Awake | Wattys Winner!

THIRTEEN: threat

"Gia, who?"

"Professor Blackwood," she said simply.

The glass fell through my fingers and shattered upon the floor.

"Gia," I hissed as she edged closer to the door. "Do not let him in."

Our eyes locked in a power struggle. The knocked sounded again, this time a little more demanding.

"God, if you won't let him in, then I will." Isobel strode across the room in two wide steps and twisted the doorknob.

No no no-

Conrad Blackwood was standing in our doorway, a broad smile widening over his handsome face. "Thank you, Isobel."

Without invitation, he stepped into our small living room space, his eyes sweeping over our furniture. He paused as he passed the single photograph hung on our wall, a picture of the three of us the summer we first met.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, trying to circle around the room so I could be between him and my friends. Gia had fallen from her frozen stance and returned to the dining room table where she scooped together her notes.

"I thought I owed you a visit," he said, his dark eyes flickering to the girls and back to me. "I know you've been messing with things that are mine."

His. As if they were objects, my two best friends his toys. I stepped away, placing distance until I was in the kitchen, my back hitting the surface of the refrigerator.

"You said they could be safe," I said, my voice brittle. My eyes edged around me for anything that could be used as a weapon. Within me, I knew I'd never have the opportunity to inflict physical harm, but I had to protect them somehow. I couldn't overpower him with my voice.

"I didn't agree to anything," he said. With the only light in the room stemming from a small lamp in the corner, shadows passed over his face, casting him in a wicked light. Even so, it profiled his face and highlighted his high cheekbones, complementing the devilish glint to his eyes.

"I thought we negotiated," I said hoarsely. My hands inched towards the knife drawer--maybe I could at least scare him away. He might be good with words, but maybe not with brute force.

But I knew it wasn't just me against him. It was me against him and my friends. And, with the way he seemed to have some kind of control over me too, it was me against myself.

"I don't want you manipulating anybody," he said, his tone stern, "Not unless you're under my watch. I'm serious, Aspen, one wrong move and I'll tell Gianna to kill herself."

My heart stopped as we both looked towards where Gia sat at the table, her wide eyes flitting between Conrad and I, fear lingering behind them. I willed her to trust me. I couldn't--wouldn't let that happen to her.

"You don't have to threaten me," I said quickly. "I'll do what you say. It was my mistake. I didn't realise... the fine print. They're yours."

He stepped closer, entering the kitchen, the shattered glass crunching beneath his boots. "Are you sure about that, Aspen?"

I couldn't breathe, the air was jammed in my throat as he came closer, his face full of scepticism and his smile full of mirth.

"What we have is a delicate balance," he said, his expression twisting into concern. "I don't want you taking more than you can give."

A shiver crept along my spine.

"I'm serious, Aspen, this is life and death," he continued. The anger in his tone had me nervous. I'd seen what he could do, he was deranged. Unhinged.