by Danae Ayusso
What the…
Huh.
I really hate him sometimes.
“I was numb,” I said. “Justice said it felt as if our shackles had been lifted and we were, had been pardoned from the prison we had been in since the moment we lost our memories of the first years of our life.”
Draven nodded. “And that’s why she wasn’t worthy of the warning,” he explained. “Those you’ve felt it towards before, that were worthy of your foretelling or premonition gift, were they worth protecting? Worth saving?”
“Yes,” I automatically replied. “Mom wasn’t.”
“Exactly,” he said, his tone soft but it was flooded with understanding.
“That’s why you’re here? To make me accepting of something that I was, that I would have, harbored unimaginable guilt for?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said with a wink. “And you have the nerve to say that I think rather highly of myself. Some people’s training bras.”
“Not some peoples. Apparently yours,” I grumbled, making a face, and he chuckled.
“I hope I didn’t lose the receipt because this one is totally broken,” he smugly informed me, sounding just like Christian, so I punched him in the arm, knocking him over. “And abusive,” he added.
Why I bother, I don’t know.
Draven’s as mentally exhausting as Justice is. I’m kind of happy they aren’t around each other because I don’t think I could handle getting stuck in the middle of the inevitable pissing contest that would ensure.
“Where are my Uggs?” I asked.
Draven sat up then grabbed my legs and pulled them apart, causing me to shriek in surprise, before pulling me into him. “Sorry,” he apologized. “That wasn’t entirely my intention and I didn’t see anything I haven’t seen countless times before.”
“Vile pig,” I sneered, trying to pull away from me, but he grabbed my ankles and painfully squeezed them.
“Stop assaulting me,” he warned before taking one of the socks then rolled it over my toes and down the length of my foot.
Not sure what he was up to, I stopped fighting him for the moment and watched him.
“There’s no reason to wear those ugly Uggs around the house. I will never forgive Dillon for getting those,” Draven said, watching what he was doing intently.
His large hands caressed up the length of my leg, pulling the sock up as he went.
The self-conscious side of me was glad I shaved last night, not that you could really see the blonde hair against my light tan complexion, but having Draven of all people that close to my body would have resulted in another felony assault if he started in on me over it.
“I like the Uggs,” I said, trying to distract myself from how amazing his hands feel against my skin. “They are comfortable… Sometimes my feet get hot in them.”
A small smile pulled at the corners of Draven’s lips. “That’s to be expected with wool,” he said before tickling the bottom of my other foot and I giggled, pulling away from him. “Adorable,” he cooed, taking my foot in hand and repeated the process with the other sock. “You still don’t know what your style is, do you?” he asked, taking his time to pull the sock up.
I shook my head, watching him. “I like my workout clothes but Price asked me not to wear them to school unless I need to… I think he thinks they’re my go to blanky of familiarity if I need it, and if he sees me in them for school it’s a sign that I’m having a hard time or need that sense of familiarity.”
“Because you are like ton père, and keep everything inside and try to handle it privately,” he agreed. “Price understands, but it would make it easier if you simply told someone when you’re having issues or need that familiarity,” he said, looking up at me.
I nodded. “I tell you.”
“You shouldn’t,” he scolded. “I am the last person you should talk to, Training Bra. The last person in the world you should confide in.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m Draven Van Zul,” he said as if it were obvious. “Besides, when man whores get bored they tend to find ways to entertain themselves,” he teased, walking his fingers up my inner thigh and under my shirt.
I slapped his hand away before throwing myself at him, tackling him back to the bed then straddled him. “Boundaries, Man Whore,” I reminded him.
Draven looked up at me and chuckled. “Oh yes, because the boundaries are oh so clear right now,” he said, absently caressing one hand up and down the outside of my thigh, the other was behind his head, propping it up.
“You stopped when I said to earlier,” I said.
His hand stopped in mid-stroke and he nodded.
“Thank you for doing that,” I whispered, looking at him.
“I am many things, Training Bra, but a vile bastard that doesn’t know when to stop isn’t one of them,” he said, softly smacking my thigh before caressing it again. “I understand your issues better than I wish I did,” he admitted, maintaining eye contact with me. “Never would I push you beyond them, Training Bra.”
“Do you promise?” I whispered.
He reached up and wiped away the tear that rolled down my cheek. “I promise nothing to anyone, other than you. You should really work on that,” he scolded with a wink.
What I ever did to get such a big hot mess in my life I’ll never know, but I’m grateful to have him.
I leaned down and caressed my lips against his cheek. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He turned his head so his lips met mine and caressed his tongue across them before I pulled back. “You’re welcome,” he said just as quietly. “Put the leggings on and join us for dinner,” he said, sitting up with me on his lap. “Unless you want me to carry you down there like this,” he mused, grabbing my ass.
Then again!
