Resistance

by Allana Kephart

  My shoulders tense and I clear my throat. “Hugh?” I ask. I am getting more and more convinced that I want to smother this man. Fi doesn’t get like this over just anything. “He’s not going to get anywhere near you.”

  That only seems to make it worse. She starts shaking her head and tries to push away from me, to no avail. “Y-you don’t underst-stand, Flint.” She’s quiet for a second and then a slightly hysterical laugh bubbles out of her. “I was an idiot and let him get too close — much closer than he should have.”

  “You’re not an idiot, Fianna,” I tell her firmly, shaking my head. “Far from it. I don’t know what he did, but none of it was your fault.” Seeing her like this is killing me. Fi is normally so put together, and while I’m all for her being able to actually feel things and share them with me, this scares me. If anything is clear from her state of mind right now, it’s that she doesn’t feel safe even here in her bedroom. I can’t let myself think about why, and the need to protect her from this asshole and anything or anyone else that could hurt her overwhelms me for a moment.

  She chokes on a sob and hides her face behind her hands; resting most of her weight against me again. “You don’t know. I never should have spoken to him. I was a fool, and that is my fault.” She pulls in ragged gasp after ragged gasp; broken wails the only sound coming out of her. “Once he was here and had people thinking we were together he…h-he did what he wanted.”

  She must feel me go rigid under her hands because she pulls in a huge breath of air and manages to say, “Look, I’m fine. I’m sorry I freaked out, I’m just tired—”

  “Hold on,” I stop her, and shake my head. I’m seeing everything in a red tint and my mind ricochets off several horrible definitions as to what that one sentence could mean. My tongue feels too large in my mouth and I’d like to throw my fist into the wall behind her, but somehow I get the words out of my mouth. “He never… Did he hurt you?”

  She closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to meet mine and more tears fall down her face. I slowly reach my hand up and wipe away what I can, my chest tight. I hate that she’s crying. It physically hurts me to know she’s in so much pain. And the fact that she’s hiding her eyes from me only makes it worse. “He wasn’t a very gentle person to anyone,” she says slowly; pulling her lower lip between her teeth. “He didn’t particularly care for me, and… I… I had to protect Eir. If I did what he wanted, he left Eir alone.”

  She sounds like she’s defending herself. Rage has a choke hold from my throat to my chest, and I quickly move my hands away from her; feeling them heat up and not wanting to scare her. “I’ll kill him. I will fucking kill him,” falls out of my mouth before I can stop it, and I don’t even realize I’ve said it aloud until she replies.

  “No!” she says; her eyes huge and wet and staring directly at me. Her hands come up and rest on either side of my face, her fingers trace over my tight jaw and she shakes her head. “You are not killing anyone because of me! I’m here, I’m alive, I’m fine.”

  You are not fine, I want to reply. You’re standing here howling in fear because your window was open. You’re terrified to even consider the fact this prick is still breathing. How can that be fine? By any means, how is this fine?

  I don’t say that, though. I look at Fi’s face — tear-stained and exhausted, she is still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. It hits me that she has no idea how much she means to me. She doesn’t know that she pieced a broken man back together little bits at a time. With her heart, her bravery and her strength she completely enchanted me. I find that I can’t upset her even more than she already is. So I don’t tell her I want to throttle the man solely so she feels safer, or that I want to stab him in the face for scarring her like he has. I grit out, “No promises” and sigh. I need to calm down before I make her more stressed than she already is.

  She tries to smile at me but it looks more like a grimace. She shakes her head and slumps against me in exhaustion. “Please, can you just…hold me for a while? And then can we talk about anything else in the whole world?” she asks. “Otherwise I won’t sleep tonight. I don’t want to think about him anymore.”

  “Of course, love,” I tell her quietly and press a small kiss to her forehead. She closes her eyes and lets me lead her over to the bed, and after I lay down she collapses right on top of me. She slides her arms around me and burrows into my chest while she sniffles and tries to get her breathing under control. I hold her close, wanting nothing more than to make the rest of the world go away for her for a little while.

