Dead Man’s Hand by Giulia Lagomarsino
Ciara
Blinding pain shot through my head when I tried to open my eyes. What the hell happened to me? Turning on whatever I was laying on, I finally found some relief from the never-ending pain. Blinking my eyes open, I saw leather in front of me. My fingers slid out from the cocoon of blankets I was wrapped in to touch the material.
As my eyes adjusted to the light, I glanced around the room a little, but I didn’t recognize anything. Where was I? I started to fling the blankets off me, only to snatch them back when I realized I was naked under them. Panic surged through me, dozens of possible scenarios running through my mind. Had I been kidnapped? Had I been raped? I blinked rapidly, hoping that I would wake up and this would all be a dream, but every time my eyes opened, the same thing appeared in front of me.
I laid still, listening for any sounds, but heard nothing. I slowly sat up, noting the pain in my right arm and the soreness of my entire body. The more I sat up, the more the pain in my head increased, but I had to find out where I was and if I was alone. Tugging the blanket to me with one hand, I slowly stood, only to stumble as my leg almost gave out. Shifting the blankets revealed a very large piece of gauze covering my thigh. Blood had seeped through, but didn’t appear to be spreading.
Hobbling as quietly as possible, I made my way to the kitchen, snatching a chip clip to hold the front of my blanket together. Then I slowly pulled a knife from the butcher block, hoping it didn’t make enough noise to wake someone. It felt odd in my left hand. I was a righty, so I wasn’t even sure I would be able to defend myself as it was. I immediately took in my surroundings. There was a door to the left, shoes on the floor, and my jacket hanging from a hook. But I was in no condition to go anywhere. One coat hung on the hook beside mine, and a few pairs of shoes on the floor, all the same size, just for different types of weather. I was here with one person, a man judging by the shoes.
I listened intently for any sign of life in the cabin. There was a loft upstairs, but no lights on. I snuck over to the door, cupping my eyes as I pressed up against the window. One truck sat outside, but the way the storm was blowing, I wouldn’t be getting out of here anytime soon. As quietly as possible, I looked around for the keys to his truck. Surprisingly, they were hanging on a hook right by the door.
So, I wasn’t a prisoner. If I was, he would have never left the keys right there for me. My body ached, and the thought of putting anything on my body wasn’t appealing, but I needed clothes so I could defend myself without my ass hanging out. Across the room was a giant fire, and in front of it, my clothes laid drying. Hurrying over, I dropped the blanket and set the knife on a nearby table. There was a giant gash in the pant leg, but there was nothing I could do about that at this point. My underwear and bra were hanging there also, along with my shirt. They were still slightly damp, but it would have to do for now. I snatched the pants, only to stifle a cry as a sharp pain shot through my right wrist. Holding up my arm, I studied my wrist, puffy and twisted slightly. It was broken. That would slow me down significantly, but I wouldn’t allow it to stop me. I quickly dressed, keeping my ears peeled for any sign of anyone.
With every movement, my head swam. I was so disoriented, I didn’t know which way was north or south. But the worst part was, I couldn’t seem to remember anything. I didn’t know why I was here or where here was. But as I picked up the knife, something else hit me— I didn’t know who I was.
I closed my eyes, waiting for a flash or anything that would tell me something, but nothing came to me. It was just…blank. I woke up and that was it. Taking the knife in my left hand, I headed down the hallway to the closed bedroom door. As carefully as possible, I opened the doors along the way, just to make sure they were clear. One was a laundry room, and the other was a bathroom. As I approached the last door, I instinctively knew that whoever brought me here was behind that door. How did I know that?
I placed the knife between my teeth and slowly turned the knob with my good hand. Opening it just enough to peek inside, a lump laid in the middle of the bed. Something creaked behind me and I spun, grabbing the knife from between my teeth as I held it out in front of me. Nothing appeared, but when I turned back to the room, the man lying in the bed was now sitting up with a gun pointed at me.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
He didn’t answer. He just sat there, gun pointed at me, and I knew he would shoot. Confusion swirled in my mind. How did I know he would shoot? Obviously, he had a gun, but this was something I was certain of, like I knew that he hadn’t held me here captive because of the keys, coat, and shoes. It was all left there for me.
