Calculating the number of days I have left in this apartment, I suppose there are about five additional days. Even more than that, if it takes the people who own it a few days to clean and turn over the whole place. I try to make a plan beyond that while I braid my hair, plaiting the thick mass into a semblance of propriety.
Where should I go? Interlaken is expensive. Actually, the whole country of Switzerland is pricey. Should I try to return to the south of France? Somewhere near Èze or Menton, perhaps?
I suppose the bigger question is what I will do with myself. I have no skills beyond sketching and scrubbing floors. Maybe I can get a job as a house cleaner, working on vacation rentals like the castle.
Hurt rears its ugly head at the mere thought of the castle, making my eyes mist over once more. I refuse to let it take over though, breathing quickly and fanning my face.
This is your life now, I tell myself sternly. Everything will hurt at first, every memory he touched. You’re going to have to learn to deal with it.
After staring out the giant picture window and watching the sun begin to drop behind the earth, I sigh. Leaving those kinds of decisions to be decided later, I try instead to focus on the things that must be dealt with now.
What can I do right now that will help me?
Glancing at the half-filled grocery basket, I spend a minute finishing the task of unpacking it. Apples, bananas, oatmeal. Carrots, cucumbers, hummus. The long, skinny baguette with its flaky crust.
I eat some carrots and hummus, wishing that I still had that piece of trout. Sliding my glance to the wicker basket that I carried the groceries in again, I bite my lip. The fish was very inexpensive. If I hurry, I can likely make it to the fish market before it closes.
That is a good first step to leaving the apartment, I feel. I just can’t focus on Dryas. Making myself think of anything but Dryas and our confrontation, I exhale slowly and pick up the basket. Slipping into my shoes, I rush out the front door.
It feels momentous, being outside in the warm early evening air. Not healing exactly; God only knows that I am so broken that it will be impossible to even think about putting the pieces back together.
But still, it feels… if not good, then right, to step outside of the rented apartment. The bakery below smells amazing, the yeasty scent of dough rising making my mouth water.
The street spills out underneath me, fairly quiet as the sunlight begins to recede from the tall buildings and the cobblestones alike. An older couple strolls by, unaffected by me staring at them. Arm in arm, they lean on each other in companionable silence. As I descend the stairs to the ground level, one of the bakers comes outside, shaking her apron into the stillness of the air.
A mass of flour comes off the apron, forming a little cloud hanging in the air before it comes streaming down onto the cobblestones. As strange as it sounds, the sight is comforting to me in some way. The world will go on as it always has before, not caring whether or not my heart is shredded and bleeding everywhere.
Going down the steps, I tuck my head down and start to walk the five blocks to the fish market. As I go, I count the steps I take. Mindlessly counting fills my thoughts, leaving no room for Dryas.
This is how I will get along. Filling my thoughts with other things, anything other than Dryas. Then the image of him naked comes to me. Dryas hovering over me with his broad shoulders and his dark expression, piercing me with his chartreuse gaze.
It’s like someone struck me across the stomach, stealing the breath from my lungs. I must duck into one of the narrow side streets as tears begin to stream down my face. Putting my hands over my eyes, I sag against a building, sobbing raggedly.
What am I going to do without him? He’s the only person I know outside the convent. The world seems to press in on me from all sides, impossibly heavy and hard to handle.
I turn myself toward the building, holding myself from collapsing completely with a shaking arm. It takes several minutes before I can right myself again and wipe my face.
Partially, I’m embarrassed that I am so weak and needy as soon as Dryas is no longer in sight. But I also feel a burning sensation in the pit of my stomach, a sense that he was right to walk away.
I am trash. I deserve what’s been done to me. I always have, and I always will.
After I compose my features a bit, I take a deep breath and turn to head back down the alleyway. Only I’m stopped dead in my tracks by the one person I truly never thought to see again.
Father Derrik stands at the end of the alley, his blue eyes glinting. His black clothing stands out against the creamy beige of the surrounding buildings, his blond hair perfectly parted as always.
And the expression on his face… the determined look of a creature whose prey is truly and firmly caught… it gives me chills.
Run, everything in my body screams.
I turn, thinking to flee the opposite way. But there are several young men in the dowdy black Church uniform, all looking at me with cruel smiles. Whipping back around to face Father Derrik, my heart beating a million miles an hour, it’s impossible to think. I desperately try to come up with a plan.
Something. Anything to get out of this alley, anything at all. I tremble where I stand, my mind completely blank. All I can focus on is Father Derrik’s slow advancement toward me. His footsteps on the cobblestones are loud.
Thud, thud, thud, thud.
His footsteps could be my heart, for they are beating to the same tune. The corners of his mouth curl up in a smirk. His bright blue eyes shimmer with the knowledge that he’s going to cause me a great deal of pain soon.
Mouth dry, head throbbing, I turn and run at the small flock of boys advancing on me from the other end. At least this way I will know I have tried something to escape Father Derrik. I won’t just stand here and let him catch me.
Two of the boys in black catch me easily, exerting little effort. Their smiles widen as one of them pulls me against his body, matching his groin to mine and pressing his cock against me through our clothing.
