Post by kayla on Mar 6, 2010 18:49:25 GMT -5
(( Okay so I finally got off my butt and got this cleaned up and all. It takes place immediately following the New Years Eve debacle that took place at Wicked))
The night had been almost too much for her, apart from the one incident in her life that sent her on the run she'd never encountered anything like that. Still covered in blood from splatters here and there and the nasty scratch on her arm she sat in the car as they drove back to Ty's place in silence, only the sound of the radio playing softly filling the interior. She forcibly resisted looking at him at first, not ready to face what had happened, neither the terrible parts, nor the surprisingly wonderful parts. It wasn't long before the purr of the engine and the ease of the seats lulled her into a drowsiness that she couldn't resist. The night had really taken it out of her. Within ten minutes of getting in the car she fell asleep, her head lolling a little sideways as she slept, her hands folded in her lap.
Blessedly there were no dreams or nightmares, her mind to exhausted to conjure up the images as she slept in the car. Only her easy, even breathing sounded from her as her body relaxed into the seat. Within five minutes of falling asleep the little bump hit in the road and the curve that moved her body had her slumping in the seat, her head sliding over and resting against his shoulder and the torn jacket that he wore. A bit of shifting and she turned in the seat, one hand raising and curling up under her chin, wrapping around his arm as she nuzzled her cheek against that warm solid expanse there. A soft sigh left her lips as her hair fell over her face, partially obscuring it and tickling her cheek.
The street before them seemed to blur as he pulled his rarely used BMW into traffic, eying the remaining police lights in the rear-view mirror. Talk about a night for the record books; vampires, strange women with the ability to use fire AND one helluva smack down between Lexi and that powerful monster with the big ass wings. An absent smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he remembered the thing's ugly face...now THERE was a hunt he'd be happy to be a part of. Gods, he could just imagine the fight that vampire provided! Nothing like those novice's green attempts to stab his ass or drunks from any normal night. He could just taste the blood in the air, and something akin to anticipation curled in his gut. Now THERE was a fight worth having...especially now that the thing had hit his home.
Home. The word surprised the skinwalker as he maneuvered the car down familiar roads. Normally, when he thought of home, he ended up picturing his quiet cabin in the European mountains somewhere...not the busy, annoying streets of New Orleans, and especially not the loud, obnoxious confines of Wicked. One of those vampires must've scored a good hit to his head, to make him sound so...so...
Well, whatever the hell he sounded like, the ability to describe it was completely beyond him with something clunked against his aching, slightly bloodstained shoulder. Instinctively, he tensed, one hand leaving the wheel as if to ward off a blow...but Hades, fists, claws and other sharp things definitely didn't feel like velvet against the skin exposed through the tear in his jacket. Nor did they smell like flowers. Glancing down, Ty eyed the head that lay so casually on his shoulder, practically personifying a bow string. Okay...so she'd fallen asleep; definitely a good sign that she wasn't in shock, after what she'd just seen. And back to those thoughts of 'home,' he had a sudden flash of those sweet lips against his, and his hands tightened on the wheel until the plastic cracked. Alright, so going into that train of thought with a certain woman snoozing up against him wasn't exactly a good idea while driving. He could deal with that. Moving onto other issues--
Aw, hell. So, not only did the sleeping woman want to torment him with her nearness, but now she was snuggling into his shoulder with her warm breath brushing against the side of his neck. Hades' Balls, someone was out to get him like there was NO tomorrow. But that was fine, he could still deal with it...Gods, he had HOW many years of hermetic experience? He should be able to tamp down on the sudden surge of- Gods, that definitely wasn't tenderness!- who the hell knew what with a practiced ease.
And yet, what he ended up doing was to dislodge one hand from the wheel and gently tuck the hair obscuring her face behind her ear. Gods, he needed to get back to his mountains.
What was a reasonably short drive became torturous to him, and he almost let loose an audible sigh of relief as the apartment building came into view. After parking the beemer in the garage next door, he glanced down at the sleeping woman beside him. Great...now what the hell was he supposed to do? Wake her up? Shove her over onto the window so he could get out? Gods, this was the Celt's area of expertise- how to be gentlemanly with ladies- not his! With a grumble, he put a hand on her shoulder, keeping her steady as he slid out from underneath her. Hopefully the girl wasn't about to grab for his jacket, but maybe the movement would jar her awake.
And, of course, it didn't. What was the words those kids on the street said? Oh yeah; AWESOME. Not.
With a grumble, he moved over to the side of the car, opening the passenger door with a yank. Even through all of that noise, the woman wasn't about to wake up- was she deliberately trying to make him crazy? He wouldn't be surprised- and with a martyred sigh, he lowered his bulk through the doorway and slid his arms around her, scooping her out of the car with ease. Gods, the waitress weighed less than nothing...and smelled so damn sweet. GODS. Definitely time to hurry his ass on into the apartment before he did something they'd both regret.
As that hand touched her cheek, smoothing her hair back she moved so slightly, nuzzling against the comforting feeling in her sleep, her little fingers curling slightly around that arm then relaxing, like a sleeping cat flexing in the sunlight. In her sleep, her dreamless sleep her face was peaceful, looking almost younger than she really was in the low light of the car's interior. Even as the car pulled to a stop she did not awaken. The night had really taken it out of her. The entire day to be honest, from the disturbing early morning peep show to the miraculous healing of her boss lady, it had all proved to be physically and emotionally exhausting. As she was lifted out of the car she turned her head into that wide chest, snuggling up to the warmth of the man that held her instinctively, a small shiver running through her as the cold wind of the winter breeze came in through the open garage door.
She was still barefoot, her shoes found upstairs unable to be worn, the one she'd planted in the middle of the female vamp's forehead melted beyond repair. They'd been tossed in the trash as she has cleaned up the place for Erik and Lexi so that they wouldn't have to worry about it. A bit of the ash and more blood had gotten on her but she'd managed to get the most of it off her hands and face, only her feet, legs, and arms still showing residual traces here and there, a smudge of black ash here, a smear of blood there. Even as she was carried to the apartment she did not wake, pulling herself closer to the broad mass of heat next to her instinctively to get warmer. In her mind she saw that surprised look on his face and the hint of a grin. She heard that rumble of voice in her dreams and it made a tiny smile form on her lips.
She didn't wake until the door to the apartment closed, lulled into comfort by the musky scent that too was warm and like home, a certain wildness about it that made her think of the woods and the clear springs that bubbled up near the barn.Slowly coming to she looked up, blinking and saw that face that had been in her dreams, still thinking she must be dreaming. Her hands went up to wrap around that neck and hold on as she murmured softly. "Always feel so safe with you around." Not realizing she is truly saying it. That was the beauty of dreams, you could say anything without consequence.
But if she were dreaming then why could she hear the sounds outside on the streets? A little startled she stiffened in his arms and looked up hesitantly before groaning and burying her face in his chest, taking in a deep breath of his scent as she blushes deeply. "I just really said that out loud didn't I?" she said and shook her head a little. "I'm sorry.. I just.. with all that happened tonight and then.. um.." She didn't know what to say, keeping her head down and face hidden.
Aw hell...as if carrying her sweet little unconscious body wasn't enough, now he had to deal with her now awake, conscious, moving...BURROWING self. Gods, would it be rude to 'accidentally' knock her out on the doorjam? Because Hades' Hairpiece, would it be easier on him if she were quiet and limp again. The arm around his neck was much too warm, lightly hinting at a mixture of blood and sweat and her face nuzzling his chest? Gods, it had been almost a quarter of a century since he'd last been with a woman. Did she HAVE to go and drive him completely bat shit crazy? It wasn't like he was normally angry, but now...Gods. There was just something mentally wrong with him, and that was that.
When she spoke, Ty almost breathed a sigh of relief...before a surprised chuckle tore itself from his chest. The words were murmured against his shirt, her voice slurred, which made him think that she was sleeping; definitely a good thing. If she was sleeping, whatever he had left in his 'honor reserve' would make it easy to drop her limp body into the guest room and limp on into the bathroom to patch up. Not to mention that she was obviously having some kind of weird ass nightmare to think she could be safe around HIM, of all people. Gods, if only she knew the skeletons hiding in his closet...though, his were the kind that would be more than happy to leap out and dance a jig on the coffee table. Safe around him? Gods, was that one funny.
But did that stop his arms from tightening instinctively around her? Or his stride to become a bit more steady, so as not to jar her? Gods, what was it about this woman that made his world turn sideways? She was so young, so small, so fragile that with one wrong move, she'd be broken in his arms. Yet, he just couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be in hers. To be...accepted.