I grasped at my head as pain shot through my temple. I stumbled against the wall, barely catching myself as dizziness washed over me. What was happening to me? By the time I regained my balance, the man was up and stalking toward me, his gun held steady in his hand. I held out the knife, prepared to use it if needed, but the room spun and I fumbled it, dropping it on the ground. Falling to my knees, I scrambled to find the knife, but just as my hand landed on the hilt, his foot slammed down the blade.
His gun pressed against my forehead, the cold barrel telling me I lost this round. “Get up,” he ordered.
Not having any choice, I attempted to do as he asked, but in doing so, my leg gave out and I collapsed back on the floor. I could feel blood soaking through my clothes as the world spun above me. I knew this could be the end. The gun still directed at me, with no weapon to fight him off and in no condition to do so, I was staring down my imminent death. This was the end.
He knelt down beside me as I held my throbbing head. “Who the fuck are you?” I didn’t answer. I couldn’t because of the excruciating pain. “Who sent you?”
He grabbed my shirt, dragging me up to meet his terrifying eyes. Ice cold, blue steel, with flecks of dark blue and a dark blue ring around the irises, this man was a killer. I could tell by just the look in his eyes.
“Answer me!” he shouted.
I shook my head, slightly terrified, mostly because I had no answers. And someone who had no answers was expendable.
“I…I don’t know,” I said with as much conviction as I could.
“Don’t fucking lie to me. Who sent you?”
I searched my brain, trying to find the answers, but nothing came. But even if the answers had come, I wouldn’t tell him. I didn’t know why, but something inside me said that I couldn’t trust anyone, not even the man that rescued me. Even if it meant my death, I would have to fight him off or hope for a quick death.
His jaw hardened and he pressed the gun against my skull. “You have three seconds to tell me what I want to know, and then I’m going to pull the trigger.”
I shook my head again, fully aware that any movement on my part could cause him to pull the trigger, but I couldn’t help myself.
“I don’t remember,” I said calmly. “I woke up here and I had no idea where I was.”
“Yet you came into my room with a knife” he spat. “What were your orders? To kill me?”
“My orders?” Something niggled in my brain, but I couldn’t connect the dots through the pain. My eyes fluttered as I struggled to keep them open. Even the small light filtering in from the moon was too much for my head right now.
His voice lowered dangerously. “You think playing innocent will save your life? It won’t. I have no problem pulling the trigger and leaving your body to the wolves.”
I knew deep down that what he was saying was true, but there was nothing I could say that would convince him I was telling the truth. I couldn’t even come up with a story, because I had nothing to go on.
“Why did you come here?”
I shook my head. “I don’t even know where here is! I just woke up here and…and I don’t know! I don’t remember!”
He pressed the gun harder into my skull, but I looked him straight in the eyes. If he was going to kill me, he was going to watch the life drain from my eyes.
“I can’t tell you what you want to know,” I said quietly. “So, if you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”
I felt the gun ease slightly from my head. My heart pounding wildly in my chest, I wondered why he was backing off. He still looked like he wanted to kill me, but maybe he wasn’t totally convinced now that I was here to kill him. Was I a killer? I didn’t have a gun, or if I did, I didn’t remember where it was. He would have found it on me. Maybe that’s why he thought I was here to kill him. Maybe he found weapons on me. But if he did, would he have left all my things out and the knives so easily accessible?
“Why did you come into my room with a knife?”
I shook my head, the pounding intensifying in my skull. “I knew someone was in the house,” I said weakly. “I didn’t know if you were a threat or not.”
“So, you thought you would threaten me?” he hissed. “After I brought you here?”
“Did you expect me to just believe that you were a good person? I may have brought the knife, but you had a gun.”
I finally felt the cold steel of the gun shift away from my head. He picked up the knife, holding it out as he inspected it. “The next time you bring a knife anywhere near me, I won’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes. And I never miss. Am I clear?”
