Page 72 of The Guru: Shadow
“You are funny, Emma. The hell I will.”
“Oh, you will. Because I made the FME last night. So, here’s the thing: you hurt me, kill me, or anything else, the kit will be logged in, and not to forget, I have cameras installed in my apartment, did I not mention?”
As his face fell for a fraction of a second, she added, “Well, not I, but Deis. And he has the recordings. So, spill now and I will just oversee the fact, that you kidnapped, threatened, and assaulted me.”
Carl tilted his head slightly and considered her with some form of curiosity.
“You are much bolder than you let on, sweetheart.”
She could sense danger everywhere. His voice, his eyes, were controlled while raging inside.
“Spit it out, Carl. Who are you? What do you want, really? Who’s paying you? Why me? Why Julie?”
“So many questions.”
And he brushed his thumb over her lips.
“Not a comparison to what the cops will ask you.”
With force, he pushed his thumb into her mouth.
“The cops won’t ask me anything. I’ve done worse, believe me.”
Urgh, disgusting!
“Such a lovely mouth.”
Deep down, something about this whole fucked-up situation thrilled her. And that thrill made her daring. So, she bit into his thumb with all the power she had.
He, however, did not react.
“Senseless dear. Hurt me all you want; I don’t feel any of it.”
“Just because you don’t feel it doesn’t mean it’s not hurting your body.”
And because she talked, she had to let go of the thumb, and he immediately pulled it out, leaving red imprints from her teeth.
“Julie was an assignment. She knows stuff my employer wants.”
“Who’s your employer?” she asked.
“None of your business.”
“Who are you? Not Carl Pearson, the physicist.”
“No. More like the Carl Pearson, the hitman.” And with that, a malevolent smile spread over his face. “You will be such a beautiful thing to tear apart,” he whispered as his hand wandered around her throat. “Now, talk, bitch.”
Normally, she would’ve panicked. Probably. At least that’s what she thought would be a reasonable reaction to the situation she found herself in. But Carl did not see the shadow noiselessly enter and hide behind a poster – the master hunter in his natural habitat.
“I don’t think so.”
She tried to make as much noise as possible, stall Carl, and keep his attention on her. He now pressed his gun directly against her forehead. He stood so near her that she could scent the heavy perfume engulfing her once again.
“You’ll talk now, or–”
“She won’t do any of the such,” came Deis’ voice out of the darkness, it took him three big steps to reach them, his gun pointing straight at Carl’s head.
Deis was not an unhinged version, but his true self – the hunter staring at his real prey, about to attack any second. His body language shouted murder. The way he looked was so dangerous some people might just faint from it.