Oh Godsdammit, he was sounding like a bleeding heart now. Quick, was there a fight going on anywhere? His reputation was shriveling up into nothing.
And then, because his night hadn't already been kicked to hell by vampires, her voice piped up again...but this time, she was so painfully cognizant that he was ready to swear like the soldier he was. With a martyred sigh as he managed to open the apartment door with one foot and his teeth, he shouldered into the familiar atmosphere and made short work of the distance between the door and his bed. Immaculately made, it was dark, wrinkle free...and looked really damn good with the little mouse on top of it. Not that she'd stay there for long, he mused with an inner smirk. As he extracted himself from her arms as gently as possible, he turned to stroll over to a chair at the opposite end of the room, peeling the ripped jacket from his arms. A wince stole onto his face as he flexed his aching shoulders, frowning down at a particularly nasty gash running from his elbow to the side of his neck. Damn, he was getting slow, if one of those child-vamps managed to score a hit on him.
"Yeah, you really did," He replied as he stripped off his shirt, forgetting for a minute that the woman behind him was likely to be scarred for life. There were gashes, cuts and bloody welts all over his upper body, as well as a few splinters lodged into his back. They would all heal quickly, but for the moment? They hurt like frikken hell.
"Don't worry, we can blame it on shock. 'Cause you must be real shaken up if you think I'm anything but scary, mouse."
There was no where to hide as she was sat down on his bed, her hands moving to rub her arms lightly as she shivers. Staring down at her dirty toes she tried to not look at him but it felt so much colder with him moving away from her. She glances up as he began taking his jacket off and then back down. "You should have woke me up. You didn't have to carry me." There was a small frown on her lips, afraid she was getting entirely too dependent on him and afraid he would soon grow to resent that.
She stayed looking down as she went on "But it's true...I.. I do feel safe with you around." she admitted. She saw out of the corner of her eyes the removal of the shirt as well, blushing a bit as she recalled the sight of him earlier that morning, utterly nude. She found him completely the opposite of what he thought. The sight of those scars did not repel her or disgust her. To her it showed bravery, a real man. She wasn't into those soft, pretty boys but men that worked hard and it reflected in their look.
"I mean...yeah, you...you can be scary...no doubt about that." she says with widened eyes and a nod. "But..." she hesitated a bit..."But when everything went crazy tonight and .. and I didn't know what was going on and I saw you down there I had two thoughts.... One was that somehow it was gonna be alright. The other was ....I was really scared that something might happen to you..ooo..OH MY GOSH!!"
She was on her feet, looking over at him and crossing the room to his back, her small hands raised to lightly touch the cuts and abrasions. "You.....you were this hurt and... and you didn't say anything?!" she said demandingly, her voice trembling and tears welling in her eyes. "OOooooh you.. you.. you stubborn ole pig headed oaf!" Her scolding was softened though by the concern so easily seen on her face and heard in her tone. "You shouldn't have been carrying me."
Her small fingers reached for the splinters that stuck out of his skin and carefully plucked them from him, dropping them in her other hand, her voice trembling along with her bottom lip. "You're all hurt." She knew she shouldn't care, shouldn't let herself get so attached but it was something she was helpless to stop as she witnessed the wounds he took trying to save people. Her included. "I don't care what ya say this time mister....you're gonna suck it up and let me take care of these. There's no way you can reach half of these."
The sight of his battered body and skin felt like a physical blow to her as she made sure all the bits of wood were removed that she could with just her fingers. "Sit down...I'll get the first aid kit and .....and...well you just sit there." she says and sniffles , trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks before he sees them as she turns.
Gods, there was something seriously messed up about this entire situation, he thought with an inner snort. The poor woman had just been thrown head first into a world full of nasties, and instead of falling into all kinds of female fits, she was...complimenting him. HIM! If only she knew the person she was calling a safety blanket. Would those wide, compassionate eyes still think of him as a protector when he gave into that little voice in the back of his head and started impersonating the President, just because he could? It had been so long since he'd given into temptation, but oh, the memory of that intoxicating taste of chaos was enough to heat his blood.
It really was a good thing that he had a brain in his head and a whole goody bag full of memories to keep him in the present. Hell, and people wondered why he was angry all the time. Forget the fact that for the past fifty years, being close to anyone, alluring or as beautiful as a doorknob, was enough to make him turn about face and get the hell out of Dodge. Add that annoying 'you know you wanna' voice into the mix and he was just a raging ball of frustration.
And as if those thoughts weren't enough to make his jaw stiffen to the breaking point, Kayla just had to hurry over and go all nursemaid on him. Hmm...which, he had to acknowledge with an inner grin, wasn't exactly too bad of a turning point. One brow raised as he turned his head to look at her, amusement in his eyes. 'Stubborn ole pig headed oaf?' Definitely a new one with that. What would it take to make her break down and curse, he couldn't help but wonder mischievously.
With a little growl, Ty lowered himself into a chair, grunting as she proceeded to pick the splinters out of his back. "It's nothing to worry about," He grumbled, obviously unused to the treatment. Hell's Bells...everyone knew to leave the wounded animals alone, didn't they? Yet there she was, commanding obedience as she hurried to the kitchen to get the first aid kit.
"I've had worse, Kayla," He went on, leaning forward on the kitchen table as if settling in for some polite conversation. What he really needed was a bottle of whiskey, a hot shower and some sleep, but a glimpse of the woman's face as she scurried past had him sighing in resignation. Fine, he'd let himself be touched, just this once. At least she wasn't going hysterical on him...or bringing up that kiss. Like a flash, any thoughts of 'hot showers' and time spent in the bed behind him had his mind taking all kinds of windy roads. Her head tilted back as he traced his lips along her neck; his hands on her skin and her body pressed up close to his...
With a shake of his head, he pushed up from the table. Okay, maybe staying in the same room with her while he was tired, wounded and so obviously off his meds wasn't such a good idea. "Don't worry yourself, mouse, I'm fine. Takes a bit more than a few puppies to take me down. You...uh...take care of yourself. I'm gonna take a shower. Then...if you want...we can talk. About the club. Or...something." Gods, he really was socially retarded.
She had already grabbed the kit and was making her way over to him when he stood up and growled about being fine and trying to walk off. She stopped right in the middle of the floor, eyes glassy with unshed tears. Yes she was taking it all in stride for now. Murdough women were strong women after all. They rolled with the punches, they took care of their family, kin, menfolk, and anyone else that might need it. Pillars of the community. Real salt of the Earth types.
But everyone had their breaking point and her world was about as turned upside down as it could be in more ways than one. She knew she should just let him go. Not push the issue. One, out of a sense of self preservation. He could get angry and lose that control and she'd see just what he did to those things did this night. It wouldn't be the first man she was wrong about after all. Two, ...because she couldn't afford to get close, not when in a month or a couple weeks, or any day that the local police got a little too interested in her that she might have to blow town and take off again. She shouldn't allow that strange feeling that started at the roots of her hair and melted like pooling chocolate, warm and delicious all the way to her toes when he kissed her affect her. She shouldn't.
But shouldn't isn't always the strongest reasoning or the most effective preventative. "Nothing to worry about?" Her voice was calm, a little too calm as she stood there holding the kit. A fine tremor shook her entire body from the fatigue, the emotional confusion, the stress of the night, and now her own anger. Her voice rose a little more, sounding incredulous as it did. "Had worse?"
She walked over to the table and slammed the kit down on the table in front of him, her shaking even more visible as she stood in his way, arms crossed as those tears spilled down her cheeks. "You are far from fine. You are bleeding. You are ripped from neck to elbow!! You have cuts all over you! Bruises! WELTS!! YOU ARE NOT FINE!!!"
As she screamed at him that was it. That was the point where she broke. There was no more stiff upper lip. No more brave face. It was all there, the confusion, the hurt, the fear; all there to be seen and read so easily. "You can't do that! You.. you can't just.. just swoop in and save a girl and be nice to her and ...and ...KISS her to where she feels weightless and the world disappears around her for a second and expect her to just not give a damn!! It doesn't work that way.. -I- don't work that way!!"
She drew away, almost as if sensing a hand reaching for her and glared, the color rising in her cheeks along with the tears in her eyes. "I can't just ...just not care! I shouldn't....I can't afford to but it doesn't change the fact that it rips my heart out to see you hurt like this and even more so that you don't seem to care about what happens to you. I saw you tonight... I saw that rage.. I saw how much you enjoyed it and you might think that that makes you a monster but it doesn't! I've seen monsters. I've seen people that hurt people just because they enjoyed doing it, people they were supposed to care about...people they were supposed to love. You might have enjoyed the fight but you fought to protect others. You fought to save to people." Her voice cracked and grew softer as she stared up with those huge brown eyes that had gone all liquid. "You fought to protect me."