“Don’t touch me!” I screech, my fingers turned to claws. I rake my fingers across his face, leaving a set of red marks, but that only seems to goad all the boys.
They gather tightly around me, grabbing my arms and forcing them behind my back. The one whose face I just scratched steps back and punches me right in the stomach, driving every bit of air from my lungs.
I nearly tip over, curling in on myself. The pain is intense, feeling like I’ve been stepped on by a horse. What makes it so much worse is that the boy leans in, his lips near my ear. He rasps at me in an English accent.
“The Father said you would be more of a fighter, you fucking cunt. Or maybe you just fight when you’re turned on, eh?”
He grabs my breast, twisting it as if he means to rip it clean from my chest. I cry out, making all the boys around me whoop with laughter.
“Enough!” Father Derrik’s voice cuts through the noise. He’s close now, only three steps away. I look up at him, trying to backpedal. But the two boys who have my arms stand firm. Father Derrik’s mouth quirks up. “There will be plenty of time for that back at the convent, won’t there Rue?”
He reaches out to touch my hair, which has started to come loose from its plait in all the scuffling. Without thinking, I do the most unladylike thing possible.
I spit right in Father Derrik’s face. It lands on his cheek, just under his eye. There is a collective gasp from the boys around me. One of the boys to my right slaps me hard, the blow stinging and leaving me breathless.
Father Derrik touches his cheek, smiling cruelly. He looks right at me, holding me in place with his sky-blue gaze.
“Just wait until I get you to the convent,” he promises, his jaw clenching. “You are quite overdue for your confession, don’t you think?”
He steps to the side, motioning to a black car at the end of the alley. I squirm against the two boys, who start carrying me toward the car.
27
Dryas
Fuck.
I see pretty little Rue’s head disappear as she’s forced into the backseat of the black sedan. This complicates things by an order of magnitude. She wasn’t supposed to get in the middle of things, but here she is. Landing squat between myself and Derrik.
It was my intention to fly to Liechtenstein, to find Derrik in his lair and drag him out by the hair. To punish him, not just for killing Aurelia, but for deflowering Rue.
The look in her tear-filled eyes as she admitted to me that he had her first… the broken sound of her one-word admission… it cut me to the quick.
Derrik must have heard me wishing to slit his throat, though. Because as I was preparing to head out to the airport, he walked right by the window of the shop I was in, distracted by talking on the phone. Of all the luck in the world…
But now, with Rue back in the picture, the stakes have changed. My luck has run out, it seems.
I duck behind the newspaper I’ve been carrying around for the last two days, watching as Derrik vanishes into the sedan too. Now I watch the car from behind the front page, opening my phone and dialing Ari’s phone number. Ari picks up on the first ring.
“I’m just outside town,” he says, before I can say anything. “Seriously, five minutes away. You called, I came running.”
My lips thin. “I’m not complaining about that. I am calling to tell you that I am going to send you my GPS information. I found Derrik, but instead of waiting for you as I planned, I’m going to have to go ahead without you.”
“What? What’s happening?” he demands. “Oh, I see you on the car’s dash all of the sudden. I’m almost to your location.”
I grimace, watching the car. The sedan’s back door is still open; they aren’t going anywhere for the moment.
“Hurry. Derrik found Rue—”
“Merde!”
Squinting at the car, I shade my eyes. The sun is bouncing off a shop window across the street and it’s blinding me. “Yes, and they are in a car. Any second now, they will take off. If I lose sight of them, I may never see Rue again.”
“Not to mention the fact that she is likely terrified right now, no?” His phone squeaks.
The sedan’s back door slams and the car pulls away from the curb. I tense, looking around. Maybe there is another car I can borrow for the time being… The car is traveling slowly, but I’m not traveling at all.
Fuck. Fuck. Think of a solution!
A navy SUV pulls up in front of me, blocking my view. I scowl at the dark tint on the windows, until the window dips down to reveal that Ari is the driver.
“Get in!” he says, reaching over to open the door.
Already I’m launching myself into motion, ripping open the door and climbing inside the well-appointed vehicle.
“Go, go!” I yell at Ari, slamming the door. “They are in a black sedan. There, you see it?”
He takes off with a screech of tires, quickly catching up to the sedan. He doesn’t follow it too closely, which I approve of. I don’t want to draw attention to a rescue party, if that is what this has become.
My internal gears whirling, I pull up the map on my phone. Looking at the roads ahead, I lick my lips.
“He’s either got to take a left or a right at the next light. From there…” I use two fingers to expand the map. “Ahh, okay. They are going to take a left up ahead…” I stare patiently at the car, waiting for it to turn left. It does, so I continue. “Then we are on a narrow, straight highway for about five miles. And then it’s either the airport, or there is a turnoff to go up into the mountains…”
Ari looks speculatively at the car ahead of us. “What do you want me to do, monsieur?”
I stare out the windshield of the SUV. The town falls away from either side of our vehicle, leaving us driving through the flat valley, heading toward the mountains looming in the distance. There isn’t much here except a lot of bright green grass. The trees start coming in here in less than a mile though, with the first upward slope in the road.
