Page 96 of The Player
He reached into his jacket pocket, and my whole body went into freefall, my breaths rapid and panic-stricken as I waited for him to pull a knife or gun on me, but he didn’t. He took out a pen and a folded piece of paper.
When he saw my fear, he laughed.
“You thought I was gonna pull a weapon on you?” His voice was taunting, mocking me. “Haven’t you heard? The pen is mightier than the sword. And you’re about to prove that.”
“I’m not doing anything for you, you fucking maniac,” I snarled back at him, and again, he smirked and chuckled to himself.
“It’s funny you think you have a choice.” He threw the pen and paper down onto the sofa next to me. “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna write him a note, telling him how sorry you are that you had to leave. That you need some time on your own, and he shouldn’t try to find you. When you want to return, you will.” He paused, then with an evil grin he said, “You won’t. But he’ll work that out soon enough.”
“I’m not gonna do that. I’m not doing anything.” I pushed the pen and paper off the sofa, and he rolled his eyes and picked them up. In that split second, I managed to slide my hands down the back of the sofa, feeling the cool handle of the knife I’d put there days ago.
“You can do it yourself,” he said, throwing the pen and paper back to me. “Or I have one pre-written here in my pocket that I can use instead.” He patted his jacket pocket to indicate where. “Either way works for me, but I thought I’d be nice. Do you a favour and let you write it yourself.”
“What are you gonna do to me?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him as I leaned forward, trying to distract him so he wouldn’t notice my arm hiding the knife behind my back.
“I’m gonna use you to teach him a lesson.”
“Which is?” I was stalling for time. Waiting for the right moment.
“That there’s no such thing as hope. Hope can be given, but it can be taken away just as fast. And that’s what you are to him… hope. He thinks he has a future, but he doesn’t. He needs to learn that life has a way of coming back around full circle. I spent twenty years hoping, waiting for him to fulfil a promise. Now he’s gonna spend the next twenty with nothing but hope. Hope that you’ll come back. That he’ll find you or find out what happened to you. He won’t, by the way.”
He pulled out a huge hunting knife, and I gasped, drawing back as I stared at the serrated blade and tribal patterns carved into the metal. It was the kind of knife that made you nauseous when you looked at it. And thinking about what he’d do with it, how he’d use it on me, made an ice-cold knot twist in my gut, and my heart raced so hard it felt like my chest could explode. Sweat and fear trickled down my spine, and my hands grew clammy as I clutched the knife behind me. My knuckles ached from gripping it so hard, but I couldn’t show him how he was affecting me. I had to give the illusion of being calm.
“Do you want to know the best part?” he asked, running the blade across his cheek and down to his neck. “You’ll be right under his nose the whole time. When he goes outside, when he stands there smoking a cigarette, when he can’t be arsed to go upstairs so he takes a piss in the gardens where he thinks no one’s watching. You’ll be six feet under, and he’ll be pissing on your grave. Kind of poetic, don’t you think?”
The way he cackled sent shivers running right through me, like painful darts piercing my soul. I was immobilised with fear, trapped, suffocating under the pressure of when to make my move.
What if I’m not strong enough?
Not fast enough?
What if he overpowers me?
What if this is how it all ends?
“I thought you were better than that?” I taunted, lifting my chin in defiance, trying to play him at his own game while stalling for time. “You kill with purpose. There’s no real purpose here. Your whole hope speech is just bullshit.”
“IT’S NOT BULLSHIT!” he snapped, his cool façade dropping momentarily, before he took a deep breath, grinned, and cracked his head from side to side, righting himself. “The Gods visit the sins of the fathers upon their children,” he stated calmly, then he sneered, “That’s Euripides, by the way. Not that I’d expect you to know that.”
He placed the hunting knife on the coffee table and smirked at me.
“I’ll give you another quote,” he said, my relief at the knife being away from him well hidden as I leant forward. “Question everything. Learn something. Answer nothing.” He paused and glared at me. “I learned a long time ago that your boyfriend doesn’t keep his promises, but I’ll keep mine. I promise to make it quick for you when I slice that blade across your throat. You’ll barely feel a thing.”
“I have another Euripides quote for you,” I spat back, and he raised his brow at me, curious for what I’d say next. “The greatest pleasure in life… is love.” And with that, I launched myself off the sofa and lunged at him, swinging the knife from behind my back and stabbing it right into his chest.
He stumbled backwards, looking down at the kitchen knife sticking out of his ribs, and then he let out an almighty roar, dropped his head and began to cackle with laughter.
“Nicely played, Masters. I always knew you had more about you than your spineless father.”
I spun around, heading for the door, but he grabbed my arm, pulling at me to try and stop me from escaping. He was weakened though, and I soon shrugged him off.
I raced to the door, grappling at the lock, and then I flung it open, dashing out into the hallway and heading right for the emergency staircase.
I didn’t turn around to see if he was following me. I couldn’t focus on anything other than getting out of the building, my hand skating along the stair rail as I used it to keep me steady, jumping down the steps two and three at a time. I stumbled over a step, but I didn’t care about the resulting shot of pain that flashed through my ankle. I blocked the pain out. It was a small price to pay for my life. And the faster I got to the bottom, the more chance I had to get help.
When I made it to the ground floor, I threw my whole body against the fire door, bursting through it to fall out onto the street on the other side. And as if the angels were shining their light on me, I fell hard into a body coming from the opposite direction. As I grabbed the stranger’s arms and begged him to help me, I looked up into his face and saw my Will gazing back at me. His eyes were rimmed with tears, and his mouth formed words that I couldn’t hear.
I let myself fall further into him, losing myself in the comfort of his arms, his smell, the sound of his voice telling me it’d be okay.
