Keep Breathing
Chapter 4
Molly grew more relentless in her fight against the arms that bound her, all the while pleading with whatever higher power was present in the universe-God, Satan…it barely mattered.
She didn't dare look down the hallway into the pool of light spilling through the open door of the bathroom in case….just in case….
"Mikey."
She froze.
"Be gentle."
The iron bars around her chest loosened just a little but the pressure in her chest did not dissipate, instead it increased to the point where she felt she could no longer breathe. She felt the man behind her shuffle his feet-idiot-and used the split second when he was slightly off balance to slam all her weight into one shoulder.
Mikey, whoever he was, was barely fast enough to prevent them both collapsing in a heap.
She was free.
"Don't."
A hand hit her lightly on the shoulder then withdrew rapidly.
She turned, narrowing her eyes as she observed the olive skin, handsome eyes and the large uneven chunk missing from his right cheek.
New, she concluded with a grimace and one not born out of pity,what sort of half-wits were they being forced to employ these days?
"Go and check we weren't followed."
The young man hurried off, footsteps echoing loudly in the dark and door banging violently as he left.
Bet he goes down to the street, numbskull.
But he was obedient and that could be a highly redeeming feature.
Not that obedience was much good without a leader...A sharp edged lump rose in her throat, it felt as if someone were trying to cut through her oesophagus.
Spinning back on her heel her narrowed eyes pierced the silhouetted man before her waiting for an answer to an unspoken question.
"Why do you always have to keep this place so dark Molly?" he asked as he brushed past her into the living room, clapping his hands.
The lights rose and his true form materialised out of the gloom, as large and imposing as ever. But Molly wasn't one to scare easily. She glared as he dropped down onto the couch, propping his bare feet up on the coffee table and resting his head back against his palms with a sigh.
"Seb."
"Something you wanted Molly?"
Infuriating, absolutely bloody infuriating.
She rounded on him.
"Seb."
Something must have changed in her voice, the smirk vanished and his fingers began to pick absent-mindedly at the shrapnel-marks on his hand; silence was suffocating her. Slowly he gathered himself up, standing with his feet apart and hand on his waist, fingers fondling an edge barely visible beneath his shirt.
A knife? In case she snapped when he gave her the bad news, or to stop her launching herself on him in joy….he needn't worry about that.
"He's alive Molly…."
She sighed. The relief was fantastic and horrifying, reducing her brain to one word contemplations that frankly weren't worthy of a goldfish.
"But he's not in a good way, wasn't blown all the way clear as he'd calculated."
If she'd had more strength she would have hit him; how dare he even imply that! Wrong? He never got his calculations wrong.
"I looked everywhere for you." She sounded breathless even to her own ears.
"Had to take him somewhere new, didn't know if they tracked down any of our usual places."
"But he's alive?"
Nod.
Her feet padded softly over the boards, they felt cool and firm, a welcome anchor for her reckless and unstable emotions.
The sound of flesh on flesh also helped as her hand left a burning red mark on his shower-damp cheek. His fingers jerked towards his waistband revealing a flash of silver tucked neatly against his tanned skin, but with a split second pause he seemed to think better of it.
"Why on earth were you wasting time having a shower!"
The words sounded ridiculous, like the whining of some immature, spoiled school girl. The relief was sending all the panic spilling out of her in a fiery waterfall and Seb was the only target she could find.
"You weren't around Molly and a man's got to find something to do whilst he's waiting," she scowled, "besides I didn't think turning up covered in blood would make for a very nice reunion."
She gulped.
Another slap.
It was a slightly hysterical reaction she knew but she doubted Seb could feel her weak palm underneath this calloused skin, she doubted he could feel any kind of sensation-other than sadistic joy-at all.
"Take me to him. Take me to him NOW!"
Seb analysed her for a second, his eyes scanning every taunt line of her face, every patch of colour in her cheeks…he'd learnt quite a lot in the time she'd known him. At any other time she may have even been a little proud of the ex-marine.
Not now.
Standing here was wasting precious minutes and Molly had never been able to abide time wasters, even back in the days of primary school when she'd ripped out the hair of the annoying priest's daughter, who had asked questions just to distract the teacher.
"A malicious attack," the teacher had called it.
Molly had just insisted she was saving her time; she'd gone without food that night.
Then, quite surprisingly Seb bowed his head, the separate hand prints on either side of his nose comical.
"Whatever you want ma'am."