Fatal Vows

Chapter 14

"No," I mutter, my voice hoarse from yelling.  Daylon puts a hand on my arm.

Justin releases another evil laugh, almost like in the movies.  To think that I had talked with him days ago at the bar.

"Wait," I say, turning to Daylon.  "Ryder's still in there."

The blood drains from Daylon's already pale face.  "What?  I thought he was with you."

"Does it look like he's with me?" I screech, fed up with him enough.  I wrap my arms around myself, wanting all of this to end.

Daylon walks up to my uncle.  "You said that you'd keep my friends safe.  We have to get him out of there!"

Justin laughs again.  "That boy made you a weak link.  Better off if he dies."

"You liar!" Daylon yells, pinning Justin against the wall, but he's too slow.  Justin removes a pistol from another pocket, pointing the barrel at Daylon's neck.  In a swift movement, Daylon releases Justin and puts his hands up.  Justin's face contorts with a smile.  I see Daylon glaring at him as he backs up next to me.

Justin takes a pack of matches from his pocket.  "I'm off to supervise.  You two will be staying here."  He removes a key from his pocket and wags the matches in front of his face.  "And you won't be coming out."

"Justin, wait," Daylon starts, brows furrowed.  "I thought you were helping me!  Here, can't we just take her and go? We need her, Justin, come on-"

"Shut up, boy," he seethes, raising a hand as if to slap him.  Flinching, Daylon backs away with a cold stare.

"You're a monster," I say, raising my hands as he points his gun to me.

"If that's what you think," he says and walks out the door, locking it behind him.

I race to the door and pound desperately on the thick wood, hoping the age of it would make it give way.  I make a desperate attempt to ram into it with my bare shoulder.

"Elena, stop," Daylon says sternly.  I turn to see he's sunken down to the floor, resting his head on the wall.  Smoke begins to wisp past the windows, realizing with dread that Justin set the shack on fire, and we may or may not be trapped inside it.

"We can't just sit here and wait for our deaths," I say, rubbing my shoulder.  "There's got to be a way out of here.  The windows.  Is there anything to break them with?"

"Elena, please.  There's no way out," he says, his voice wavering.  I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

"We can't just give up, Daylon," I shout.  "There has to be some hope."

He chuckles.  "I gave up on hope long ago."  He turns his head to watch the smoke fly up into the night.

"Fine then, just sit on your melodramatic ass and feel sorry for yourself."  I throw my arms up and sit across from him on the tattered rug on the floor.

We sit in deafening silence, my ears ringing.  I watch the floor expectantly, waiting for it to burst into flame.  Daylon pulls down his jacket sleeve and rubs his wrist, brushing a delicate thumb across a red gash, wincing at his own touch.

"He abused you," I say, realizing what all the scars mean.  "He beat you."

He looks up, pain in his eyes and nods.

"Has he done that to you this whole time, since you were little?" I prod nervously.

He looks at me, expecting me to know the answer as if it's obvious.  I lean back on the wall across from him.