by Nicole Thorn
I couldn’t be positive on why she reacted the way she had, but it unnerved me to see the pure fear in her eyes. It nearly made me unlock her, but Anastasia couldn’t be trusted. Not this girl.
When I took the cuffs off, Anastasia immediately shifted. She turned from me, her top moved up her hip.
I got out of my bed.
I changed my clothes, and went into the kitchen to start making breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes.
I heard a soft sigh from my bed, and turned to look. Anastasia threw the blankets off and sat up, only to flip upside down and stretch out all of her limbs. She had a leg hanging over the side of the bed, and a tiny smile on her lips.
Odd little thing.
A few minutes after the bacon hit the pan, Anastasia woke up and started circling the kitchen like a shark.
“Morning,” I said.
“Yup.” Her eyes focused on me. She walked around the counter separating the kitchen from the rest of the room.
Anastasia poked me in the ribs. Over and over again. I handed her what she wanted, and Anastasia started nibbling on the bacon as opposed to annoying me.
When I finished cooking, I turned all of the dials off and quickly spun around to Anastasia. I snagged her under her arms, and set her on the counter.
“What the hell?” she yelled in my ear.
I yanked her shirt up. “I need to check on your burn again.” I ripped the bandage off of her, and threw it in the trash.
“You are so—”
“Handsome? Thank you.” I laughed through her quiet string of curses.
The burn had nearly healed. I ran my fingers over the two almost undetectable marks. “You heal quickly,” I thought aloud.
“Yeah, I coulda told you that, dumbass. You didn’t need to be so rough with me.”
I rose up and put my face close to hers. I spoke softly, “You’ve not seen me get rough with you yet.”
Anastasia brushed my cheek and then neck with the tips of her fingers. She pulled me a little closer to her, and said into my ear, “Well, you’re about to see me get rough with you.” Before I could stop her, she put her foot on my stomach and launched me into the opposite counter. My body hit the edge, but the pain wasn’t too bad. Not enough for me to want to hurt her back. This time.
She hopped off the counter, and took another piece of bacon before collecting some clothes and disappearing into the bathroom.
I didn’t have a table to eat at, so I just made my bed and set the food on it.
Anastasia walked back out of the bathroom with damp hair. She wore one of the dresses I bought her, a sundress. Dark red and short. It complemented her pure white skin rather than washing her out.
Instead of normal straps, this dress had one that went around the back of her neck. The front dipped low on her chest, revealing a small mole or freckle on the top of her right breast that I wanted to get acquainted with.
The dress made me want to taste the salt of her skin. Dangerous thoughts came into my mind, and I had to dismiss them. Anastasia was off limits. Not good to mix business and pleasure… no matter how pleasurable.
“What?” the girl asked when she caught me staring.
I shrugged.
“I just love the fact that you’re using me as your own personal Barbie doll to dress up and play with until you’re finished.”
I snapped back to life. “I’ll have you know I’m a gentleman. I never finish anything before a lady does. Sometimes two or three times.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Ah, is that why you want me so bad? You wanna misbehave” I grabbed her by the hips, and pulled her to me. I still sat on the bed, which put me eye level with her stomach.
Anastasia didn’t move as I slowly slid my hand up her leg and side. My eyes skimmed the length of her body until they met hers. She didn’t look scared, or angry, or even turned on. She looked more sad than anything else.
I stopped moving my hand up, and set it on her hip.
“Don’t do that just to prove a point. Dick.”
I took my hand out from under her dress and moved back. “I—” I started to say.
“Didn’t happen.” She waved her hands. “Okay?”
I nodded, and moved aside to make room for her.
She sat next to me and started eating from the plate I made her.
After breakfast, she spread out on the bed again, when I went to put the dishes up. Limbs sprawled every which way.
“Are you going to let me back on my bed?” I stood over her.
She wiggled her toes. “Dunno. Maybe you should have bought some furniture for this sad little place. That way we wouldn’t have to be so damn close all the time.”
“I can just move you,” I pointed out.
Anastasia stuck her tongue out at me.
Fine then.
I shoved one hand under her back and the other under her thighs. Then I rolled her onto the ground. She landed with a thud, and I sat back down on my bed. I crossed my ankles and put my hands behind my head.
Anastasia popped back up, slightly disheveled. She had fire in her blue eyes
“Told ya.” I shrugged.
I almost laughed when her anger grew. So much fury and nowhere to put it.
Then Anastasia hit me in the face with a pillow. She crawled across the bed and straddled my lap as she hit me a few more times.
“You! Are! So! Annoying!” she yelled in between acts of violence.
I took the pillow from her and tossed it aside before I flipped Anastasia onto her back. I held her hands down with my own, so she wouldn’t take a swing at me.
“I told you.” My voice sounded stern. “This can be easy or hard. If you fight me on everything, this will be very hard on you. I promise.”
She wiggled under me. “Why not fight? You’re going to kill me either way.”
“True, but you can make your last days a little more pleasant. If I let you go, do you promise to play nice?”
“Sure.” I got off of her, and she punched me in the arm. “Now I’ll play nice.”
