by K. A Knight
"Hmm, how about hero?" he counters, winking at me, and I arch my eyebrow.
"How about little dick?" I reply and laughter tumbles from him, and he watches me with growing interest. Jago interrupts by stepping halfway in front of me and facing off with the new guy.
"Why are you here?" Jago grumbles.
"For the view of course," the newcomer replies and I bite my lip.
"He mentioned he was tracking them and we stepped into his trap," I add helpfully and he looks around Jago with a hurt expression.
"Woah, what a way to let a guy down. Betrayed at the first hurdle," he says dramatically and I just grin at him.
"You were tracking the scavs?" Jago asks, there's that word again. Scavs.
"Interesting," the new guy murmurs, and I look around Jago as he rights his bike and climbs up. "Yes, I was. Now if you don't fucking mind, I am going to collect my reward. Good luck Princess, don't let him rip you apart too bad." I open my mouth to let out a scathing reply, but he speeds away with a laugh. What an ass.
"He's right, I won't rip you up...too bad." Jago winks and strides into the house, and I am left gawking after him. What the monkey nuts just happened?
We search the house quickly before Jago sighs and tells me it's time to get going, that the smell of blood and rot will start soon and will attract ferals. I follow after him and once we reach the truck, I go to walk around to the passenger side when he stops and spins me. My back hits the hot metal and he hikes my legs up, I wrap them around him automatically as his lips meet mine. He kisses me harshly, almost desperately, before pulling away and dropping his forehead to mine.
"Do you know how fucking terrified I was when I saw you appear in that doorway, the odds were bad enough that I was going to get the fuck out of there, and then you just fucking appear." I go to open my mouth when he drops another bruising kiss on my lips. "I told you to fucking stay there, to watch my back." Another kiss. "Of course you didn't." Another.
Getting frustrated that he won't let me talk, I wrap my hands in his hair and yank his head back. He grunts, narrowing his eyes on mine, and I cover his mouth with my other hand.
"No, fucking listen. I am not a fucking damsel in distress. I didn't sign up for that shit, I get enough back there. You never hold back, you trust me to take the shit with the good and handle myself, so don't start questioning that now. Yes, I should have been up there but I saw something on the road, and not wanting to shoot to draw attention to us, I made a call. It might have been wrong but it doesn't fucking matter, I made it. Now, you are going to think carefully about your next words or I swear, you big cuntholio, I will never touch your special place again." I huff, glaring at him. Trying to act indignant while being pinned to a car like a five year old is hard, but I totally nail it.
I lift my hand slowly and he licks his lips and blows out a breath, his eyes watching me. "You are right," he grits out and I grin.
"Huh, how did that taste?" I ask sweetly, knowing how much it will have pained him to say that.
"Like fucking shit, but you are right."
I lean forward and kiss his lips in thanks, and he smiles as I pull away. "We need to work on your reaction times and teach you some hand-to-hand if you plan on rushing in," he adds, a smirk on his face as I groan. Of course the sick bastard turns this back to training
"You know, I think you just use training as an excuse to feel me up," I say snottily, and he leans forward, licking my lips as he whispers against them.
"And your point is?"
I groan and chase after him, but he drops me to the floor and walks away.
"You owe me at least two orgasms for that shit!" I call, and slide inside as he starts laughing. Men, you can't live with them, and you sure as shit can't make them give you orgasms during training it seems. One day.
The rest of patrol is boring, as we follow the route, keeping our eyes peeled. Jago explains a bit more about the clans and what scavs are, and I listen intently. From the way the elders in Paradise speak, I never guessed there were this many people left out here, and if they knew then why don't they help them? Or slowly bring us back into the world?
"I don't know, all I know is that out here...it's another life entirely. I don’t think the people of Paradise would survive. It's so..."
"Brutal," I finish, the man’s face I killed earlier flashing in my head, even knowing what he did doesn't make it better. I think this is just something you have to live with.
"The first time is always the hardest," he mutters softly and I glance over at him, hanging onto his words like a lifeline so I don't go back into my own mind and relive that moment again and again, like I have found myself doing all night.