I focused on the barrel of the gun, waiting for him to change his mind and shoot me. Wouldn’t I do the same if someone came into my room with a knife? I frowned, wondering why I would think that? Did all people think that way?
“Say it!” he shouted, making me jump.
“Yes! Yes, I understand!”
My whole body ached, and the need to close my eyes and just pass out was creeping up on me. I was exhausted and not entirely sure that I cared at this moment what happened. I felt like I’d been through a blender, and not in a delicious smoothie kind of way.
“What’s your name?” he asked harshly.
I shook my head, laughing slightly.
“You find this funny?”
“Nothing about this is funny.”
“Who are you?”
I huffed out a laugh. “If I knew that, I’d consider telling you.”
“What the fuck do you mean?”
“I woke up on your couch. I don’t remember anything, not why I’m here or what I’m doing wherever we are. My mind is just blank.”
He quirked his head, his face showing his disbelief. “Yet you know how to handle a knife. You faced down a man with a gun and you didn’t even flinch. That tells me that you’ve been around guns before, and that not much scares you.”
I swallowed hard, fighting down the nausea this headache was causing. “When you don’t know anything, what is there to be scared of?”
“Death,” he said darkly.
“I don’t remember anything or anyone. If you killed me, I would just be another person that died. I wouldn’t face down the barrel of a gun thinking about a single person. Can you say the same?”
Something dark passed over his eyes, and I knew I had him. Not only would he be thinking about all the mistakes in his life, he would be thinking about everyone he left behind. I had to thank God for small favors. My dizziness spiked and I fell against the wall, barely holding myself up.
“Oh God,” I whispered.
“God isn’t going to help you right now.”
The bite of his voice would have scared the crap out of me if it weren’t for the fact that I was already losing it. I swallowed hard, my heart beating out of control as I tried to get control of myself. I was lightheaded and dizzy, covered in sweat, but shaking with cold. My breaths started coming out in harsh pants that I couldn’t seem to control. What the hell was wrong with me?
“Who the fuck are you?” he shouted, stepping closer.
My eyes started to flutter as my eyes rolled around, trying to focus on something. Then I felt his strong hand take control of my jaw, forcing me to look at him. I focused on his eyes, anchoring my vision to what was directing in front of me. That seemed to help steady me in some way, getting lost in the beauty of his eyes, just trying to find some way not to pass out and die before I had a chance to ask who he even was. Or who I was, for that matter.
I held his gaze for what felt like minutes, my heart beating a slightly steadier rhythm now. I was still uneasy, still hot and cold, and still breathing way too erratically, but there was a calm that settled over me enough to keep me from throwing up or passing out.
“Are you here to kill me?” he asked through clenched teeth.
I frowned, wondering if what he was asking was true. The truth was, I had no idea why I was here. The thought of killing someone seemed absurd, but there were things that I automatically picked up on, and I had a feeling that wasn’t normal. “I don’t know why I’m here,” I told him honestly.
“The knife…it’s not every day a man wakes up with a woman holding a knife to him.” He seemed to think about that for a moment before he released me harshly. “Not in this life, anyway,” he muttered as he stepped back.
Without him holding me, I fell back, landing on my right arm. I cried out in pain, unable to stifle the agony I felt. Gripping my wrist tight against my body, I fought back waves of nausea.
He knelt down again, reaching out for me, but when I pulled away from him, he scowled. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said scathingly. “Not unless you try and pull a knife on me again.”
I didn’t know if I should believe him or not. I didn’t know his name or anything about him. All I knew was that I woke up naked in his house, and I was in a shit ton of pain.
He gently lifted my right arm and inspected it, letting out a low whistle. “It’s broken. I should have seen this last night, but it was too dark.”
“Last…last night?” His eyes snapped up to meet mine. I swallowed hard, looking at him inquisitively. “What happened last night?”
He eyed me curiously. “You really don’t remember?”
I sifted through anything in my brain, but nothing came up. “No.”