I rubbed the spot she hit and focused on not attacking her.
Anastasia sat on my bed and pouted silently. After the first ten minutes, I gave up and started reading. I could feel her eyes burning into me, but I didn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing that I knew.
When her stomach growled, I finally turned to her. “Hungry again?”
“No,” she lied, and her stomach betrayed her.
I set the book down and stood up. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“I’m taking you on a date,” I said sarcastically.
“What?”
Full of questions. “I’m taking you out to lunch, you mouthy girl. Stand up or I’ll carry you.”
She grudgingly stood up and slipped her shoes on. “You’re trusting me to be out?”
“Yes.” I closed the space between us. “Because if you try and run, I’ll hunt you down and kill you immediately. And then, since you still haven’t told me any information to make me think your friends are not threats, I’ll kill them too.”
“You are a terrible person.” She crossed her arms over her chest, framing her assets beautifully.
“I’m not a person,” I grabbed my helmet, and pulled her out the door.
She paused when we got to my motorcycle, and I handed her the helmet. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Get on.”
Anastasia eyed me. “I’m not sitting in the Bitch Seat, Ezra. Don’t you have a car?”
“No, and if it’ll make you feel better, when people ask I’ll be sure to let them know you are most certainly not my bitch.”
“I’m supposed to just hold on to you—in a dress by the way—the whole way there?”
I shrugged. “If you don’t hold on, then you’ll be splattered against the pavement and both of our problems would be over.”
“Fine,” she said through her teeth. Anastasia put the helmet on and we got on the motorcycle. He
r hands tentatively went around my waist. Her knees pressed into my sides, and I could feel her worry.
I turned my head back slightly. “You’ll survive this, little zombie. I assure you.”
“Ah, such a comfort you are.”
I started driving without warning her first, and she tightened herself around me. When I parked, she finally peeled herself off of me and handed me my helmet. She ran her fingers through her hair to try and fix it.
I put my hand on her back and led her inside.
The hostess seated us at a booth, and I forced Anastasia to sit next to me—trapping her between my body and the wall.
She rested her head in her hand and looked utterly miserable.
“Tell me about your friends,” I ordered.
“Bite me.” I sighed. “Tell me. I need to be sure that they won’t be a problem when you die again.”
Anastasia looked bored with me. “I don’t know what they can and can’t do. Me either for that matter. So asking me a dozen times won’t do you any good.”
“I’m Ramona,” a woman said. I turned to see a girl with short hot pink hair holding a notepad and rolling on skates. “What can I get you, sir?”
“Cheeseburger with everything on the side. And an ice water.”
“And what can I get you?” she asked my angry companion.
Anastasia looked up. “The police.” She pointed at me. “This man kidnapped me and is holding me against my will.”
The waitress laughed, and I followed suit. “My Anna, always a kidder. She’ll have the same as me.” I put my hand on her knee.
The woman nodded and skated away.
“You have a nickname for me now?” Anna snapped.
“Yes. Anastasia is a bit of a mouthful. Don’t you think?”
“It insinuates a closeness we don’t have,” she decided.
I ran my hand up her leg, leaning to her. “Do you not want to be close to me, Anna?”
Her breath came quickly.
“No,” she said unconvincingly.
I couldn’t help but notice Anna didn’t ask me to move my hand away. I waited and waited, but we stayed locked in a steadfast gaze.
My hand was still incredibly close to a very delicate place when the waitress came back with our food. She dropped it off, and didn’t bother saying a word to us.
Anna finally looked away to start eating. I removed my hand and did the same.
We sat in silence through the meal. She had an odd ability to distract me. “Is there nothing I can do to get you to tell me about the power you and your friends have?”
Anna considered it. “Maybe if you bought me ice cream, I could tell you something.”
I tapped my fingers against the table.
“A hot fudge sundae.” She smiled.
I had to appease a child to do my job. How the mighty have fallen.
When the waitress came back to take our plates, I said, “Can I order a hot fudge sundae for my girlfriend please?” I used the word just to annoy Anna. Judging by the kick I got for it, I’d say it worked.
“Extra fudge,” Anna said.
The waitress left and came back with a massive serving of ice cream that Anna looked far too small to finish. She scooped up a spoon full of fudge, and fearlessly put it in her mouth.
“So?” I said.
“Still don’t know anything.”
Anger rose in my body. “Are you kidding me? I’m trying to accommodate you, and all you give me is trouble.”
Anna scoffed. “So sorry that I’m not helping the person who keeps promising to kill me. But, tell ya what, I’ll give you something.”
I waited.
“I’ll tell you everything I know. I don’t want my friends on your list.” She put her spoon down. “I was in Hell with Caroline and my head started hurting. Then a few minutes later, I felt like I died again, and then I woke up in my coffin.” A hint of fear leaked into her voice. “I tried to get out. I couldn’t. I screamed, and the coffin split open.” Her eyes turned distant. “Dirt buried me, and I dug my way out. I don’t know how my powers work or how to use them. My friends do, but I don’t know to what extent.”
