Persie Merlin and the Witch Hunters - Bella Forrest Page 0,83
person te person, instead of usin’ threats and violence. Believe it or not, I ain’t a violent person. It hurts te see what I’ve become. This curse has made me… desperate. This ain’t who I am.”
“And yet here I am, bound and kidnapped again.”
He nodded slowly. “I knew ye wouldn’t come voluntarily, so I had te resort te this. But I’m goin’ te set ye loose again soon, and I’ll give yer phone back and all.” He leaned forward, making me instinctively sink back into the velvet sofa. “I just need yer help, and I hope ye’ll agree. Not for me, but for the other people who are gettin’ hurt because of this curse.”
I had no idea what to say to that. Was this some sort of tactic to butter me up? He clearly knew that if he asked for help for himself, I would laugh in his face. Maybe this was just a trick to get me to help him.
But maybe he really meant it. After all, it was the same thing he’d said during my first kidnapping, before the incident with Genie had even taken place. And now I’d felt firsthand what that curse could do. The panic. The terror.
He shuffled closer, producing a switchblade from the pocket of his black jeans. The air rushed out of my lungs as he leaned in, the blade glinting in the light. Had he decided that I wouldn’t be a willing participant after all? And he’d have to resort to threats and violence again? Even if he claimed he wasn’t usually that sort of person.
“Here.” He tucked the blade under the ropes that bound my hands together and tugged upward, the ties coming loose. “I only tied ye up ‘cause I didn’t know if ye’d—” He didn’t get to finish the sentence as I lunged forward and socked him in the jaw. I grimaced at the impact, a splintering pain shooting up my arm from my already battered knuckles. I knew I wouldn’t be able to land another hit without injuring my hand further, but that one shot had felt unbelievably satisfying.
He massaged his jaw, wiggling it from side to side to make sure there wasn’t any proper damage. “I was goin’ te say, I only tied ye up ‘cause I didn’t know if ye’d punch me again. I deserved all of the blows ye landed the other day, so I ain’t goin’ te complain about it. If someone I cared about got hurt like that, there’d be nothin’ in this world that could stop me trying te punish whoever did it.”
I cradled my hand, urging the throbbing pain to go away. “I don’t know who you are or what you really want, but you can’t fool me. You can talk all you like; it doesn’t change what you did. You’re just lucky my hand is killing me, otherwise, there’d be more where that came from.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he replied with a pained smile. Still rubbing his jaw, he stood and wandered off into the trailer’s kitchenette. A moment later, he came back with a bag of frozen peas bundled in a kitsch tea towel that said, “What’s the only owl with boobs? A teet-owl.” He glanced down at it and made an apologetic face. “Sorry about the bad humor. It were the only one I could find, and I don’t want ye addin’ freezer burn to yer bruises.” He passed me the icy package, which I took reluctantly and laid over my hand.
“This doesn’t let you off any kind of hook,” I warned, unable to hide the sweet relief of the cold peas against my aching skin.
He nodded. “I don’t doubt that, either.” With a grunt that suggested he had some major bruises under his T-shirt, as well, he sank back down onto the sofa. “I’ll say it again, I hate what I did te yer friend. But the thing is, I stuck around after, hidin’ out of sight. Mostly, I wanted te make sure ye would be okay, even though that sounds mad. How could anyone be okay after their best friend had just taken a fatal blow, y’know? I saw ye in pain, and I wanted te see that, so I’d never forget the misery I created. Then… I saw that fella bring her back te life. It don’t change the wrong I did, but I know she ain’t dead no more. And I’m glad of that. For me own sake, sure, but also for yours.” He