"Is it? Was yours?" I ask, almost desperately.
He sighs, his hands tightening on the wheel. "Yes, I still remember the look on his face. The feel of his blood on my hands, the panic, and how fucking glad I was to be alive."
I stare at him as he speaks and I see the truth on his face. That death, whoever the man was, still haunts him. "Will it be like that for me?" I question, not wanting to see that man every time I sleep.
"No," he grunts, not looking at me.
"Why is it for you?" I press softly, knowing I am pushing and he might just shut down.
"Because he was my father," he spits out and I swallow hard, watching his face shut down as his eyes lock on the road.
I don't know what to say, so I reach over and squeeze his arm, but he doesn't react so I look back out my window, concentrating on patrol and trying to ignore the frosty atmosphere. The man’s face flashes in my mind again, the feeling of his warm blood seeping through my fingers as his eyes dim and his mouth opens, blaming me for his death.
“What happened?” The words slip out and I wince, I can tell he doesn’t want to talk but I need to, to distract myself, lose myself in his words, even his anger.
“Drop it,” he warns, his voice colder than ever.
Desperation claws at me, I need him now more than ever. “Come on, I told you mine, tell me yours,” I choke out and he slams on the breaks.
“I said fucking drop it, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he snarls and I rock back like he has smacked me. “Fuck, I forgot how immature you are.”
He turns to face the front as I swallow hard, looking away from him as tears well in my eyes. Breathing through it, I ignore him.
The rest of patrol is spent in near silence, only trading terse words when necessary. He is pulling away from me and I let him, knowing that I caused it, and he is relieving the pain. I know that better than anyone.
I go to speak so many times only to bite my lip.
At the end of patrol we return to Paradise, the mood so somber compared to our way out. Once inside the bunker he slams the car door shut, making me jump, and without bothering to unload the truck, stalks away, ignoring the questioning looks.
I know he needs some time alone to push back his demons, I am the same way, but it hurts that he felt he couldn't tell me that. Sighing, I push from the car and unpack. It takes twice as long, and I am covered in sweat and swaying from exhaustion when I’m done. Not wanting to leave anything for Jago to do, I go check us back in and answer all the questions, telling them he has gone to medical. They nods and accept this, waving me away.
Tired, mardy, and a little bit pissed with myself, I make my way back to my room. I really don't want to be alone but everyone else are just people I hang with when I am bored, and it doesn't really appeal to me right now. When I reach my door, I find Evan lifting his hand to knock.
"Evan?" I call out, and my voice sounds funny even to me. Wrapping my arms around my waist I watch as he turns, his face cold and his eyes are looking at everything but me. Just another thing I ruined.
It's like seeing him opens the dam and I want to cry, I want to scream, I want to hide in his arms like that scared ten-year-old girl again. I want him and he won't even look at me. I thought I was through having my heart broken by him, I was wrong.
"Ju
st wanted to see if you were okay," he mutters, barely glancing at me. If he did, he would see how lost and alone I was. How much my heart is hurting and how hard I am fighting to keep the tears at bay. I took a man's life today, I want to scream it at him. Beg him to take the memory away, as even now dead eyes flash in my mind and I have to swallow a scream.
Please, Evan...Evvie. Make it stop.
But of course he doesn't. I nod and he turns, and without a word he leaves. I watch him brokenly, my arms the only thing holding me together.
As soon as he rounds the corner I gasp out a breath, trembling as the tears track down my face. "Please, please don't leave me alone with nothing but...that memory," I whisper, hoping he will turn back. Hoping he will notice how much I am suffering. He doesn't.
Stumbling through the door, I slide down the floor with my back to the wall. The bed is still mussed from Jago and me, and I have to bite my lip at that. I wish he was here as well, to hold me in his big arms and make everything better. I wish they both were.
Laying my head back against the wall, I try to slow my breathing. Closing my eyes I draw up the memory of my mum, her smiling face as she tucked me in that last time and sang to me.
"Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. The sun will shine and the skies will cry, oh my sweet sweet girl. High you soar, on the wings above. Oh my sweet sweet girl. Love, you are love."
A sob bursts out of me and I bury my head into my knees, crying for everything I have lost, and everything I have to lose. I stay locked like that for a while before I push myself from the floor, stripping as I go, finally needing to get the blood off of me.
In the shower I scrub until my skin is pink. I have to force myself not to keep scrubbing. I break down again, curling in the cold water at the bottom and holding myself, feeling like if I don't I will break into pieces and drift down the drain with the water. It’s strange, now that the shock has worn off, all I can feel is the horror and like Jago said—the relief that I am alive. I was reminded today how fragile life is and how easy it can be snuffed out, and it brings all my pain and heartache from losing my parents to the surface.
Dragging myself up, I dry off quickly before dropping into bed, and close my eyes. Sleep doesn't come easily and when it does, it’s filled with empty eyes and bloodied sand. By morning my eyes are stinging and I am more tired than I was yesterday. Determined not to be broken, I struggle from bed and get dressed.
Happy that I have enough time, I make my way to the dining room and grab some coffee from the earlier morning server. Keeping my head down I head to the gym, and when I get there it is still locked but I am early, so I sit on the floor and nurse my coffee and wait.
He turns up five minutes late looking as shitty as I feel. He doesn't even speak to me and I can't seem to force the words past my lips.
Following him in, I throw away my coffee and warm up as he sets out the mats, my eyes flicking back to him. When he is done he waits for me, his eyes not meeting mine, and I sigh before standing opposite him.
"Jago—" I start but he cuts me off by running at me. I manage to side step him, just.
He comes at me again and again, not giving me time to talk, never mind think, as everything narrows down to avoiding his fists and kicks. One sneaks past and winds me, another knocks me on my ass and I start to get mad. Jumping up I run at him with a yell.
He was the one who took me out there.
He was the one who brought up the conversation.
He was the one who left when I needed him.
I let it take over, hitting harder and moving faster as I spit venomous words at him in my head. I land a punch, then another, until we are fighting for real. Neither of us holding back.
His head snaps to the side and we both freeze, I see blood running from his lip and he steps back. "Good."
I open my mouth but he grabs his stuff and leaves me there, bewildered and still pissed.
Screaming, I spin and take my anger out on the punching bag before running laps. I am a sweaty exhausted mess when the others start trickling in to use the gym. I get some funny looks but luckily no one tries to speak to me as I grab my shit and leave. I storm back to my room and take a quick shower, as a plan forms in my head. If I leave it to fester, this shit between us will just grow. I am going to confront the beast.
I have spent the last two hours hunting around this god forsaken maze and still no Jago. I spot Todd heading from practice and corner him, and he reluctantly tells me where Jago’s place is. Grinning, I start to jog away and I turn backwards to face him, yelling out, "Thanks again, nice balls!" I shout just in time for some guards to leave the gym. Laughing to myself I follow Todd's instructions, more determined than ever, my pity party fully over. So I killed a guy, yes that shit is horrible, yes I have to live with that, but I can't let that stop me, not now. And yes we said some words in anger, but I know I pushed him too far.
I find his place after ten minutes and I knock three times. Eventually I hear him swear before the door slides open, revealing an infuriated Jago, his mouth open, probably ready to tear me a new one, and he freezes when he sees me and snaps it shut again.
“What do you want?” he growls, blocking the door.
“I came to apologise, I am sorry for pushing you earlier. That wasn't cool, it’s just—” I blow out a breath and I see his eyes soften for a moment.
“You shouldn't be here, Brawler.”
“Jago, please. I just wanted to apologise. I shouldn't have brought up your father when you clearly didn’t want to talk about it,” I plead and I know I said the wrong thing when his face shuts down.
"You are going on patrol with Team C tonight," he says and I grit my teeth.
"Fine." Swiveling on my heel I march away, I'm not fighting with him all night. It is clear he is pushing me away. If he wants to be like that when I opened up to him, fine. I will accept his apology in the form of orgasms when he comes back.
