***Anonymous POV***
The scar on my temple itches. Always does when she’s near.
Storm brewing above mirroring my mood. A flash of lightning cracks across the dark clouds.
Thirteen years. Thirteen years of hiding in the swamp’s belly, letting the world think me dead. Letting Dru think me dead. But two hours ago, Dru made sure this b***h fell into a bear trap…. the irony!
I watch her from the mangroves, mud cooling my knees. She’s bleeding. Not from me—not yet—but from the bear trap clamped on her leg. Iron teeth bite deep, same as the bullet she buried in my skull all those years ago. *Funny*. She taught me how to set these traps.
“Sak pase, Louise? (What’s wrong, Louise?)”, I whisper to the dark.
She doesn’t hear me. Too busy hacking at the chain with her knife, cursing in Creole.
