by Amy Cook
“Thank you, Harley.”
“Sure.” He wiped the tears away again, shaking his head. “I don’t like seein’ you cry, kid. But sometimes, I guess ya gotta do it to ever move on.” She sniffed.
“Did you cry?”
“Like a baby,” he admitted gruffly. She smiled a watery smile, leaning in for another hug.
“You’re a great guy, Harley. A great guy, and a great friend. Which, I hope you know, means you’re kind of stuck with me from now on.” Harley chuckled softly, resting his head on hers.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re kinda growin’ on me too, Thumbelina.” He could feel her lips pull up into a small smile against his chest. When she pulled away her eyes were clearer, if not dry.
“I’m sorry I said I hated you, Harley. I don’t. And I shouldn’t have said those things about your genes and having no feelings. That was a low blow, and I didn’t mean it, either.” He shrugged, still not sure how to feel about her adamant acceptance of his true nature.
“Y’all needed an outlet, I just provided it for ya. And uh…sorry ‘bout yellin’ and cussin’ at ya the way I did. It wasn’t real gentlemanly of me. I was tryin’ to make ya mad…” He was annoyed at the embarrassed flush spreading across his cheeks, but he deserved it. If pops had heard the way Harley had spoken to her, he’d have taken a whole bar of soap to his mouth and a belt to his backside, no matter how old he was. Talking to a lady that way was never considered acceptable.
“I understand. Please don’t feel bad for it. I’ve noticed the way you’ve tried to watch your language around me in the past, and I appreciate the gesture so much. But today, I needed it. It got through to me, snapped me out of my walking coma,” she assured him.
“You were bein’ awful bratty,” he said jokingly, pulling away. “Ya know, you’re pretty scrappy when y’all wanna be. Now, what do ya say I teach ya how to hit the bag the right way?” She laughed.
“I think you’d better. I’ve heard that I suck at fighting,” Harley offered a wry smirk.
“Ain’t that the truth. But we ain’t got time today. Y’all gotta clean up that mug and go to work tonight.” He held up a finger, brooking any argument she might make. She nodded with a smile.
“Bucking up. I get it. But I think you’re going to have to take these things off me first. I don’t think I could take down orders with them on.” Harley reached for her gloves, carefully pulling them off. He winced when he saw her raw knuckles.
“Probably shoulda wrapped those first, the gloves were way too big on ya. But y’all were being a pain in my…” He coughed. “Pain in my brain, as Caj would say.” Harley cleaned her knuckles up with a first aid kit and then walked her outside. He was relieved to see that Charleen had kept her word and dropped off his motorcycle. He rode with Amiel back to her apartment, enjoying her company. It was the first time he’d been able to ride at her side, rather than creeping behind her. It was kinda nice. When they reached her apartments he waited at the gates instead of following her in.
“Go ahead and do what ya gotta do. I’ll be back in time to follow you to work.”
“You don’t have to do that, Harley.”
“I’m your personal stalker escort guy, remember?” he teased. Her eyes took on a contemplative depth.
“You really have been following me this whole time?”
“When you say it, it makes me sound an awful lot creepier.” He winced. She smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair good naturedly.
“I don’t think you’re creepy. Not at all. I kind of like knowing I have a guardian angel watching out for me.”
“Angel,” Harley said with a snort. Her smile turned serious once more.
“But, you were there that night? When I saved Joyce?”
“Yep. It was a wild show.”
“Then it was you that I saw…watching me in the road?” Harley frowned. Watching her in the road?
“I was in an alley the whole time- didn’t wanna freak either of ya out. I’m a whole lot of sneaky when I need to be. In a purely non creepy sort of way, I mean.” Amiel matched his frowning with a deeper one of her own.
“It must have been a random person then, I guess.” Harley’s scowl deepened, and she smiled, losing their unspoken frown battle.
“I didn’t see nobody.” He didn’t like the fact that he’d missed something as simple as a random person walking down the road in the night. He sighed, then put on a grin for her benefit. “All the more reason to stalk ya, I guess.”
