Flesh and Blood, Sian Rosé [most difficult books to read TXT] 📗
- Author: Sian Rosé
Book online «Flesh and Blood, Sian Rosé [most difficult books to read TXT] 📗». Author Sian Rosé
“Maybe there’s no signal,” suggested Sienna, yawning sleepily. “We are pretty far out.”
“Do you have bars?” Jared asked, reaching for his phone. “Damn. No signal.”
Sienna laughed hazily and pattered her fingertips across her husband’s bare chest. “It’s just like in the horror movies,” she smirked, “out in some desolate place with no signal. Maybe there’s a murderer out here…”
Rolling his eyes, Jared tossed the remote to the side and slumped back against his pillows. “Why couldn’t we have had a request to go to Spain?”
“Because that wouldn’t be interesting,” Sienna answered, poking out a tongue playfully. “I bet viewers are more interested in watching a young, beautiful couple getting all muddy together, stuck in a Scottish marsh, as opposed to drinking cocktails and sunning it up in Ibiza.”
Jared ran his tongue over his lower lip and shifted, so he was on his side, propped up on his elbow, leering hungrily down at his wife. “Hm, well… when you put it that way,” he winked.
The young couple giggled as they collapsed into one another, the lack of signal and torrential rain immediately forgotten about, both of them completely oblivious to the mortal danger that lurked outside in the icy darkness.
Chapter Nine
Summer, 1999
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Minnie asked as she nervously watched Ronnie slide the driver’s seat backwards and chuck the empty wine bottles out onto the pitch-black woodland floor. “I’m feeling woozy, and I ate a big dinner.” The pleasant warmth in the pit of her stomach and the buzz that the wine had given her had slowly faded into a mild headache, and both of her eyelids felt as heavy as bowling balls. Minnie wasn’t sure about the rules surrounding drink driving or how much the limit was, but the way her boyfriend moved and the way his eyes were flickering groggily gave her a bad feeling.
“I’m fine,” he slurred, collapsing into the driver’s seat and resting his head backwards. “And even if I wasn’t, you really want to feel the wrath of your parents if I take you home late?”
Minnie nibbled her lower lip, “I’m sure they’d rather I was late than mutilated by a tragic car accident.”
Ronnie laughed and slammed his door shut. It was a different laugh from normal; Minnie couldn’t help but notice. His face was hazy, and he sounded mad. The skin on the back of her neck prickled uncomfortably.
“Stop,” she said softly, resting her hand on top of his as he started up the engine and reached for the gear stick. “Come on; it’s not worth it. Let’s just walk back.”
Groaning, Ronnie shook his head like an overtired toddler. “Don’t be stupid,” he said, shrugging her away. “I’m not drunk…”
“You don’t have to be rude,” Minnie replied quietly, hurt seeping into her expression.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Ronnie sighed, switching off the car and glaring at his girlfriend. “Fine, come…”
BANG!
Startled, both of their faces fell as they turned towards the sudden, sharp eruption of noise. Minnie held her breath, her entire body tensing as she squinted out of the car window.
“What the fuck?” Ronnie muttered beneath his breath. He pressed his face up against the cold glass and peered into their gloomy surroundings. But all he could make out was the faint outline of trees and shrubs.
Swallowing, Minnie clasped her hands in her lap. His heart pounded loudly in her rib cage. “What was that?” she whispered.
A few more split seconds of silence passed between them. Just as Ronnie was about to open his mouth to speak, both the driver and passenger seat doors were opened, a flash of something passing too quickly through the glass to make out.
Minnie screamed, tears immediately welling up in her eyes as the cold sting of the night slapped her skin, and she was roughly pulled by the shoulder out of the car.
A man.
Mostly bald with just a thin stubble of hair; dark, tatty clothes and knuckles covered in shitty, faded tattoos. As she fell on her arse outside the car, he towered above her, keeping his hands on her shoulders, leering down at her with a nasty gleam in his eye illuminated by the moonlight.
“Evening, princess,” he grinned, revealing a row of yellowing, uneven teeth.
“RONNIE!” screeched Minnie, kicking the bastard straight in the crotch so that he released her shoulders. Her pulse hammering in her eardrums, she scrambled up from the ground and sprinted around to the other side of the car. “RONNIE?!” she screamed as she caught sight of him, lying sprawled on the ground, a large, bloody gash weeping crimson on his forehead. Another man squatted above him, wielding a thick, jagged knife in one of his dirty, meaty hands.
“No…” Minnie cried, shaking her head. Her knees wobbled and knocked so violently; she felt herself sinking down to the ground, although her eyes remained fixed to the horrific scene that unfolded in front of her. “Please, leave him alone…” she cried.
The young girl’s heart sank as the thug with the knife abandoned Ronnie, who remained seemingly unconscious. A horrible, gut-wrenching thought occurred to her.
What if he was dead?
Fresh tears, bitter and hot, squeezed from the outer corners of her eyes; her earlier fantasies of their lives together cruelly smashed into jagged, hopelessly broken glass shards. However, she did not have long to dwell on it, as terrible, immense pain suddenly flooded the side of her skull.
She collapsed onto the floor, her face smacking into the dirt whilst sharp agony seared in her head. Bile churned in her stomach as she watched a pair of chunky combat boots walk towards her.
“Got ourselves a spitfire here, have we?” a man’s voice rumbled, a different one to the first.
A rough grip hooked her beneath her armpits and hauled her aching body upright so that she was forced to face their two attackers. They both kept their faces close to hers, their hot, stinking breath attacking her nostrils and forming a sickly layer of
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