Interest Begins Tonight part 2
1907 Words
She leaned forward.
Close enough that she could smell cedar and copper on him again.
“I want blood,” she said. “I want Jian to look at me the way I used to look at him like I was his entire future and then I want him to realize the future just walked in with a knife.”
Lu Xun didn’t blink.
“Then that’s what you’ll get.”
He opened his door.
Cold air rushed in.
He stepped out.
Walked around.
Opened her door.
Held out a hand.
She stared at it.
At the fresh carving on the back.
A V A
Still red at the edges.
She placed her palm in his.
His fingers closed.
Hard.
Not gentle.
Not careful.
Like he was claiming something that had always belonged to him.
He pulled her out into the rain.
She gasped at the cold.
He didn’t let go.
Just drew her against his side half shelter, half cage and walked her toward the dark house.
At the door he pressed his thumb to a hidden panel.
A soft click.
Lights bloomed inside. Low. Warm. Dangerous.
The interior was all sharp lines and black leather. Glass walls looking out over the churning ocean. A single light burning above a long table covered in maps, photographs, weapons.
A war room dressed up as a living room.
Ava stopped just inside the threshold.
Dripping.
Shivering.
Staring.
Lu Xun closed the door behind them.
Locked it.
Then turned to her.
“You’re soaked.”
“So are you.”
He stepped closer.
Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
“I have clothes. Dry ones. Shower. Food. Sleep.”
“I don’t want to sleep.”
“What do you want?”
She looked at his mouth.
Then his throat.
Then the cut still weeping slowly.
“I want to know what happens next.”
He studied her for a long moment.
Then he reached out.
Tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear.
His fingers lingered.
“You’re not ready for next yet.”
“I’m ready.”
“No.” His thumb brushed her lower lip right over the place she had bitten earlier. “You’re still bleeding.”
“So are you.”
He smiled then.
Small.
Sharp.
Predatory.
“Fair.”
He stepped back.
Walked to a cabinet.
Pulled out a black towel.
Tossed it to her.
Then another.
“Dry off. I’ll get you something to wear.”
She caught the towels.
Pressed one to her face.
Breathed in.
It smelled like him.
Cedar. Smoke. Metal.
She hated how much she liked it.
He disappeared down a hallway.
Came back three minutes later with a black long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants.
Both too big.
Both his.
He handed them over.
Turned his back.
Not out of politeness.
Out of trust.
Or maybe arrogance.
She peeled off the ruined dress.
Let it fall in a wet slap on the floor.
Toweled dry.
Slipped into his clothes.
The shirt fell almost to her thighs.
The pants she had to roll three times at the waist.
She felt small.
But not weak.
When she looked up he was watching her again.
Not leering.
Just… seeing.
“You kept the ring,” he said.
She froze.
He nodded toward her neck.
She touched it automatically.
The thin silver chain.
The ring he gave her at seventeen hanging between her breasts.
She hadn’t even realized she still wore it.
Habit.
Superstition.
Hope.
“I never took it off,” she admitted.
His expression didn’t change.
But something in his eyes did.
“Take it off.”
She hesitated.
“Why?”
“Because tonight you stop wearing other people’s promises.”
Her fingers shook.
She lifted the chain over her head.
The ring dangled.
Heavy.
She held it out.
He took it.
Looked at it for a long moment.
Then walked to the fireplace.
Opened the glass door.
Dropped the ring into the cold grate.
Poured something from a decanter over it.
Lit a match.
The flame caught fast.
Silver began to soften.
She watched it melt.
Watched the shape disappear.
Watched the last eight years turn to liquid metal and smoke.
When it was done he closed the door.
Turned back to her.
“Now,” he said.
“Now what?”
“Now we plan.”
He walked to the table.
Spread out a photograph.
She stepped closer.
Looked down.
Jian.
Smiling at a charity gala.
Arm around a woman in red.
Ava recognized her.
The new fiancée.
The one who sent the photos.
She felt something hot and vicious bloom behind her ribs.
Lu Xun tapped another photo.
A building.
A warehouse.
A date written in red marker.
Three days from now.
“What is that?” she asked.
“The place where Jian’s family cleans their money. And where they move girls they don’t want anyone to find.”
Her stomach turned over.
“You’re going to burn it.”
“I’m going to dismantle it.”
She looked up at him.
“And Jian?”
“Jian will be there.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he thinks he’s untouchable now that you’re gone.”
Ava stared at the photo.
At Jian’s perfect smile.
At the woman in red.
At the date.
She spoke very quietly.
“I want in.”
Lu Xun looked at her for a long time.
Then he reached out.
Tipped her chin up with one finger.
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“No going back.”
“I already burned my bridges.”
He studied her eyes.
Searched for doubt.
Didn’t find it.
Then he nodded once.
“Good.”
He released her chin.
Turned to the table.
Picked up a knife.
Simple. Black handle. Sharp enough to split atoms.
He offered it to her.
Hilt first.
She took it.
The weight felt right.
Too right.
He watched her grip it.
Watched her thumb test the edge.
Watched her not flinch when it kissed skin.
Then he said the four words that sealed everything:
“Lesson one starts now.”
He stepped behind her.
Chest to her back.
Arms caging her.
Hand wrapping around hers on the knife.
“First rule,” he murmured against her ear.
“Never hesitate.”
She felt his heartbeat against her spine.
Steady.
Certain.
Nothing like hers.
Hers was a war drum.
He guided her hand.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Showed her how to turn the blade.
How to keep her wrist loose.
How to aim for the soft places.
Throat.
Armpit.
Inner thigh.
Kidney.
He spoke low. Patient.
Like a teacher.
Like a lover.
Like a killer.
And she listened.
She absorbed.
She repeated the motions when he let go.
Again.
Again.
Until the knife felt like an extension of her arm.
Until she could picture Jian’s throat under the edge.
Until she could imagine the sound it would make.
When she finally lowered the knife her hands were shaking.
Not from fear.
From hunger.
Lu Xun stepped around to face her.
Took the knife from her fingers.
Set it down.
Then cupped her face with both hands.
Thumbs brushing the corners of her mouth.
“You still taste like blood,” he said.
She licked her lips.
Tasted copper.
Nodded.
“Good,” he murmured.
Then he leaned down.
And kissed her.
Not soft.
Not sweet.
Like he was claiming the last piece of something he had waited eight years to take back.
She kissed him like she was drowning and he was air.
Teeth.
Tongue.
Anger.
Grief.
Hunger.
All of it.
When he pulled back they were both breathing hard.
He rested his forehead against hers.
Voice rough.
“Three days.”
She nodded.
“Three days.”
He brushed his lips over her temple.
“Then we collect.”
She closed her eyes.
Felt the storm inside her finally find direction.
Felt the girl who begged finally die.
Felt the woman who remained open her eyes.
And smile.
Small.
Sharp.
Just like his.
“Interest begins tonight,” she whispered.
Lu Xun’s arms tightened around her.
And outside the glass wall the ocean roared its approval.
- Writer
