Brick crushing bone is what she’d expected the first time. The second time she’d punched harder, twisting on her heel and landing in a scrabbled heap on the corrugate carpeted floor, knuckles untouched.
No blood. No pain. No graze.
She put down the glass. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Her eyes flicked over his face, blue pursuing grey. His expression remained unchanged. The lack of regret chilled her spine with the unerring sensation that she’d gotten something wrong.
Continue reading “Divine Hell Fiction: Treachery”
