Page 10 of Promise of Punishment

“I owe you my life.” And the death of your father.

I sleep as much as a cat. She’s not here as often after that day, explaining her mum is getting concerned about where she’s always going. Her mum works during the day in the manor as a housekeeper. The day and night she stayed with me, she told her mum she was staying at her friend’s house.

She’s new to the UK, hiding from her abusive dad. Definitely killing that bastard when I’m healed and have my life sorted out.

By nightfall, I can open my eyes enough to see almost clearly. I’d been sitting up most of the day, and it’s helped with the swelling.

Fable, whose name stole my breath when she told me, is supposed to visit me after her mum goes to sleep. I hope she doesn’t get in trouble because of me.

She’s seventeen. Older than I thought, but still too young to know how to care for my wounds and not be scared of the condition she found me in. That means she’s seen this or worse.

Her dad, I’d bet. Can’t wait to get my hands on that sick bastard.

When she gets here, I’m going to ask to use her phone.

I can’t stay in this garden, and I can’t escape without help. She can’t tell anyone about me. She doesn’t know who I am either, only that no one here can know where I am and that I’m alive.

The only person I trust to get me is Lachlan. He’ll figure out a way to rescue me and hide me until I am fully healed and able to work out what to do about my family wanting me dead.

Crunching sounds outside the shed, mixing with the beat of the falling rain. The space is just big enough for the two of us. She’s made it comfortable with pillows, blankets, and even bug spray.

I have so much to repay her for.

Sometimes, I worry my father will send someone to collect my body. Other times, I think he truly left me here to rot. What better place to bury a person than in a condemned garden that no one visits.

A flashlight shines through the slats of the shed. I wish it were daytime so I could see her in the natural light. I’ll have to settle for the one on her phone.

The door handle jostles, and a tiny girl wearing a black raincoat enters.

“Hey. Can you take this?” she asks, unaware that my eyes are open and I’m watching her.

She hands me the phone. I shine it on her as she removes her coat and hangs it on a broken tree branch that juts through a hole where once was a brick.

When she turns, she runs her fingers through long, dark hair. The glossy strands curl at the ends.

“How are you feeling?” She takes off her sneakers and steps onto the blanket, lowering onto it and sitting with her legs crisscrossed.

Finally, her eyes meet mine. They’re citrine like my birthstone. They’re also big and beautiful with long black lashes that curl toward her eyebrows. Her skin tone is warm like honey, and her face is as storybook as her name. She could be a fairy with those features. And those lips. The bottom one is plumper than the top. This girl will bring men to their knees one day. She’s beyond what I had imagined, and I pictured all kinds of appearances based on her sweet voice, but this wasn’t one of them. I hate that the innocence of her face doesn’t match the depth in her eyes. It stirs the demon in me who wants to tear apart the source of her anguish, but I’m too weak for the beast to rise and act on the promise of retribution I made to myself earlier.

I redirect my focus to my savior. “Fable,” I say her name, loving how it suits her. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

She smiles, and it brightens the dark shed like the sun eclipsed the moon.

“You can see!” She beams and springs forward, arms spread wide to hug me. She stops short before embracing me, her hands planted on the brick wall behind me, her face close to mine. “I could have just hurt you so bad. I wasn’t thinking.”

The scents of jasmine and vanilla wash over me. She even smells like a fairy tale. I breathe in and commit the scent to memory. The best thing I can do for this girl is remove myself from her presence, and quickly. I have a plan to anonymously donate a large sum of money to her mother, so they can afford to stay away from her rotter of a father and never worry about him again—at least until I remove him from their lives permanently.

Fable, my angel, will grow up to live a beautiful, happy life like she deserves.

She pushes away from me and sits on her heels as she scans my body. My back rests against the brick wall, my legs are stretched out long, feet crossed at the ankles. The size difference between us is significant. She’s slight of frame too, but her hips are more woman than teenager.

Even so, had I met her outside of here and been around her age, I doubt I would have noticed her, which is a shame. She deserves to have someone aware of the beauty she beholds on the inside as much as the outside. She’ll get that one day.

The thought of another man in her future coats my insides with thick tar. I have no business feeling this way about her.

“I brought more to drink.” She digs in the jacket pocket and removes a bottle of water. “The Gatorade’s all gone. I’ll get more tomorrow.”

“I won’t be here.” It kills me to say that—to never see her again.