Killing Hope

Chapter Seven

That night at dinner Hope picked at the food on her plate, earning herself a scolding from Juniper and black looks from Hitman. She barely registered either though, lost in her thoughts until Hitman suddenly took her arm and propelled her to their room. Blinking hard she watched as he ordered her to sit on the chair and wait for him and when he returned her eyes widened to see he had brought a plate of food with him.

"You're gonna eat this or I'm going to push it down your throat myself," he threatened. He raised an eyebrow as she looked up at him pleadingly. "Do as you're told. I've been lenient with you these last few days, letting you heal but tonight you're so close to getting your ass whipped..." He left the last sentence hanging between them as he took a step back, his arms folded across his chest and his dark eyes fixed on her. Hope picked up the plate and started to eat, watching him warily as she did so. He nodded, seemingly satisfied as she finished what was on the plate and then took it from her, handing her a bottle of water which he watched her drink. He then took a seat on the chair beside her and to her surprise took her hand in his, turning it to look at his ring on her finger. "I won't let anyone hurt you, Hope," he said, meeting her gaze. She blinked and looked down at her lap.

"You would not be able to stop the Crone," she said, softly. Hitman sighed.

"She won't hurt you; it'd be like hurting herself. And all the time you wear my ring you're under my protection. You're forgetting that I am a Lord of Death here, Hope and my name and my protection mean something. She knows who I am and she won't touch you while you belong to me, ok?"

"I was hurt last time I was under your protection," she said quietly and he nodded.

"I know, but that time you were my captive. This time we are joined in a betrothal and that means a lot here. If we married our bond would be stronger." He gave her a lingering look and she reddened.

"I won't marry you, sir," she said, a little faintly. "Not while you still hate me so much. A betrothal can be broken but not a marriage. You can still cast me away now but a marriage vow would bind us for all time. There are no divorces here; we would be joined forever and I don't believe you want that."

Hitman considered this and scowled at her.

"What makes you so sure of that?" he demanded. Hope sighed and looked away from him as she spoke, afraid of earning herself a beating from him.

"Because you enjoyed the affections of the fairy too much. Because you only touch me in anger. Because there is still hatred for me burning through your veins. It is not the basis for a marriage."

He couldn't deny anything that she had said  and he remained calm as she spoke.

"Yeah well, a lot has happened to make it that way and you're not entirely blameless, Hope," he replied. When she looked at him her eyes were filled with such misery that  he sighed and to her shock grabbed her hand in a gentle touch. "I know I'm hard and I know I'm angry but don't ever think I don't feel anything for you. It's my ring on your finger and I won't have you taken from me, not by anyone, ok? You're mine Hope and I've no intention of letting you go. There won't be any more fairies or other women; it was poor on my part to put you through that and I'm sorry, ok?"

His apology startled her and she stared across at him before she nodded.

"I'm sorry for what you saw at the Fire Pit too," she said and he gave her a small smile.

"Apology accepted," he replied, squeezing her hand once. And as she looked at him she saw a glimpse of the man she had loved behind the hard facade of the Hitman. She saw Bret looking at her from behind those dark eyes.

***

Hitman went back to his visor when Hope had fallen asleep that night. He called up the image of the Crone on the beach and looked at the skeletal face, feeling a sense of remembrance. He could see himself standing, watching as Hope walked away from him towards the Crone and he could hear his voice shouting, calling her back to him but she did not respond, she kept walking. And then everything faded to grey, the world he had known vanishing. But his visor didn't show this; it only showed the Crone standing on her beach, looking out to the Sea of Oblivion, her long white hair blowing in the breeze, a skeletal hand holding it back. He shivered and removed his visor, looking at the girl laid out on the bed, for now sleeping peacefully. Running a hand over his face he gave a ragged sigh. Though they'd apologised to one another he knew things would not be so easily repaired between them. He had done everything he could to hurt her since they were reunited in Limbo and she had simply accepted his harsh treatment. Not a word of rebuke had come from her; she had simply allowed him to shut her away, to shout at her, to strike her. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that. Hitman didn't know regret in this world; he buried such emotions deep within him. He wasn't even sure how he felt about her; he wanted to own her, to possess her but he still felt hot anger run through his veins when he looked at her and he wasn't sure that would ever change.