So, they might have been a threat. If I told Rupert what she said, he might order their deaths. I didn’t know for sure.
“Is that everything you know?” I asked as Anna took another bite of ice cream.
“Yeah.”
That was it. All I needed from her. If I wanted to, I could kill her here and now.
I didn’t bring my dagger with me. I didn’t know why. It usually went everywhere with me.
When we got back to my loft I could do it. I’d make it quick. As painless as I could.
I’d admit that in the past I’d taken great pleasure in most of my kills. I’d get no joy from this girl’s death. She infuriated me to no end, but when I looked at her, I saw a victim. None of this had been her fault, despite what she thought.
Anna somehow managed to finish the whole serving of ice cream. I paid, and we left.
***
As we walked into my loft, I felt like the Huntsman about to murder Snow White.
Anna kicked her shoes off, and floated over to my bed. She lied down on her stomach and picked up the book I had left there. “What’s this?”
“It’s Dante’s Inferno.”
Her hands traveled over the ancient leather.
“It’s not in English.”
“Gaelic,” I said as I went to lean against the dresser. My dagger rested on top of it.
“How old is this?”
“My father gave it to me, and his father gave it to him. God knows how many generations that went on for.” It ended with me. I had been the oldest son, so the book went to me. Though I was the only one who never had children.
“Would you read a little to me before bed? It might help me fall asleep with the cuffs on.”
This girl… How was it possible that she caused me pain? It took me decades to master the art of the blissful numbness that got me through the long days of my endless life. This girl threatened to undo it.
“Okay,” I lied. She’d be dead long before nightfall.
Anna set the book down and rested her head on her folded arms. Her eyes closed, but she didn’t fall asleep. I hoped she would. At least that way I wouldn’t have to look into her eyes as my blade took her from this earth.
Why do I feel guiltily over killing this annoying little girl? I just needed to remember how she made me feel. How she poked at me until I gave her bacon. How she kicked me into a cabinet, hit me with a pillow. Not when she somehow managed to bat back the snide remarks I threw at her. Or how I stopped breathing when I saw her in that little blue number.
I turned from Anna, and stared down at my dagger. I thought about the thousands of lives I’d taken with it. How it’d served me well over the years. I picked it up and felt the sharp edge against my thumb. It never dulled; some kind of magic from Lucifer.
I held the blade in my hand as I quietly moved toward the bed.
Anna looked utterly helpless as she laid on my bed. As long as she didn’t face me, I could do this.
Just as the thought escaped me, Anna rolled over. She kept her eyes closed as she put her hands behind her head.
Dammit.
I raised my hand to just get this over with.
I paused when a thought came to mind. This damn girl, this annoying little witch had given me nothing but trouble. Why should I trust that she told me the truth when she said she knew nothing? She’d given me no reason to believe her.
I obviously needed more information.
I couldn’t kill her yet. I still needed her.
Maybe a few more days of questions, and I could get a real answer out of Anna. Plus, if I kill her too soon, Rupert might think I wasn’t really trying to get the information that he needed. Best not to anger the boss.
I put the dagger away, and got into bed next to Anna. Her eyes finally opened, and she sat up.
Anna looked like a litt
le doll in that dress. Long blonde hair and eyes so blue that an angel would’ve been jealous of her. She looked too perfect to be real.
Chapter Nine: Journal
Anastasia
I woke up as Ezra walked out of the bathroom—shirtless—and drying his hair with a towel.
Don’t look, Annie. Don’t let yourself think he’s hot. It’s really messed up to be attracted to a murderer.
He caught me staring. A smirk appeared on his face. “I’ve got some errands to run today. I’m afraid I needed to leave you cuffed for the morning.”
Terror flooded me. “Alone?”
“Well, yes. You can’t go where I’m going. Not yet anyway.” He tossed the towel aside, then went to his dresser.
“I’m going to be locked to this bed all day?”
He turned his head back. “Not all day. A few hours. I’ve got different cuffs for that.” He pulled out a pair that appeared to be a few feet long. I didn’t want to know what he used those for.
“I’m going to cuff your leg to the bed. That way you’ve got your hands free, for whatever you might do to pass the time.” He smiled crookedly again.
I grumbled and tried not to turn red. “I still hate you.”
“Still not my problem. Go eat, shower, whatever you need to do. I’m leaving soon, and I’ll lock you up if you’re ready or not.”
I did as he said. I made the shower quick and I changed into one of the dresses he bought. It was short like the last one, but dark blue. When I got out of the bathroom, I grabbed a bottle of water and a box of snack cakes.
“Lie down,” Ezra said. He had put a shirt on while I showered. Damn.
I crossed my arms and arched my eyebrow. “Make me,” I challenged him.
“Gladly.” He moved quickly, gripping the backs of my thighs and pulling me upward so that I fell back on the mattress. Ezra swung me around and put a cuff on my ankle, then the metal post at the end of the bed. “Now, was that so hard?”
“Yes.”
“Consider it revenge for you forcing me to watch three hours of Sister Wives last night.” He sat down on the bed and started tying his boots.
“That show is fascinating. Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it.”