She shook her head and knew she was being a fool, knew she was wearing her heart on her sleeve, unprotected and vulnerable. She'd likely be humiliated later, remembering her outburst but at the moment she couldn't stop herself.
Reaching around him she grabbed the kit again and shoved it into his chest, still trembling and tears falling, sliding down her cheeks. "So if you won't let someone pay you a little kindness in return, then at least pay them the respect of taking care of yourself." She turned on her heel and began to march toward the steps, not looking back as she said, "Pour the betadine over your shoulders so it gets the cuts on your back." She wasn't running this time, her walk having that angry, purposeful gait. She told herself as she walked that she'd lock herself in her room and bury her face in a pillow for a good cry and maybe she'd get it out of her system. Maybe..
Right when he heard that deceptively calm voice, Ty knew that something was about to go down. Forget the fact that he was distancing them for her own good, or that he'd been on his own for so long that taking care of himself was second nature...oh, no. NONE of that made any sense to her, now that she decided that it was on her head to 'take care of him,' now did it? Something akin to frustration replaced the icy facade of calm as he watched her, silent as she proceeded to yell. What was it about women and loud voices? And...oh, good Gods, and TEARS. Why was it always HIM who had to deal with the hysterical ones? What the hell was he supposed to do now? Apologize? Hell with that; as far as he could tell, she was suffering from post traumatic shock and was taking it out on him.
But, then again, if that was the case...why in the hells did he feel so bad?
Instinctively, he grabbed at the kit that was shoved onto his chest, frown turning into a full blown scowl. When she turned to surge toward the stairs, something in the back of his head snapped, rational thought shoved somewhere to the corner of his mind. With a growl, he threw the kit down onto the kitchen table and was on her before she could make it up the stairs. He grabbed her arms in a strong grip, careful not to hurt her but making sure that she wasn't going to be breaking out of his hold anytime soon, either. With another rumbled sound in his chest, he spun her around so that he could cut that glare down at her. She made his head spin, made him confused, frustrated, angry...NEEDFUL of something that he couldn't put his finger on. He was confused, he was hurting and he was irritated as hell that the little woman managed to squirm under his skin in such a short period of time. But, most of all?
He was afraid: an emotion that he'd once vowed never to feel again.
"You think you know me, little mouse?" He growled, face set in hard lines. "You think you've seen something dark inside of me? Believe me when I say that you don't know ANYTHING, and if I can help it, you will NEVER know. There are some doors that should never be opened, and my kissing you before..." With another animalistic sound, he released her suddenly, taking a step back. His arms were itching from the blood drying along slowly healing skin and he grabbed onto the sensation like a life line. Anything but the swirl of unwelcome emotion in his chest.
"I apologize for before," He forced the words out, grimacing as if tasting something vile. "I'm not used to people...helping me. It's been a while since I had company other'n your boss, and even he knows better than to be around me after a fight. I'm not a good person, Kayla. I protect you because there's a fight going on, and I want a piece of it. Don't make me out to be something I'm not." The echo of her words, those sweet, sweet words, made something twang in his stomach, but he pushed it back with a brutal shove. Her heart hurt to see him in pain? Did that mean she cared for him? No...he wouldn't allow himself to think about it; wouldn't put words to something that could never be.
Glancing down, he noticed that her arm was cut and was surprised at the sudden burst of anger that chased away all else. For a minute, before he could tamp down the fire in his belly, he felt the need to find whatever vampires had survived the night and make them scream for the fires of hell. Such perfect skin marred...he wanted immortal flesh to tear!
With a shake of his head, Ty forced himself to take a step back. He glanced at the room above, then forced his eyes back to her face, jaw clenched and fists bunched from the effort to keep his anger in check. "Take care of your arm," He muttered gruffly, then turned on his heel to go back to the kitchen. Getting at the wounds in his back would be a challenge, but he would manage on his own. He always did.
As her arm was grabbed she tried to pull away, tugging on her arm a bit and glaring up at him as best she could. It was hard to glare with tears streaming out of your eyes after all. But knowing she was getting no where with the tugging she just stopped and stared as he spoke, eyes slightly narrowed in anger.
As those words were spoke though...
"I apologize for before"[/i][/color] the anger left those big brown eyes, replaced with something else, the knot tightening and moving higher in her throat. He couldn't have hurt her more if he'd slapped her and it showed on that oh so open face. He was apologizing for kissing her? Saying it was a mistake?The night had been almost too much for her, apart from the one incident in her life that sent her on the run she'd never encountered anything like that. Still covered in blood from splatters here and there and the nasty scratch on her arm she sat in the car as they drove back to Ty's place in silence, only the sound of the radio playing softly filling the interior. She forcibly resisted looking at him at first, not ready to face what had happened, neither the terrible parts, nor the surprisingly wonderful parts. It wasn't long before the purr of the engine and the ease of the seats lulled her into a drowsiness that she couldn't resist. The night had really taken it out of her. Within ten minutes of getting in the car she fell asleep, her head lolling a little sideways as she slept, her hands folded in her lap.
Blessedly there were no dreams or nightmares, her mind to exhausted to conjure up the images as she slept in the car. Only her easy, even breathing sounded from her as her body relaxed into the seat. Within five minutes of falling asleep the little bump hit in the road and the curve that moved her body had her slumping in the seat, her head sliding over and resting against his shoulder and the torn jacket that he wore. A bit of shifting and she turned in the seat, one hand raising and curling up under her chin, wrapping around his arm as she nuzzled her cheek against that warm solid expanse there. A soft sigh left her lips as her hair fell over her face, partially obscuring it and tickling her cheek.
The street before them seemed to blur as he pulled his rarely used BMW into traffic, eying the remaining police lights in the rear-view mirror. Talk about a night for the record books; vampires, strange women with the ability to use fire AND one helluva smack down between Lexi and that powerful monster with the big ass wings. An absent smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he remembered the thing's ugly face...now THERE was a hunt he'd be happy to be a part of. Gods, he could just imagine the fight that vampire provided! Nothing like those novice's green attempts to stab his ass or drunks from any normal night. He could just taste the blood in the air, and something akin to anticipation curled in his gut. Now THERE was a fight worth having...especially now that the thing had hit his home.
Home. The word surprised the skinwalker as he maneuvered the car down familiar roads. Normally, when he thought of home, he ended up picturing his quiet cabin in the European mountains somewhere...not the busy, annoying streets of New Orleans, and especially not the loud, obnoxious confines of Wicked. One of those vampires must've scored a good hit to his head, to make him sound so...so...
Well, whatever the hell he sounded like, the ability to describe it was completely beyond him with something clunked against his aching, slightly bloodstained shoulder. Instinctively, he tensed, one hand leaving the wheel as if to ward off a blow...but Hades, fists, claws and other sharp things definitely didn't feel like velvet against the skin exposed through the tear in his jacket. Nor did they smell like flowers. Glancing down, Ty eyed the head that lay so casually on his shoulder, practically personifying a bow string. Okay...so she'd fallen asleep; definitely a good sign that she wasn't in shock, after what she'd just seen. And back to those thoughts of 'home,' he had a sudden flash of those sweet lips against his, and his hands tightened on the wheel until the plastic cracked. Alright, so going into that train of thought with a certain woman snoozing up against him wasn't exactly a good idea while driving. He could deal with that. Moving onto other issues--
Aw, hell. So, not only did the sleeping woman want to torment him with her nearness, but now she was snuggling into his shoulder with her warm breath brushing against the side of his neck. Hades' Balls, someone was out to get him like there was NO tomorrow. But that was fine, he could still deal with it...Gods, he had HOW many years of hermetic experience? He should be able to tamp down on the sudden surge of- Gods, that definitely wasn't tenderness!- who the hell knew what with a practiced ease.
And yet, what he ended up doing was to dislodge one hand from the wheel and gently tuck the hair obscuring her face behind her ear. Gods, he needed to get back to his mountains.
What was a reasonably short drive became torturous to him, and he almost let loose an audible sigh of relief as the apartment building came into view. After parking the beemer in the garage next door, he glanced down at the sleeping woman beside him. Great...now what the hell was he supposed to do? Wake her up? Shove her over onto the window so he could get out? Gods, this was the Celt's area of expertise- how to be gentlemanly with ladies- not his! With a grumble, he put a hand on her shoulder, keeping her steady as he slid out from underneath her. Hopefully the girl wasn't about to grab for his jacket, but maybe the movement would jar her awake.