“The shit I get myself into,” I grumbled, shaking my head and he smiled wide.
I sat at my desk, drumming my pen on the open journal in front of me, trying to figure out where to start.
I’ve almost filled the entire thing, but I can’t share it with Price, not yet. I’m not there yet.
Sure, it’s supposed to be a means to open up without having to be face to face with him when I do. And yes, it’s a jacked up form of literary therapy I should kick their asses for forcing me to do. But, in the end, I’m sure it’ll be better this way.
Uh huh. I still don’t like the French fuck.
“Shut up. He isn’t for you to like or not. Draven made me understand that it wasn’t our fault and that Mom wasn’t worthy of our warning,” I said.
Isn’t that the same thing I told you?
“He did it with more tact and understanding.”
Overrated. I’m sure you listened to him because you mounted him like one of Daddy’s prize stallions.
“I’m done with you, leave me alone,” I huffed.
No, I’m done with you! You gave that annoying French fuck half of our bookmark. Why? What did he do that warranted having a part of the very last piece of Mother that we had?
“That’s a good question,” I admitted, looking at the red string tied around my wrist; it was half as thick as it was earlier. “If it wasn’t for that questionable man whore that you such overwhelming violent antipathy toward, I don’t think I would be here. You wouldn’t have been able to stop me. I would have ran. You owe him because if wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t have the amazing relationship you have with our daddy that you do.”
It will be a cold day in Hell when I thank that French fuck for anything! You will get my half of the bookmark back or so help me you-
“Warning acknowledged,” I grumbled, closing the journal before taking off the bookmark.
No, wear that one until I get mine back.
“Are you sure?”
Yes.
“Make up your damn mind!” I complained, wrapping the string around my neck then knotted it so it rested just below the suprasternal notch.
Earlier, when I started to head down for dinner, Draven ap
peared on the landing and shook his head, pointing back up the stairs.
Not needing an explanation, the yelling and shouting coming from the library confirmed it, I returned to my room to wait it out.
Greg and Price were going at it rather loudly. Nick and Simian were trying to keep the peace, but even they threw in the towel and pulled up chairs to watch the show.
“Ugh!” I complained.
I hate it when family fights like this. I don’t know what they’re fighting about, but I have a pretty good idea that I was the focus of conversation.
Go for a walk.
I nodded.
That’s a good idea, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll have a date with the punching bag in the barn.
The window opened without a sound and I slipped out of it and carefully walked across the roof as I had done so many times before. After dropping to the grass, I jumped, startled.
“Running?” Shep asked. He was sitting on the porch with a mason jar of ice tea in hand, watching the sunset.
I shook my head. “Going for a walk. I don’t like it when family fights.”
“You could have used the door,” he pointed out, giving me a look.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think Draven would let me out of my room until Price and Greg were done fighting.”
Shep’s top lip snarled upward slightly. “Oh, I see. So that’s why he’s here.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No, Draven wasn’t here. But now he is and it’s too dark for him to take his disgusting, slutty-self home. Thanks for that.”
I’m confused.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “What’s your problem with Draven?”
Shep shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, but obviously he’s done it again. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was hoping since Price informed everyone you weren’t to be touched that history wouldn’t repeat itself.”
Yeah, I’m really confused.
“Aw, is Ranch hand butt-hurt that Training Bra hasn’t played with his little knob?”
My head snapped to the side and Draven stepped out from the shadows, smooching his lips at me.
Shep glared at him. “You owe me four new tires,” he said.
Draven reached in his pocket before tossing four small pieces of metal at Shep. “Put the cores back in your valve stems. There, problem solved.”
I glared at Draven. “You’re the one that flattened his tires?” I demanded, smacking him.
“Oui, was there any doubt?” he asked, his accent flaring and eyes glazing over black.
I backed away from him.
I knew that look.
Never had I seen it from Draven before, but I knew it well from others.
That look was never followed by anything good, especially when I was involved.
I shrieked in surprise when I backed up into something.
Instantly Draven was there, pulling me into him.
“It’s just my car,” he whispered, his eyes white and black again. “Breathe,” he scolded. “Chassez le naturel, il revient au galop,” he tried to explain.
I glared at him. “Il faut bonne mémoire après qu’on a menti,” I sneered in his face and he lowered his head down to mine, his lips parting as they hovered over mine.
Without conscious reason, my lips parted as if inviting the coward to take my breath away with his kiss once more.
“Get off of her,” Shep warned, appearing next to us and tried to pull Draven’s arm from around my waist, effectively pulling us apart. The over exertion of force needed caused me to spin away from them and I fell back on the hood of the Porsche before sliding down it to the ground with a shriek.
They both hurried over to help me up, but I scrambled away from them.
“Don’t touch me,” I warned, my vision honing on a target.
My mask presented.
