The Widow Ravens by F. R. Jameson

Author:F. R. Jameson [Jameson, F. R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-06-19T22:00:00+00:00

Five

It was like he couldn’t breathe. As she stared at him – remorselessly and unapologetically appraising him – it felt as if all air had been sucked from his lungs.

Her fingers reached slow and deliberately to the ruby nestled tight against her throat.

“Do you?” she demanded. “Do you really want to know what that bastard Ravens did to me?”

Even though her voice was coated with cruelty, it was still so utterly delicious. So impossibly tempting.

He didn’t want to know. A loud voice in his mind screamed for him to stand up and walk away. More than that – instead he should run away, scarper to the nearest Athens bar and forget everything about her. Whatever it was could not be good. The air was freezing, her gaze was relentless. Obviously what she was offering must only be horrible. Yet he couldn’t stop himself. He may have wanted to leave, but he knew if he turned away now there would be part of him that would hate himself for the rest of his days.

His mind slipped to the pretty Greek girl in the tight white t-shirt and no bra he’d seen in a nearby park earlier. She’d turned her head and gazed over her shoulder at him, her long straight hair so smooth and silky. For just a moment, he thought she’d winked at him. But surely a girl as attractive as that would never have winked at him. He was too large and ungainly for that. And yet, he didn’t think he’d ever forget the smile she’d sent in his general direction.

Much more realistic was Felicity. A nice girl who was a friend of a friend and who he thought liked him just as much as he liked her. She’d be far better girlfriend material than a strange, yet beautiful Greek girl; or the incredible looking – but absolutely terrifying – Mrs Ravens. The thought of home flashed through his mind. What you’d laughably call his bachelor pad. Which in fact had very little action going on within its walls, but had all his books and records and creature comforts. The place where he lay down his head.

All of it seemed a long way away from now. A far distance from that cold and still moment, when Emilia Ravens stared at him with such a challenging gaze.

It all felt so remote to him as he finally – with his mouth absolutely dry – nodded his head once in assent.

She offered him a smile crueller than any he’d ever witnessed before as her red painted nails turned that ruby on her neck a full ninety degrees.

A phenomenal, all-consuming darkness hit him in an instant. It was like gallons of impossibly black ink were spilled into his world from nowhere. Filling his whole vision and flooding his lungs. Viscous ink, living ink – a thick, moving tar which formed itself into tentacles and squeezed him tight.

Possibly he screamed, but it was as if all sound had been sucked from him. Surely he must have cried out though.

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