And, of course, it didn't. What was the words those kids on the street said? Oh yeah; AWESOME. Not.
With a grumble, he moved over to the side of the car, opening the passenger door with a yank. Even through all of that noise, the woman wasn't about to wake up- was she deliberately trying to make him crazy? He wouldn't be surprised- and with a martyred sigh, he lowered his bulk through the doorway and slid his arms around her, scooping her out of the car with ease. Gods, the waitress weighed less than nothing...and smelled so damn sweet. GODS. Definitely time to hurry his ass on into the apartment before he did something they'd both regret.
As that hand touched her cheek, smoothing her hair back she moved so slightly, nuzzling against the comforting feeling in her sleep, her little fingers curling slightly around that arm then relaxing, like a sleeping cat flexing in the sunlight. In her sleep, her dreamless sleep her face was peaceful, looking almost younger than she really was in the low light of the car's interior. Even as the car pulled to a stop she did not awaken. The night had really taken it out of her. The entire day to be honest, from the disturbing early morning peep show to the miraculous healing of her boss lady, it had all proved to be physically and emotionally exhausting. As she was lifted out of the car she turned her head into that wide chest, snuggling up to the warmth of the man that held her instinctively, a small shiver running through her as the cold wind of the winter breeze came in through the open garage door.
She was still barefoot, her shoes found upstairs unable to be worn, the one she'd planted in the middle of the female vamp's forehead melted beyond repair. They'd been tossed in the trash as she has cleaned up the place for Erik and Lexi so that they wouldn't have to worry about it. A bit of the ash and more blood had gotten on her but she'd managed to get the most of it off her hands and face, only her feet, legs, and arms still showing residual traces here and there, a smudge of black ash here, a smear of blood there. Even as she was carried to the apartment she did not wake, pulling herself closer to the broad mass of heat next to her instinctively to get warmer. In her mind she saw that surprised look on his face and the hint of a grin. She heard that rumble of voice in her dreams and it made a tiny smile form on her lips.
She didn't wake until the door to the apartment closed, lulled into comfort by the musky scent that too was warm and like home, a certain wildness about it that made her think of the woods and the clear springs that bubbled up near the barn.Slowly coming to she looked up, blinking and saw that face that had been in her dreams, still thinking she must be dreaming. Her hands went up to wrap around that neck and hold on as she murmured softly. "Always feel so safe with you around." Not realizing she is truly saying it. That was the beauty of dreams, you could say anything without consequence.
But if she were dreaming then why could she hear the sounds outside on the streets? A little startled she stiffened in his arms and looked up hesitantly before groaning and burying her face in his chest, taking in a deep breath of his scent as she blushes deeply. "I just really said that out loud didn't I?" she said and shook her head a little. "I'm sorry.. I just.. with all that happened tonight and then.. um.." She didn't know what to say, keeping her head down and face hidden.
Aw hell...as if carrying her sweet little unconscious body wasn't enough, now he had to deal with her now awake, conscious, moving...BURROWING self. Gods, would it be rude to 'accidentally' knock her out on the doorjam? Because Hades' Hairpiece, would it be easier on him if she were quiet and limp again. The arm around his neck was much too warm, lightly hinting at a mixture of blood and sweat and her face nuzzling his chest? Gods, it had been almost a quarter of a century since he'd last been with a woman. Did she HAVE to go and drive him completely bat shit crazy? It wasn't like he was normally angry, but now...Gods. There was just something mentally wrong with him, and that was that.
When she spoke, Ty almost breathed a sigh of relief...before a surprised chuckle tore itself from his chest. The words were murmured against his shirt, her voice slurred, which made him think that she was sleeping; definitely a good thing. If she was sleeping, whatever he had left in his 'honor reserve' would make it easy to drop her limp body into the guest room and limp on into the bathroom to patch up. Not to mention that she was obviously having some kind of weird ass nightmare to think she could be safe around HIM, of all people. Gods, if only she knew the skeletons hiding in his closet...though, his were the kind that would be more than happy to leap out and dance a jig on the coffee table. Safe around him? Gods, was that one funny.
But did that stop his arms from tightening instinctively around her? Or his stride to become a bit more steady, so as not to jar her? Gods, what was it about this woman that made his world turn sideways? She was so young, so small, so fragile that with one wrong move, she'd be broken in his arms. Yet, he just couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to be in hers. To be...accepted.
Oh Godsdammit, he was sounding like a bleeding heart now. Quick, was there a fight going on anywhere? His reputation was shriveling up into nothing.
And then, because his night hadn't already been kicked to hell by vampires, her voice piped up again...but this time, she was so painfully cognizant that he was ready to swear like the soldier he was. With a martyred sigh as he managed to open the apartment door with one foot and his teeth, he shouldered into the familiar atmosphere and made short work of the distance between the door and his bed. Immaculately made, it was dark, wrinkle free...and looked really damn good with the little mouse on top of it. Not that she'd stay there for long, he mused with an inner smirk. As he extracted himself from her arms as gently as possible, he turned to stroll over to a chair at the opposite end of the room, peeling the ripped jacket from his arms. A wince stole onto his face as he flexed his aching shoulders, frowning down at a particularly nasty gash running from his elbow to the side of his neck. Damn, he was getting slow, if one of those child-vamps managed to score a hit on him.
"Yeah, you really did," He replied as he stripped off his shirt, forgetting for a minute that the woman behind him was likely to be scarred for life. There were gashes, cuts and bloody welts all over his upper body, as well as a few splinters lodged into his back. They would all heal quickly, but for the moment? They hurt like frikken hell.
"Don't worry, we can blame it on shock. 'Cause you must be real shaken up if you think I'm anything but scary, mouse."
There was no where to hide as she was sat down on his bed, her hands moving to rub her arms lightly as she shivers. Staring down at her dirty toes she tried to not look at him but it felt so much colder with him moving away from her. She glances up as he began taking his jacket off and then back down. "You should have woke me up. You didn't have to carry me." There was a small frown on her lips, afraid she was getting entirely too dependent on him and afraid he would soon grow to resent that.
She stayed looking down as she went on "But it's true...I.. I do feel safe with you around." she admitted. She saw out of the corner of her eyes the removal of the shirt as well, blushing a bit as she recalled the sight of him earlier that morning, utterly nude. She found him completely the opposite of what he thought. The sight of those scars did not repel her or disgust her. To her it showed bravery, a real man. She wasn't into those soft, pretty boys but men that worked hard and it reflected in their look.
"I mean...yeah, you...you can be scary...no doubt about that." she says with widened eyes and a nod. "But..." she hesitated a bit..."But when everything went crazy tonight and .. and I didn't know what was going on and I saw you down there I had two thoughts.... One was that somehow it was gonna be alright. The other was ....I was really scared that something might happen to you..ooo..OH MY GOSH!!"
She was on her feet, looking over at him and crossing the room to his back, her small hands raised to lightly touch the cuts and abrasions. "You.....you were this hurt and... and you didn't say anything?!" she said demandingly, her voice trembling and tears welling in her eyes. "OOooooh you.. you.. you stubborn ole pig headed oaf!" Her scolding was softened though by the concern so easily seen on her face and heard in her tone. "You shouldn't have been carrying me."
Her small fingers reached for the splinters that stuck out of his skin and carefully plucked them from him, dropping them in her other hand, her voice trembling along with her bottom lip. "You're all hurt." She knew she shouldn't care, shouldn't let herself get so attached but it was something she was helpless to stop as she witnessed the wounds he took trying to save people. Her included. "I don't care what ya say this time mister....you're gonna suck it up and let me take care of these. There's no way you can reach half of these."
The sight of his battered body and skin felt like a physical blow to her as she made sure all the bits of wood were removed that she could with just her fingers. "Sit down...I'll get the first aid kit and .....and...well you just sit there." she says and sniffles , trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks before he sees them as she turns.
Gods, there was something seriously messed up about this entire situation, he thought with an inner snort. The poor woman had just been thrown head first into a world full of nasties, and instead of falling into all kinds of female fits, she was...complimenting him. HIM! If only she knew the person she was calling a safety blanket. Would those wide, compassionate eyes still think of him as a protector when he gave into that little voice in the back of his head and started impersonating the President, just because he could? It had been so long since he'd given into temptation, but oh, the memory of that intoxicating taste of chaos was enough to heat his blood.
