Serpent's Deceit (Entry 012)

 

Honestly, I have forgotten about the threat my life has been hanging by. Seeing him standing on Dax’s door makes me feel such terror that even the Grim Reaper probably would not be able to make me feel. He does not look even close to the Grim Reaper. If anything, he looks like an angel, draped with a long white coat, with an equally white shirt and white pants, a visible contrast to his skin tone. If you do not know anything about him, the smirk on his lips will seem divine, as if he is here to take you to heaven. But I am not as ignorant. I definitely know what it means to have him here.

A gasp leaves my mouth, unconsciously drawing his attention to me. When his eyes find me, the smirk broadens. He makes a hissing noise with his tongue before speaking, “Ah, the first thing I met today is Dax’s hoe. What a lovely day!”

He says that in a mocking tone and makes an even nastier gesture. Blood shoots up to my head. But before I can react, Dax steps out of the kitchen. “Call her that one more time and see what I do to you.”

After the words leave his mouth, it hits me that this guy is deliberately doing that just to get on Dax’s nerves. Because in the next moment, he chants the word a few times, and Dax jumps on him with an animalistic growl without any hesitation.

He dodges Dax’s attack easily, letting him fall to the ground with an impact. Then he grabs the back of his hair and leans down until their faces are at the same level. He hisses something at him in Spanish, which I do not understand, but Dax does. And from his reaction and my previous experience, I get that he has not said anything nice. Dax goes wild. With a swing of his body, he has that guy pinned to the ground. I understand what Dax says next because he is speaking English. “That’s my girl, and this is my house. I will do whatever the fuck I want with them, and that’s none of your business.”

“She won’t stay yours for long.” I hear the guy say this before Dax goes for a punch. He gets blocked. Instead, he gets a punch from the guy in the stomach, and in the next second, he is the one pinned down. That guy spits on his face. “Oh, we have grown a spine now, don’t we, Dax?”

Then he hits him in the face. “You dared to raise your voice at me.” Another hit. “Never saw that coming.” Another hit.”You have grown so much. A little too much” Another hit. “You need lessons again, it seems.” Another hit. “You got—”

His hand does not make another contact with Dax’s face as I hit the back of his head with a vase. It makes a weird ‘tung’ sound which makes me flinch. However, I see the impact as the guy tilts to the other side after the hit. I take the opportunity to shove him out of Dax’s body. It is not as difficult as I have thought. The most difficult part is seeing the condition he has made of my lover. 

I feel the actual fear crawling in my chest as I take up Dax’s bloodied face in my hands. He… I do not know where he is cut because the blood is basically covering his whole face. The thick, sticky warmth clings to my skin as I try to wipe away the blood from his face. It goes in vain. The more I try to wipe, the more it smears. A faint groan escapes his lips as his eyelids flutter. His shallow, ragged breaths make my heart hammer against my ribs.

God, there is so much blood! What should I do? I know. I need something to clean him up. 

I get up to go to the kitchen to bring something for the cleanup. But that freaking guy blocks my way. Frowning, I glare at him. He is not looking as polished now. He is rubbing the side of his head where I have hit him with a napkin and kind of blinking that side of his eye. It must have hurt him badly. He deserves much worse than that.

“You're coming with me,” he states in a tone as if he is stating that the Sun rises from the East. Is he serious now?

“I'm not going anywhere with you. You are free to leave,” I simply tell him because I do not have the time or energy to fight him now. I turn to the other side to round past him to get to the kitchen. That asshole puts up a hand on the wall, again blocking my path.

“I haven't come here to go back on my own,” he states again. I cannot believe it. A person is covered in blood behind us, let's not even consider that it is my boyfriend, all thanks to this guy doing a circus before me. He expects me to leave a wounded person behind just like that. What is wrong with him?

I can come up with only one possible explanation. “If it's about money, I have it, don't worry. I promise I will give it to you before this evening. Now leave.”

The next time I try to leave, he not only stops me, but he fucking cages me against the wall. As he puts both of his hands on the wall behind me, I am trapped between his body and the concrete. I feel something like nausea bubbling up from the pit of my stomach as I glance up at him. 

His eyes are just as dark as his hair. And there is a very dangerous glint in them, as expected.

“Give me the money, and I will leave.” The way he says it definitely sounds like a warning. I have the urge to immediately listen to him as if a subconscious part of me is seeing the danger it will bring if I do not obey him. However, I am still sensible enough to not let go of my dying boyfriend and go with him.

“Later. I don't have it with me now,” I respond as firmly as I can, staring straight at his soul. Well, it is impossible to stare at his soul through his eyes as they are darker than the moonless night. He stays silent for a moment, contemplating God knows what. Then he speaks in that hissing tone I have heard only him using, “I want it now. Give me or come with me.”

Is he deaf? Or is he intellectually challenged? Or am I speaking…Oh, should I speak Spanish to make him understand?

I try to glance over his shoulder to see Dax’s condition, but this guy is literally blocking my field of vision. Huffing, I turn my eyes back to him. “What part of my words are you not understanding?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “I could ask you the same. We have been repeating words for the last few minutes. Save both of us the time and come with me.”

I contemplate hitting him again. The vase is not nearby, so that is not a choice. I can knee him in the groin. That can—

“Where do you have it?” His sudden question makes me look at him in confusion. 

“At home?” After blurting that out, I realise that I have made a mistake. Before I can do something about it, he states, “Let's go to your home.”

The next part of the conversation goes something like this-

“No.”

“What?”

“No need to go to my home. I will bring it to you later.”

“You're taking me to your home right now.”

“I'm not leaving Dax here alone and going anywhere with you. My boyfriend is dying for God’s sake!”

At my outburst, he moves back from me and pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. It is a good thing that I am getting on his nerves finally. Well, it is actually a bad thing if I consider the consequences it might lead me to. But I am enjoying annoying him.

With an exhausted sigh, he comes up with a brilliant idea. "Leo will stay here with him.” Seeing my confused look, he adds, “My bodyguard.” I still do not know who that is, but I am assuming that it is the guy who came with him and his dad yesterday. I do not see him anywhere now. Probably he is outside.

The thought sends a tremor through me. I do not know who else has come here with him. There could be a whole crew out there, and here I am, a young girl, alone. I possibly cannot even fight him alone, let alone the whole crew.

Still, for Dax’s sake, I fight back. “How do I know he won't hurt him? Moreover, he is injured and needs medical care. Also—”

He finally snaps. I see it in the way his demeanour changes in a second. He leans forward dangerously with a dark glint in his eyes and that cruel smile on his lips. And he uses that serpentine tone again. “You talk too much. Want me to shoot both of you dead here?

The next thing he does leaves me paralysed with fear. He does not do anything major, just flicks the part of the coat near his waist back a little. As he is standing close to me, the action draws my attention there. And I see the light reflecting on something metal. I do not need to be a genius to know what is in his waistband. 

The fear I feel seeing the weapon is nothing compared to what I have felt seeing Dax’s bloodied face. The power he holds over me in this state is crystal clear. Even if he decides to shoot me here, I cannot do anything about it.

Seeing my lack of response, he mocks, “No? I figured. Now move your ass and follow me.”