Page 9
Story: Penance
I dwell on it for only a second before my eyes shoot back up to his face. Those eyes—those intense brown eyes—they pierce through me, sharp as daggers. There’s a salacious glint in those eyes that seems to mock my distress, to relish it.
It’s like he knows I feel pain, and he likes it—feeds on it.
The world tilts for a moment, and I’m frozen, caught in the snare of his gaze.
“Draco,” I manage to say, my voice no more than a breathless whisper.
“What are you doin’ here? Trouble sleeping?”
His voice, smooth as silk but laced with malice, sends shivers through me. His question isn’t a question, really. It’s an accusation wrapped up in a nice little velvet package and toppedwith a bow. He knows way too much about me. He knows me possibly better than my own parents do, and after what he’s turned into, I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I can’t help but feel like he knows something, something about me that I’m not even aware of yet. His ability to unravel me with just a glance is unnerving.
“I… I was just picking up a prescription,” I stammer, trying to sound composed despite the tremor in my voice.
Draco’s lips curl into a sly smile, revealing a glint of amusement in his eyes. He pushes himself off the wall and takes slow, deliberate steps towards me. Stepping up to the counter, he towers over my five-foot frame and reaches down, snatching the prescription out of my hand.
I gulp.
“Prenatal vitamins and anti-nausea pills,” he questions with a wicked grin. “Howinteresting.”
I can feel myself blushing, and I clear my throat.
“I thought you had to have sex to get pregnant, little virgin.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment.
The way he says “little virgin” carries a sneer that makes my skin crawl, as if he’s tearing away at my decency with every syllable. It’s like he can see right through me, through the shield I’ve put up and all the way down to the marrow of my bones.
“It’s none of your business,” I retort.
I try to sound strong, like the women I’ve read about in scripture who faced down demons and kings and even the devil himself.
I fail.
I sound like a scared little girl, and he’s going to feed at my weakness right here in public.
Draco’s grin widens, like a predator reveling in the fear of its prey. He leans in closer, the scent of something dark and earthywafting over me. I can feel his breath on my face, hot and intoxicating, and I shiver, yanking my eyes away.
I can’t look at him.
“Oh, but it is my business now, Mercy. I’ve made it my business.”
His words send a chill down my spine, and I take a step back, bumping into the counter behind me.
I’m stuck. I can’t get away.
I chance a glance at him.
Bad idea.
Draco’s gaze locks with mine, his eyes boring into my soul, searching for something I can’t comprehend. The pentagram tattoo on his other hand seems to pulse as he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from my face. I shiver when the back of his long fingers brush against my cheek and linger there for just a moment.
Mrs. Jenkins reappears with the medications in hand, her eyes flickering between Draco and me, no doubt sensing the tension that hangs in the air.
“Mr. Killian,” Mrs. Jenkins spits, her voice laced with a hint of unease. “Can I help you with something?”
Her gaze shifts between us, finally landing on me, and creeping down towards my stomach.
It’s like he knows I feel pain, and he likes it—feeds on it.
The world tilts for a moment, and I’m frozen, caught in the snare of his gaze.
“Draco,” I manage to say, my voice no more than a breathless whisper.
“What are you doin’ here? Trouble sleeping?”
His voice, smooth as silk but laced with malice, sends shivers through me. His question isn’t a question, really. It’s an accusation wrapped up in a nice little velvet package and toppedwith a bow. He knows way too much about me. He knows me possibly better than my own parents do, and after what he’s turned into, I’m not sure how I feel about that.
I can’t help but feel like he knows something, something about me that I’m not even aware of yet. His ability to unravel me with just a glance is unnerving.
“I… I was just picking up a prescription,” I stammer, trying to sound composed despite the tremor in my voice.
Draco’s lips curl into a sly smile, revealing a glint of amusement in his eyes. He pushes himself off the wall and takes slow, deliberate steps towards me. Stepping up to the counter, he towers over my five-foot frame and reaches down, snatching the prescription out of my hand.
I gulp.
“Prenatal vitamins and anti-nausea pills,” he questions with a wicked grin. “Howinteresting.”
I can feel myself blushing, and I clear my throat.
“I thought you had to have sex to get pregnant, little virgin.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment.
The way he says “little virgin” carries a sneer that makes my skin crawl, as if he’s tearing away at my decency with every syllable. It’s like he can see right through me, through the shield I’ve put up and all the way down to the marrow of my bones.
“It’s none of your business,” I retort.
I try to sound strong, like the women I’ve read about in scripture who faced down demons and kings and even the devil himself.
I fail.
I sound like a scared little girl, and he’s going to feed at my weakness right here in public.
Draco’s grin widens, like a predator reveling in the fear of its prey. He leans in closer, the scent of something dark and earthywafting over me. I can feel his breath on my face, hot and intoxicating, and I shiver, yanking my eyes away.
I can’t look at him.
“Oh, but it is my business now, Mercy. I’ve made it my business.”
His words send a chill down my spine, and I take a step back, bumping into the counter behind me.
I’m stuck. I can’t get away.
I chance a glance at him.
Bad idea.
Draco’s gaze locks with mine, his eyes boring into my soul, searching for something I can’t comprehend. The pentagram tattoo on his other hand seems to pulse as he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from my face. I shiver when the back of his long fingers brush against my cheek and linger there for just a moment.
Mrs. Jenkins reappears with the medications in hand, her eyes flickering between Draco and me, no doubt sensing the tension that hangs in the air.
“Mr. Killian,” Mrs. Jenkins spits, her voice laced with a hint of unease. “Can I help you with something?”
Her gaze shifts between us, finally landing on me, and creeping down towards my stomach.
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