It really was a good thing that he had a brain in his head and a whole goody bag full of memories to keep him in the present. Hell, and people wondered why he was angry all the time. Forget the fact that for the past fifty years, being close to anyone, alluring or as beautiful as a doorknob, was enough to make him turn about face and get the hell out of Dodge. Add that annoying 'you know you wanna' voice into the mix and he was just a raging ball of frustration.
And as if those thoughts weren't enough to make his jaw stiffen to the breaking point, Kayla just had to hurry over and go all nursemaid on him. Hmm...which, he had to acknowledge with an inner grin, wasn't exactly too bad of a turning point. One brow raised as he turned his head to look at her, amusement in his eyes. 'Stubborn ole pig headed oaf?' Definitely a new one with that. What would it take to make her break down and curse, he couldn't help but wonder mischievously.
With a little growl, Ty lowered himself into a chair, grunting as she proceeded to pick the splinters out of his back. "It's nothing to worry about," He grumbled, obviously unused to the treatment. Hell's Bells...everyone knew to leave the wounded animals alone, didn't they? Yet there she was, commanding obedience as she hurried to the kitchen to get the first aid kit.
"I've had worse, Kayla," He went on, leaning forward on the kitchen table as if settling in for some polite conversation. What he really needed was a bottle of whiskey, a hot shower and some sleep, but a glimpse of the woman's face as she scurried past had him sighing in resignation. Fine, he'd let himself be touched, just this once. At least she wasn't going hysterical on him...or bringing up that kiss. Like a flash, any thoughts of 'hot showers' and time spent in the bed behind him had his mind taking all kinds of windy roads. Her head tilted back as he traced his lips along her neck; his hands on her skin and her body pressed up close to his...
With a shake of his head, he pushed up from the table. Okay, maybe staying in the same room with her while he was tired, wounded and so obviously off his meds wasn't such a good idea. "Don't worry yourself, mouse, I'm fine. Takes a bit more than a few puppies to take me down. You...uh...take care of yourself. I'm gonna take a shower. Then...if you want...we can talk. About the club. Or...something." Gods, he really was socially retarded.
She had already grabbed the kit and was making her way over to him when he stood up and growled about being fine and trying to walk off. She stopped right in the middle of the floor, eyes glassy with unshed tears. Yes she was taking it all in stride for now. Murdough women were strong women after all. They rolled with the punches, they took care of their family, kin, menfolk, and anyone else that might need it. Pillars of the community. Real salt of the Earth types.
But everyone had their breaking point and her world was about as turned upside down as it could be in more ways than one. She knew she should just let him go. Not push the issue. One, out of a sense of self preservation. He could get angry and lose that control and she'd see just what he did to those things did this night. It wouldn't be the first man she was wrong about after all. Two, ...because she couldn't afford to get close, not when in a month or a couple weeks, or any day that the local police got a little too interested in her that she might have to blow town and take off again. She shouldn't allow that strange feeling that started at the roots of her hair and melted like pooling chocolate, warm and delicious all the way to her toes when he kissed her affect her. She shouldn't.
But shouldn't isn't always the strongest reasoning or the most effective preventative. "Nothing to worry about?" Her voice was calm, a little too calm as she stood there holding the kit. A fine tremor shook her entire body from the fatigue, the emotional confusion, the stress of the night, and now her own anger. Her voice rose a little more, sounding incredulous as it did. "Had worse?"
She walked over to the table and slammed the kit down on the table in front of him, her shaking even more visible as she stood in his way, arms crossed as those tears spilled down her cheeks. "You are far from fine. You are bleeding. You are ripped from neck to elbow!! You have cuts all over you! Bruises! WELTS!! YOU ARE NOT FINE!!!"
As she screamed at him that was it. That was the point where she broke. There was no more stiff upper lip. No more brave face. It was all there, the confusion, the hurt, the fear; all there to be seen and read so easily. "You can't do that! You.. you can't just.. just swoop in and save a girl and be nice to her and ...and ...KISS her to where she feels weightless and the world disappears around her for a second and expect her to just not give a damn!! It doesn't work that way.. -I- don't work that way!!"
She drew away, almost as if sensing a hand reaching for her and glared, the color rising in her cheeks along with the tears in her eyes. "I can't just ...just not care! I shouldn't....I can't afford to but it doesn't change the fact that it rips my heart out to see you hurt like this and even more so that you don't seem to care about what happens to you. I saw you tonight... I saw that rage.. I saw how much you enjoyed it and you might think that that makes you a monster but it doesn't! I've seen monsters. I've seen people that hurt people just because they enjoyed doing it, people they were supposed to care about...people they were supposed to love. You might have enjoyed the fight but you fought to protect others. You fought to save to people." Her voice cracked and grew softer as she stared up with those huge brown eyes that had gone all liquid. "You fought to protect me."
She shook her head and knew she was being a fool, knew she was wearing her heart on her sleeve, unprotected and vulnerable. She'd likely be humiliated later, remembering her outburst but at the moment she couldn't stop herself.
Reaching around him she grabbed the kit again and shoved it into his chest, still trembling and tears falling, sliding down her cheeks. "So if you won't let someone pay you a little kindness in return, then at least pay them the respect of taking care of yourself." She turned on her heel and began to march toward the steps, not looking back as she said, "Pour the betadine over your shoulders so it gets the cuts on your back." She wasn't running this time, her walk having that angry, purposeful gait. She told herself as she walked that she'd lock herself in her room and bury her face in a pillow for a good cry and maybe she'd get it out of her system. Maybe..
Right when he heard that deceptively calm voice, Ty knew that something was about to go down. Forget the fact that he was distancing them for her own good, or that he'd been on his own for so long that taking care of himself was second nature...oh, no. NONE of that made any sense to her, now that she decided that it was on her head to 'take care of him,' now did it? Something akin to frustration replaced the icy facade of calm as he watched her, silent as she proceeded to yell. What was it about women and loud voices? And...oh, good Gods, and TEARS. Why was it always HIM who had to deal with the hysterical ones? What the hell was he supposed to do now? Apologize? Hell with that; as far as he could tell, she was suffering from post traumatic shock and was taking it out on him.
But, then again, if that was the case...why in the hells did he feel so bad?
Instinctively, he grabbed at the kit that was shoved onto his chest, frown turning into a full blown scowl. When she turned to surge toward the stairs, something in the back of his head snapped, rational thought shoved somewhere to the corner of his mind. With a growl, he threw the kit down onto the kitchen table and was on her before she could make it up the stairs. He grabbed her arms in a strong grip, careful not to hurt her but making sure that she wasn't going to be breaking out of his hold anytime soon, either. With another rumbled sound in his chest, he spun her around so that he could cut that glare down at her. She made his head spin, made him confused, frustrated, angry...NEEDFUL of something that he couldn't put his finger on. He was confused, he was hurting and he was irritated as hell that the little woman managed to squirm under his skin in such a short period of time. But, most of all?
He was afraid: an emotion that he'd once vowed never to feel again.
"You think you know me, little mouse?" He growled, face set in hard lines. "You think you've seen something dark inside of me? Believe me when I say that you don't know ANYTHING, and if I can help it, you will NEVER know. There are some doors that should never be opened, and my kissing you before..." With another animalistic sound, he released her suddenly, taking a step back. His arms were itching from the blood drying along slowly healing skin and he grabbed onto the sensation like a life line. Anything but the swirl of unwelcome emotion in his chest.
"I apologize for before," He forced the words out, grimacing as if tasting something vile. "I'm not used to people...helping me. It's been a while since I had company other'n your boss, and even he knows better than to be around me after a fight. I'm not a good person, Kayla. I protect you because there's a fight going on, and I want a piece of it. Don't make me out to be something I'm not." The echo of her words, those sweet, sweet words, made something twang in his stomach, but he pushed it back with a brutal shove. Her heart hurt to see him in pain? Did that mean she cared for him? No...he wouldn't allow himself to think about it; wouldn't put words to something that could never be.
Glancing down, he noticed that her arm was cut and was surprised at the sudden burst of anger that chased away all else. For a minute, before he could tamp down the fire in his belly, he felt the need to find whatever vampires had survived the night and make them scream for the fires of hell. Such perfect skin marred...he wanted immortal flesh to tear!
With a shake of his head, Ty forced himself to take a step back. He glanced at the room above, then forced his eyes back to her face, jaw clenched and fists bunched from the effort to keep his anger in check. "Take care of your arm," He muttered gruffly, then turned on his heel to go back to the kitchen. Getting at the wounds in his back would be a challenge, but he would manage on his own. He always did.
