His Desires

Chapter 12: My Unbeaten Heart

"It's so good to finally meet you, Amalia," Damon's voice laced with stiff arrogance, the gun still pointed at Victor as if we were meeting in a café for lunch. My eyes dart between Victor and Damon at rapid speed, my heart beating like bird wings with fear of Victor being shot. The long hallway seemingly continues to shrink in size as my lungs suck in air; air that is paper thin and feels like I'm inhaling razor blades. I can see the plains of Victor's back visible beneath his shirt, patches of sweat press against his olive skin where black lines swirl into patterns along his lower back. My fingers itch to trace them; to sink my fingernails into his skin and claw downwards, just like I did hours ago.

How did it come to this?

"Don't talk to her. Don't even look at her, filthy mutt." Victor snarls, the sound rips me from my wayward thoughts, my cheeks burning; sending an electric spark down to my toes. I can feel a pull from Victor, a spiralling comet ready to smash and obliterate all who are around us, fully knowing that we wouldn't bat an eye; my eyes would always be on him. As If he knows, regardless that a gun is pointed at him he turns and stares directly into my eyes. Complete darkness, except the glimmer of a message; like he's urging me to do go away. Fucking run, Amalia.

I can't look away. I don't want to run. I won't leave Victor here on his own, I am not a coward. He glares harshly at me, already knowing that I have disobeyed him.

''That's enough, Victor, put the gun down. We both know I'll shoot you right between the eyes before you even have the chance to lift it.'' Damon seethes, motioning his head to the man with the black dragon tattoo on his face, '' grab the girl and bring her to me.''

Every instinct of mine tells me to run away; that I should listen to Victor. This man who slips his hand into his jacket and pulls out a knife, the sharp silver gleaming underneath the lights above us. Already aware that he could slice me like ribbon, making his way past Victor who slides his gun away and clenches his fists at his sides; the veins protruding beneath his tattooed skin. In the light I can see him clearly. He has tattoos near on every inch of skin, none of them are coloured, I realise then, that is what makes him just as daunting – a canvas of black ink; a life without colour. In that moment, for just a second, I think about what it would be like to paint him – not with greens, or blues, or yellows – but with a palette of black and greys, of whites and browns. To colour his skin, his hair, the swirling black lines and the shadows of those memorising brown eyes. All I've ever wanted, as my fingers yearn to hold a paintbrush is to make my own canvas. Of him. With that in my head, I've never felt as bold as my artworks as I do now, and in that short span of a second I whip the gun out beneath my shirt and aim straight at the man's head who is only a step of distance in front of me.

"Stay the fuck away from me, or I'll blow your goddamn head off!" I screech venomously, pronouncing each word slowly to emphasise my threat. I really am not fucking around.

"Amalia, put the gun down, we both know you can't hold a gun let alone shoot it," Damon says, remonstrating my behaviour like a child who is misbehaving.  "Not until you put the gun down and let Victor go." Damon clicks his tongue with annoyance, the sound makes my toes curl. "I'm not going to cut deals here. Victor has been nothing but irritant and it would give me remarkable pleasure to kill him.''

His comment makes me shiver; how can he be so callous?

"I will shoot you, I swear to God I will fucking kill you first." My voice quivers slightly, trying to fight the shudder encompassing my body. I cannot let him see weakness. Weakness always loses.  He laughs, a broken and melodic sound; like an instrument that is broken but still has a few playable strings. "I'm not here to negotiate. I just want you, girly. You have a high price on your head, a price that interests me dearly." Damon flicks his gun, "Now drop the gun and come along, you're testing my patience.