Hands, fists, knees, elbows; she used every body part she could. “Fucking bastard, I’ll kill you!”
Moving made her head scream mutiny and her damned stomach answered.
You’ll never take me alive, she thought.
Only she could think to make fun of herself in the current situation. If that’s what she meant… She was probably going to die. She’d rather die now then let some freak touch her. She knew she had that choice and she had no problems making it.
Her vision cleared another fraction but still shed no light on where the hell she was and who the hell she was fighting. Tall. Big. That was good enough for the moment. Fast. He was blocking all her hits. That was not good. She had thought she was doing some damage.
She’s started to hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t going to die today. Then she saw him reaching for her hands.
“FUCK YOU!” She screamed and caught him off guard with a knee to the stomach. She was aiming for his balls but Lou was good at moving just fast enough for her to either miss or connect with another less incapacitating area. Still, he obviously didn’t know how well she could adapt in a fight. Especially, one for her life. Growing up as she did, Dae learned early how to survive. She did what she had to, damn the consequences. Never mind that as big as Lou the husky voice rapist was, it wouldn’t matter if she were a martial arts master or a fucking Jedi Knight. He’d still be able to kick her girly ass, but she wouldn’t let anybody break her. She meant that she’d die first.
I won’t be a victim ever again.
“Stop hitting me!! I don’t want to hurt you!” Lou the rapist growled, slightly less visibly fuzzy than before. Yeah ok, she really believed him too. Not.
“You mother-fucking-son-of-a-whore-bitch!” Her scream sounded like a battle cry from one of those knights at Medieval Times. He made a grab for her right arm –Lou was out of his ever loving mind if he thought this would be easy– so she let him and kicked for his balls again. He immediately blocked with his right leg, which gave her the chance to rake his face with the nails of her left hand as close to the eyes as she could get. She thought if she had him occupied –or in pain–, he’d loosen his grip on her arm. Unfortunately, things don’t go the way of Lifetime movies.
Real life sucked ass. His hold actually tightened and she attempted another rake at his face with her left hand turned claw. But he adjusted because apparently lady luck had left the building, anticipated her claw, shifted his torso back while grabbing her forearm and finally succeeded in pinning her down on the floor with his body weight. How in the hell had she let him get her on her back again!
NONONONONONONONONONO!
The panicked part of her head screamed. The other part of her was beyond enraged. Two parts, never connected, never agreeing. Before she would have either been frenzied to the point of animalistic or panicked so bad she’d be curled up in a fetal position. Better frenzied, at least she could push the panicked part of her back where it belonged before… she felt a pain in her chest and knew with as much certainty that her name was given to her has a cruel joke that the panicked part of her was winning. Along with the panic came everything she’d ever buried deep and that was not a good thing. Time slowed but she knew that it was only two breathes –measured by his breath, not hers, while all this was going on in her head.
He looked pissed. He reeked of it. Good.
She gathered as much saliva as she could and spat it out at him with as much force she could muster. In the movies, she would have caught him right in the face with the monster luggie. He would have then used one hand to hold her arms down and smack her in the face, giving her a chance to loosen an arm and knock him over. Or something like that.
But seriously, what was she thinking? A, this was not a movie and b, did she forget about gravity!? The spit made it about an inch away from her face and then dropped back down on her cheek with a splat. Lovely.
He was looking dead in her face as it made impact. He grinned; his blue-black eyes alight with amusement. Then he started to laugh while he was still holding her down. She felt the anger in her start to rise over the panic. It was like a river threatening to overflow in the unsuspecting town at any second. She was so angered, actual thought took a back seat and all that was left was animal rage. And he found it funny. The angrier she got, the more he laughed. His face came closer to hers while he was laughing his ass off.
Was this her saving grace? She was hoping. Her God-less butt would have even prayed. She slammed her head into his with as much force as possible. Not really her original plan but she had to work with what she got. The impact of her head bashing his made her wish she just let him take and kill her, because –fucking shit– she probably split her head open from what she could tell of the pain that assailed her. He leaned to the side once she hit, dazed. She ignoring the throbbing of her own head and she wiggled her wrists free. She brought her nails in claw formation down on his neck, pushing him over in the process. She jerked her hips sideways and slid up some to get away. As soon as she had her footing, she felt the dizziness.
Head butts are not only dangerous for the head buttee. As the headbutter, she was feeling the same pain but for her it was less unexpected. She staggered and tried to regain her balance, but the floor blended with the ceiling and before it was done sorting itself out she was pinned.
For the third time today. Sonabitchbastard!
If he looked pissed before she didn’t know what to call the expression on his face now. He smelled… it was him with that so good which only confused her because as an evil kidnapping rapist he shouldn’t smell like that. He should smell like he did before. And not smell winter snow, wild forest and man… She was so confused. Head butt. She blamed the head butt.
He was staring at Dae’s face before he moved his gaze down to her mouth.
