Chapter 3 - The Reckoning
The next few days were a blur of painkillers and soft lighting.
My arm was set and casted,
the throbbing ache replaced by a dull,
heavy numbness.
Every time I woke up,
there were fresh flowers on the nightstand.
Every time I felt a surge of panic,
a quiet maid would appear with tea or a warm blanket.
But the ghost of Mark still haunted the corners of my vision.
I expected him to burst through the door.
I expected to hear his drunken rage echoing down the halls.
On the fourth night,
I couldn't sleep.
I wrapped myself in a silk robe and wandered out into the hallway.
The house was silent,
bathed in the blue glow of the moon.
I found my way to the study,
where the door was slightly ajar.
Vincent was sitting behind a massive oak desk,
a single lamp illuminating the papers in front of him.
He looked up as I entered,
his expression softening.
"You should be resting,"
he said,
leaning back in his leather chair.
"I can't,"
I replied,
stepping into the room.
"I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"I keep waiting for him to find me."
Vincent stood up and walked around the desk.
He took my hand,
his thumb grazing my knuckles.
"He will never find you,"
Vincent said firmly.
"Unless you want to see him."
I recoiled at the thought.
"No."
"I never want to see him again."
Vincent looked at me for a long moment,
a strange,
flickering light in his eyes.
"He is in the basement,
Lena."
The air left my lungs.
"What?"
"My men picked him up the night I brought you here."
"He has been...
waiting."
Vincent walked to a small safe and pulled out a heavy,
black handgun.
He held it out to me,
the metal gleaming coldly.
"In my world,
we do not let debts go unpaid."
"He took your peace,"
"he took your safety,"
"and he broke your body."
"The law will not help you,
Lena."
"The law would give him five years and a chance at parole."
"I am offering you justice."
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I looked at the gun,
then at the man holding it.
He wasn't forcing me.
He was giving me a choice.
For five years,
I had been a victim.
I had been the girl who stayed quiet.
I had been the girl who made herself small.
I reached out and took the weapon.
It was heavier than I expected.
"Show me,"
I said,
my voice steadying.
Vincent nodded,
May you like
a ghost of a smile touching his lips.
"As you wish."