“If you insist,” she relented with a grin. “Just don’t go getting in trouble because of me. My guilt train can only hold so much.” She lightly punched his arm, and his hand reflexively shot out, gently swatting her hip. He shrugged apologetically, just grateful it hadn’t been her thigh this time. Luckily she still didn’t seem to mind his instinctual reactions, seeming to even find it humorous.
“Mine, too. So try not to get beat up while on my watch, yeah?”
“Deal.” That cursed dimple showed through in her cheek again, and Harley loved every minute of it.
Epilogue
Amiel
True to his word, Harley had escorted her to and from work that night. It felt nice being able to ride side by side with him. She thought Harley felt relieved to not have to hide in the shadows anymore, too. Work had gone without anyone noticing something was different about her. Joyce wasn’t on shift that night, and she was about the only one who would have cared anyways. Occasionally Amiel would feel the tears coming on again. She’d let them flow for a few minutes, draining away her sorrow, before shoving a bright smile back onto her face. Harley was right. Sometimes you just had to cry in order to have a chance of moving on. And she did want to move on. Jaron had made a sacrifice for her, a sacrifice of pure love. She had no right to scorn the gift he’d given her. It would be hard, but she would try her best for him.
Harley had given her a light punch on the arm when she came out of the diner, telling her she’d done a great job. He admitting to having driven by to check in on her several times that night, to make sure she was still bucking up. She loved that he cared enough to do it; it felt nice knowing someone was looking out for her. When he dropped her off that night, he told her she was a hellcat with a bright future. And when he said it, she believed it.
But when she woke up in the middle of sleeping, scratching at her neck, clothing soaked in a cold sweat, Amiel had to wonder if he was right about her future. She had no proof, no evidence to confirm her fears, only the disturbing dream she’d just woken from. In her mind that dream had seemed so real- too real to be just a dream. It had felt more like a memory. She’d been dreaming about fighting the Rabids at the warehouse the day before. And in that dream, a Rabid had bitten her, just seconds before Harley shot it. She gripped her bare neck. It had to be a dream. It just had to be.
The Raider
The Raider watched the woman flop back on her bed, clutching the tags to her chest. He grinned deviously. He enjoyed these cameras that his master had had him secretly install in her apartment after she’d moved in. They’d had to wait for her first day of work, needing enough time to install them without her around. But the wait had been well worth it. He particularly enjoyed the bathroom cameras. The vent above the shower afford such a…tasteful view. His leer grew, a long finger rubbing along the length of her prone body as it lay on the bed. Amiel. Her name felt so strange on his tongue. It always had. He’d made up his own name for her a long time ago, a more fitting name; a secret name that no one else was allowed to know. His finger trailed across her again as she flopped around. She’d been having a nightmare. Something was haunting her. He’d watched her for so long that he knew her every move, every breath, before it happened.
The Raider’s emotions suddenly arced and he roared, throwing a nearby radio across the room. It shattered against a wall, tiny pieces bouncing across the floor. It did nothing to appease his anger, his thirst for blood. Nothing would appease him, aside from the death of one
man. The Hybrid. The Hybrid thought he’d been watching the girl for a long time, thought that he was her guardian. But he was an amateur. The Hybrid couldn’t know her like the Raider did. He wouldn’t know her that way. The Raider would make certain of that. He’d nearly killed him that night, not so very long ago.
His master had been complaining about the Hybrid, how he was always hanging around. The Raider knew all about that. He’d watched the Hybrid watching the girl for some time now; far too long for his liking. The Raider was her true guardian, the one who had been watching her for years. That was why he’d decided to take matters into his own hands. It was too bad the explosion hadn’t killed the Hybrid off- but that just meant the Raider had another opportunity to make a longer lasting impression this time around. He stared at the girl on the screen, curled up in a ball under the blankets. He’d always watched over her- and he always would.