Alarm blared in her head like there was a fire. With that teensy distraction and a yank of strength, most likely from the insanity caused by the shrill panic she felt because she technically was losing, –not that she’d ever admit it until she was dead and then who the hell would care at that point– she got her arms free. She punched him in the throat while he made a grab for her left arm because apparently, that was a better choice than the right. He had her left wrist in a tight grip and she launched her right hand-claw at his face. Again. And he growled like an animal. The sound was… she couldn’t even identify how she felt when she heard it. It touched something in her… Head butt. It’s all the head butts fault.
He jerked as her hand-claw ripped some more skin from the same cheek she got a hold of before. Legs tangled together as she shifted out from underneath him and she was thanking lady luck –who must have returned, Dae would need to bake her a cake– because at least the bastard wasn’t on top of her. She needed this bastard down if she was ever thinking about coming out of this alive and, preferably, with him not on her again. But he kept on grabbing for her arms, throwing his weight on her to get her down as the panic kept eating at her gut and chest.
She was out of options. He anticipated every jerk, every move before she did it and when she adjusted, he adjusted too. There was entirely too much fighting for her life and not enough damage. She had to do something! The panicked voice was screaming at her and she just couldn’t take it anymore so she did the only thing she could think of being out of options, out of strength, out of ideas –and out of common sense. It slipped in her throbbing head like Kaa’s song from the jungle book and immediately she was under its spell. One second she was kicking and trying to extricate her wrist. The next second she latched her legs around his waist, bucking her body like a bull trying to get him on his back. The third second she slammed her head into his with all she had. Again.
Head butt was the word bouncing off the walls of her head like an echo in a great hall and through the panicked shrieking she couldn’t think why that was bad until her stomach twisted. But the stars were so pretty! And there were birdies! She wanted to watch the birds and trace the cons
tellations but there was that distracting screeching noise and all she could think of was stop killing that Gods damn bird!
Koda watched her sleep. Or he wished she was asleep. Koda didn’t like to think she was unconscious, which she actually was. He was lucky he had a hard head. Head trauma, humans were so susceptible to bouts of unconsciousness. It was actually somewhat sad. He had to tie up this beauty, his beauty, as he liked to think of her. A necessity he told his wolf. He tied her up out of necessity but his wolf still growled in protest. His wolf didn’t care about necessity. Wrong, his wolf growled. Protect.
The man knew he really didn’t have a choice, his beauty kept attacking him. Wouldn’t listen to reason or logic, just fought with a strength he never knew humans had. She didn’t shed a single tear. He’d seen humans who where panicked, who were scared beyond reason. They’d cried and pray for someone to save them. They were lucky he was around; otherwise, they would have waited forever for their ‘divine intervention’. But his beauty, she was amazing. He smelled the fear –at some points it was nauseating for him to smell her fear of him– but it was almost bleated out by her anger and her own scent. That lovely scent flooded his nostrils as he sat across the room from her.
So far, but so close…
Koda gave himself a lot of space. He had never been amazed with a human before. Nor had he ever found one whose scent reminded him of a something he couldn’t quite place. However, it was there, in his memory. His wolf wanted to go curl up in her lap until she awoke. And that was a very bad idea. At least that was what Koda was chanting repeatedly like a religious zealot in his mind. Koda had to fight both himself and his wolf so he didn’t get closer to the dip of her neck where her scent was the strongest. There were other spots, but he would never… unless she wanted him to.
His wolf was still growling and since his beauty currently lay quiet, he let him have at it. It was hard to sooth an angry wolf. At the moment the man was angry as well. Human predators, Koda thought in disgust. His wolf seconded the man’s opinion vigorously with a growl of unsatisfied vengeance.
Her eyelids fluttered. Koda saw those long dark lashes brushing her cheekbones. Her freckles, light and evenly spaced, glittered in the low light of the room. How Koda wished she would open her eyes and smile. Not very likely, but Koda could wish that one day, she would smile for him. Just for him.
There’s something that should be known about head butts to the sane in the population: good in theory, unbearably painful in practice. Dae’s head spun like damned Frisbee while her imagination ran wild. She pictured those lovely birdies flying around her head wagging their fingers (yes, these birdies had fingers) at her in shame against Aries (the constellation, not the God) in the night sky. Dae wanted to roll herself over, intent on not only killing her attacker but the bastard who killed that birdie. She hated people who picked on animals. But then the screeching animal sound turned into menacing growls before she could organize her thoughts.
What a weird freaking bird…
She breathed a few deep breaths through her mouth. She tried to focus on keeping her thoughts on important things, like ‘Yay, I’m still alive!’ and then it went to ‘Shit, now my hands and legs are tied together.’ Well damn. At least this wasn’t her worst day ever. Yet. She moved her wrists to see if there was any wiggle room to get free. There wasn’t.
Yes, it was the worst freaking day ever, she clarified her thought.
After another deep breath, she rolled her shoulders and neck. She was leaning against the wall in a corner of a room. What kind of room, she didn’t know. It wasn’t hers and that was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because she would have died inside if she thought the bastard had Iya tied up as well. A curse because Dae had some very nice sharp objects hidden everywhere in her room. They would have definitely come in handy now.
Her head ached. It was better; the nausea receded at least. Beggars and choosers, she thought in disgust. She was never one to pass on some ice cream because she really wanted a sunday.