  Chapter 30—Fi

  September 2102

  I honestly cannot recall ever being so emotionally wrung out in all of my life. This feeling of having torn out most of the secrets inside me and laying them out for Flint’s inspection makes me anxious. So many thoughts are ricocheting through my brain that I have to close my eyes to try and focus on just one. I decide to give up on thinking for the day when I feel his warm hand start rubbing small circles on my back. Once I focus on his hands on my back rather than the insanity in my head, it doesn’t take long for me to feel like I can breathe again.

  I’m so relaxed my eyes are drifting closed when Flint asks, “So what would you like to talk about, love? Baby chickens? Maybe making a jungle gym in the basement?”

  I can’t hold back an outburst of giggles. “Baby chickens? Have I ever seemed inclined to talk about baby chickens before?”

  He shakes his head and shrugs. “Hey, I can't read your mind. For all I know, one of your life-long dreams is to have a legion of baby chickens.”

  I can’t stop giggling now, which I’m sure was his goal. “I can promise you that one of my life long dreams is not to have a legion of baby chickens.”

  “So you have something against baby chickens? I’ll make a note of this.” He smirks and looks as though he’s trying not to laugh.

  I smack his shoulder lightly, still giggling. “I did not say that, ass.”

  “It was implied.”

  I’m giggling even more now. “Was not.” I poke him in the gut. “Do you have any strong feelings on barnyard animals I should know about?”

  He laughs. “I'm a fox, love. I try to avoid barnyards and the animals in them as much as possible.” He shakes his head. “Farmers and their damn guns…"

  “Hmm, I didn't think of that.” I sigh; shuddering with unease just thinking about guns and how close I had to be to them today. “I loathe guns.”

  “Oh?” He blinks at me, smirking. “Prefer the poetry of a knife?”

  “Actually I'd prefer not to use any of it. Do you have any idea how those leather sheathes chafe in the heat?”

  He grins a bit. “No, I can't say that I do.” He is looking at me way too intently suddenly and I feel all the blood rush to my face.

  “Well I’ll have you know, it isn't pleasant; it hurts.” He chuckles and I pause to catch my breath; feeling the heat spread from my cheeks down my neck. He makes me nervous with his incessant gaze on my face. “What are you looking at?”

  “You, obviously,” he says, and I feel butterflies take flight inside me.

  My face flames with embarrassment. “I am not that interesting to look at, Flint.”

  He lifts a brow at me, still smiling. “Uh huh. Says who?”

  I raise my chin and try to will the heat to leave my face. “Says me.”

  He smirks at me in that very irritating, but somehow still endearing way of his. “Well I think you're gorgeous. The most interesting thing I've ever been privileged enough to look at.” He looks directly into my eyes and I feel the red on my face deepen as the butterflies swoop around and around in my belly. “Your argument is invalid.”

  I hide my face in his chest and mutter, “Well you’re very sweet, but I think your eyesight may be failing.”

  He’s silent for a minute and I hear him scoff. “For the love of…” he huffs, and then I feel his strong fingers tilting my chin up until his amber eyes are hooked on mine. “Has anyone ever tol
d you that you're stubborn as hell?”

  I swallow. “It's been mentioned a time or two.”

  He shakes his head at me. “You really have no idea, do you?”

  Lost, I blink in confusion. “No idea about what?”

  His eyes get serious as he looks at me. “That you are the most beautiful, selfless, amazing woman I have ever met in my entire life.” His hand moves to my cheek and then his fingers play in my hair. “I love you and I believe you are the absolute definition of perfection.” He pauses. “And no, my eyesight isn’t failing.”

  Blood rushes to my face as I listen to the perfect words falling out of his beautiful mouth, and I feel a huge smile overtake my face. Happiness floods in and all I can do is stare into his eyes and smile like an idiot. He smiles right back at me. “You've got a great smile,” he says, and I feel my smile widen even more.

  “You do too,” I say, feeling dazed.

