90 DEADLY DAYS (WEEKLY UPDATES RETURNING THIS DECEMBER)

Chapter 40

Hey Guys!

Listen the song with the chapter! It fits so well!

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Chapter 40

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There's nowhere to go. Running is pointless. In less than two minutes I would find myself face down in the snow, a pistol smashed against my brains. My only option is to watch as he advances and pretend I'm not as scared as I feel.

"Fancy meeting you here." I shout, crossing my arms. Goosebumps prickle. My stomach turns to putty. Swallowing down the truth of my bleak fate, I bite my lip and take a quivering breath. "Took you long enough."

Butcher combs his mane out of his eyes, chest rumbling with laughter. The deadly weapon gleams in his free hand. I can't take my eyes from it.

"I figured I'd let you enjoy your last few hours."

"You and I have very different definitions of 'enjoy'."

He comes ever closer. We don't have to shout now.

"Do we? I always thought you liked a good run."

"You know nothing about me."

He stops.

I'm surprised. After everything I've said, those words shouldn't be the ones to finally rile him up. And yet, when our eyes greet each other across the snow, I could swear emotion glistens in his hard stones.

"You're right. I don't."

And you never will.

Witnessing the hint of feeling in his eyes, I grip it like a lifeline. Could it mean he's not coming to me heartless? That he doesn't want to do this as much as I do? Though these are just the crazed thoughts of prey about to be slaughtered, I decide to act on them. My old plan of seduction hovers. Perhaps I could try it for the first, and perhaps last, time.

As he aims for my head, I reach for the twine trapping my curls in a ponytail, heart thumping like hoofbeats. My black hair falls around me as I stare demurely at the snow, peeking shyly through feathery eyelashes.

I jolt as the pistol smashes against my forehead. A real tear slips free. You have to sell this, Phoenix. Your life is in his hands, if you can't change his mind you'll meet death sooner than you thought. Make him think he needs you. Make him unsure if he wants to live without you. You can't go until you find Jewel.

Splat. The tear hits the snow.

You know there's something in him that wanted you to begin with. Find it again.

Butcher looks to where the crystal drop punctured the snow.

"Why the tears, Princess?" He asks, tone full of mocking. He leans in. "You wanted to be free. To mean nothing to me. You have your wish. Now you don't."

His silhouette darkens the sky. A good couple of feet taller than a tall girl like me, he's just inches shorter than the sprouting trees around us. If he decided to use his strength instead of a weapon, it would take just seconds before the ripped muscles took me out cold.

For a split second a rare bout of humor strikes me. If he was a different person and we lived in a different time, he might've given great hugs. You would be swaddled in warmth, that's for sure.

The humor dies when I recall what's happening.

Glancing up, I find him watching me—like predator analyzing the prey. All the emotion evaporated. I'm scared now. What if this backfires? Worse, what if he's not even interested and kills me for trying. What if his heart is so far gone the pleas of a young woman knock on dead doors?