Where We Belong (A Touch of Fate 1)

Unfortunately for him, my self-preservation instincts were kicking in too. But even though everything in my body was telling me to fight like hell, I wouldn’t.

My assessment complete, I began to focus once again on the guy in front of me. Not that I had much of a choice in the matter with the gun now pressing harder into my sternum, forcing me backward.

“What do you want?” I asked with the steadiest voice possible.

“What do you think I want?” he returned, a creepy voice to match a creepy guy.

I hated being right sometimes.

“Alright, buddy—”

“Name’s Joe, not buddy.”

Yup, definitely not planning on leaving here with me alive, I thought. Randomly, I also wondered if his name really was Joe. Probably.

“Okay, Joe…let’s talk about this.”

“No need. Nothin’ to talk about. In fact, talkin’ is not on the agenda. Finding the bedroom is, so let’s start walkin’.”

Right.

“Well, since I know your name, it’s only fair that you know mine,” I said in introduction, as if we were having a casual conversation. One where there wasn’t a gun pointed at me.

“Again, no need.”

So appealing to his humanity was obviously not going to work. I didn't think so, but figured it wouldn't hurt to try. Time to negotiate then. Probably the less he knew about me the better, anyway.

“Um, I’d like to make a deal with you,” I began, rushing on before he got the chance to interrupt. “What if I said I won’t fight you?”

“I’d say you won’t fight me anyway. I’ve got the gun,” he replied, pushing it into my chest. As if I needed the reminder.

“Yes, but since I know that you have no problem using it,” I stated, indicating Hero lying on the floor nearby, “then I don’t have anything to lose, do I? Might as well go down fighting.”

“So what are you offerin’? Besides, of course, what I’m already gonna take.”

I’d have given just about anything to wipe that nasty smirk off his ugly mug, but instead I respond with the absolute last thing I want to say. “What I’m offering is my full cooperation, which I assure you, will be much more enjoyable for you,” I said, raising my eyebrow.

His eyes widened, then immediately narrowed. “Why would you do that?”

“Because I want to live,” I said simply. “So when you’re done, you leave, and I live. It won’t do me any good to report it, since I’m a willing participant. Therefore, there’s no need to kill me when you’re through.”

Creepy-guy Joe appeared to think about this for a few seconds and apparently his pea-sized brain couldn’t find any reason to argue, so he agreed. “Okay, deal. Now move it.”

“Shake on it.”

“Lady, you’re pushin’ your luck.”

“Sir,” I said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “I don’t have any luck…obviously.” This was seriously the understatement of the century. “Just please,” I pleaded, with as little desperation as possible, “shake on it. I want your word.”

“Fine,” he said, shaking my hand with his calloused one. I fought back a shiver, knowing that within minutes, that same hand would be on my body. “Now let’s go.”

Looking into his cold, nearly black eyes, he seemed sincere, albeit in a hurry. And really, what choice did I have at this point but to believe him?

I hated turning my back, but knew I was safe as long as he still wanted something from me. And the sight of him licking his foul lips told me it was time for that something to happen.

With a heavy sigh, I took one more look at Hero and turned to march up the stairs, as if

to my execution. I prayed to God that it wasn’t.