A Cloak of Lies Ch. 02

Camille didn't acknowledge his presence when he opened the back door of the car. "Camille," he said softly, extending his hand. "I need you to come with me."

She remained silent, staring straight ahead as if he hadn't spoken. Sighing, rolling his eyes heavenward and saying a silent prayer for patience, he reached in to grab her arm. Quick as a flash, she jerked back away from him, reaching for the handle of the opposite door.

"Goddamnit," he hissed as he wrapped his fingers around her slender ankle.

With a vicious tug, he pulled her toward him until he could reach her arms and yank her out of the car. He brought her upright, his face only an inch from hers. He could feel her glare burning his skin, could feel the rage that still smoldered in her body.

"You don't have to like me,agapi, but you do have to comply. If I have to, I'll bind and gag you and toss you in the trunk." He gave her a malicious shake to punctuate his words. "Youwill get into that car over there, one way or another. Do you hear me?"

The two locked eyes in a battle of wills. Finally deciding he'd had enough, he pulled his wife across the rough ground, jerking her upward when she stumbled. He opened the driver's door of the Taurus, tossing her across the seat before shutting off the engine and removing the keys.

"Stay in this car. Don't get out. Don't go anywhere. I'll be right back," he told her as she pushed herself upright against the far door.

Shaking his head at her cold demeanor, he returned to the other vehicle. He gazed out over the calm, flowing waters of the Mississippi River. Thoughts of the past came back, reminding him of the plans he had once made with his wife, plans of buying a boat and exploring the waterways of the Midwest. All of that was over now, all of it gone on the whims of The Fates that controlled his destiny.

He picked up a large rock from the ground nearby, placed it on his lap when he climb into the old Impala. Firing the engine to life, he opened the windows of the car and placed the rock on the accelerator, gunning the motor. He stepped outside the car, reaching through the open door to drop the gear lever down into drive. Watching as the car raced down the bank and broke into the water with a loud splash, Niko wondered if he would be able to protect his wife. As the Impala disappeared under the muddy water he knew that life on the run with Camille was going to be one of the biggest trials he would have to face since reluctantly taking his position with the Company.

Confident that the old car was thoroughly concealed, Niko returned to the new one, finding the cold woman where he'd left her on the seat. She refused to look at him as he inserted the key in the ignition.

"We have to find a safe place to hide," he muttered as he pulled the car onto the muddied path. She snorted in return, the only admission that she knew he'd spoken. "Well, looky there, the lady acknowledges my presence. How kind of you."

When she offered no further response, he backed up, turning the car around and heading back to the highway. Once they were on the highway, Niko headed south to Gladstone, Illinois, and then west to the river road.

"If you want to ignore me, that's fine with me," he muttered sourly. "I prefer silence to your screaming tantrums, anyway."

His insult failed to rouse any retort from her as she continued to stare straight ahead. Stealing a sidelong glance at her, he could see the fatigue on her face, the strain of their unhappy reunion etched in the pallor of her skin. He felt true remorse for what she was going through, had felt it first hand himself, once upon a time.

Then he remembered the way she had put her arms around the man on her front porch and the kiss she had given him. He remembered hearing her voice as she called out to the stranger, telling him how much she loved him -- the way she had once done when they had been happily married. How many men had she bedded since he had gone away?

Upon seeing the glow of the approaching dawn to the left, Niko took a gravel road that led along the banks of the Mississippi. The road was rough, showing signs of recent flooding. The car skidded to a sudden halt, nearly sending Camille crashing into the windshield. She shot him a baleful glance as she righted herself, watching as he shifted into reverse and slung his arm over the seat as he turned to look behind them. He backed down the road, stopping again to survey their surroundings.

On the edge of the water stood a cabin on stilt-like pillars to avoid the flood waters that came up nearly every spring. It was darkened, suggesting that no one was there.

"Stay here," Niko commanded, bringing a flush of anger to Camille's lovely face.

He quickly made his way up the staircase that led to the door of the old building. It was rickety, the boards creaking under his feet as he crouched low, reaching the door and peering in the window. It looked as though no one had been there in a long time. The place would have to do, as long as he could find someplace to hide the car.

