Poison

She looked at me with those huge almond-shaped eyes of hers, her face unreadable, and waves of pure innocence radiated from them. She moved closer, causing the leather seat to groan with pleasure as it flexed beneath her bare skin. Her irises were deep brown, with tiny flecks and imperfections, and to me, they were bottomless pools of happiness. Our faces were only inches apart, I could feel her breath play across my skin. She inhaled, making the gold chain I'd given her, twinkle in the reflected light of the dashboard. She rolled her bottom lip and bit down on it, making tiny indents on the cherry red skin.

How many times had I tasted those lips? She was a flavour I would die for. Love made my heart hammer at my chest but my mind was filled with doubt. I wanted to be in this moment forever, and at the same time, something screamed at me to run. The magnificence of her eyes held me in a wordless stupor, while her scent invaded my body and dulled my senses.

“I need you,” she whispered, her voice husky with sex. My pulps expanded to their maximum so I wouldn’t miss an ounce of her beauty.

“You’re the only one I can trust,” she said, cupping my face with tender fingers. Her long lashes fluttered as she closed in on me with aching slowness. Sparks of desire crackled in my brain, threatening to send me insane, and then, at last, our lips collided and I was hers.

All too soon she pulled away. I was ravenous for her and tried to draw her toward me but she resisted. She leaned across and opened the car door. Outside, the night was crisp, illuminated by a full moon. A lane ran up the hill, finishing in front of a huge house. I looked back at her and thought I saw something. For a moment she seemed older, colder, but then I looked again and she was my love once more.

“I'll be yours forever,” she said and smiled. I looked down at the blade in my hand and knew I was powerless to resist. I had to have her and this was the only way. Afraid to look back, afraid to pause, I hurried into the unknown.

The building seemed to fly toward me like a living thing. The doorknob turned silently in my hand, just as she’d promised it would. On weightless feet, I glided up the stairs and paused at the top. To the right was the half-open door which flooded the darkness with deep animal-like snores. The sound was fitting for the beast which nested within. I tightened my grip on the blade and felt my gut knot with hate. I didn’t have to look inside to witness the vast bloated body, floundering in a sea of silk sheets. She'd described the scene to me a hundred times, my mind endured what she endured and my soul was as tarnished as hers.

The sounds he made conveyed every slobbering twitch of his jowls while he grunted his way through debauched dreams. In the darkness, my ears had become my eyes, and I could see all. I could see the monster forcing himself on her, defiling her in unnatural ways, revelling in her shame.  How many times had she described her torment at his hands? How had she survived? Had she survived? I’d lost count of the times we'd made love, while tears glistened on her perfect face. Once, as she lay collapsed on my chest, she'd said she’d always known I'd come to save her.

I watched the moonlight dance on the edge of the blade and imagined driving it deep into his gut. How I wanted to send that bastard straight to hell for what he’d done to her. I knew I’d be doing the world a favour, but she insisted the weapon should not to be used. The knife was just a threat, should anything go wrong.  

The door on the left was her dressing room. A royal bounty of clothes to make a prisoner into a queen. I moved as quietly as a cat, but the door gave a tiny squeal. I froze, listening. The pig grunted once, then once again, before settling back into a deafening slumber. Inside the dressing room, the walls were lined with rails which groaned under couture gowns. The deep rosewood drawers held a thousand treasures, but I sought only one. I knelt and eased open a door which looked like all the others.  The cold steel face of the safe was hidden inside. The only thing the beast guarded more diligently than his queen, was his gold.

When she'd left the house earlier, she'd told him her sister was ill in hospital. Unfortunately, that meant she couldn’t get her valuables out of the house. He checked the contents of the safe every night. One more way he had of keeping her chained to him. We need time to disappear or he would chase her down; this is why I find myself sneaking into the house in the dead of night. A new life is expensive, and these are her jewels, she'd paid for them in blood and tears.

As I readied myself to enter the code, I pulled some dresses from the rail. She’d said the safe would beep and that I should use something to hide the noise.  I typed in the number she had given me and twisted the handle. The door opened easily. Inside were fist-sized bundles of money lying on a small mountain of black-satin bags.

“What the blazes are you doing?” snarled a whisky roughened voice behind me.

The beast was awake! I barrelled my way through the dark and collided shoulder first with his flabby stomach. I heard the air whoosh through his mouth and imagined his multiple chins wobbling.

Run. Run. Run!!! My mind screamed, and thankfully, my leg’s obeyed.  

I was at the top of the stairs when all the lights came on. I saw her standing in the hall below, looking up at me. Why had she followed? Had she come to warn me he was awake? Run my love, I thought. In that instant, an explosion filled the air and fire ripped through my back. I was hurled into the void and began to drop. Time slowed down and I saw the edge of the step rise up toward me. It crashed into my neck and I heard the bones snap. Step after step assaulted me until the cold marble floor delivered the final blow.

I lay twisted at an impossible angle, with my sweetheart looking down on me. Her face was calm and radiant; I tried to extend an arm but my body wouldn't respond.

“Careful, he’s got a knife!” cried the beast from the top of the stairs.

“I don’t think he is any danger, well, not anymore,” she said, her tone flat. She must be in shock, I thought. I tried to tell her I was alright but I only managed to cough up some blood.

“I’m calling the police,” he said.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “You get some clothes on before they get here.”

That’s my girl, I thought. Give us time to get away. I tried to smile at her, and I think I managed it. She walked forward, hunkered down, and reached for me.

“I’m just winded,” I managed to whisper. She smiled, but her hand didn’t take mine. Instead, she took the knife and walked into the kitchen. I heard the water running for a second, and when she appeared, she was drying her hands on a tea towel. Again, she hunkered down. I couldn’t understand what she was doing, but I hoped she had a plan. I watched her take the cordless phone from its cradle, but she didn’t dial anything. It was time to get away from here.

“Help me up,” I groaned, the words were agony to get out, and more coughing came. This time I managed to raise my hand and was shocked to see it covered in blood. I could feel the heat rushing from my body and knew that must be bad. She shuffled back a step, avoiding my fingers, but her eyes were soft and innocent. She watched me, the phone dangling from her fingers. First her head cocked left, then right, before she punched three numbers and lifted the phone to her ear. She waited in silence.

I heard a click and it was as if that noise changed her into a different person. She bellowed and screamed at the person on the other end of the line; saying in between heaving sobs, “Please, please hurry. My husband shot him! He’s dead! He’s dead!" There was more sobbing before she choked out the address and then started to scream, “No, no, no, no! Don’t kill me! Don’t kill…” then she smashed the phone on the marble floor.

As quickly as she became agitated, she became calm again. I couldn’t feel my legs; my head was swimming and I could feel my heart hammering a mile a minute in my chest. I tried to speak, but no words would come. In some ancient part of my brain a realisation struck. She was like one of those beautiful mushrooms, the ones with fantastic colours, they promised bliss but delivered only poison.

As darkness crept across my vision, I saw her run her hands through my blood. She smeared it on her face and clothes, then ripped open her blouse and bashed her head viscously three times against the edge of a hall table. With the last ounce of life in my body, I forced my eyes to stay open. Her beautiful face was already beginning to swell when she said, “I knew I could count on you.”

She smiled, and I longed to taste those amazing lips, those poison lips, one last time.

“What the hell is going on?” roared the beast from above. She turned her face up with a scowl, flipped him the finger, the calmly walked out into the night. 

If you liked this little tale, you would love the book. Click the link to take a look.

Honeysuckle Lane - The Book