Page 112 of Darkness of Mine
Zach freezes. He leaves Harley halfway up the steps and turns to face me, his steps predator slow as he walks back down. My gaze drops to the gun he’s slipped into his hand, and I press my back up against the concrete wall as he strolls towards me.
Two steps and we’re breathing the same air. The cold metal of the gun burns my temple as Zach drags the edge of the barrel down my face.
“Maybe not, but she can play the part. Just like you can.” Zach’s laugh is low, manic tinted. “You and I never did get to properly play, did we, Little Star?”
My throat thickens as I swallow.
“Now there’s an idea.” Zach lowers the gun to my side and trails his nose along my jawline, breathing me in. “You know, my father may have made Freya and her temporary lovers off limits for the time being, but he never said anything… about you.”
I close my eyes and twist my head to the side, every inch of my skin crawling from his touch.
His tongue slides against the shell of my ear. “You can be my Little Star, can’t you? I know your memories are a little lost. Why don’t I remind you how good it was between us?”
Bile hits the back of my throat. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. Zach is losing it, reality blurring as he falls into his fantasy. There’s nothing I can do. I just stand there frozen until he pulls back and jabs the gun into my waist.
“Move. Upstairs.”
My legs tremble as I walk. This is good, I tell myself. This is what we wanted.
Zach stays close behind me. He grabs Harley’s arm as we pass, dragging her up with us.
I don’t need to wait for Zach to tell me where we’re going. Muscle memory takes me to the bedroom at the end of the hall. My bedroom.
And it is my bedroom, right down to the small tear in the pale pink wallpaper above the bed. The desk where I used to do my homework is the same painted white wood and the books I used to escape my life are stacked up on the bedside table. The one thing my father never did was hurt me in this room. I thought it was my safe space until I remembered Zach.
Once all three of us are in the room Zach shuts the door. He tucks the gun into his waistband and takes out a knife. Holding it in one hand, he picks Harley up under the arms and places her on the bed.
She stares at me, tears welling in her eyes as he trails the tip of the knife across her neck.
I cringe as Zach presses the blade to her skin and a sob falls from her lips.
He locks his gaze on me. “You try anything, and I slice her throat. Understand?”
“Yes.” The word comes out croaky, my mouth bone dry. I barely hold it together as Zach pushes Harley until she’s lying down on the bed but I force myself to wait.
He places the knife on the bed and strokes a hand down Harley’s leg. She sobs. “It’s okay, Annie. We’re just going to play a game.”
“I don’t want to play,” Harley cries.
“Aw, sweetie,” Zach coos. “It doesn’t matter what you want because you’re mine. You have always been mine.”
I shift, waiting till he moves his hand away from the knife. “How can I be yours, Zach,” I say, “if you can’t even recognize me when I’m right in front of you?”
Zach’s head snaps my way. Brutal realization flashes in his eyes. He erupts towards me and I dodge past him, lunging for the knife on the bed. “Now, Harley! Now!”
“My name is Harley!” she screams as she launches herself off the bed towards the door.
She does exactly what I told her, except the knife I almost had falls to the floor as she slides off the bed.
I reach for it, but Zach grabs my hair and tugs me back. I manage to kick the knife under the bed before he can pick it up and then I turn on him, shoving my shoulder into his waist to hold him back as Harley sprints from the room.
I keep him pinned against the bedside table for precious seconds before he slams the hard edge of a book against my head.
He shoves me and I stumble back, twisting round and reaching for his ankle as he heads to the door. I yank hard, pulling him down to the floor with a sickening crack.
We scramble on the floorboards and I fight with everything I have, each jab I land, each hit I take buying Harley time to run as far away from this cabin as she can.
The slam of the front door unlatches something in my heart.Keep running, Harley.