Strictly speaking, he’d never been allowed contact with her. Or at least, that’s what his master had ordered. What his master still assumed was true. It wasn’t. When they found out about the girl leaving her nag of a mother, the Raider had felt so alive with the future prospects that he’d had to make his presence known. He’d gathered a small band of Rabids from the outer city boundaries, needing them for his plans. It was sheer luck that the old man had left the garage that night, allowing the Raider access to her full attention. He knew she would be watching the screens, drawn to them like a moth to the flame. She had always had the tendency to torture herself with dark curiosities. She was terrified of scary movies, yet when one was on the TV she couldn’t help but to watch it. She’d toss and turn with her nightmares for weeks after, lamenting her curiosity for the curse she thought it to be. It wasn’t a curse though, this the Raider knew. Eventually that curiosity would lead her right to his arms.
He grinned, thinking back to the night that he’d first made her aware of his full presence. Granted, he was sure she had felt him in the past. The way she’d glanced around, searching for the eyes she felt watching her every move was a sheer give away to that fact. He knew that she’d always known someone was out there, watching, somewhere. But this was different. He’d allowed her to actually see him- and it had been thrilling. He’d walked into the camera’s view, staying just enough in the shadows to maintain some mystery. The girl liked mystery. And then, he’d sent the Rabids slamming into the electric fields, sending them to their deaths simply to impress her with his strength and dominion. They’d followed her through the Vasts, heading directly to where his master wanted her. His master thought the Raider was simply following her to make sure she was safe. He didn’t know that he followed her with a band of Rabids at his beck and call. He didn’t know that his pet was teasing and testing his mad heart’s desire.
“There’s no such thing as coincidence.” That’s what the old man had said to the girl once. The Raider rather liked that. Because this, this was fate. This was destiny. The Raider had sent the Rabids against the fence again that first night. He hadn’t counted on her trying to fling herself into the field, however. That had been a miscalculation on his part. He would admit to that much. He’d been so eager, too eager, to show her his dominance that he hadn’t thought of her instinct-driven reactions. He knew she had the tags. He’d seen them around her neck often enough, watched longingly as she rubbed them, clasped them to her breast the way he wished to be. He knew of her brother, and the way the tags had always affected him, too. He should have known what his actions that night would have made her do. He’d made a mistake.
The Raider had withdrawn, mentally marking down his mistake so that he’d never repeat it. He was good at that. Once he made a mistake, he learned from it and never repeated it. His master was always commending him for that virtue. It was why he was leader of the Raiders, why he had the strength of presence to command the Rabids to do his bidding. And it was why he himself, would soon be the master.
After that night, he’d decided to use the tags to his advantage. He’d sent his Rabids after the girl as they raced toward the city walls; he allowed them to attack her. He knew the tags would protect her. He knew she would kill and survive. In the time that she’d been in the city he had sent the Rabids after her over and over again, giving her just enough time to recover, before sending them again. He enjoyed watching from afar, just as he always had. He loved the way she moved, so lithe and graceful, a beautiful avenging angel of death. Of course, it had become more complicated with the arrival of the filthy Hybrid’s attentions toward her. Often times the Rabids he sent for the girl would be intercepted by the pesky Hybrid and his relations before they ever reached the girl. But the Raider would find ways to send more her way. He had to. If she was to be his Queen, she needed to be strong. And soon, very soon she would be his.
End of book 1
Amy Cook- she’s just a small town girl with a penchant for creating wild imaginings in the midst of doing the dishes. Fortunately for her, she is able to turn those wild imaginings into the written word of entertaining proportions. When not up to her arms in soap suds, cleaning up the natural disaster that she and her husband call home, or chasing the four miniature wild savages that live within it, she does have a few hobbies. Gardening, drawing, crafting and insanely early visits to the gym are among these hobbies. If you would care to follow Amy on her future adventures in writing, visit her at the following locations.
Website-- www.authoramycook.com
Facebook-- https://www.facebook.com/Author.AmyCook
Table of Contents
EDGE OF INSTINCT
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue