Page 24 of The Devil's Weakness

God damn it.

“Sit down,” he commands.

He folds his arms across his chest and plants his feet firmly on the ground in front of me. A lone tear runs down my face as my fear is confirmed.?

The Devil’s Skull has found me.

Still breathing heavily, I struggle to swallow the fear lodged in my throat, and I take a seat on the edge of the bed. I look at him, but my eyes don’t reach his face. I’m too scared to look him in the eye again. Too scared to see the cruelty in his stare.

I’m too scared that my eyes will betray me, and he’ll see that he evokes more than just fear from my body.

He towers over me in the only outfit I’ve ever seen him wear; distressed black jeans, a black t-shirt pulled tight over a muscular frame, and a black leather vest. The same “Enforcer” patch is on the lower right side of his vest.

“What are you going to do to me?” I inquire, shaking with fear.

It would be pointless to ask him why he’s here.

“Anything I want.”

The promise and intensity of his stare make my blood run cold.

“I’m the only one who gets to ask questions,Sasha. Did you honestly think you’d get away with it?” he questions.

I don’t know what to say to him, so I stay quiet, other than my sniffling. My eyes fixed on his bulky, shit-kicking boots.

He takes one step closer to me before speaking again.

“Did you think we wouldn’t come looking for you?”

His deep, scratchy voice sends chills down my spine, though not entirely from fear. I shake more the closer he gets to me. My brain is buzzing, trying to think of a way out of this. It’s screaming at me to run. But my fear holds me hostage, unable to move from my seat on the bed.

“Look at me,” he orders.??

I can’t. My body shakes uncontrollably, now, but to move voluntarily is impossible. I see his hand twitch, and I flinch. Instead of the attack I thought was coming, he merely places his finger under my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his.

“We have eyes and ears all over this country. There’s nowhere you can go where I wouldn’t find you.” When I look into his obsidian eyes, fear still paralyzes me, but my shaking quiets slightly. I want to tear my eyes away from the pain and anger I see in them, but I can’t. Just like that night two years ago, he holds me in a trance-like state, with a promise of never letting me go.?

Until he blinks; once again, it’s as if he’s cut me loose.?

My body slumps, and I cry. I weep more than I have since my father died. What I did to the biker, to this man’s friend. The guilt I feel about it, as well as for leaving, flows through me.??

“I’m so sorry,” I sob. “It was an accident, but I was so scared… I tried to see if he was okay, but…”

My hands cover my face in shame. I can’t see what he’s doing or how he’s looking at me. But he lets me have a moment to expel some of my grief.

“Get dressed,” he finally says in an authoritative tone. “I’m taking you back.”

“What? No!” My fear of going anywhere with him halts my tears, and I look at him.

I wait for him to yell at me, to pull me off of the bed, and make me do what he says, but he doesn’t. Instead, he narrows his eyes at me and speaks through clenched teeth.

“You can either come with me willingly and fully dressed, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and toss you into the back of my truck wrapped in nothing more than that towel. Either way, I’m taking you back to Whispering Valley.”

“I was just about to call someone to come get me and bring me home. I want to turn myself in.”

“Well, now you won’t have to,” he mutters with vitriol.

I can’t have him carry me out of here. If he did that, then I won’t be able to make a run for it, which is the first thing that pops into my head when he finishes speaking.

---