As her arm was grabbed she tried to pull away, tugging on her arm a bit and glaring up at him as best she could. It was hard to glare with tears streaming out of your eyes after all. But knowing she was getting no where with the tugging she just stopped and stared as he spoke, eyes slightly narrowed in anger.
As those words were spoke though...
It was like a kick to the gut, the sudden leaden weight she felt there, the sting of those tears. She had been such a fool, such an idiot. That look of anger on his face cinched it for her. He was pissed. Angry that he even had to have this talk. Angry that he had to deal with her.
As he spoke the words "Don't make me out to be something I'm not."[/i][/color] she lifted her chin, finding that inner strength and poise somewhere deep inside her. He'd made her make a fool of herself not just once but twice now and as the saying goes; fool me once shame on you, fool me twice - shame on me. Her voice still shaking as those hot tears streamed down her face she spoke, quietly, calmly .."You can count on it."
She was trapped there by that hand as she wanted so much to flee, to run away, far far away and get out from under the scrutiny of that gaze. She couldn't leave tonight. But in the morning... the morning she was gone. She couldn't face him anymore. Would probably have to quit Wicked as well. She couldn't see him night after night and know that he considered kissing her, touching her had been a mistake.
It hurt too much.
As she was released she said no more, not trusting herself to speak again. Especially with that anger showing in his face when it reached her eyes again. She watched as he moved across the room, each bloody wound striking at her still. She knew she was stupid, So very stupid, stupid, stupid!
When dismissed, because calling it anything else would be a mistake, she turned and climbed the stairs, going into the bathroom and shutting the door. There was the click of the lock sliding into place before the water of the sink was turned on.
Safely behind the closed door she rested her hands on either side of the sink, bracing herself as she let herself cry quietly. Maybe she should have let Ben kill her. She should have just laid there and let the lights go out. Everything was so very wrong. The world as she knew it was turned upside down. The creatures of nightmare existed, only reaffirming what she saw when she killed Ben. Something had been in him. She had to face that fact now without trying to reason it away. But still....she'd killed him all the same.
And worst of all, she'd let herself feel for someone she could never have. Someone else that felt nothing toward her, who loathed her. Carefully cleaning the wound on her arm she put a bandage over it to she wouldn't bleed on the sheets before slipping out of her dress and turning the shower on. She'd just get cleaned up and go to bed and in the morning she would hail a cab to Wicked and find a way to get her truck working.
Then....she'd get out of town and put it all behind her. Distance herself before she hurt herself more than she already had.Maybe it was for the best. Getting out before he had a chance to truly snap and raise his fists to her. She wasn't sure she'd survive that one. Ben had nearly killed her and he was no where close to Ty's size or skill range. If she let herself stay she'd just end up dead....or wishing even more than now that was.[/color]
[/b]"You can count on it."[/i] Gods, if words could cut through a man's flesh like a knife, those would have done the trick. It was what he wanted her to think, the anger in her eyes what he wanted her to feel...but with each step that carried her away from him, he felt something inside wither up and die. He wanted...he WANTED the little slip of a girl to look at him with those wide, beautiful eyes, lips curled in a smile and arms open to embrace him. He wanted to taste that sweet mouth and hold her soft body close to his, lose himself in her until there was no world. No memories, no lure to accept the monstrous half of his soul...Gods, he wanted. He wanted so bad, that his body ached in denial as he let her go.[/color]
But it was for the best, in the end. She would die, while he would live. A freak, a monster, a killer...it was his fate to go on, as he'd done in the past, and dream of that pixie face smiling down at him from Elysion.
Holy hell, talk about some depressing thoughts to make a guy want to leap out the living room window. Somebody stick a sign on his chest, 'cause he was ready for the Soap Opera line ups. With a shake of his head, the skinwalker forced himself to pad back to the kitchen, shoving a dish towel under the cold jet of water from the faucet. He hissed as the cool cloth hit the scrapes and gashes along his chest and arms, and he relished the pain; hung onto it in an attempt to pull his mind from the angel upstairs. All was as it should be, as much as his chest deemed it otherwise. Kayla Robinson would go back to Wicked with the determination to earn enough money to get her own place, he would put in a word with Erik so that she could get a new truck, and she would leave. She would move on, forget him...and find someone to put that kind smile back on her face.
Someone that wasn't him. Gods, if the thought of someone else's hands on that delicate skin didn't make his fists clench, tearing open the scabs on his knuckles. With a growl, he shoved his hands under the faucet, gritting his teeth against the sting. He had to get ahold of himself, for all that was holy! All of this...this...FEELING was enough to drive him completely mad. Forget Hercules, or the mad woman Hera; they were nothing compared to the angry buzzing in the back of his head, at the thought of another man touching his woman.
With a growl, he leaned forward against the sink, unknowingly mirroring the woman in question upstairs in the bathroom. Shaking his head as if to clear it, Ty let loose a harsh bark of laughter. 'His woman?' Gods, where did that come from? She was anything BUT his woman, as far as one could be! He had no woman! There was just Silliana, his beautiful wife, long dead, and no one else. He couldn't survive another loss, and becoming tied to a HUMAN, of all things!
But did that stop him from turning with a growl and marching into the hallway? Or from stomping up the stairs, making so much noise that he was sure that the woman knew he was coming? Or from stopping outside of the locked bathroom door, clenching his still bleeding fists, gritting his teeth against the growls in his chest...
And depositing one bare foot against the wood of the door. With a loud SNAP, the poor thing snapped open, rebounding against the wall with a crash that probably had those living around them calling 9-1-1.
The sight that greeted him, a sun kissed, perfect body slightly misted by the shower, lips parted in a surprised 'O' and eyes wide as she whipped around to face the sudden sound...perfection. It was the only thing that came to mind, as he drank in the sight like one dying of dehydration. Poetic, he knew, but...Gods. She was a goddess.
He rode the anger, the confusion and the unknown feelings rushing through his blood and stepped into the bathroom, a large, fanged predator stalking down his prey. Before she could scream or try to dart around him, one arm whipped out and curved around her naked waist, pulling her artist's perfection hard against him, so that she smacked against his chest. Gods...the feeling was enough to make his knees go weak and the breath leave his lungs. She was going to hate him now, fight...but he couldn't stop. If it wasn't for the rational voice screaming for him to turn around and leave, he would have knocked her to the floor and taken her.
"You will not be with other men!" He practically snarled down at her, answering the rational voice in his head that demanded otherwise. "And you will not turn from me as you did downstairs. I don't understand this...ANY of this...and it really pisses me off! But I can't stop...can't stop myself from wanting you. Why?" As he spoke, his mouth slanted down to run his lips along the delicate curve of her jaw. She was going to fight him, try to break free, and some animalistic part of himself relished the challenge. Gods, was he losing himself to the skinwalker inside? He had to keep his control...but all he wanted to do was to feel her sweet skin pressed up against his. She was a drug, a witch...and hell if he could let her go.
The shower was still running as she stepped out of it, causing her not to hear the approach of the man coming up the stairs. Between the rushing water and the thoughts that preoccupied her mind she was oblivious until the door crashed open and he stood there, that thunderous look upon his face as he stared at her like a snarling animal. To say she was frightened was an understatement. Especially considering the turn her thoughts had taken.
It showed on her face as she whipped around to see him there. Her first instinct was to be angry at being caught nude, the embarrassment sparking the anger but that anger turned to dreaded fear as she saw the look on his face. A small squeak of a sound, somewhat breathless, sounded as she was grabbed and pulled in tight against him, her bare flesh meeting his and the impact and feel of such raw power against her, all that bone crushing muscle...it made her shiver as she flinched back from him a little, like a spooked animal. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest, a bird's heart, hammering away rapidly as she tried to catch her breath.
It was ironic how much she had wished he would have wrapped her up in those arms just moments earlier and now it terrified her. Confusion shone in her eyes as he growled those first words at her about other men and it was so similar to what Ben would have said in one of his drunken rages that it chilled her blood and made her face go pale. She stilled in those vice-like arms, going oh so very still so as not to provoke him.
She listened to the words that followed, not understanding them at all. He wanted her? But it pissed him off? She didn't know what to say or do, afraid to do anything. But the question was asked and in her experience it demanded an answer or else there would be consequences. Her voice trembled, the fear coloring it as she shivered against him, her hands clenched in fists as they rested against his shoulders, her arms against the massive plains of his biceps. "I...I don't know." she said in a small voice, trying to keep the tears at bay, remembering how it would piss off her fiance when she cried and how he would hit her more for it.
