Page 12 of Captive Souls
For a moment, I thought of my parents, cataloging my memories of them. Not a single one was pleasant. They were all thorny and painful.
“No,” I decided. “Death doesn’t do that to people. TV does. Some people lie, doing whatever it takes, to be on TV.” I pause, nibbling on a dry piece of skin on my lip. “Although I do hope people lie for the airtime. I don’t want to be remembered as a bitch. I’m not a bitch. But if Trina decides to make up stories about me on national TV… well, I guess I won’t be around to care, will I?”
I rubbed my amethyst ring again, harder this time. I then fingered the onyx necklace I’d put on for protection as I’d hastily packed. As if lumps of rock could protect me in any way from this man beside me.
We lapsed into silence for a long while, me looking out the window, contemplating my fate and trying to best my bladder.
But there was only so long I could do that.
“I need to pee.” I eventually broke the long, cold, ominous quiet.
It felt infinitely embarrassing, admitting I had bodily functions to a man who seemed to be made of stone. But it was either that or wet myself.
He didn’t say anything except a slight incline of his head that I guessed was a nod.
I started to squirm in my seat as he pulled off at an exit.
Not very modest of me, nor attractive, that I was a thirty-something, childless woman who had trouble controlling her bladder. But I shouldn’t have been worrying about being attractive to this man in the first place.
My hand was on the handle before he came to a full stop, seat belt unbuckled. I was about to leap out when a band circled around my wrist.
My bursting bladder was momentarily forgotten as I looked down at a large, pale hand clutching my wrist. It made mine look tiny, dainty. And I did not have dainty limbs like my sister. The grip was tight, painful. I knew that he could snap the bone in a moment, if he wanted to.
My skin exploded with sensation at the contact between us. Not all of it was unpleasant. This close I couldn’t deny the … presence he had. It blanketed me like a shadow. His eyes were even more vibrant this close, glittering.
“You know, it would be a bad idea to try anything in there.” He nodded to the gas station. It was busy, one of the nicer establishments that boasted snacks and knickknacks. A place I normally would’ve been overjoyed to look around, buying a cheap shot glass or some sort of tacky fridge magnet or tee.
People walked in and out, parents chasing children, truck drivers clutching extra-large cups, people living normal lives that weren’t under threat of their family being murdered.
“I know.” I turned my head to him. “As hard as it may be for you to believe, I’m not actually worried about finding help right now that isn’t in the form of a porcelain throne. And even if that weren’t the case, I’m not that stupid. Nowlet me go.”
My voice was cold and commanding, partly because of my overwhelming need to not wet myself in front of this man and also because I was pissed off.
He held me a beat longer, as if to show he could, that he was in control. He could hold me here and watch me pee in my pants if he wanted to. For a second, I thought he would. It’s not like he was any kind of gentleman.
But thankfully, he let me go.
I didn’t hesitate, darting out the door.
No matter how tempting it was to run for the state trooper I’d just seen pull up, I went to the bathroom instead.
Knox
I watched her walk into the gas station.
More accurately, I watched her ass walk into the gas station. It was the perfect size, perky, big, and I couldn’t stop myself from imagining my hands on it, the way I would slap it when taking her from behind.
The thought was a foreign invader in my mind, unwelcome and unusual as I never had sexual feelings about people.
She rushed past the state trooper without so much as a glance. Granted, she was desperate to use the bathroom; she’d been squirming in her seat for a while. I imagined her skin underneath my palm, warm, soft, breakable. I had the urge to do that, break her.
My hands twitched for the knife at my ankle. The need to grab it, slice it through the skin of my arm in order to let out thepoison of those thoughts. But I didn’t have enough time. She’d notice. She’d notice because she looked at me. Right at me.
Very few people did that.
Three, in fact. My brother, Stone, and more recently, my brother’s woman, Avery.
Everyone else on the planet, in my world and on top of it, averted their eyes. Even if they didn’t know who I was, didn’t understand my reputation, some primal part of human nature understood what I was. People avoided me. Gave me a wide berth on even the most crowded sidewalks.