A Taste of Darkness

Chapter 13: Lost and Not Found

Scarlett

Why haven't I moved? It was then that I realised that all of this time, it was perfectly easy for me to step away from him and remove myself from his hold, but I didn't despite having that knowledge. He asked me a question I didn't have the answer to myself, and that was a fact I didn't like.

"Because I can't get away if you're holding my face, asshole," I retort. Of course I lied, it was my only option in this situation. It's not like I was going to tell him that I stayed in his arms because why-the-fuck-not. Plus, I had become very good at lying lately anyway.

"I see," he breathes, suspicion in his tone. Shit, I hope I was convincing enough. If I wasn't I may as well just crawl into a hole and never come out. He takes a breath, seeming to fight against some sort of resistance before removing his hand from my chin. And, just when he does so, I relish in the oxygen I am finally able to breathe into my nostrils.

"Pick up the gun," he commands, crossing his arms. As much as I don't want to do this, I know that there is no way I can get out of this situation, so I do as he says. But I make sure to show my reluctance towards having to spend any sort of quality time with him.

"Now get into the position Giovanni explained to you." For some reason, shivers crept up my spine at his words, from him ordering me around the place. Why did he specifically have to use the word "position"? Fuck my life.

I did as he said because I felt that this would all be easier that way, and my less than innocent thoughts began to cloud my judgement. Why am I being like this? This isn't me. I need to find a way to shut it out, it can't be that hard, right? It's not like I felt anything towards him or cared about him whatsoever anyways.

"Now that I did what you said is that lesson enough so that you can leave?" I ask in a persuasive tone, secretly pleading, while also making sure to show him how irritated his presence made me.

He pauses for a moment to examine me, looking my body up and down and studying my stance and hold on the gun. His stare made me feel nervous, something the new me has never felt before.

"Not quite," he finally says, "Like Giovanni said, your posture is slightly off. It needs to be more like this..." Suddenly I feel his body pressed against mine while his arms wrap around me, reaching for my hands that hold the pistol. His head remains grazing against the side of my forehead as he focuses on fixing the position of my arms.

Fuck. I can't concentrate. Not when he's so close that I can feel his hot breath on my skin, sending a tingling sensation to every part of my body. Not with his fingers brushing against my skin so delicately that it sends shivers down my spine. My breathing becomes ragged, his is hitched, and I can't seem to think about anything else. This is it. This is how I'm going to die.

He moves my arms slightly to the right and bends my left arm gently, "That's more like it," he whispers calmly into my ear, leaning in. Fuck, he's doing this on purpose, isn't he? I hate him. I hate him and I hate this so much.

"Care to remove your hands?" I command, pointing out that even though he's already fixed my posture, he still hasn't taken his hands off my body. I could easily step away from him myself, but my body still hasn't seemed to respond to what my brain was telling it to do, so asking him to do so was my last resort.

Thankfully, he finally lowers his arms and takes a step back, leaving me to no longer feel any part of him on me. For some reason, as he does so, a specific feeling I can't identify comes alive in my chest. It didn't feel like a good feeling, but I still didn't know what it was. I didn't like it either.

He clears his throat and fixes his composure while taking a deep breath, "Now that you're in the right position, aim for target number four and pull the trigger. Let's see how close you can get to the centre."