  “Well, thank you,” he says with a wink. His smile dazzles me and makes my face flush with heat. I bite my lip to keep from attacking his mouth and glance up at his eyes to find them locked on mine. I lick my lips and suddenly he’s only inches away. I feel his warm breath on my face as he moves closer still. I don’t know who moves next, but he finally kisses me and everything else falls away. I moan softly at the feeling of completeness that comes over me when his mouth claims mine.

  I wonder absently if kissing is always to be like this; this explosion of fire between two people, or if what Flint and I have is really as special as I believe it to be. His mouth is warm and open, his tongue dances with mine as he runs a hand down my back and over the curve of my hip, and I stop thinking and just bask in the feelings he brings to life inside me. He shifts onto his back and pulls me on top of him; my knees bracketing his hips. I press myself closer to him, feel my curves fit against his firm muscles and shiver in pleasure.

  He relinquishes my mouth, his lips trail to my ear and he rasps, “You’re killing me, Fi.” I don’t know if it’s his warm breath in my ear, his tongue grazing the outer shell of my ear, the actual words or the slow drawl of his accent that I feel low in my belly, but heat spreads everywhere and I exhale an “Oh” of pure bliss and tilt my head to the side to grant him easier access to my neck.

  Flint trails hot kisses down my neck as I slide my hands under his tee shirt and over his stomach. He makes a low noise in his throat and rolls us until he’s above me and his mouth is back on mine. I surprise myself by breaking our kiss to pull his shirt over his head and toss it to the side. He’s breathing heavily, his eyes darkened with passion and his hair disheveled, and I take a moment to appreciate the sight of him looking so undone. He’s beautifully put together; lean muscled with just a smattering of fine hair trailing down to the waistband of his jeans. I lean up and press my mouth to his collarbone, making him tremble, and I feel a surge of power that I’m the reason behind it. He groans and takes my mouth again, pulling me deeper into lust.

  Flint’s mouth moves along my jaw toward my ear and his hand slips under my tank top; pausing on my rib cage before moving further. I arch into his touch and his eyes are locked on mine as he slides his hand up and lightly grazes the underside of my breast before exploring further. I gasp in pleasure and lean into his touch; his eyes still gauging my every expression. I bite my lip because the feel of his hand on my bare flesh is making me crazy. I say his name breathlessly and he brings his mouth back down on mine, smothering my moan.

  Yearning like I’ve never known courses through me everywhere his mouth or hands touch me and I am drowning in this ache to be closer to him. I let my hands move over the bare skin of his ribs and he draws in a ragged breath before dragging my earlobe between his teeth gently. My fingers trail uncertainly over his stomach and skirt along where his jeans hang low on his hips and he sighs, “Fianna” like a promise; pronouncing my name with the soft a’s like it was meant to be. I shiver with him when his hands move under my shirt, pulling it up and over my head, and I feel heat flood my cheeks as he looks down on me with passion in his eyes. “You’re so beautiful, mo gradh,” he whispers, and then his mouth moves from my ear to my neck and then lower.

  My fingers fist gently in his hair and I am about to ask him what he just called me when I feel his mouth on my breast and I lose the thought. I lean into the sensation he’s building and breathe his name. Wrapping my legs around his hips, I pull him down onto me and he goes still for a moment; a low groan slipping from between his lips. I only have a moment to wonder if I did something wrong because his mouth descends on mine again; tangling a hand in my hair as he runs the other down my side before gripping my hip and arching into me, letting me feel his need.

  Flint kisses his way down my body and wrings a small sound of pleasure from somewhere deep inside me when his teeth graze the skin over my ribs. When his fingers dip into the waistband of my shorts and skim along my bare skin, anxiety shoots through the cloud of desire in my brain and I stiffen involuntarily.

  Memories of last summer flood in and I’m back there in the spare room of Sean’s apartment with Hugh above me; his bulk holding my body to the bed while one of his hands holds my wrists together above my head. It’s hot and the air is stale, but I know without a doubt that if I make another sound he will end up hurting me worse. I know what to expect now, but I don’t enjoy anything about this act. I know I make things worse for myself by challenging him, but I just can’t seem to keep quiet sometimes. So I try to keep silent and still as he jerks my undergarments off and stares down at me with empty eyes. His hands are rough on my skin and I know there will be bruises left behind again when he’s done with me.

