Page 5 of Misted
If I use my knife, I’d kill him and we don’t need blood in Le Salon right now, especially since the police are watching our every move.
I grab a lamp and throw it at his back. He screams like a schoolboy with a grown man’s voice. As he staggers backwards, Jessica scrambles from underneath him, crawls to the other end of the bed, and hugs her knees to her chest.
“What the fuck?” The man swings a fist back at me when I’m within arm’s reach. He’s obviously new blood or he wouldn’t have dared to touch the girls under my roof.
I grab his arm and twist it behind his back. He’s bigger than me, but I’ve dealt with bigger and more trained opponents. I shove my leg into his back, using it as leverage and yank his arm backwards.
He screeches in pain as his shoulder pops from its joints. I suppress a smirk at the sound of the scum’s agony as he falls on the floor, wailing.
I’m not done.
Not even close.
I reach for the pointy knife sheathed under my dress. The black, cold hilt sends the familiar, consuming thrill through my veins.
Fuck the police and fuck the ‘no killing’ rule on Le Salon’s grounds. I’ll murder this arsehole and throw his rotten body in the sea.
“You fucking bitch.” The man snarls, still holding his injured shoulder while sitting on the carpeted floor. The knife doesn’t seem to faze him. Most powerful men think they’re too untouchable that no one would dare hurt them.
He messed with the wrong person.
“Do you know who I am?” A foam of spit spills from the corner of his thin mouth. “I’ll send you behind the sun for fucking eternity.”
I smile like a plastic doll, caressing the hilt of my knife as if it’s a pet. “You can’t do that when you’re dead, now can you?”
The scum must’ve realised I’m serious since he swallows and sweat beams on his forehead. “I’m the secretary of the cabinet –”
I crouch in front of him and hold the blade to his throat. “Too bad I don’t care.”
He gulps audibly and the knife cuts through the skin. “P-please.”
“When she told you please, did you listen to her?” My voice becomes louder, and I feel the demons of my past crowding the space. I stand up and kick him in the ribs with my pointy heel. Over and over until he’s curled in a ball, wheezing like a kid. “Did you listen, you scum?” Kick. “Did you stop?” Kick. “Did you?”
I’m about to finish his miserable life when soft, trembling hands touch my arm. Jessica stares up at me with tear-streaked mascara and haunted blue eyes. Her small voice is barely audible when she speaks. “He’s really important and can hurt you.”
No one can. The only two capable of that are long gone.
But I also can’t kill this bastard in front of her when she’s already traumatised.
That’s the only thing that saves him.
I sheath my knife, place an arm on her shoulder, and gently lead her shaking body out of the room. Two guards must’ve heard what happened since they rush my way.
“Clean it up inside,” I tell them while walking Jessica away from the chaos. Sarah intercepts us halfway. Both girls crush each other in a hug and cry aloud.
Seeing their tears causes my own mood to blacken. I would do anything to stop it, but I’m complete rubbish at providing comfort. So I stand awkwardly on the side.
In my peripheral vision, a blonde in a fuchsia tulle skirt sprints down the hall with a huge smile on her face.
My mood flips from awkwardness to murderous.
I take Sarah and Jessica to their room and tell them to find me if they need anything.
“Thank you.” Sarah draws stuttering breaths through her hiccoughs. “We’re so glad you took over.”
Jessica’s gaze appears haunted. “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you didn’t come. He… he…”
I clutch her shoulder, harder than I’m supposed to. I’m so used to being rough, sometimes I forget that these girls didn’t lead a life similar to mine. “Just rest, okay? Take a few days off and then we’ll talk.”