He'd always accused her of trying to manipulate him with her tears and had to teach her a lesson. She could hear the echoes of his voice in her head even as she bit her lips in an effort to control herself and not fight, squeezing her eyes closed tightly.~"You trying to make me feel bad? HUh?!? I'll teach you not to be such a manipulative little bitch!" ~ The memories of those words made her nearly choke on the lump that rose into her throat.
He'd wanted her scared of him again not long before. Looks like he got what he wanted. Her entire body trembled but not in the way he might have liked, her muscles tensed and stiff as she kept her eyes closed. Softly, whispering, she spoke words she never thought she'd say again in this lifetime. "Please...please don't hit me? Please..." the last word sounding choked as she swallowed around the lump in her throat. "I..I'm sorry..I didn't mean to make you....feel that way." Clearly this wasn't something new to her, a haunted memory of her own past, part of what made her the scared, shy little mouse she was, terrified of her own shadow.
And with just four little words, whatever fiery emotions that he was feeling were stamped out. His arms, which had been tight, almost punishing, immediately loosened around her, as he lifted his head to look down into her face. Good Gods...she was white as a sheet and shaking like a leaf. Did he do this to her? Did he scare her this much? It was as if he were slowly coming out of a dream, disoriented and confused.
It was like a switch had been thrown, as he took in the fearful expression on her face. At one moment, he was ready to throw her down on the ground and show her what kind of a 'hero' he really was, and now...now, he was trying his best not to bolt out of the bathroom. Because, Gods, he had so obviously scared her, put that vulnerable look on her face, that it was almost impossible not to confirm for himself that he had truly gone off the deep end.
After a minute, her words seemed to penetrate in his mind, beyond the initial fog of lust and through the icy haze of shock. The emotion in her voice, the sudden fear and her cringing, even though he hadn't been speaking...something wasn't right. Slowly, he straightened. He still couldn't let go of her, wasn't in complete control of his emotions just yet, but his touch gentled, one hand instinctively moving to glide soothingly along the tight ridges of her back.
"I have never in my life hit a woman or a child," He finally said, eyes locked on hers and voice low. He was achy for want of her, his head throbbing to the beat of the water behind her and his senses filled with her scent; the smell of fear and sweetness. It was damn hard, but he managed to keep a rein on the monster inside, focusing on the shaking Mouse in his arms.
"And I am not about to change that. Tell me, Kayla...who hit you? Who hurt you?" Because, he added silently, if you wish it, I will kill them for you. For you, I would bring the man to his knees and make him scream, writhe, beg for death, if only because he touched you.
"I will never hurt you, little Mouse. I might be a monster, but I'm not...I would never hurt you."
She flinched out of instinct as that hand first touched her back, trailing along her spine. It was like a spooked horse touched after being whipped one too many times, nothing of thought put into it but the body remembering, reacting. She didn't fight or try to pull away, those eyes and lips pressed tightly closed, her chin wobbling a little with the effort to keep her lips from quivering in fear. The water that dripped off her long hair was still warm even though the horror of her memories had chilled her skin, leaving her so cold and tense in his arms, even as they slacked.
She was like one of the slave girls of old who knew her place, knew what happened when the Senator was enraged and crossed. So small and fragile. Vulnerable. It wasn't until the blows did not come but instead that gentle, steadying hand continued to stroke her slowly that she opened her eyes, revealing all that pain and that haunted look held behind there. She had showed him fear before, tentative fear that amused him before. She had shown him the joy and the besotted gentleness that she held in her heart before. But never had this shown through, this mortal fear and anguish.
Those words, so soft and so intent spoken...such honesty in them that it was undeniable. She wanted so much to believe him but it was hard. She knew she was too trusting, knew she sought too hard at times to see the good in others, sometimes to the point of only seeing what she wanted to see. She didn't trust her own judgment in the moment. Those haunted brown eyes dropped, landing on the wound on his neck that trailed down his shoulder and arm, that bottom lip quivering. She couldn't meet his eyes. Couldn't look at him, afraid he'd see right through her. He called himself a monster but she was the murderer.
That fist that gripped her heart tightened and ached inside her chest, making her shiver again as she opened her mouth and tried to speak, tried to figure out what she could say without giving away too much. She still felt compelled to answer, still too fearful not to, as if this were the calm before the storm.
Staring at the wound she spoke quietly, her voice quavering as she did, being honest but vague as she stuttered over the words, her accent a bit more pronounced and showing how upset she was. "M..my ex-fiance. It's why I can't go home. Why I'm here." She couldn't stop the tears as they slipped over the bottom rim of her eyelid and dripped off her eyelashes before slowly coursing down her cheeks. "He said he loved me...said he never m..meant to ..do those things. I believed him for a long time..but...but it never got better, just worse. He said...he said it was because he loved me so much that he just lost it sometimes, that I made him so angry that he..he couldn't help himself. That I shouldn't make him so angry."
She shook her head before she could be reprimanded for those words, going on after a sniffle. "I know...I know now. But I was ashamed...I was scared. I ran after..." but she choked on her words, hiccuping a little. She was over-sharing, She knew. She had to shut herself up. He might be able to accept a weak, pitiful little stupid girl but a murderer? No..she couldn't risk anyone knowing her secret. It was too dangerous. "I was stupid...I know. Just a stupid little girl." Her words were harsh at the end, thready with her whisper as she shook, muscles strung tight as a bow. She still couldn't meet his eyes, couldn't show her shame or her guilt.
A flair of anger gripped him as he took in what she said, the muscles in his back tightening with the urge to kill. Whoever this man was who had hurt her so, who had put this look of helplessness on his face...if he hadn't already been introduced to Hades by his own idiotic hand, Ty would have been happy to do it for him. Gods, but the urge to demand a name, an address, ANYTHING, and avenge the small woman in his arms was almost too much to bear. He pulled on over two centuries worth of control to tamp back the emotions and keep himself rooted to where he was. Even though her skin was bumpy and fear almost wafting off of her skin, it wasn't all too hard to stay in the room; to stay with the scent of flowers and the tightness he felt in his chest whenever she was near. As she spoke, he uncurled one arm from around her body. Keeping his movements slow and deliberate, he slid a bath towel off of the hook beside them and settled it around her shoulders.
And then proceeded to mentally smack himself. The current situation- her, standing there like a meek, scared little girl, and him, with the barely contained rage- did not warrant the sudden heat to his blood, as he folded the two lapels of the towel across her front. The brief sight of her nakedness was enough to bring the monster back to the forefront, wanting a taste of that tender flesh.
He was doing a lot of pushing things away today, wasn't he? First the anger, then the urge to kill her fiance, and now the urge to kiss her until he chased her demons away. Thank the Gods that he was used to having such iron self control...even if he could feel the beginnings of cracks begin to form around it. The towel was long enough to cover her to her knees, and he kept the two ends closed with one hand. Absently, he made a low sound in the back of his throat when he caught sight of her tears, lust dissolving into something else...something unfamiliar.
His free hand came up slowly, and he cupped her cheek in one scarred, calloused hand. "You aren't stupid," He said after a moment, using the pad of his thumb to brush away her tears. "You're a Mouse...and one with sharp little teeth at that. What happened to you in the past, is in the past, Kayla. This man who hurt you...you were brave to run from him. And as long as you're here, he's no longer a threat to you."
He kept the towel close around her and put some distance between them. Gods, but he did hate himself right then, for making her feel so vulnerable. Had the sight of his blood, of the death in the club, brought her back to that dark place? And there he'd been, fighting the urge to bed her. HADES, he was such a fool!
She tried not to jump as he moved, her body flinching regardless out of instinct, her senses hyper alert in the moment, the nightmare that had been her life too heavy on her to shake off so easily. But she remained standing there, feeling the warmth of his skin trying to heat her own cold, wet flesh as she shivered. She was grateful for the feel of that large, thick towel as it draped around her shoulders and the backs of her legs, the edges gripped as he folded them over, held tightly in one hand that contained her shivering tiny frame, her wet hair hanging around her face and neck, trailing down her back. She knew he was seeing her, some remote part of her mind thoguht of it as she tried to crawl out the the blackness of the nightmare that was her life, seeing once more Ben's face as he beat her that last time, seeing his eyes go entirely black and glossy, seeing the black cloud that raced out of his mouth as he screamed and choked, her blade buried in his chest.
