Nothing but the Cold, Hard Truth
You can’t get away from me, little girl.
He watches her eyes, a slow blink. What a beautiful specimen. He wants to look at her all day. Her hand reaches for her headphones—then twitches away.
What a lovely neck. And a strong jaw.
She relaxes her jaw ever so slightly, and shifts in her seat, twisting away from him. His eyebrows furrow. Oh, Rainey. Oh, dear little Rainey. Maybe he just imagines it, but her eyes widen the slightest for the briefest of seconds. Then she’s throwing the shadow back over her face. He chuckles lowly.
They’ve been on the bus for over half an hour now. After he’d followed her out the double doors, he’d seen her dash through the crowds. Like a little sprite, he couldn’t help thinking, fluttering away. But he’d eventually get her back. He’d observed her frantic gaze left and right, then left again, looking for the bus to the city—or perhaps the bus that was the most crowded.
He slices through the crowd. An older lady grumbles at him as he trods roughly over her fallen scarf. She’s talking to the bus driver now, a hurried pantomime. He’s rushing through the crowd now, knocking into other passengers. Their angry noises rise in his wake, but he sees only the girl ducking quickly into the bus and the bus driver moving to pull the doors close. No, he screams, and through the tinted windows, in the heady glow of yellow, she jerks her head before pushing past the standing passengers.
No, he growls, charging right into the doors, catching them an instant before they can shut tightly around his fingers. Shoving them apart, the brief excitement pumping in his blood gives way to relief. To pleasure. With every heavy footfall he takes into the bus, this musky chamber of travelers and dreams stifled, he can see her in his mind’s eye, wide-eyed and frozen, shivering as if a torrential rain had caught her unawares in the great outdoors. A deer in the headlights.
“Sir,” the bus driver had reprimanded, staring at him in disapproval, “The number 10 comes every five minutes.”
He’d scowled, tossing a couple of bills into the till, before snaking his way to the back of the bus. There was no other number 10 but this one. People had hissed at him as he bumped roughly against their backs and bags. A single glare from him, though, had been enough to make them turn oddly silent and look away. He’d felt her energy pulsing through the long tunnel of the bus. She was a flickering lightbulb in the corner, calling for him to fix it.
His eyes fell on her. The bus whined loudly, piercing the air with a wail before the doors finally closed over the crowd, a can of sardines being sealed shut.
He watches her small frame huddle against the pole. She’s almost curled up into herself, and her eyes continue to stare longingly out the fogged-up windows. He studies her long, shiny hair, the way it spills over her shoulders and cups her breasts. Shiny, but frizzy, messy; she has wild hair, the colour of charcoal, the darkest of ashes.
I’ll tame you, girl. Just you wait. He laughs beneath his breath, grinning as she shifts to face the opposite direction, and crosses her arms over her chest. Oh, Rainey. Obvious Rainey.
She stills, and the air around her does too. Even though her eyes are slanted towards the outside world, he knows she’s watching him in her peripheral vision. Beneath her poorly concealed shock lies the deadliest undercurrent of fear. He can taste it like her blood on his lips.
He imagines all the things he’ll do to her once he catches her, and he can see her face dissolve right in front of him, in the dim, ugly light of the bus, amongst the seventy-three people blissfully unaware of her fate. Seventy-three units of collateral damage if need be. He sucks her straight into that special black dungeon reserved for her, giggling as he wraps her long, beautiful tresses in his grip and yanks her hard, her naked skin smacking against his.
I’m the cat, and you’re the mouse, he coos. And eventually, all mice get caught.
Oh, and Rainey?
Suddenly, she’s looking him straight in the eyes. He’s thrown back against the wall, unprepared. Wildfire eyes, he immediately thinks. Her sudden temerity makes him hard. Recovering, he slowly leans forward, reaching to run his hands over her silky cheeks. Her glare tickles him warm.
Hi! I’m Alaska, and welcome to my new novel Nothing but the Cold, Hard Truth.
I am super pumped about this project. I’ve never written a psychological thriller before, but the idea came to me out of the blue last summer and has stuck with me ever since. I’m planning on self-publishing the novel sometime in the next few months, and will be publishing chapters of the first draft as I write them.
If you’re reading these chapters as they come out, please chime in! Be a part of the novel-writing process. 🙂 Who knows? Maybe your comment will spark a new direction with the novel. Maybe your comment will kill off a character. Maybe your comment will even get you a prime spot alongside our heroine Rainey. 😉
Please like and share this page with your friends if you’d like to see this novel get bigger and bigger! I’ll also be posting these chapters simultaneously on Wattpad and Fictionpress. Subscribe to my blog if you’d like to be notified every time a new chapter comes hot off the press! I aim to publish new chapters every two days.
To read Chapter 1, click here.