Page 89 of Isle of Seduction
Louis just shrugs and kisses me quickly. My shoulders lock up on instinct and I force them to relax.
“What’s the beauty in that? I needed to act quickly. Make you realise no one can love you like I do. Not your exes and not your fake husband. I know you didn’t marry him for love. You could never marry a man like him.”
I don’t know what he means by that, but I don’t ask. If Louis thinks killing people I briefly dated was a beautiful gesture of love, he could kill me for displeasing him at any moment.
The rest of the day is spent between preparing divorce papers and a new marriage licence. When he’s distracted, I study my surroundings, noting weapons, knives, and everything I will need to kill him.
Tonight, Louis Marshall will take his last breath. And I will be the one to drag his soul to Hell.
THIRTY-SIX
TONIGHT, A MAN WILL DIE
The day drags on, but when the light outside dims, my blood buzzes with anxious energy. I volunteered to cook our dinner. Anything to make sure I don’t eat what a man other than my husband prepared for me. My movements are slow because of my busted shoulder, but I make due.
I’m busy cutting spring onions to add to the sizzling oil when Louis comes behind me and fuses his body to mine. His hands roam over my hips and I pretend I don’t notice. My knuckles blanch as I grip the knife handle harder.
Sweat glistens on my brow, and a drop follows the line of my spine. I grit my teeth but continue my task.
He becomes bolder and gropes my breast in a vicious grip that has me whimpering in pain. It’s nothing like the edge I get with the man who shares my life.
When his fingers come down to open the button and zipper of my jeans, I protest. I don’t want this. I know my survival depends on my submission right now, but I can’t have a repeat of this morning. I won’t survive that.
“Stop, Louis, I’m cooking.”
“You’ll continue later, I need to be inside you, right now, baby.”
“My shoulder is too painful,” I whine, hoping he’ll be sensitive to my pain.
I should know better.
“You don’t have to move,” he replies.
Shivers of dread on my skin mix with an icy fire underneath and I whirl around, using the knife in my hand to slice at his stomach. It’s too small to do real damage, but Louis jumps back, giving me space to grab the pan with my injured arm and throw it at his face, the burning oil splashing in between us.
He yelps and recoils more into the open living room, his cry of pain filling up the room and drowning the sound of the jazz music he put on, like the fucking pretentious prick he is.
“You fucking bitch!”
In seconds, he finds his footing again and draws his gun from behind him. The bullet whizzes next to my head and I dart back to the bedroom, pan and knife in hand.
That’s the worst idea I’ve ever had. I’ll be a rabbit ready to be killed in there, but he’s harmed and I’m not. My shoulder bleeds again with the exertion but I barely feel it, adrenaline inciting me to move faster, find a solution, escape.
“You’re going to regret this,” Louis yells from behind me, his heavy steps following close.
An earsplitting noise explodes, leaving me deaf for a short second, and when I turn around, eyes wide and heart in my throat, someone in cameo gear tackles Louis to the ground, effectively blocking my view of my aggressor.
I freeze as two more people in black tactical clothes harmed to the teeth enter the house. My fists are clenching tight around the handles of my wannabe weapons, and my breathing is coming hard. I’m having trouble breathing in, black threatening to take me under and clouding the edges of my vision, but I don’t let go.
One of the men walks towards me and I brandish the small knife with my right hand, the left starting to numb under the weight of the hot pan. “Don’t come any closer.”
Slowly, the person drops their rifle to the ground, crouching low and moving fluidly as if to not startle me. Too late. I’m rattled to my core, ready to carve within anyone with the poor excuse of a knife I cling to.
Their hands lift to the goggles, and they remove it from their face.
Warm honey.
The colour I know intimately.