Ari slows the SUV down, not wanting to appear as though we were following the sedan. What do I want Ari to do?
That is the question, isn’t it? If we decide to take them at the airport, there is the possibility that they won’t go there. Plus, I have no control over the people at the airport, possibly people with guns. And if they decide not to go to the airport for some reason… then it is all truly out of my hands.
The best-case scenario would be if we intercepted the black sedan before it got to the point of making a choice. That would mean we would have to act quickly because according to the map on my phone, we only have four miles left. And we will also have to be very careful.
With Rue in the car we are chasing, I cannot afford any mistakes. I slide my glance over to Ari, who is watching every move that the car in the near distance makes. A trickle of sweat slips down my spine.
“We are going to have to ram their car.” My words sound matter of fact, as if it’s absolutely decided. But on the inside, I am a bundle of raw, exposed nerves.
Repeatedly, I keep seeing the first tears start to escape Rue’s eyes as she whispers her secret to me. I keep pushing it away because this is certainly not the time or place, but it does make something clearer than ice to me.
If I fail in this mission, I may never get a chance to tell Rue how I feel. I may never have a chance to hold her close again, to inhale her unique scent, to promise to protect her with every breath I have left in my body. I was so driven to seek revenge as soon as she told me, I do not think I actually said the right words to her.
It’s not your fault.
There is nothing to forgive.
I swear, I will make that bastard pay.
And most importantly… nothing has changed between us.
Now, speeding after a car containing both the girl I’m infatuated with and my blackest enemy, regret seizes my throat.
Ari has been saying something, but I let my thoughts sidetrack me.
“Say that all again,” I tell him, shaking my head. “I did not hear any of it.”
Ari’s expression is flat. “I said that we have to hurry. Look.”
He points to the map on the vehicle console, showing that we only have a short length of road before it splits. I reach for my seat belt, pulling it around myself and taking a deep breath.
The decision has been made. I must act now, or possibly lose Rue forever. “You’re going to have to ram their car.”
I glance at Ari; whose expression is intense and serious.
“From the back?” he asks, puzzling it out.
I too play it all out in my mind. We can speed up and ram them from behind. We can ram them from the side. We can pull ahead of them and stop short.
I wish I knew exactly where Rue is sitting. Looking up at the forest that is quickly approaching, I hesitate.
“Monsieur…” Ari prompts me anxiously.
“We will have to get ahead of them,” I say. Sweat beads at my temple. “We want to take their driver out while saving Rue.”
Ari floors the SUV, hard enough that I need to grab onto the dashboard. We rapidly gain on the sedan, Ari flashing the lights to indicate that he plans to pass. It’s close enough now that I can try to make out the people inside, but the windows are tinted. The sedan slows down a bit to let us pass.
Ari pulls out into the other lane, putting the pedal to the metal. I sit back in my seat, turning my face away from the window as we begin to edge forward and pass the sedan. There is no need to attract attention to myself, just in case Derrik is watching.
As we pull even with the sedan, it swerves close to us.
“Merde!” Ari cries, pulling the SUV out of the way. We hit the tree line suddenly, our vehicle beginning its gradual climb.
That doesn’t stop the sedan, though. It straightens out for a second, then swerves suddenly, banging into our vehicle this time.
“Fuck!” I cry. “Take them out, Ari!”
Ari does just that. Grimacing,
teeth clenched, he plows the SUV into the side of the black sedan. There is the horrifying screech of metal crunching, and a sickening sense of being completely out of control.
I’m not sure which vehicle starts to roll, but suddenly we are sideways. Then up again, then sideways. The world keeps flip-flopping, making it impossible to focus my eyes on any one thing. I desperately try to cling to consciousness. One thing rings true in my mind.
We are really, properly fucked.
28
Rue
I’m wedged into the back seat of the sedan between Father Derrik and one of his stooges, who is staring at me with a dead-eyed smirk on his face. The Father stares out the window, drumming his fingers on his knee.
The boy next to me adjusts himself, not bothering to hide his obvious erection. I pretend not to notice, although he keeps rubbing and adjusting his crotch, perhaps hoping I’ll take an interest. The thought occurs to me that if I were to start behaving brazenly, kissing the boy and rubbing his cock with my hand, it would infuriate Father Derrik.
Then again, I’ve never had punishments from Father Derrik that have ended well for me. A shudder runs down my spine, just thinking about him turning away, letting the boy take me right here.
I gaze straight ahead, out the windshield, my hands curling into fists in my lap. Vowing silently to never let it happen to me, I hold my breath as the boy presses against me.
Scar, I have been calling him. He’s pale with raven’s wing hair and he has an enormous scar running down one side of his face. I look over at Scar out of the corner of my eye, blank-faced. Inside, I am completely disgusted by him. But I behave like a simpleton, because it is easier to feign ignorance than protest.
I try to think of a way out, a way to escape Father Derrik once again. But it is impossible when I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re doing. I clench my teeth, shifting away when Scar puts a hand on my knee.
“Arrêtez,” Father Derrik says mildly, looking pointedly at Scar. “Elle n’est pas pour toi.”
Possess: Protect Book 3 Page 13