Hers Freely

46. Face to face

There he stood, motionless with a prescribed presence, holding me in place with his withering stare. His look could cut through anything, it was that sharp. It was like he was saying things without saying it. No way was I backing down. 

I wasn't going back.

Unsure of his intentions, I readied myself—determined to hold my ground. Was he testing my defiance? I tried to remember the defensive stance I'd practiced over and over, preparing for his approach which was a joke. This man was three times the size I am. I had to admit, though, it was pretty absurd—me, a runt, facing off against this huge beast of a man.

But there was a dangerous air about him, perhaps I had push him to far. My heart raced, muscles tensed as I watched him. My brain was spinning with all these terrible scenarios that could happen. My eyes darted around, searching for an escape route. There was none. I was trapped, in front of this beast who might snap and finally put me out of my misery.

Still, I wasn't going to let his intimidation dictate my actions. I would stand firm, even if my heart hammered in my chest and fear whispered in my ear.

In my state of panic, I grabbed a long twig. Then I thought about my daggers—my silver daggers. But I decided against revealing my weapons just yet; I would save that for when it became necessary.

No matter the outcome, I needed to show him I belong to no one and I won't be some pawn in his messed-up game. I won't give in this time.

Then, as if he could feel my determination, he started to move slowly like the predator he was, careful not to spook his prey. He was smooth and light and with every step he took closer to me, the situation felt more intense. The air got really heavy, like it was hard to breathe, and every second felt like forever.

" Why are you out this far, it's dangerous," he finally spoke.

"I'm leaving," I said, pushing my shoulders back and waving this big-ass stick around like it's a sword or something. "You can't stop me."

Is that so? Jonah lifted a curious brow "And ..........does running into the unknown, bruised and battered really what you want," then he took another step.

There was a brief second of silence. What did freedom actually look like? I pictured the bruises on my body, but also the deeper, unseen marks left by a life I so badly wanted to leave behind. "If it'll lead me to freedom, Yes, I'll make that sacrifice." I said, trying to sound more sure than I felt deep down.

"What makes you think I'll let you go?" Hearing his threat made me take a few steps back. 

I swung blindly at him. "Back off, Wolf!" He just tilted his head, with a smug grin on his face, and said, "Or what!, are you gonna poke me to death?" 

With every fleeing second, the thought of holding my position started to feel less like I was showing courage and more like just a pathetic attempt—something foolish, I couldn't match his strength. That's when the difference between being free and being trapped felt like it was getting smaller and smaller, and the idea of getting away seemed a lot harder than it did before.

Unexpectedly, He moves quick and on point snatching the twig. I flinch away, crossing my arms over my face, my fingers shaking a bit, trying to cover up to protect myself. Then everything stops. I feel hands —his hands—gently grasping my hands from my face without making a big deal out of it.  He sighs, a sound that carries the weight of the centuries. "You're still afraid of me. Even though I have never hurt you or attempted to." His voice softer and tinged with a bit of sadness.

I put some distance between us, "This isn't about you, Jonah," I said firmly, trying to push down the shakiness in my voice. "It's always been about me figuring out my own path and getting back the life that was taken from me."