His long hair covered his eyes, leaving them nothing more than gaping holes. Already, he was walking towards her, and she was cornered with her back to the kitchen. She didn't dare take another step back. She didn't dare give him any ground.
"Why are you here? You're not supposed to be here." Her voice started strongly, but shrunk to nothing more than a whisper.
There was a flash of his teeth. "He keeps a good eye on that brother of his."
Mary's heart froze at the mention. She knew he couldn't have, he was admitting to it, but still she feared for them. Had this monster tried to hurt them?
He stepped closer to her until he was nearly on her. "The little shit's fine. This is where you come in. We're going to send them a message from me and you."
Mary stepped back and grabbed for one of the knives in the cutting block on the countertop. The entire block fell over with a loud bang as she swiped at him with a knife too large to easily wield. He grabbed her and pushed her back against the counter, that grin still on his face.
"So we're playing with knives." His voice was husky with excitement.
She wouldn’t give her life up easily.
~Intermission End~
Fourteen
Jimmy keeps his hand on the back of my neck as we walk past the people downstairs sitting around fire pits, their eyes hovering over the flames and watching us closely. I don't meet their gazes.
His hand is heavy. He grips the back of my neck tightly as he pushes me ahead so that I can't look back at him or even to the side if I wanted to. I can only look forward or down.
Once we're away from the others in the darker less populated streets, he lets me go, but he doesn't walk up beside me. He doesn't speak even to me. Jimmy stays behind me, his boots scraping along the ground carelessly as he herds me forward into the dark.
I hold onto my bag tightly, though the muscles of my upper arms ache from holding on so tightly. I wish I hadn't agreed to go so easily. I should have let Brandon and Jimmy work it out.
As soon as that thought rises to the surface, I squash it down, terrified of the possibility that Jimmy has the same kind of power Brandon does.
The walk is long and uncomfortable. We move further away from the light of the various fire pits and deeper into darkness, lit only by the moon and the stars.
Strands of hair fall thick in front of my face, sliding from behind my ear. Each inhaled breath draws the shorter strands which then tickle my nose. I have to lift my head and spare a hand from carrying my bag to shove my hair back behind my ear. As I do, I realize that my hand is shaking. Both hands are in fact. Possibly because of the way I'm holding the bag out in front of me, but most likely not.
I pull the duffel close to my body and wrap both my arms around it. Mom used to tell me that not every situation will be something within your power. Sometimes there are just things you have to do and you have no control over how things get done. This is one of those times she was talking about. This is one of those times where the situation is beyond me, but I have a choice. I can either go into it whining and whimpering, or I can face it head on the way my mom would.
So I lift my head, and I remain very conscious of it each time it dips back down. Every time it does, I force myself to look back up and to stare in the direction we're going.
We reach an intersection with old rusty signs and I continue straight, but Jimmy gives a low whistle. I stop and turn back to him, surprised to see him half way smiling.
"This way," He says as he points down the street.
I nod and turn down the street. It looks more abandoned than the others. The buildings are dark and dirty like the ones I could see from Brandon's balcony. The area surrounding us is completely silent. It's just us two walking down this street. My heart pounds when I realize it.
I don't dare turn around and look at Jimmy though the thought does cross my mind that I should ask about where we are