Page 21 of Nine of Swords
Blade
Two MonthsLater
I glanceover at Sydney as she sits at her home office desk working on a trade after dinner. It’s a small, hand-carved wooden desk, placed in the far corner of the quant little cottage I own on a tiny island off of Bonaire, near South America. Right above it, we hung her set of nine blades. She often reminds me that wherever she hangs those knives, she feels at home.
And I fucking love that she thinks that way.
Just as promised, I called in every favor and moved heaven and earth, and now, we’re together. Talk about moving fast. But sometimes, when two people are right for each other, things move at lightning speed and that’s okay.
A shit storm rained down on us after Sydney received that letter from a man who we still haven’t identified. But he showed enough of his hand to get our attention, and to spur us both into action. In a way, I should thank him for that. His message cleared a path and forced us to accept that unless Sydney got far, far away from everything and everyone she knew, she’d never be safe.
I’ve take the letter from Sydney and I keep it locked up so that she doesn’t re-read it. No expectant mother should ever be terrorized like that.
But for me, it’s become my central focus. Every day since we arrived here, I wait until Sydney’s relaxing in the living room, reading a book or pouring over her tarot cards, then I take a minute to read it from beginning to end. I want to memorize every word and have the fear of God in me so that I don’t become complacent.
With a child on the way, we can’t afford to be.
Tonight, as she’s working, I retreat to the small shed I use as a workshop at the back of the property. Carefully opening the lockbox that I keep hidden behind some power tools, I unfold the sheets of paper and read each word intently.
To:Miss Sydney Tabitha Adams, nee Rowan.
If you’re readingthis letter, it means I am coming for you. It’s a pity you won’t ever see me coming, though. But that might be a blessing for you and your unborn child.
By the way, congratulation on your pregnancy. I'm tempted to spare your life for at least a few years so you can come to love your child and then have them witness your death. I would like nothing more than to cause your last thought to be your biggest fear, your most confounding question:
Willmy child grow up after I’m gone or will they die with me?
You can thankyour late grandfather for this legacy. He’s responsible for the death of many and the intimidation of countless more. Just so you’re aware, he did this to my family and me when I was only six years old. And do you know what’s really the kicker? No matter how much research and digging around you do, you’ll never find me. Why? Because there are too many victims in your grandfather’s wake. More than you or the father of your unborn child will ever uncover in your lives.
Be happy that I allowed you a full ten years with your parents. It was a charitable action on my part, because I had sworn that I would take out my revenge on every remaining member of his family and his descendants in the same way he had done to me.
You are the only one left. You were. Now, I have a renewed motivation to stick around for another ten years. I can infiltrate your life again, hire people to hack into your life, even your most private moments, create chaos, gain your trust, and have you question whether or not there’s anyone in this world you can rely on. But for next time, it would be to take your life while the most important piece of yourself looks on.
You might be thinking to yourself, what did I ever do to you? The answer, I know, is nothing. Even your parents believed they were innocent. But this is a cruel world, and you need to understand that no one is innocent.
Sometimes life isn’t fair, and I am sorry that you got the short end of the stick.
But like the tarot cards you so enjoy playing with, such is the way things go.
To wrap things up with a neat little bow, I want to wish you the best of luck.
You will need it.
Sincerely,
Your one trueenemy
Like each time before,by the end of the letter, my hands are shaking and my rage is through the roof. The company I worked for took money from this insane, evil man who betrayed us all. The man hides behind anonymity, playing the justified victim card. But he won’t ever get an opening to do harm to Sydney or our child. I won’t allow it. And whoever comes looking will be in a world of trouble if they ever find us.
Returning the letter, I lock up and head back inside. I’m not afraid. I’m ready.
Putting it out of my mind, I walk in my front door to find Sydney standing a few feet from the doorway, looking hot as a five-alarm fire in only a red lacy bra and a pair of bright red sky-high stilettos. Her body doesn’t show her pregnant state yet, but I can’t fucking wait to see her in exactly this same outfit, sporting a baby bump.
She dangles her encrypted phone in front of me in one hand. It’s like the one I gave her all those weeks ago. We had to dispose of the other one, to ensure we kept off the radar. She smiles at me playfully and shows me the locked screen. “I sent you something naughty, baby. Did you see it?”
Scooping her up into my arms, I carry her to our bedroom. “Listen to me, hot stuff. The only time I’ll want a naughty pic of you is if you’re not right here beside me. And that’s never happening. Got it?”
She gives me a one-sided smile and nods, resting her head on my chest. “I kind of like being your dirty girl.”
“You’re always going to be my sexy little slut,” I tell her, lowering her feet to the floor beside the bed. “You can count on it. Get over there and shake that sweet ass for me, pet.”
As she heads over to the middle of the bedroom, giggling like a teenage schoolgirl, I smile and sit on the bed, hard and ready for another perfect ending to each new day of our happily ever after, complete with naughty sinful, sexy exploits.
THE END