  I try to escape in my mind, thinking of books I’ve read, and pretend that this isn’t my reality. I’m not in this dark room with this man and his angry words. When his hard voice bemoans how small I am, I feel the pain of his squeezing hands and hold in the tears that want to fall. I try to jerk away from his touch, but that only makes him angrier and I’m rewarded with an even harder pinch to the sensitive flesh of my chest. He doesn’t stop there; poking and prodding me with blunt fingers while keeping up a running commentary on all the ways my body isn’t to his liking. I’ve heard it all before: I’m too bony, my breasts are too small, I’m too pale and I know nothing about pleasing a man. I told him once in a fit of temper that it never stopped him from taking what he wanted from me. There were bruises covering my chest and ribs after that little outburst, and I did my very best not to repeat that mistake.

  I don’t understand what women get out of sex, honestly. I’ve never experienced anything but pain during or after, but Hugh says that’s my fault. According to him I make it worse for myself and am too frigid to enjoy sex. I have no girlfriends to ask, my mother is gone and I wouldn’t have ever discussed this with her anyhow. I have no evidence to counter his claims. All I know is that every time he leads me into this room and takes my clothes off I want to kick and scream and fight, but I’ve learned the hard way that it won’t do me any good. Instead I bite my tongue until I taste blood when he uses his knees to keep my thighs parted to his liking. I hold in the tears as he drives into me insistently and try to ignore the feeling like I’m being torn apart. His thrusts are punishing and the pain is intense as his cold voice spouts insults in my ear. I just close my eyes and wait for it to be over.

  I feel Flint press a hot, wet kiss to my stomach and I’m jerked back to the present by the unexpected caress and the feeling it elicits. Hugh never kissed me like that before. Hugh never kissed me at all, in any way, shape or form. Ever. My confusion grows as want wars with remembered pain in my head. I know Flint would never set out to harm me, and what I share with him is nothing like I’ve experienced before, but I honestly don’t know what to expect. He kisses his way back up my body and I relax in slow degrees the closer he gets to my mouth. He claims my lips in a searing kiss and I move my hands to his shoulders. Holding him close to me, I try to make myself forget about everything but this man.

  He senses the sh
ift, of course, and moves his mouth to my ear and whispers, “Are you okay, love?” I quiver in response. He brushes a stray hair off my face, traces his finger down my cheek to my lips and my breath catches in my throat.

  I manage a nod and he braces his head on his hand; his elbow on the pillow next to my head, the rest of his body still pressed intimately against mine. He drags a lock of my hair over my shoulder and traces its path down my body with his fingertips. His eyes are hot on mine as he watches my reaction to his touch play over my face. I see his eyes drift down to my bare chest and feel my face flame. I look next to me and see his tee shirt where I threw it in my haste earlier. Flint follows my gaze and pulls it over for me. He pulls back and rolls onto his side next to me to give me more room. I sit up and pull his shirt over my head, feeling calmer once I’m covered.

  Flint surprises me by pulling me back down to his side. His hand is hot on my waist as I lie on my side facing him. “Where did you go, love?” he asks me with worry in his eyes, and I run my fingers over his jaw while my heart rate doubles.

  “I’m right here…I just uh…I remembered something,” I say feebly.

  His brow raises. “Oh? What is it?”

  I bite my lip and stall. I really don’t want to answer him, but I recognize the steady look in his eyes. He isn’t going to drop this, so I blurt the first thing that pops into my head. “Thistle tea!” Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m an idiot. I know my face is bright red and he looks completely lost.

  “Pardon?” he says, and I cover my face with my hands, wishing the bed would just swallow me.

  “Thistle tea,” I say from behind my fingers, “is a sort of…um…well…” I groan out loud and rush on, “It’s an herbal contraceptive.” And then I roll onto my stomach and bury my face in the pillow.

  I feel his hand settle on my back and rub my shoulder and he says, "Don't be embarrassed, love, it's alright." He pauses. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with." I try to swallow around the lump in my throat. I want to explain, but I don’t even know where to begin.