He eyed me skeptically, his eyes watching every reaction as he told me what happened. “Your car skidded off the road in the snowstorm. You’re lucky I was there or you’d be dead at the bottom of a cliff right now.”
“I…” Panic surged through me. It was different when I had no idea what happened or how I got here, but this one little detail seemed more than I could take. His hands slid under my body, but I shoved at him, not wanting him to touch me. But he was stronger than me, and in just a single swoop, I was scooped up into his arms and carried back to the couch.
“You’re bleeding through your bandage,” he said, immediately undoing the button on my pants. I didn’t hesitate. I moved faster than I knew possible, snatching the knife off the table. He froze when I pressed the knife to his neck.
“Don’t you even dare think about touching me.”
His eyes flashed in anger, but he was in no position to argue with me right now. I watched his eyes skim over the knife, and the grip I had on the handle. No, it was not the best position for me. I should be using my right hand, but drastic times called for drastic measures. If he even flinched, I could cut his carotid artery and leave him to bleed out. I was guessing that wherever we were, we weren’t close enough to medical help for someone to save him.
His jaw clenched tight before he spoke again. “I need to take a look at this. I stitched up your leg last night, but either you popped some stitches, or your wound ripped open. I need to check on it.”
“Then you’ll do it with a knife against your neck.”
His eyes narrowed in on me. “Or I could just not do it at all.” He titled his head to the side. “You don’t seem to have any care for your own life.”
“I suppose I don’t, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to make this any easier on you.”
He nodded, his fingers slowly moving back to my pants. Undoing the buttons, he kept his eyes locked on mine as he got to work. I lifted my ass, nicking his neck slightly as I raised my hips. His eyes sparked, but he showed no other sign of pain. He slid my pants down to my knees, but if he went any further, I would lose the advantage I had over him.
“That’s far enough. Just do what you have to do.”
He sighed heavily. “And how would you like me to sew you up when I have no supplies here?”
I didn’t know the answer to that, nor did I think I could hold this act much longer. His voice was starting to come in waves and things around the room were growing fuzzy. I knew I didn’t have long before I passed out, but I would hold on as long as I could.
“How about we call a stalemate?” he suggested. “I’ll take my gun and leave it on the counter, and you can put the knife on the table.”
I snorted slightly. “Like that…would stop you.”
His hands grabbed my face roughly, his fingers prying my eyelids wide. “You’re about to pass out.”
“No shit,” I laughed.
“And you still have a knife to my throat. So, we can do one of two things here. You can put the fucking knife down, and I can take care of this wound, or you can keep your knife, end up slitting my throat as you pass out, and then we’ll both die here together.”
I nodded, which probably looked more like a wobble than anything. I watched as he gingerly took the knife from my hands and set it on the table. Then he quickly got to work, grabbing the supplies he needed. I noticed he even set his gun on the counter as promised.
“The snow is still coming down pretty hard. We’re a half hour from the hospital on a good day.” He tilted his head slightly. “Today’s not a good day. You barely survived the crash last night. I can give you pain meds and I can keep you from bleeding out, but I don’t have anything for infections.”
He grabbed the vodka bottle from the table, pulling it open with his teeth as he raised it over my leg. I didn’t bother to ask what he was doing. For some reason, I knew I had seen it before. No, it had happened to me before. He poured it on my leg, but I just stared at him.
He really was very beautiful, if only he could shave that long beard and trim his hair a little. He looked like a mangy lumberjack. Hell, if I came across him on the street, I might be terrified of him. But it was really his eyes. They were what got to me, so strong, but something deep inside them reflected pain.
He stood suddenly and walked into the kitchen and grabbed a wooden spatula. “Bite down on that.”
I took it between my teeth, feeling it go lax in my mouth. I knew what he was about to do, and when I saw him thread the needle, I knew exactly what was about to happen, and how much it would hurt. But it wouldn’t matter. I would pass out the first moment he placed that needle in my skin. I just couldn’t hang on any longer. And what happened to me after that was anyone’s guess.