“See what you did!” Shep said, grabbing Draven’s arm, forcing him around to face him. “Why don’t you go take a long walk in the dark, you bastard!”
I’m not sure what that means, but the look on Draven’s face told me it wasn’t good and the underlying meaning would result in blood, Shep’s most likely.
“Va te faire foutre,” Draven sneered before shoving Shep has hard as he could.
Shep flew through the air, his progression nearly stopped by the red corral fencing he broke through before he rolled into the woods.
My eyes widened.
Draven groaned. “Merde,” he grumbled and disappeared before reappearing next to Shep and tried to help him up, getting a fist to the face in return.
I picked myself up, watching the two punch and kick at each other.
It shouldn’t have surprised me that Draven was the one that flattened Shep’s tires. What did surprise me was that Shep didn’t snitch in order to lessen my opinion on the annoying man whore. They were always fighting for attention, my attention. Why? I don’t know. I’m trying to be friends with both of them, regardless of Justice’s complaints about it, but they both make it impossible to be friends when they are fighting with each other. From what I can tell, the two are like brothers fighting over the same girl…
“Shit,” I huffed, just realizing what the problem is, and that problem is the shiny new toy in town.
I hurried over to them as they moved around the area in blurs of movement.
When I went one direction, they appeared somewhere else. When I hurried over there to try to separate them, they were gone again before their progression was slowed when being slammed into something. The side of the Porsche took the full force of Draven’s body flying through the air, causing the overly priced toy to rock up on two wheels before it dropped back to the driveway, the window shattering. Draven picked himself up, his eyes solid black, the mask of the damned contorting his face, making it appear slightly evil and unholy.
Amusingly enough, I think the look works for him and he can pull it off.
Shep waved him forward, his eyes solid black and masking contorting his handsome face
“You’ll pay for that,” Draven warned.
“No, I won’t,” Shep informed him before Draven had him by the throat before flinging him away from him.
“No!” I yelled, running for the bridge over the fountain.
Everything went black before light again and Shep smashed into me, knocking me back into a stone support post, knocking the wind from me.
“Training Bra!” Draven yelled and hurried over to us.
Shep picked himself up before trying to help me up.
Flashes of light flooded my vision before blotches of black floated through my view. I shook my head trying to clear it, but the ringing in my ears wouldn’t stop.
I’m not sure who pulled me to my feet, perhaps it was both of them since the hands around mine felt different from each other.
“Mikey, are you okay?” Shep asked, shaking me.
“You’re hurting me,” I stammered.
It wasn’t intentional hurting, he was squeezing my hand trying for my attention and shaking someone that is concussed isn’t genius in the least.
It really isn’t smart.
Draven growled. “She said you’re hurting her!” he shouted, grabbing Shep’s hand and rolled it back so he released mine.
My legs shook and the area spun around us.
The warm trickling down the back of my neck told me I had split my head open. Price will not be happy when he finds out how it happened.
I shook my head again, trying to clear it.
“You have to stop,” I stammered, trying to catch my breath.
It feels as if something is crushing my chest.
“Oh good. You brought friends to play.”
My eyes widened and struggled focused on flickering blur on the edging of the forest.
“No,” I stammered.
The little demonic girl smiled as she walked through the broken fencing.
“I want to play with them, too,” she informed me in a sin
gsong tone, a demonic smirk pulling at her lips as her face flickered between that of the little white girl and the demon beneath she struggled to hide.
“No!” I yelled, trying to pull the other two behind me.
Draven turned to see what I was looking at and his eyes widened a fraction of a second before the little bitch was directly in front of us. “Misha, look out!” he yelled, shoving Shep as hard as he could away from us.
He can see her?
Of course, Shep was going to fight him, and in the process, something smashed into the side of my head, knocking me into the railing.
Everything flipped around me, or it was flipping because I was tumbling through the air.
As quickly as it started, it was over with the stomach turning sound of bones smashing against rocks. The smell of death, decay, and blood all around me and flooding my nostrils and coating my tongue. The screaming from my father on the bridge was the accompaniment to the nightmare this night has become; his black eyes staring down at me sprawled out on the rocks below as if I was a broken doll tossed from a building and tears stained his cheeks.
Price’s worst nightmare and regret just played out in front of him again. Only this time it was a Van Zul and Shepherd that were fighting over a Simoeau. One was defending me and the other my boundaries. Ironic considering one doesn’t understand what my boundaries are and the other, the one that shouldn’t, is hyperaware of them to the point of making me remember I have them.
As if this night couldn’t get any worse…
Then again, I’ve never been known for my luck.
“Now you will play with me,” Dandy said from on top of me, her tiny, clawed hands wrapping around my throat.
“No!” Draven yelled and it was accompanied by barking.
“You are mine now,” Dandy sneered, her hands sliding down my neck as her hold on me tightened before she hissed as everything faded to black.
Coming Soon