I took a deep breath as I prepared to climb the oak tree. Looking up through the tangle of branches, I envisioned every foothold and handhold on the way up to the second-storey window of the house. It was the only window that had light streaming from it, as the others along the side of the house were darkened. Chances were, Emma would be in there.
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I took a few steps back from the sturdy oak, before pouncing forth in a running leap. My fingers barely grasped the lowest branch of that tree in my first jump, but I held on despite the screaming protests of my shoulders. Scrabbling to get a foothold on the trunk, I fought to acquire enough leverage to hoist myself up. Finally my sneaker caught on a little indent in the trunk, and I pulled myself up with all my strength. I kept moving, relying on my years of experience climbing trees as a child, knowing that if I stopped to think about what would happen if the branches couldn't handle my weight.. I would falter. I climbed as silently as I could, ears full with the sound of the crickets in the garden and the rustle of the leaves as I brushed past.774Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7lrM2c7Jmu
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When I was at eye-level with the window, I leaned against the trunk of the tree, feet resting on a particularly thick branch that I was sure would not break. The room was dimly lit by a single lamp, and sparsely furnished with a single made-up bed and a painting on the wall. I leaned forward to take a closer look, spreading my arms out for balance.
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The painting was dark, with a full moon at the top right corner, partially clouded. What struck me was the silhouette of a large animal against the moon.. it looked like a wolf. I could not make out its features from this distance, except its bright eyes that seemed to flicker under the lamp's light. Creepy.. Suddenly, the room door opened and I ducked out of habit, forgetting that at this hour it was dark out and they probably would not see me.
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"I can't believe you didn't tell me!" Emma's voice rang out. My stomach tightened as I knelt on the branch. I'd found her. Gathering my courage, I stood a little straighter to get a better view of what was happening. Emma stood nose-to-chest with a man that towered over her, her pose screaming 'defiant'. Her unruly hair stuck out at odd angles, and she was dressed in a baggy man's shirt that looked dusted with white paint. What had she been up to?
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"It wasn't the time, nor the place." The man's deep voice said, sending a chill down my spine. It felt like razors making their way lightly across my skin. "You weren't meant to find out so soon.."
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"When were you planning to tell me, Dante? When you had the knife to my throat?" My nerves were suddenly on high alert. Was Emma in danger?
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"Emma," He sighed, turning away from her. Emma let out a little squeal of frustration, stamping her foot on the floor. This was not like Emma at all. In all the years I'd known her she'd never raised her voice at me. Dante, or whatever the name's man was, sat heavily on the bed. "I promise it isn't going to happen. I won't let that happen to you." He sounded tired, worn-out. Blunt razors raced across my skin.
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Emma's posture softened a bit. She made her way over to him, placing her hand on his shoulder. I crept forward a bit more, eager to see what happened next. If Emma was in danger, I could throw myself through the window and come to her rescue. As long as I shielded my eyes and neck from the shards of glass, I could burst into the room and help her get out of the house she was trapped in. No doubt the man was stronger than me but I had the element of surprise in my favor.
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"Dante.. Look at me." He looked up. Emma ran a hand through his hair, pulling his face toward her. Oh shit. Were they going to..
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They kissed.
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You know how you know watching something is wrong, but you can't look away? My eyes were glued to them as Dante grabbed her hips and pulled her down on top of him as he lay on the bed. My mind was screaming at me to get Emma out at the same time it noted how she seemed to be enjoying what was going on. I saw Dante's hands slip below her shirt.. and screamed as the branch gave a final sigh and cracked, leaving empty space below me.
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I hit the ground with a loud thud, rolling forward with the momentum and crying out as my wrist hit a rock with a sharp crack. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I cradled my wrist and ran, hearing alarmed voices from the house behind me. Half-blinded by tears as well as unable to get the image of Emma kissing that huge brute of a man out of my mind, I was barely halfway down the street when I felt myself being scooped up roughly by the waist and flung over a shoulder.
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"No! Let go of me!" I yelled, kicking at his back and punching his chest with my uninjured hand, to no avail.
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"Shut up, you spying bitch." He growled, reaching up to grab my hand. A searing pain shot through me, like I had been electrified. I closed my eyes and fought not to make a sound. First a broken wrist, and now this.. it would be hard to hide from my mother. "Oh, fuck." The man muttered, scaring me well and through. This man wasn't Dante, he was wearing different clothes. But he was just as scary and he probably ate kittens for breakfast.
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We were a few metres from the house but he stopped abruptly, hoisting me off his shoulder to land in a heap on the ground. I felt anger bubbling over the pain at the way he treated me like I was a sack of potatoes! I scrambled up quickly and tried to escape, but he had me well and truly cornered against the side of the house. Piercing green eyes stared calculatingly at me as he looked me up and down like a piece of meat. This man had strong features, and was so utterly gorgeous he was hard to look at. I bit my tongue, willing myself not to say anything as he studied me. Instead I looked at my right hand where he had grabbed me earlier. The skin looked red, angry, throbbing above my veins. It stung, if possible, more than my broken left wrist which was hanging uselessly at my side.
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"Oh, fuck." He said again. "A fucking human." Did he have to swear? My ears hurt from the callousness of his words. And what did he mean, human?
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"I'm looking for-" I began, but was silenced by his glare.
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"Did I say you could speak? Be quiet. I need to think." Ugh. If I wasn't injured, and scared out of my wits, I would kick him in the groin. What did he need to think about? How to torture me? It's wasn't like I was spying on him anyway. He stepped away from me and began pacing around the yard. I stared in astonishment. Didn't he think I could escape? I clenched my fists as I always did when preparing to run, forgetting for a moment about my injuries which had faded to a dull throb. Pain spiked again as tears rushed to my eyes. I almost wanted to swear. I forced my feet to move, shuffling against the side of the house. Once I was out of sight, I could sneak back home and bandage my injuries and think up an excuse to explain them away to my mother. His back was to me as he faced the street, hands on his hips. Not paying attention to me.
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My muscles prepared to make a break for it.
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"Don't even think about it." He was back again, but this time he stood a little distance away. Suddenly, the porch lights came on behind me. He caught the full force of it before lifting a hand to shield his eyes. Seizing my chance I ducked low and shot past him into the darkness, staying away from the street lamps. This time no one pursued me. I heard his howl in the distance, swearing up a storm and grinned smugly. I tried not to think about how when he had lifted his right hand to shield his eyes, his hand had looked red and angry like mine.
