15 Chapter 15

They drove from Calgary, into the mountains for about three and a half hours before David finally stopped. It was well past dark. The road David took seemed to stretch and wind endlessly in a remote area with few other travellers. After turning his truck off the highway, the road became even more steep and bumpy. Tasha fearfully clutched the dash for support and tried not to glance out of the side window, knowing he was taking her up the side of a mountain.

She had spent the entire drive worrying about their interaction in the gym, silently castigating herself for not doing more to protect her friends. Though the further they drove from the city, the more relieved she felt. Perhaps he wouldn't kill anyone. She was most concerned for Jordan. She knew exactly how jealous her husband could be and apparently two years apart had not lessened that possessive streak. The biting coldness of his gun pressed against her as he demanded information she wouldn't give, demanded the name of the shadowy person that had helped her escape him, confirmed that his controlling nature was still very much intact.

Tension within the truck had compelled her to tuck her feet up on the seat underneath her and wrap her arms protectively around herself. It was such a strange feeling. Sitting beside her was the David she had known, and yes, loved; utterly dark and forbidding. But this David was also different. He seemed to be teetering on the razor's edge of wrath, but he was cloaking it with icy control. She could feel the simmering rage all around and in between them. Knew he was a heartbeat away from pulling the truck over to do something terrible to her. Take out some of this relentless anger that was beating away at him.

But this wasn't her David of two years ago. Maybe he didn't know she felt it too. Or maybe he wasn't bothering to hide it from her any more. Perhaps he wanted her to know that he was so furious with his runaway wife that he was willing to lose his legendary cool. Whatever was going on with him, she knew it did not bode well for her.

While they traveled she stole glances at him, studying his stern profile in the brief flash of headlights from other cars. David was still quite handsome, in his own strict, disciplined sense. His hair was a little longer than she remembered, a little lighter than her own. The grooves bracketing his mouth and eyes were deeper. He looked sterner, more unapproachable than ever. If she hadn't known David from before, gone to bed with him, she might have considered him downright frightening. Her heart pounded as he took more turns, driving them further and further into the wilderness.

It makes sense, she thought bitterly. He is an assassin, after all. He would want all the privacy he can get to plan and plot his next murder. Perhaps hide a woman's body deep in the woods.

After escorting her into an, admittedly, cozy cabin, he left for a few hours. Though he said he was leaving for supplies, the way he touched her, the swirling tension surrounding him, told her he was leaving to put space between them. She thought his leaving was a good idea. She could feel the blackness within him, his need to hurt and destroy. She'd sensed this overwhelming emotion in him before, when he'd come to her after leaving for "work" on one of his many business trips. Back then he had suppressed what she now suspected was a ruthless adrenaline fueled high with icy calm. Back then he treated his wife with respect. Except for, perhaps a few times, when the darkness had seeped past the edges of his control. Now, that rage was no longer under control and it was all directed at her.

Before leaving the cabin, David handcuffed her to a queen size bed in a chilly room, gripped her jaw as though she were a naughty child incapable of listening, told her he had to go for supplies and warned her against trying to escape. She knew better; for multiple reasons. Though she was a talented woman in her own right, escaping from a set of handcuffs was not among her repertoire, as she suspected he already knew. Plus, she had seen David kill another man and walk away from the grisly scene as though it was nothing. She wasn't quite ready to test out his newfound ‘no killing the wife' policy.

Until she had a solid escape plan, she wasn't going anywhere quite yet. Even if she managed to make it to police protection she knew he would come after her, gunning down anyone in his path. He had said as much before leaving her, "Anyone that helps you leave me is a dead man."

Tasha shifted uncomfortably, flinching at the rattle of the handcuffs against the headboard. She shivered in the cool evening, though David had turned the heat on in the cabin before he left. The room was beginning to warm up. She wore only a lightweight spring coat over her dancing outfit. She was definitely not dressed appropriately for the tail end of a Rocky Mountain winter, which was far colder than the city. Not wanting to waste time at the gym, David hadn't let her change before leaving. He'd pushed her arms through the sleeves as though she were incapable of helping herself, belted the waist, picked up her gym bag and ushered her quickly from the building without a backward glance.

The new David was both infuriating and perhaps a little exciting, now that he wasn't out to kill her anymore. Thinking about it, she realized he had always had a cruel streak. He'd just never let the brunt of it touch her. Until now. He was a different man these days, thanks to her. Or perhaps he was the same man he'd always been, only she had never seen this side of him. This David certainly seemed to be more of a sadistic bastard than she remembered.

Two years ago, David had been the kind of man that opened doors for her, ensured her comfort over his own and worshipped the ground her slipper-clad feet had walked upon. From the moment he had swept her away from the Bolshoi dance company and traveled with her around the world she had been his princess, his delicate dancer. He had married her only a month after introducing himself to the company's principal female dancer and ensured that she was so happy she never wanted to look back at the life that could have been.

They traveled around the world for four months in a haze of bliss. Or so it had seemed to Tasha. The only unhappiness she knew was when her husband had left her alone in strange cities, sometimes for days at a time, to "attend business." Now she knew exactly what he'd been doing during those absences. She shuddered and drew her knees up to her chest, accidentally yanking down on the handcuffs. She winced when they bit cruelly into her flesh.

She had been so na?ve back then, living a blind life in the lap of luxury. Pouting when he'd told her he would have to leave for a few days and that she was to amuse herself in Rome, or Versailles, or Mumbai. He had given her access to credit cards with seemingly unlimited maximums and he had paved her way into any studio in the city, which would give her access to dance space. His stipulations were simple. She was to never go out after dark, talk to strangers or dance for other people.

Only once had she broken a rule.

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