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His Dark Woods
“Are you going to kill me?” I asked him as the gravel crunched under our feet.
“No. Why would you think that?”
Because I never know what to expect with you.
“You were furious with me last night.” I said tentatively. Recalling how angry he’d looked when he stood in my room accusing me of trying to poison him.
How did he know?
“I was.” He said decisively. “I am.”
“So, what are you going to do?”
Kill me?
“The worse thing possible.” He said off-handedly. Offering me an arm.
Not quite an invitation.
I took the proffered arm, with a shaking hand. Glancing over my shoulder and seeing that my parents still watched us from the doorway.
They can’t see how scared I am. I knew if they were alarmed, my father would try to stop us.
And God only knows what Mathis would do to him.
I thought of James in the market.
So hollow.
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