Page 37 of Missing Piece
“What if I ask nicely?” There was a drumming sound, as if she were right against the wood, tapping a single fingernail against the surface.
For some reason, that made Adam’s skin break out in goosebumps. It was too casual compared to the violent screeching and banging from before.
“We’re good,” Ophelia called. “Take your little abomination back to timeout and we’ll consider it.”
Bang. The sound made Adam flinch away from the door for a moment before he pressed back against it.
“Don’t talk about my son like that,” the woman beyond snarled.
“Your son? That’s not possible,” Ophelia murmured, her brow furrowed as she seemed to try and process the information before she shook her head. “Oooh, you’re one of them. A fucking nutcase.”
As the door bowed inward from the next strike, Adam flinched again, noticing a piece of the wood beside his head was splintering inwards. “What the fuck are you doing?” he hissed at her. “Why are you antagonizing her?”
Ophelia rolled her eyes. “Four and a half minutes.”
“Come out, humans, I can smell your masters on you,” the woman shouted before she hit the door again. “I want to talk to you. I won’t hurt you.”
Ophelia moved away from the door, her blade lowered to her side as her blank eyes lit up.
“What are you doing?” Adam whispered as his body absorbed another blow through the wood. “Help me hold this.”
She shook her head. “Can’t you hear that? The bitch has an axe. We need to get back before it finds more than wood,” she said, motioning for him to retreat from the door.
“But—” His words cut off as more of the wood splintered inwards, the top tip of the metal axe shining through the gash.
Shit. She was right.
When he looked back at her, she was tapping on her phone rapidly with one thumb, her glittering brown eyes trained on the door, the smirk still splayed on her face. She thrust her phone at him and raised her blade to her lips, motioning for him to stay silent.
A simple note was written across the screen: “She’ll get through before Vin gets here. We need to stall them or hold them off for a few minutes longer. Get away if you don’t want an axe in your neck.”
Adam gulped.Okay. So we’re doing this. Fuck.He moved back as the axe hit the wood again, rattling the brass doorknob. He squeezed the knife as the splintering grew larger, more pieces falling inwards. He wished he was back with Vincent.
Please get here soon.
The axe stopped hacking at the door, the only sound he could hear was his own blood rushing in his ears and the sound of whimpering from the child monster. Ophelia muttered at him to breathe as she stepped further back, positioning herself to be hidden behind the door if it opened. The fact that he was going to be the first thing the womansaw when she got it open was not lost on him. Ophelia was making it so he would be seen first.
It was a smart move for her. Terrible for him, but he would have done something similar if he had the upper hand in the situation, so he really couldn’t fault her.
A slender arm snaked through the hole in the wood, feeling blindly with bony fingers for the latch that kept it locked. Ophelia stepped forward silently, raising her knife as the hand unlatched the lock and began to pull back. She slammed the blade into the center of the bony hand, pinning it to the wood.
“Fucking asshole!” the woman shouted. Her fingernails scraped the varnish off the surface before she pulled back, the blade slicing through the webbing of her middle and ring fingers. Ophelia stuck close to the wall as she plucked her knife free and retreated again, her face still deadly calm.
Great. Now she thinks I did it.Adam adjusted his grip on his own knife as the door creaked open. His arms and legs burned, ready to swing, slash, and run for his fucking life, but the woman did not enter. The opening just continued to creak wider.
Then she came into view. Lithe and pale, her brunette hair messy and matted, she smiled wide at him, revealing eight pointed fangs and gleaming black eyes. They weren’t hypnotically beautiful like Vincent’s, they were an endless void. Like the little monster’s. “I know you,” she said softly, cocking her head at him as she eyed the knife in his hand. “Adam Nolan.”
Adam backed against the sink. “What’s it to you?”
She moved towards him, sniffing the air around him. “You smell like him. Bellenger. Are you his plaything?”
“No.” He looked away from her. It took him a moment to realize it was the same woman from behind the club that night. Beth. The one whose head had been twisted all the way around.
Her hand shot out and wrapped around his throat. “You’re not allowed to lie to me,” she snapped. “Is he your master?”
His mouth opened, his jaw shaking as he said, “No.” It wasn’t his usual brain-to-mouth filter issue. This was different. Painful. Like the answer was being squeezed out of him. He snapped his mouth shut, still refusing to look at her.
“Are you his toy?” She pulled down the neck of his hoodie, smirking as she observed his bite marks.
