Corrupt

21. Decisions

21. Decisions

The knife skimming the skin of my throat had Jace visibly wavering, the stiff expression that had previously been occupying his face faltering into one of confliction and confusion. For the first time, it was clear to me that Jace didn't know exactly what to do and that thought terrified me.  My hands clawed at the threatening one gripping the blade held against my neck to no avail, the hold was unrelenting. The man squeezed his arm around my torso, a warning to halt myself in my movements to free myself. 

Desperation had begun to flow steadily into my chest. The fact that Jace had yet to lower his gun was not helping my anxiety and with every passing second, my fear continued to grow. Fat tears wetted my cheeks causing shame to fill my chest as I stared down the man who held my life in his hands.

"I mean it, Kingston." My captor's finger's tightened threateningly around the weapon resting against the column of my throat, his significant words merely a low growl. The arm looped tightly around my waist held me against his body, making no plans of escape possible. "Listen, because I won't hesitate to kill her. Drop your gun."

  The emotionless gleam which had entered into Jace's eyes masked his reaction to the man's words. Panic flared through my chest at the sight of it. I knew that look and it wasn't something that I ever wanted aimed at me, nor the person holding a blade to my skin.

Jace's gaze briefly flickered across my face and his jaw promptly tensed at what he must've seen written across it, yet he didn't lower his weapon. At his refusal to do so, doubt was beginning to make itself present in my mind.

"Interesting." The man laughed, the sound cruel and almost sadistic as he watched amusingly. "You see that, Savannah? He won't drop his gun, even with promises of me slicing your throat open. This shows exactly how he feels for you. You're just his whore obviously - something that can easily be tossed away."

His words made the lump in my throat grow significantly. Pressing my hands against the tops of my thighs, I wiped away the sweat that had made them slick. Uncertainty weighted itself in my gut and I sunk my teeth into my lip, hoping that my dubiousness wasn't making itself known through my expression. I didn't want Jace nor the man to see how much his words had effected me, though resisting the need to sob was becoming increasingly more difficult.

"Jace, put it down." The girl behind him finally spoke up, her voice displaying a surprising amount of calm for the current situation. The image of Stella I had drawn up in my mind was anything like the girl I was staring at before me. Instead of the weakened one I had pictured, her strength was clear in the way she presented herself. Her chin was tilted upwards in a defiant fashion, her arms crossed loosely in front of her chest, though the muscles that lined them were clear. Her stance was one of strength, her legs spread slightly apart, her back straight. There was no obvious fear written across her face. She watched the scene playing out in front of her carefully, her eyes clear of any emotion. "Don't be stupid. He'll kill her - you know he will."

"Stay out of this, Stella." Jace shot back, the quiet edge to his voice only increasing the amount of intimidation his figure imposed. "Stop talking."

My lungs stopped working at his words and my knees had begun to seriously quake.

         Stella merely sighed, looking irritated as she shot Jace a hostile glance. Ignoring his words, she tossed her head back. "You're being stupid. He has a knife to her neck and you're not going to put down your fucking gun? What is wrong with you?"

         "Put the fucking gun down now, Kingston!" The convict roared, causing an audible whimper to release from behind my lips. At his words, the convict's fingers bit deeper into my skin, his bruising hold causing me to squeeze my eyes shut in pain. His hot breath panting heavily against my neck had shivers of revulsion twisting down my tensed spine and I forced myself to keep breathing, though the task was proving to be difficult. My hands twisted into to fists to hide their obvious shaking.