Page 46 of A Taste Of Truth

I back step, eyes scanning all the trees in the densely packed run of forest around me.

Escape. Must run. Bad men.

He moves closer, light feet seeming to float like I was doing.

“Hello Alice.” How does he know my name?

Clear thought rushes in to bring clarity. It’s him – one of them. They’ve found us.

My hand goes up, the knife aimed at him. “No. Stay back. No!”

“It’s time to go home, Alice.”

Home? I frantically look for Malachi in the gloom, desperation making tears leak out of my eyes. He’s not anywhere to be found. It’s just me and this man and his talk of home. I was home. I was here with Malachi and we were home together. And why is this man taking his coat off?

I back up again, and again, and again until something hard hits my back. He’s not touching me – no one is. Only Malachi. I’m safe with him, real. This is … my fingers tug my hair, all kinds of images and memories flooding my scattered brain. This is wrong.

Not right.

Not home.

“MALACHI!” shouts out of me. Nothing. Nothing but this man laughing quietly and getting closer, as I try to get around whatever’s at my back. There’s no end to it, though. It just keeps going, no matter how fast I run alongside it. It’s endless, and I can feel fingers reaching for me.

They’re on me, hands I don’t know.

Images of the castle flood my thoughts, of that woman and her shrieking as those men chased her down. She did that for Malachi, ran for him to impress him. And he let her. He passed her to other men for his own entertainment, laughed as they played with her.

And the wife – she said it too. Just a game. Games, all games.

I’m not entertainment.

I scream, slash the knife through the air, and twist, hands shoving and legs kicking. No way out, though, and nothing to stop whatever’s being smothered over my mouth and skin either.

I’m just another game.

Too late.

Chapter 16

Malachi

It’s cold.

The feeling makes me turn over and try to grab for some covers. Nothing greets my fingers but the sting of freezing land. I groan at the feeling and rack my eyes open, wondering what the hell is going on. It isn’t until they finally come open fully that I realise I’m lying on the snow covered ground.

I heave myself upright, and instant pain ricochets around my brain. My hand goes to the source of it, fingers trying to rub over the area on the back of my head. That’s as wet as this goddamn snow is, and I pull them round in front of me to look at why.

Blood smears my palm, dark red as if it’s been there for a while.

What the hell is that?

I stretch the rest of me out, looking for more problems, and then the fucking reality comes racing back full force. I was with Alice. My little killer. My killer who protects me. We’d fucked. I’d been inside something precious and for me alone, and I was carrying her back to the cabin after she’d made another run for it. I was caring for something. Looking after her and whispering promises of something I’ve given no one but her.

And then I wasn’t.

The instant the memories come back fully, I stagger backwards to look for her.

“Alice?” Nothing.