Dark Salvation

Ella’s POV

I could feel my skin tearing apart from the brutal friction between the rough asphalt and my bare feet, yet I didn’t feel the pain. My heart raced furiously in my chest. How much strain could a heart endure? Was I breathing at all? My vision was blurry, but I desperately stared into the impenetrable darkness. My body was urging me to stop, but I couldn’t. I had to keep going. I had to run.

To run away.

The leaves of the trees lining the road rustled ominously, as if they were whispering something to me. A wave of dread consumed my entire being, a sense of despair and hopelessness coursing through my veins. But I couldn’t turn back; I couldn’t risk wasting even a second. I had to keep running—running away.

The moon looked bloody that night. The whole night was bloody. Bathed in the scent of blood. Still fresh on my hands. Fresh still on the snow-white ethereal tulle. On the snow-white long veil. Soaked in the white satin.

It was a bloody night. I was all bloody. But I had to keep moving. I had to run—to run away.

Black shadows soared high into the sky—the birds of the night. I looked up, and it seemed as if they had gathered to celebrate death.

Then, all of a sudden, a powerful car horn shattered the silence, followed by the screech of brakes. Then, there was light. Right in front of me—bright and dazzling. Was this the light of my salvation?

Just a split second. Boom! A little more pain. And then complete darkness again.

I opened my eyes slightly. That was not heaven. Was I in hell?

I moved a bit. My body responded with a killing pain. I was alive. Why was I alive? Where was I?

As my gaze wandered left and right, I tried to take in the surroundings. Dark gray walls enclosed the space—nothing more.

No. There was something. A shadow in front. It moved closer. I squeezed my eyes shut before forcing them open again. It was a man standing beside the bed where I lay.

I screamed in fear when I finally managed to focus on his figure. He was tall—very tall—dressed in a black t-shirt and baggy camouflage pants. Dark medium-long hair was styled back with far too much gel. His right eye was covered by an eye patch, and down below, a huge, rough scar reached all the way to his chin.

It seemed like he smiled at me.

I let out another scream.

“Hello, ma’am,” the man said in a husky voice. He really was smiling at me, but the stretching of his lips looked so creepy on his face—nothing to do with an emotion that could trigger such a grimace.

I raised my voice again.

The man sat on the edge of my bed and put his hand over mine. “Shh. Calm down, ma’am. Breathe.”

“Who are you?” I asked, tears growing in my eyes. “Where am I?”

“Try not to move much,” he replied, completely ignoring my question. “You have a broken rib.”

Just then, I realized that my wedding dress was gone, and a long nightgown covered my body instead.

“I want to sit,” I mumbled, gathering the strength to rise from the bed.

“Let me help you,” the man offered, extending a hand toward me.

“Don’t touch me!” I cried out.

“Don’t worry, ma’am.”

That word ma’am sounded so wrong, considering he looked at least ten years older than me.

“Tell me who you are!” I insisted, though each word came out filled with great fear.

“I am Cade,” the creepy man said. “Do you feel better now that you know?”

I didn’t feel any better. Maybe I could have if I were allowed to hide at the end of the world. “I want to go.”

“Why don’t you lie down and take a rest, okay?” The tone of his voice made the words sound more like an order rather than a question.

I nodded, and to my brief relief, the man headed to the door.

As soon as I saw his back, I swallowed the pain and stood up from the bed.

My life was in danger before. Did the threat grow bigger now? I didn’t know how much more I could take.

The man left the door slightly ajar. I had to try leaving the room. To keep running. To run away.

I took a few steps, each one causing a deeper ache in my chest. The cold gray concrete felt harsh beneath my still bare feet. Could I have made it out of the room?

The very next move, followed by a sharp, stabbing pain, gave the potential answer to that.

As I writhed on the floor, sweat dripping from my face, black leather shoes appeared before my eyes.

Slowly, my gaze slid up over the black jeans that fit tightly on a man’s thighs, and stopped at the gun holstered beneath his leather belt.

Panic surged within me, and trembles crept through my whole body again. What kind of monster was I about to face?

Despite my fear, my eyes continued to move upwards. Hands in the pockets, marked with tattoos, making to wonder if they stopped somewhere or covered the whole area below the shirt, colored in black. On his wrist, a gold watch could have told me the time, but my life had taught me to recognize rich people’s expensive toys at a glance.

Above the unbuttoned collar, pumped veins stood out all over his neck, and I could almost see the blood pulsing rapidly within them. A strong jawline defined the lower part of his face, covered in a black stubble beard. His moist lips parted slightly, just before his dark eyes brought fear and horror back to my heart. A hint of ferocity and cruelty was painted in his gaze. I had already encountered such. From such, I wanted to escape.

How much easier it could have been if that car had killed me that night.

As this thought raced through my mind, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his.

“Go ahead. Kill me. Just do it quickly,” I barely uttered.

He pushed back a strand of his raven-black hair that had fallen over his forehead and extended his hand to help me up. Which made things even more tense when I realized I was half as little as he was. Or so I felt when my height stopped below his chin.

He reached and moved my face up so that our eyes met again. “Why do you think I want to kill you, love?”

The way he spoke made me tremble again. Were those guys Grayson’s men? Only, if they were, I would have been dead by now.

“If you don’t want to kill me, then please let me go!” I couldn’t stop the tears from dropping down my cheeks.

The man stood still in front of me, staring into my eyes. “You won’t be going anywhere. At least not for now. I have an offer for you.”

“What offer? Who are you? Why are you keeping me here?”

“Hear me out,” he said calmly. “If you don’t like what you hear, you’ll be free to go.”

I glanced down at his gun.

The man grasped my chin and tilted my face back up. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

His words expressed a whole new meaning, far different from the one they were to imply. I was afraid. Afraid of him. Afraid of Cade—the man with the scar. I was scared of the man I was trying to escape from. I was scared of the whole world.

“Who are you?” I asked once again. “What could you possibly offer me? You don’t even know me.”

“You are wrong here, love.” His fingers glided over my cheek, tracing the streaks of my tears. “I know who you are, Ella Zanova. But more importantly, I know what you did.”

His words echoed in my head, repeating over and over again. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak—I couldn’t think. I just stood there, frozen before him.

“The consequences will be cruel. You know that. But I offer you full protection from Grayson Hall.”

“You want to protect me from Grayson? Why?” I asked timidly. “In return for what?”

“You will stay here with me. Simple as that.”

“Why?”

The man gestured towards the bed. “There are painkillers on the nightstand. You need some.” He reached for the door handle. “The offer is valid for twenty-four hours from now. You have plenty of time to think it over. Until you make your decision, make yourself comfortable here.”

Without another word or giving me a chance to respond, he walked out and locked the door behind him.