap door. I let out a relieved breath she didn’t notice the rug was moved and pull it back once again, struggling with my hands behind my back. The pain in my side is dull and if I move too quickly I can feel the pinch of the stitches pull, so I try to keep my movements slow and calculated.

  With the small door in sight, I get the end of it up and push my hands underneath to search for a blade. I quickly feel the cool steel against my fingers. What fucking luck. I scoot away and let the door fall shut with the rug landing back into place right when the door flies open again. Her scowl is firmly on her face but not fixed on me this time. I keep my mouth- with great effort- shut and wait for the refilled pot to boil for the allotted ten minutes to kill off any bacteria that may be in the snow. Finally when it is done she pisses me off again by pouring the hot liquid into the drinking jugs. Still I keep my jaw clenched shut, until she is completely out the door. That is when I start cutting away at my binds. It only takes seconds with the sharp blade and I’m free. Before she comes back I stash my knife underneath me and then arrange the cut binds over my legs as if to show I am still under her control and put my hands behind my back once again. The girl is shrewd, I will give her that, but she can’t best me. No one can.

  As she walks through the door once again, hands filled with the snow packed pot, I watch her. Waiting for my chance to take back the power I had to give away to save myself from bleeding out. Yesterday when she woke up and knocked my ass out, I knew I fucked up. My intent was to take back control of the hostage situation I was forced to create but I found myself entranced by her. Remembering how it felt to be beside her just a few nights ago. How soft her sweet little body felt against mine. Her face soft with only the slightest tinge of purple-ish yellow underneath her eyes from our first meeting still healing. Her dark eyelashes fanning out along her cheeks opened up, revealing a pair of blazing brown orbs that promptly widened at me looming over her. Instantly her position changed and before I could even take my next breath her bare foot was connecting with my temple. Quick like a tiger. But now I have the upper hand as she busies herself at the kitchen counter.

  “Any chance there is a can of peaches left on the shelf?” I know there is I’m just wanting to see if she will feed me, maybe if
I get her close enough—

  “No.” Her answer clipped, no nonsense. Getting this girl to talk is harder than shooting fish in a barrel.

  “I know there is.”

  “Then why ask,” she states rather than questions. She just ignores me further and walks back out the door to refill the pot again. I’m up and standing behind the door ready for her to walk through, my knife in hand. It seems to take forever before her small footfalls sound outside the door. Just as it swings open I’m on her, the cold steel pressed against her throat.

  “Drop it,” I growl above her, leaning down to press my mouth to her ear as I hold the knife snug.

  “Fuck.” Her word only a whisper but I hear it, can feel the heat flowing through her body, anger radiating off her in waves. The pot clatters to the floor causing the snow to scatter around our feet.

  “Going to need you to get back on the bed,” I state, swinging my foot out to shut the door as I maneuver the two of us closer to the bed.

  “No.” Pressing the knife further in to her soft flesh I know the moment it spits the skin because she lets out a small hiss. “Kill me. Or don’t kill me. It doesn’t matter because he is out there and believe me when I say he will get you,” she threatens making a slow smile grow on my face.

  “I didn’t think you knew who it was out there.” Clucking my tongue, I let out a small chuckle. “You must tell me about your friend, little girl. After you get on the bed of course,” I demand steering her toward the bed. She isn’t going to give up though. Not that I would expect her to, she did go one on one with me when she was in the process of hypothermia. I would lose respect for the little thing if she didn’t take every opportunity to fight back.

  She takes her chance, elbow shooting out to jab my injured side while her hands fly to my hand holding the knife. The pain sears through me, allowing her to take control of the knife enough to pull it away and turn to face me. She swipes my feet from under me, causing me to drop to my ass. Son of a bitch. My back hits the floor hard nearly knocking the wind out of me but she doesn’t let up. She is on me, straddling me and holding the knife right at my windpipe, the tip of the steel pressing in just enough.

  “The quickest way to kill someone.” Her breaths are labored, much like my own. “You can slit someone’s throat, but if you jab them right here.” She pushes in a little more for effect. “The kill is easier, less to slice through.”

  “It is. Question now though, is why haven’t you done it yet?” I pant through clenched teeth trying to steady my breaths. Between the jab to my side and the fall to the floor, I find myself lacking things, like air. What I don’t find myself lacking is the blood that rushes right to my cock. Christ, the girl wants to make me bleed out and all I’m finding myself wanting to do is fuck her while she does it.

  “I should.” Her voice the most unsure I have heard it since she woke on my bed. “I could.” She drops an octave, barely even noticeable it’s so quiet.

  “Then do it, baby. Shove that blade right into my throat, just do me one thing before you do…” Her brow cocks, thin sculpted dark brown, matching her hair. The pressure she is putting on the blade falters just slightly but still holds firm.

  “What?” The muscles visibly flex in her throat as she swallows. She is contemplating answering my unasked question. She isn’t ready for me to die just yet. Interesting.

