Short Story from Gracie O'Neil Author Paranormal Romantic Suspense

Before I could regain breath he'd undone my belt buckle and was pulling the leather from my jeans. All it took then was a quick flip onto my face, his knee in my back, and a few loops around my wrists to secure both my arms behind my back.

I called him every name I could think of. He laughed, and suggested a few more as he hauled me to my feet and tossed me over his shoulder. “Now behave yourself,” he said. "Piss me off and I'll give you a hiding you'll remember for the rest of your very short life."

Then he started walking.

It wasn't far but it seemed like forever. I couldn't see the Jukes brothers but I knew they were there. Knew Michael was planning his move. Didn't believe for one moment I would go into the pit alive. Wasn't sure I wanted to.

The smell of putrifaction told me we were close.

“Finn,” I croaked into his oilskin. “Please. Don’t do this.”

"Do what? Carry you?" He didn't even sound out of breath. He sounded as though he was enjoying himself. “Oh, you mean the pit? What's the problem? Last time I was home I heard you were dating a pig. No longer an animal lover?”

I heard Michael’s harsh laugh. “He’s bacon!”

“That’s the one Col did with a metal bar on New Years.” Philip coughed and spat. “Split his head like a watermelon. Strong bugger, too. Lasted almost a week.”

“And no-one since then?” Finn stopped, bent over and lowered my feet to the ground. “Can’t have that, Abby.”

And he kissed me.

The kiss was hard and hungry. So were his hands. His fingers, wrapped in my sodden hair, kept my head prisoner, while his other arm locked behind my back pressing me against him. In the instant he held me suspended over the pit I saw the glint of his eyes in the flashes of lightning. Then I was falling, his voice still soft in my ears.

When McCrae’s offal pit had been drilled they’d made it eight feet in diameter and more than twenty feet deep. The good part was that the depth was now considerably less or I might have broken several bones. The bad part was landing in the foul slurry that filled up the bottom twelve or so feet. Recent rain had created a lot of run-off from the upper paddocks. If Finn hadn’t undone the belt tying my hands while he was kissing me I would probably have drowned when my head went under. Two seconds was more than enough time for me to be sorry I had wasted time with lunch and breakfast. Then the full horror of where I was and what I was standing in hit me.

Even now I get sick just remembering it: the rotting carcases…the slimy feel of the water-logged wool...the putrified flesh...the feel of skins breaking under my shoes…bones snagging in my clothes...the maggots I knew were there but couldn’t see…the stench of decay.

The rats.

I know I panicked. I’m fairly sure I screamed loudly and continuously from the time my head broke the surface.

I don't know how many hours passed, but by the time I heard the sound of the quad bike approaching I was hoarse from shouting and crying, shaking from the horror of it and the cold. I know I would have done anything, absolutely anything, just to get out, to get away from the filth, to breathe clean air, to stand on clean ground.

The engine became a roar then died.

“Finn!” His name wavered on my lips, the sound thin with despair.

“No, it’s bloody Santa Claus!” A beam of light hit me in the eyes and I heard him curse. “Hang on, Abby.” Something dropped out of the light and slapped me on the head. “Grab the rope. Slip the loop over your head, under your arms, and hold your elbows down.”

“Get me out! Get me out!” I fumbled with the rope, clumsy with cold and fatigue, terrified that he would leave me here, terrified that he hadn’t meant that whispered promise at the edge of the pit. The light flashed and disappeared. “Don’t leave me! Finn! Don’t go!”

“Don’t be a bloody idiot.” The rope around me tautened. “The bulb blew, that’s all. Now face the wall. Use your feet to keep away from the sides. Ready?”

And he was dragging me through heaven-knows-what, out of it, up the slippery wall of my prison and into the land of the living.

It seemed to take forever, but at length I lay in the mud, retching, crying with cold. And fear. And relief. Letting the rain pelt the muck and slime from my face.

Finn untangled me from the rope. “You little fool. You’re lucky I can’t touch you! I’d clip you round the ear! You could have killed yourself in that car! What the hell were you doing, pulling a stunt like that?”

I coughed again. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

His teeth gleamed in a flash of light from the sky. “I always wear a seat belt, remember? Lucky for both of us, or Mike might have managed more than he did. Although you were doing fine on your own until--”

"Until you interferred." I looked away from his shadowy bulk. "You should've let me kill him. Why the hell did you warn him?"

"I need him alive for the moment. Besides," he hesitated. "You don't need a murder on your conscience."

“I don't have a conscience, remember?" Even now, the memory of his blistering words so long ago still hurt. "I'm socially irresponsible."

"I said a lot of crap back then."

"Yeah, you did." And meant it at the time. "But you came back for me tonight." That fact was worth something, wasn't it? Worth hope? I wouldn't think about it. Couldn't. Oh God. I couldn't go through it all again. "Will letting me go screw things up for whatever you have planned?"

“No. This operation ends in a couple of hours. After that I’m out. But I can’t risk any more now.” Finn hunkered down beside me and pointed toward the hills. “Those two trees on the skyline?” I nodded. “Aim for the gap in the middle. Another couple of hundred metres more and you’ll see the road. Keep out of sight, and whatever you do don’t go to McCrae’s place. Things are going to get nasty there. Can you make it to the Havers’ farm?”

I nodded again. “Don’t worry about me. You’re the one who needs to be careful.”

“I always am.” He sighed. “That’s where I went wrong. I shouldn’t have been so careful with you.” He sighed again and straightened up. “You might smell like shit and look like hell but I know what's under it all. So bugger off, there’s a good girl, before I’m tempted to re-aquaint myself with what I’ve been missing the last seven years.”

“You might be tempted,” I dragged myself to my feet. “But you won’t give in. That’s where you really went wrong. I never could compete with the adrenaline of undercover work. Leaving you was the best thing I ever did.” I shivered as the wind cut through my clothes, and uncertainty cut through my heart. “But thanks, Finn. I owe you.”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, you do.” He swung back onto the bike. “Remember that.” The engine throbbed into life. “And, Abby?”

“Yes?”

"One day I'm going to collect.”

The End