That low sound made her bite her lip and squeeze her eyes tightly closed again for a moment, flinching at first before seeming to relax a fraction as that large hand cupped her cheek and stroked his thumb over the crest of her cheek, tracing away the tears, trying not to sniffle. His words that were supposed to be comforting, complimentary even, about her sharp little teeth brought such a look of shame and sorrow to that sweet little face. Sharp little teeth. Sharp enough to claim a life, to bleed a man of his essence.
Her head shook a little side to side as she heard the rest of his words. Her eyes darted to the door as if expecting to see Ben's specter standing there, accusing her. That haunted gaze made her large watery brown eyes even bigger as she whispered, voice shaking "He'll always be a threat. Always." but she didn't explain herself at all. Didn't explain that his death hung over her like a black cloud, following her and stealing her sunshine. Stealing any chance to be appy and keeping her always on the run.
She tried to move then to get past Ty as she moved toward the door, her eyes remaining averted from him as she tried to get to the door on those unsteady knees. She needed to be alone. Needed to not be in this little room with so much of the space taken up by that powerful frame. It was making her claustrophobic. "I need clothes on." she said as if to make her excuse, still finding logical reasons, excuses really, out of habit. Excuses that were non-accusatory and wouldn't get her hit or raise ire. She knew he'd said he had never hit a woman or child but there was always a first time. She had no idea how long that life really was to really grasp the weight of the statement and she wasn't really in the right frame of mind to believe anyone, even Jesus himself at the moment.
There was something that she was hiding from him; he could practically smell the secret in the air. But what was it? What did someone as pure, as innocent as Kayla have to hide? Was she still running from her husband, in more ways than one? It was obvious that his nearness was making her so damn nervous, and the thought that his presence reminded her of her abusive fiance made his heart hurt. She'd been hurt by a brute and was now being crowded by one. Gods, this was a bad idea. She deserved someone gentle, someone loving, someone HUMAN. Not him. Gods, not him.
When she made for the door, Ty immediately stepped aside, hands at his sides and eyes on her face. He wanted to take her into his arms, shake her until she agreed that she was better than the guilt eating away inside, but he stayed silent. Still and quiet. He was a fool, just as he'd thought before. He would give her enough money for a motel, accept her meager payments and go back to his mountain. He needed to put space between them, to tame the violence inside. He would leave...perhaps leave his apartment to her. Erik would not be pleased, but...to stay meant to haunt her waking steps and Hades if he was going to hurt her anymore.
It was funny, he couldn't help but think as he watched her hurry to her room. One little slip of a girl and a week of sideways glances, and he felt himself so tied to her. The Fates were fickle bitches, weren't they? He'd had his chance at happiness with Caesar, and lost it when he'd lost his humanity. There would be no future but that of war...no feelings but anger and belligerence. Ah, Ares, his God and Patron...he'd thought that he'd been abandoned. Welcome back into the dark heart of a soldier.
Standing outside of her room, he leaned sideways against the doorjam. His arms were crossed almost defensively over his chest, and his eyes were on the wall oppsosite him. "You are safe here, Kayla," He said, voice soft. "I hope that you trust that, at least." Eyes still downcast, he moved toward the stairs. How passion cooled so quickly, he thought with a bitter smile.
She didn't pause as she made it through the door, slipping quickly, quietly inside her room and shutting the door without looking back. Her feet didn't even make a sound on the wooden floors, so silent was her scurry. She hadn't bothered to lock it. She'd seen what had happened to the door in the bathroom. She knew it was pointless. She made it as far as the closet, opening the door there, her hand shaking as she rested it on the frame. But she didn't stay there long, her clothes tossed in the bag quickly aside from a change of clothes to put on. Walking back over to the bed she saw the teddy bear there and corner of her photo album sticking out from under the bed where she'd stashed it quickly earlier that morning. Pulling it out onto the floor she heard his words through the door, even as soft as they were. Safe? She wasn't safe anywhere. It was something that had been such a staple of her life and something that had been ripped away from her. Something that she knew she'd never have again and it tore at her. If he only knew...he'd throw her out on her butt it would make her head spin...or turn her into the police.
She looked at the picture of her family, all of them smiling and happy. It had been on a hot, sultry Kentucky summer's day. They'd had a picnic after church. Everyone had been so happy, even Grandpa was in the picture. Looking at that photo broke her. Clutching the teddy bear to her she sank into the little corner that was made up by the bed and the night stand, the towel pooling around her, her face buried in the bear's soft fuzzy fur as she cried, letting it all out. Letting everything go. It was quiet, her sobs, muffled by the stuffed animal. She didn't want him hearing her. It was like that, that she cried herself to sleep, crouched in a little ball on the floor.
When she woke up it felt like days had passed instead of the four hours that had, the chirps of the birds outside hearlding the coming of the damn told her that much as she blinked bleary eyed around the room. Her towel had slipped in her sleep and she was nude from the waist up. The first light of dawn colored the window a lighter shade of rich blue as she pulled herself to her feet, moving quickly as she dressed. Some things had to be left behind, sacrificed. She couldn't quietly slip out with everything she came with. She'd get her weapons from the club when someone came in to open. If she had to she'd climb the drainage pipe that ran down the corner of the building and get in through the window. Her sleeping bag was taken, her bag with the bear, the photo album and two days change of clothes. Her boots were held, not put on as she looked over the room. Her guitar...she couldn't leave it behind. Her knife strapped to her belt, the jean jacket resting over her tshirt and old faded jeans she sat her things on the floor near the door and grabbed the small sheaf of stationary she'd pulled out of her bag and a pen, using the dresser as her desk as she bent to write....
[/b]
'Thank you for your hospitality..'[/i] the letter began.. 'It was kind of you to allow me to stay here but I have worn out my welcome. I've caused turmoil and upset in your life that I can tell was very orderly and simple before I came along and brought my troubles to your doorstep. For that I apologize. Please tell Mr. Erik and Ms. Lexi that I am eternally grateful for their kindness in allowing me to work there and please check in on Ms. Lexi at the hospital for me. I wish I could stop and see her but I need to be moving on.'[/i] She paused, her pen poised to write more to apologize for the kiss that she'd initiated..sent the signals out for and then had to hear him say it was a mistake but it hurt so much. She thought, putting her mind in order before going on. 'You were right about what happened last night. It was a mistake. I was forward and I shouldn't have been. I cannot blame you for being put off by it. I cannot hold it against you that you simply did the same as I did...kissing me to shake some sense into me. I shouldn't have read more into it than it was. It was silly of me. I should never have said those things to you and further imposed my feelings upon someone that was merely showing me kindness and courtesy.'[/i][/color]
The pain shot straight through her chest and she had to press her hand to it as she took a breath to steady her hand poised over the paper. How could she feel so strongly for someone that she barely knew. She didn't even know what his favorite color was or his favorite song or what ice cream he liked best. She knew nothing of his past, his family, his childhood. Virtually nothing about him at all. So why was it that she felt as if her very soul was draw to him and reached for him even as she prepared to run? She hurried to get the rest on the page as she heard the birdsong outside growing stronger. 'I have to be moving on now and I hope that your life will be able to get back on it's normal routine without me here to mess it up. I'm sorry to leave the club without proper two weeks notice but it's something I have to do. Thank you for everything you have done for me.'[/i] Her pen paused as she prepared to write her standard parting but she pushed on, trying to ignore the weight that writing the word on the page to him placed on her.....'Love, Kayla'[/i]
Folding the paper and writing his name on the outside of it she gathered her things and opened the door, creeping silent as a church mouse through the house, avoiding the creak she knew was in the stairs as she made it down to his area. Though she tried to keep her eyes away from him and managed to get as far as placing the note on the counter she wasn't able to avoid it all together. She needed that last look to remember, wishing she had a camera. With the door held open just enough to slip her slim frame through she looked at his sleeping form, the relaxation on that stern face that he never had in his waking moments, the easy set of his shoulders and back as he laid on his stomach, one arm up under his pillow as he clutched the other one to him. She had to wonder what it would have been like to be in the pillow's place, to be held in those arms and to gently touch that face, tracing out and easing those creases of stress that he seemed to wear each day. But it wasn't to be. Pulling the door closed silently behind her she continued on her bare feet out of the building and down the drive to the street, not stopping to put her boots on till she was at least a block away. It was a long walk to Wicked but she'd walked further in her life and probably would again. The thought of just hitching a ride out of town crossed her mind but she'd need to fetch the little stash of money from her truck anyway. She didn't look back as she walked the streets, putting distance between herself and her breaking heart. [/color][/center][/b]