He pulled a small leather case out of his hip pocket, opening it to reveal a set of small tools designed to open locks. The lock on this door posed no problem for him, opening with minimal effort. Taking a few moments to explore the inside, he discovered that the electricity had been shut off and there was a thick layer of dust on everything. He found one small bedroom with a passable bed.This will work, he decided as he returned to the car to get his wife.

"We'll stay here, Camille," he said as he opened her door.

He had to pull her arm to get her moving, and drag her to the wobbly staircase. Pushing her along, he managed to get her inside, telling her to stay put while he hid the car. It didn't take him long to hide the vehicle in the overgrowth of brush near the cabin. He grabbed the supplies they would need out of the trunk and returned to find Camille standing in the ramshackle kitchen where he had left her. She was hugging herself, shivering in the dank chill of the cabin's interior.

He cursed under his breath as he remembered her jacket, laying in the floorboard of the Impala at the bottom of the river. Pulling off his shirt he wrapped it around her shoulders only to see her throw it off onto the dusty floor. He snatched the garment out of the dust, giving it a vicious shake to dislodge the dirt. With a satisfied smirk he watched her sneeze copiously at the cloud of dust he'd stirred.

"Serves you right," he said as he grabbed her arm and steered her to the back of the little cabin.

She turned to glare at him when he shoved her into the small bedroom, her eyes flashing defiance at the sight of the small bed. He couldn't help the mocking grin on his face as he opened his bedroll and spread it on the bare mattress, before shoving her down to sit on it.

He opened the small box of supplies and set it next to her. "Eat something," he ordered as he left the room to make a final check outside the building.

When Niko returned he found Camille standing, staring out the room's one small window at the sun that was breaking the horizon.

"Get away from the window," he barked.

She didn't move, didn't acknowledge that she'd heard him, though he knew she had. He grabbed her arm roughly, spinning her around and forcing her back down on the bed. She squealed in pain at his handling, rubbing her bruised flesh vigorously after he released her. He could see the purplish color spreading over her skin, felt guilt for the accusation in her eyes.

"Now, eat. We need to get a little sleep before nightfall. We should be safe here for the day."

"I'm not hungry," she groused, pushing at the box on the bed. "And I'm not sleeping with you."

"I can keep us alive, Camille," he whispered. "But I need your cooperation. If you keep fighting me, all you'll get out of it is both of us killed. We have a long way to go before we'll be even marginally safe. Work with me, will ya?" He ran a tired hand through his hair, scooping it away from his eyes. "Why does everything have to be a fight with you?"

"Because that's the legacy you left me with, you asshole," she snapped. "I had to learn to fight to survive. I had no one and nothing except an empty promise you once made me. You promised you'd always be there for me, remember? Remember those words, Niko? Do you?"

"Yeah, I remember," he ground out. "I also remember you telling me that no other man would ever touch you. I guess we're both a couple of liars."

For a moment he thought she'd lash out again, thought that she'd bare her claws and teeth and go in for the kill. But she only stared at him, a brief flash of forbidding pain in her eyes before she masked it with the rage that was always so near the surface. When he reached for her, not knowing whether it was to prove his authority over her or to try to comfort and soothe the hurt he'd inflicted, she recoiled, drawing back against the wall as if burned.

"Don't touch me," she hissed. "I can't stand to have your hands on me."

"You didn't seem to mind so much a while ago," he snapped back. "I think you really like it when I touch you."

He saw it again, that hurt on her face that gouged at his heart. She didn't hide it this time, let him see how deeply he'd wounded her. "You're a real bastard, Niko."

"I know. Lie down and get some sleep. I'm going to keep watch for a bit, make sure no one was following us."

Niko left the room, no longer able to stand how much the whole situation was costing him emotionally. His wife had changed, was no longer the sweet, loving woman he had last known. She had suffered, her wounds covered with the brittle exterior of coldness and anger. He had done this to her, that much was certain, but she could show a little gratitude for his having saved her life.