Submitting To The Devil - The Devil's Snare - Book 2

Chapter Fifty Nine

Niko

There is no painkiller available, so I brace myself as Sven takes on the critical task of patching up the jagged hole left by the bullet. With a steady hand and an unwavering focus, he threads a needle, meticulously preparing to stitch the two sides of skin that have been forcibly separated. Every prick of the needle feels like a sharp jolt, each tug a reminder of the shot endured. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to maintain composure as I watch the world around me blurring in and out of focus through bleary eyes. Bianca's earlier theft of the medical gear now weighs heavily on my mind, amplifying my discomfort as Sven deftly works, weaving the sutures with expertise honed through experience, binding my flesh back together with every careful stitch.

This isn't the first time I've sat bleary-eyed and disoriented in the aftermath of a gunshot. In most other instances, I could rely on the numbing embrace of alcohol to drown out my demons, but today is different.

"There, it should stop bleeding now," Sven reassures me, his voice steady as he gently pats my arm. He expertly scoops up the remnants of his impromptu medical efforts, the stained cloth contrasting sharply with the clean, white tiles of the kitchen, and heads toward the bin in the corner.

"Thanks," I manage to say, attempting a salute that earns me a soft chuckle in response, echoing around the small room.

"I should tell you something," Bianca chimes in, her brow furrowed in a mix of urgency and hesitation. She pulls out a phone from her pocket, the screen flickering to life in the dim light of the boat's lower level where we sit. It's an old phone, something from my childhood that resembles my burner phone from Dimitri. She fiddles with it nervously, as if she's caught in a tug-of-war between wanting to share something important and an instinct to hold back.

"Bee?" I inquired softly, leaning forward to clasp her hand in an effort to ground her. I gently coax her to stop nervously twirling the phone between her fingers.

"I didn't exactly give a complete truth back at the market," she confesses, her voice trembling and jagged, as though each word is a shard of glass. She's fearful of admitting this, and that worries me.

"Okay," I reply, nodding slowly, trying to convey my understanding and support.

"The medical supplies, this phone... they were thrust into my stomach by Benji after he apologised to me," she continues, her eyes flickering with a mixture of confusion and hurt. "I don't fully grasp what it was he was apologising for, but—"

"That's a problem," Sven interjects, his voice low and serious, reverberating with an unsettling gravity. It feels like a reprimand, sharp and unmistakable—a warning ringing clear. And yet, I wished he had kept his mouth shut and let me take control of this situation alone.

"I considered tossing the phone into the ocean and hesitated. What if Benji wants an open line of communication to help us?" Bianca adds, her eyes darting nervously as she clutches the device tightly as if she thinks I might take it and smash it or, better yet, chuck it in the sparkling ocean that would drown its capabilities.

"Bee," I caution, but my words trail off as Sven jumps in once more.

"And what if he's using that very idea to manipulate us? What if it's a trap designed to lure you, to ensnare us? What if that phone is trackable? What if it contains a timer counting down to something catastrophic?" His voice rises, laced with concern, each question hanging heavily in the air as he becomes irate.

"I have faith that Benji is trying to help us," Bianca pleads, her voice trembling with desperation, her conviction clashing against our fears. This is more oppositional than she's ever been. Does she know Benji? Can she trust him?

"We should toss it into the ocean, cut off the proverbial loose cannon," Sven states, turning toward me with an intense gaze. "No communication is safer than obsessively waiting for their next move."

"May I?" I ask, extending my hand for the phone. Bianca passes it to me with a quick, anxious motion as if relinquishing a dangerous artefact. I take a moment to inspect it, my curiosity piqued. The back cover lifts away easily, revealing an ancient battery, a relic from another era. Beneath it lies an old-style SIM card, its purpose nearly obsolete. The device powers on instantly, fully charged, and I delve into its contents, scrolling quickly through contacts, recent, and messages—only to find an unnerving emptiness. It's entirely devoid of any information to digest.

"It's not an immediate threat," I clarify, glancing at the phone on the table between us, its screen dark and silent. "There's nothing on it to indicate it's been used before. It's likely that Densel—at least one of them—procured this phone specifically to communicate with us. I recommend ignoring incoming calls and keeping a close watch on the messages without responding."

Sven raises his hands in a mock gesture of surrender as he shifts to sit across from me. "Great," he declares, the seriousness in his voice contrasting with his personal feelings on the matter.

Bianca nods in agreement, too, her expression focused yet contemplative. "Agreed," she replies, her tone steady and resolute. She reached for the bag with the medical supplies, taking out three protein bars that she handed to the three of us.

"At least you had the presence of mind to snatch something to eat," Sven remarks, a hint of annoyance at her choices very evident.

"I didn't—this was all Benji's doing," she confesses, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she gathers evidence to bolster her claims that a Densel, the youngest of the lot, is on our side.

I remain sceptical of his intentions. While I suspect he might be holding back on following orders, true assistance would involve orchestrating an escape from the mainland. No, there's definitely something amiss with him, but I just haven't had the chance to mull it over properly amidst the chaos.

I unwrap the protein bar, its texture gritty in my mouth as I chew, a bitter taste lingering there—not just from the flavour, but from the knowledge of its origin. Still, I recognise the necessity of keeping our strength up in these dire times. Exhaustion weighs heavy on my eyelids, and I resolve to let the evening slip away in a much-needed nap, planning to rise at dawn when we can make our move once more.

"I need to sleep," I confess, the weight of exhaustion heavy in my voice. Moments later, I grab my phone and intertwine my fingers with Bianca's, leading her down the dimly lit corridor. Sven's voice echoes behind us, agreeing, "That's a good idea."

It probably isn't, but I'm depleted, and after sleep, I might get my game head back on my shoulders.

We burst through the door into the spacious master suite, the soft glow of bedside lamps casting a warm light over the room. I guide Bianca to the plush, inviting bed, its covers tousled and welcoming, before I start emptying my pockets, revealing the phones that clatter softly on the surface of the bedside table.

As I line them up with meticulous care, I can't help but study the familiar contours of the burner phone Dimitri had given me, its sleek design mirroring the understated yet strikingly familiar phone that Bianca had just shown me. Something begs me to think over this new information, but right now, My mind wants nothing more than rest after the shitty last few hours we've endured.

"Nap with me?" I ask, turning away from the silent devices, all of which sit innocently without a single notification to break the tranquillity. My gaze lingers on Bianca, hoping she feels the same fatigue and urge for a moment of peace amidst the chaos.

"Okay," she replies with a slight nod, a spark of excitement in her eyes. I feel the electrical charge begin to create itself between us, and I want nothing more than to make her happy. But honestly, my head is swimming, and I feel lethargic. She'll have to be satisfied with a cuddle, something that won't cost me my strength. I gently guide her down onto the soft mattress with stoic care as the exhaustion I'm fighting overtakes me. As I settle beside her and press tender kisses along her neck, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my lips, the world outside fades into a distant memory, as do the afternoon's events as a heaviness takes me under its spell.