I grab my stuff from my room and make my way to the hangar, not wanting to be late and wanting to meet Team C. I've met B and a few others, but the name doesn't ring a bell. When I get there I spot the C on a side of a truck and make my way over, only to stop when I see who else is there.
Oh fuck no.
"Well, well, well, slut. This should be fun," Eel jokes, grinning at me.
Ignoring Eel, I throw my pack in the back of the car and lean against it, waiting for whoever else is in the team to arrive. Eel slides up next to me, so close we are touching.
“Ready to have some fun?” He reaches out to stroke my arm and I decide to end this shit right now. Grabbing the offending limb, I twist it like Jago showed me and push his face into the side of the truck.
“Listen up dickwad, just because your mum should have swallowed you doesn't mean you get to be an insufferable cunt. You don’t get to touch me, and if you do it again I will break your little nose. We have a job to do, if you don't think you can do that with a woman on your team, tuck up your cock and run back to your mum.” I push him harder and he grunts, wiggling to try and get away. “Understand?” I ask and he yelps when I press harder.
“Yes!” he finally shouts and I let go, stepping back and waiting in case he decides to attack. By the looks of it, the ‘C’ in C Team stands for cunts, let’s hope the rest of them are better.
He spins, fury on his face, and I know he is going to attack when laughter and clapping sounds from around us, and I glance to see the whole hangar has stopped to watch. Eel’s face heats and he steps back, but I see the look in his eyes, and I know he wants revenge. I run my gaze over the crowd again and my eyes lock with Jago’s where he stands off to the side, he nods before striding away and I have the urge to run after him, but instead I sigh and lean back against the truck as two more men turn up. A little bit taller than me and packing some serious muscle, they look like nearly every other patrol or guard. They aren’t unattractive, but compared to Jago and even Evan, they are. One, who introduces himself as Ilo has dull brown eyes and flat blond hair. The other,
Newt, has sparkling green eyes but the rest of his face is forgettable. By the swagger in their walk and the confidence coating their bodies, they think they are god's gifts, but they are pleasant enough to me so I relax a little.
They shake my hand and laugh, ignoring Eel altogether. I nod in the appropriate places and try to keep my lips sealed, needing to make this work. We pack up quickly and I jump in the back with Newt, as Ilo takes the driver's seat and Eel takes the passenger seat. They share a few looks and that’s when I remember that Eel has been out with them before. So they obviously know him. An uneasy feeling starts in my stomach, but I push it away and return Ilo’s kind smile.
“Ready?” he asks, looking in the mirror at us in the back.
“Yep,” I reply, trying to stay cheerful, but I am not nearly as excited about this patrol as I usually am, and I blame that sexy, angry bastard lurking somewhere in the other side of the hangar.
Patrol is boring, and it's not just the sex I am missing...well, not all of it. What makes it even more boring and strange is how Newt, Ilo, and Eel all ignore me after we leave the hangar. They don’t even let me map read or scout, it’s obvious to them I am a burden and besides the few searching looks, and the worst ones, lust filled, I stay quiet in my seat in the back.
They throw me looks every so often and when they pull up to check a house in their sector, a rundown two story one which I am amazed it is still standing, I go to leave the truck only for Newt in the seat next to me to grab my arm. It feels like ants are crawling from his touch and I shiver at the disgusting feeling. I don’t know why, but I really don't want him touching me. Weird because he seems okay, nice enough, even if he is sexist. But as a woman, I think we all have this internal radar that throws warnings out around certain people, it might just be a feeling, but they tend to be right. Your soul knows, even when your mind doesn’t, that it’s a man you should stay away from.
I gently pull away but he keeps his hold, making me grit my teeth. “Stay in the truck, keep your eyes out,” he demands before letting go and slipping out to join the others. Flexing my arm, I eye the red handprint he left before looking out the window, that bad feeling still churning in my gut. They walk towards the house, nudging and laughing with each other, which only makes me frown harder.