The Ravishing

Because killing had never been my thing. Never been what or who I was, even as I’d tried to convince myself it was something I could do. But to kill to save another life, maybe I did have that in me.

He glowered. “Where are my children?”

“Is Anya still alive?” My throat constricted on that question.

“Yes, for now.”

“What do you want?” I asked firmly.

“Do you even have my gold out here?”

“You know I do.” I gestured to the boat.

“What the fuck is it doing in there?”

“It was heavy.”

He raised his gun on me. “Tell me where they are.”

I scratched my head as though trying to recall.

“You were never man enough. You didn’t kill them.”

“Guess you’ll never know.” I gave a ghost of a smile. If he wanted to play this game, that was exactly what we’d do. I had all night.

I had whatever time remained until he pulled that trigger and left me for the swamp.

“Tell me where Anya and Archie are,” he said, uncertainty flashing in his eyes.

He’d always been impatient.

“Which ones?” I chided.

A click proved he’d cocked his gun.

Didn’t budge though, instead, I offered up. “I’m not afraid to die. You don’t scare me, Glassman.”

His frown deepened as he turned his flashlight into the thicket. “Maybe not, but maybe this will persuade you.” He pointed his weapon into the denseness.

I followed the direction of where his gun pointed until it collided with Anya’s wide eyes.

“Anya,” I bit out.

She stepped into the light. “I came to warn you.”

A swell of emotions hit me in the chest. All that I could offer her was a comforting smile, my eyes conveying I’ll get you out of here.

Glassman raised the gun at Anya’s head. “Tell me where they are.”

“She’s in front of you.” I turned my attention back to Glassman. “You’re pointing a gun at her. Your daughter.”

He hissed. “I’ll let her live. I want my gold first.”

“Dad.” Anya stepped toward him.

“Wait,” I warned her.

Glassman sneered her way. “I’m not your father.”

She seemed unshaken. “Did you ever care?”

“Only for what you could do for me.”

“I was merely part of a plan? What was going to happen to me once they were safe?”

He shrugged.

She took a step closer to him, recklessly brave. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why the ruse? Why the caskets? Why all of this?”

He kept his gun on her. “Who cares?”

“I care,” she snapped.

“We planned to merely fake their deaths, at first. Hide them away. But then your mother couldn’t see a future where she couldn’t have them back in our lives. Have her family back home.”

“So, Archie and I became a bait and switch?” she asked.

Stephen’s head bobbed up and down in agreement.

“But you didn’t expect Cassius to wait so long to come to you?” She glowered at him. “I want to hear it from you,” she added, her eyes darting over to me.

“The plan seemed reasonable. Once we dealt with him—” He waved his gun at me. “Once we got our children home. No one had seen you or your brother. No one would be the wiser.”

“You locked us in a cage, just so you could switch us out when Cassius died,” Anya bit out.

“Well, if you put it like that.” His eyelids were heavy.

“Why the caskets?” she asked.

“Contingency. If he ever found out you weren’t the real Anya, we would lead him to the caskets at Lafayette. He’d believe them dead. It would be over either way. I didn’t expect the fucker to open it!”

“Did you ever, even for a minute, care?”

He seemed to think about it.

I charged Stephen. Throwing my body weight into him. Knocking him back. Wrestling to grab his weapon. A shot rang out. The sharp sound reverberated through stale air. Glassman lay winded, struggling to catch his breath.

Pushing to my feet, I felt a stark burning in my side. I looked down at my ripped shirt at my waist where he’d hit me. Adrenaline pumped too hard through my system for me to feel any true pain, but I pressed my hand to my side.

“Cassius!” Anya ran to me.

“Run,” I demanded. “Run!” I yelled again.

“I won’t leave you.”

“At least hide,” I begged her.

Stephen’s gun was raised at me again, which was better than having it aimed at Anya. She hurried over to me, but I stepped in front of Anya to shield her.

“Again, we’re back in the swamp.” He smirked. “I’ll finish what I should have done all those years ago. If only your father would have just done what I asked and allowed my guns on his ships. But no, your father was a self-righteous fool, and you’re no better.”

“Maybe so, but I still have your gold.”

“Give it to me.”

“Want your gold? Go get your fucking gold.” My heel gave the edge of the boat a kick, and it jerked away from the shoreline.

“Idiot!” he cursed, scanning the surface warily.