end up? Cooped up just like this. Rats in a corner.
He taps the window. Gently. Catches her eyes. Still big as pinecones. This is working out fine.
He picks up a rock. Size of a cabbage. Heavy. Real heavy. He looks at her. Shrugs. Smashes the glass.
He pulls out his knife. A big bowie. Blade’s ten inches long. Overkill. He smiles at the thought. Blade’s silver. Shiny. Like you could blind a man—or a witch—with its reflection.
He uses the butt of the hilt to clear away pieces of glass still embedded in the frame. They pop out cleanly. Putty’s so old it crumbles like stale cake. He reaches through with his knife, pointing it while he talks, as if he’s giving voice to the gleaming weapon.
“Open the door.”
She grabs a wooden candelabra. The only thing she can find. He laughs.
“Open the door. If I have to climb in there, you’re going to pay.”
* * *
I’m going to pay anyway. She slaps her sides, searching again for her phone, even though she knows better. Still, she pleads with it to appear. She had it earlier, before she started running. It’s in your bag, where you always keep it. But it doesn’t matter: She’s miles from nowhere, and he’s taking apart the window pane by pane. Smashing it to pieces. Glass and wood chunks hit her. She can’t get away. Can’t breathe. Can’t even move enough to smash his hand with the candelabra. The world’s exploding, and she knows with shocking certitude that she’s about to be murdered in their house of meditation.
She shakes her head. A spell, she tells herself. Cast a spell. But her breath still won’t come. It feels like he’s already choking her to death.
Air freezes in her chest every time he shatters more glass. She hopes she dies before he touches her.
She thinks that may be her life’s final plea, that her body will choke her to death before his hands—and that knife—can touch her.
* * *
Jenna and Dafoe had eventually reached the bedroom and now looked as thoroughly disheveled as the covers. He propped himself on one elbow as she ran her fingertips across his chest. “I feel so ravished,” she said.
Dafoe moved aside strands of her wet hair. “Me, too.”
She shivered and grabbed the phone. “I should call Nicci and let her know I’ve ducked out. We always take a break right after the show, but this was a long one.”
Moments later Jenna watched him read a text message. He mouthed, “I’ve got to go.”
* * *
The candelabra rests by her side. It’s her only hope but she can’t lift it. She’s almost paralyzed by panic. She tries to breathe, and hears air whistle weakly through her chest. She manages to lift the candelabra, and thinks that if she could get one good swing at him, she might stop this madness. But she needs one good breath and she can’t get it. She keeps seeing the damage she knows the knife can do.
“You witches know about sacrifices, don’t you? They can’t be done too fast. You got to take your time. Get as much out of it as you can.”
He pauses and fear washes over her again.
“Sacrifices don’t happen every day. But I’m not telling you anything you don’t know.” He says this matter-of-factly and eases a leg through the window frame, casually, like he’s got all the time in the world.
And he does. This is what sickens her most: recognizing that whatever time she has left belongs to him. She’s gripped by rage and yearns to run at him while he’s still, just staring at her like she’s a disease.
But her breath forsakes her, chokes her.
Don’t die this way, she tells herself. Don’t.
He swings his other leg in so he’s sitting and facing her, the knife at his side.
“Put that down.”
She drops the candelabra. Not because she wants to obey him; because the lack of air has left her so weak that she falls to her knees.
He pushes himself off the windowsill. His feet pound the floor. She feels the cabin shake and prays for the strength to run through walls.
He stands in front of her, placing the tip of the long blade under the point of her chin. But she won’t raise her head. Her eyes are closed.
“You messed with a lot of people, and you got away with it, but you don’t mess with me. You went too far when you did that, and now you have to pay. Do you understand?”