She was sitting up, arms tied to her bound legs in front of her in such a way she couldn’t turn her wrists. She had no way to escape. Her knees were at her chest with her wrists tied to her ankles; arms pulled taught on the outside of her thighs, making it impossible to see were the knots were. With the way her arms were bound, she couldn’t even spread her knees. This guy was very smart. Must have done this before.
She swallowed. Why today, of all fucking days, did Dae decide to wear khaki short shorts? It went to show her that stupid was a three-letter word spelled D-A-E. A small portion of her butt cheeks had already slipped out of the bottom because her shorts must have rode up sometime between her bouts of unconsciousness. Which meant he was getting an eyeful; she felt his gaze trained on her like a snipers.
So…this was it.
It would take all the bravado she could muster to get Lou the rapist so mad he’d kill her before he touched her. She had to push past the fear and panic and get to work. There could be no other outcome. She refused to acknowledge another plan. She could do this, fuck knows she had years of practice pissing people off. Like she told Iya, she only needed to find the right buttons… A knot rose in her throat as she thought about her friend. Iya was going to be all alone now. If there’s a God in Iya’s heaven, he better take care of her. She felt a growling agreement inside, deep down where nobody could touch her.
“Has anybody ever told you that you’ve got a mouth like a sailor? And the temperament of a rabid animal?”
“Really? Really? Wow. That’s interesting –really? Wow. It’s just that –well,” Dae paused to affix her glare properly, “I can’t seem to bring myself to give a flying fuck what your perverted ass thinks.” Dae shrugged. “Call it a character flaw.”
Dae maintained eye contact with her abductor, knowing that men like that hated to be challenged. Unfortunately, hoping for anything that simple was always foolish.
Of course, this wasn’t going to be easy. Is anything ever easy?
Remembering herself again, Dae noticed for the first time in what could have been hours, seconds or days while she was unconscious –not one but two times– that he didn’t look like the same guy. He didn’t smell like the same guy either. Nor did he look like any of the other guys that were on that porch. Huh.
She guessed it was pervert number three, who was following number one. Or was that pervert two?
There was something about his eyes that looked familiar but she couldn’t place him. She made an effort to focus on his face. No, she didn’t know this guy at all. His skin was the color of burnt sienna. His hair was longer than most of the guys wore in college, raven black, that sat back away from his face with only the more unruly locks daring to fall forward by his ears as if they were they were the only bold bad boy locks he had on his head. It was that rolled-out-of-bed style she’d seen on men but they never could make it look sexy, just lazy. He made it look sexy.
His eyebrows were thick but not uni-browed; they looked naturally set in unison with his masculine face. He had dark ocean blue eyes, not like the wish-y wash-y kind she saw on most people. This man could have stepped right out of the magazine with that face. His jaw was strong and his cheekbones looked like Michelangelo chiseled them from stone. His nose was broad, not sticking out too far, not too wide either. It was in perfect symmetry with his bone structure. He had a few days worth of stubble but it hadn’t reached beard growth yet. She could imagine running her hands over his face, through his hair to see if it felt as good as it looked. His mouth was sensual, with full lips you could suck on for days… what?
She mentally shook herself. This must be that Stockholm syndrome people always say they had when they started chopping people up right along with their kidnappers. Mmhmm. That was it.
If Dae could have smacked herself, she would have slammed her face in the wall to knock her remaining sense back into place. It must be the concussion that was making her bat-shit crazy. Brain damage. Cranial bleeding pressure. Toxopl
asmosis. Something. It would explain why that scent was invading her nostrils like Normandy, making her body feel… relaxed?
It also would definitely explain the conversation that followed.
“So…” she let that dangle for a second, like a dingle berry. “Are you a Berkowitz, a Zodiac, or a Ripper?”
“What?” He looked confused. Just her fucking luck her serial killer didn’t even know his history. She sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Let me clarify for you since you just answered my fucking question. You sure as shit ain’t a Zodiac, his IQ was projected to be through the roof.” She eyed him for a second as he looked at her with a confused expression. She snorted. “Clearly, that’s not you, short bus. Since I don’t got any bullet holes in me, as of the moment, it’s likely you’re not a Berkowitz though I presume that could change since you got me right where you want me, you sick fucking bastard. Moreover, a Ripper would have already had me naked and gutted in an alley. So what kind of fucking freak are you?”
He stared at her. He didn’t respond and his face remained an emotionless mask. She waited four heartbeats as he stared before her anger hit a new level and mingled with the incredulity of how dense her serial killer was.
“Oh for fucks sake! Why are you just sitting there like stupid’s your day job? You got me, motherfucker, make a move you sick fuck before I figure out a way out of these ropes.” She would, sooner or later. There had to be a nail sticking out of the wall or maybe if she frayed the rope with her own nails…
His staring was freaking her out. Come on, she insulted his intelligence (men and the seriously deranged hate that), called him names, pointed out he’s a freak (again, men and the seriously deranged also hate that), and threatened him. He should be seething; he should be trying to scare her. But noooo, this guy just sat there. Like the proverbial bump on the log.
Lost & Found (A Lost Ones Novel Book 1) Page 5