  “You have a grudge. That much is obvious. You came here for me. I think I deserve to know the reason why.” Something cloudy flashes in her eyes when I make my declaration. Clouds I have seen before. “Who are you?” I narrow my gaze on her, lifting up as if to get a better look at her face but the bite of the blade on my windpipe has me halting my movement.

  “Someone you wronged,” she says tossing herself in with a million other people in the world.

  “Hardly gives me an answer. That list is long.”

  “I have no doubt about that.” She lets out a dry laugh. So she does know sarcasm.

  “I’m still waiting, tiger, and you seem to have me at a disadvantage.” The deep chocolate pools of her eyes darken as her brows sink into a scowl.

  “Why would you even remember? I was just a piece of expendable trash for you to discard when you got bored.” I swear I catch a tremble in her lip as she speaks, but I’m too enamored at who she thinks we are to one another. I’ve done some bad shit in my life there is no question, but if I have slighted this girl I have no knowledge. “I was a child!” she yells in my face, letting up on the blade. I remain still as her shaking arms drop to her sides and the knife clangs on the floor at our side. I find myself placing my hands along her thighs, still sitting astride me. She doesn’t flinch so I continue on until I’m holding her hips in place, my thumbs absently make circles on the bare skin where her shirt has ridden up her stomach.

  “Going to have to help me out here. I need more detail.” Like a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped all over her head she snaps out of her slight sobs and locks her gaze on me, now frosted over.

  “You want details? I’ll give you fucking details,” she growls as her hand shoots out and grips a log from the pile before slamming it to the side of my head, knocking me out.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “You wanted to see me, sir?” I stand in Roman’s doorway hands behind my back, eyes pinned straight forward, until told otherwise.

  “Yes, Esteban. Come in,” he says keeping his nose still buried in the paper he is looking over. “I have heard great things,” he says glancing up from the paper to regard me. “You have made quite the reputation for yourself. Come a long way from cleaning up shit and piss from the floor of the basement, no?” I give a one word answer.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes,” he echoes, sending a long, drawn-out smile my way. “You are showing promise, my boy. And for that, I have a gift for you.” His hand gestures to the crumbled ball in the corner of his office. After three years, I still try to pretend I don’t see it. Her hair has gotten longer now, rattier, and unclean. As have her clothes, tatters of fabric barely covering her dirt covered—skin and bones—body.

  “A gift?”

  “Yes.” Roman grins and rises from the chair with a heft. Over the years he has gotten softer around the middle, rounder. “She is a loose end I decided not to tie. All yours to do with as you wish,” he says with a smile making me inwardly grimace.

  “What would I do with her?”

  “Whatever you want. Have her do your laundry, cook your dinner. Hell, fuck her for all I care. She is your responsibility from now on.” He then reaches down and grabs a handful of the girl’s hair and pulls her whimpering form to her feet. Her hair is a matted mess and I can see the remnants of what may once have been blood on her clothes.

  “How old is she?” I ask, looking from her back to him. I can tell he is getting annoyed with my hesitance, his eye twitches giving him away.

  “Who the fuck cares. Just take her out of here she is starting to stink,” he barks shoving her my way. She lands with a smack to my chest nearly falling to the floor once again but I stop her from doing so. Without another word Roman goes back to whatever it was he was doing when I came in.

  I turn to leave with the girl in tow. I have no idea what to do with her so I take her to the only place I can think of—the basement, my old cell. Without a word, I shove her inside and close the door behind me. The clicking of the lock echoes deep within my black heart, making it beat at a slow pace. I stand there for several minutes, hours maybe, until I find myself pushing away from the door and going outside to the training area. I need to work out some frustration and knocking together some skulls will help.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I don’t tie him back up this time. Instead, I take the knife he had and stash it along with the pistol I found. I get myself situated on the bed once again—my perch to look down on him still passed out. I wanted to plunge the knife right into his throat, but I couldn’t do it. Just like master said, I’m not ready. He said I would crumble un
der the pressure, and he was right. “You will not be able to kill him, Sobaka. You will think you can, but when it comes down to it, you will falter. You will falter, and you will fail. He will get the upper hand and kill you himself.”

  Groaning pulls me from master’s echoing words and I see him rolling to his side. “You are going to have to stop hitting me in the head, tiger. You may be causing some serious brain damage.” He sits up, looking himself over before his eyes connect with mine. I can see the surprise in his gaze as he moves his hands confirming he is no longer bound. “I have more rope.” I shrug but offer no words, not ready to give him the satisfaction. “Don’t want to talk yet I see.” Slowly he stands to his feet and starts for the door. I don’t say a word as he grips a heavy coat in his hands and slings it over his shoulders before moving my pitiful barricade out of the way and disappears outside. Panic rushes through me when it takes him nearly three minutes to come back but when the knob starts to move and the door is pulled open, revealing his strong steady frame, I let out a breath. Even with the blood loss and clear stunt to his body, he is still more than capable of overpowering me. The fact that other parts of him were still working perfectly underneath me as I held him to the floor didn’t escape me either. The memory of him pressing against me comes back with a hot shiver wracking my body. Just thinking about it makes my cheeks heat, but I force it away. That is not why I’m here nor is it something I can even consider entertaining.