2. A Little Unhinged #2
"I mean, it's weird, right? Like I should kill you for what you did to my brother.
Not… you know… want to fuck the shit out of you and make you pancakes in bed.
" Keith suddenly looked at her, confused.
"Do you even like pancakes? French toast, maybe?
I can pop waffles in the toaster. I can't make French toast." Keith shook his head.
"Baby girl, I just-I wanna make you smile because I'm fucking obsessed with your gorgeous-ass smile, but like…
I also wanna see you cry, you know what I mean?
Just total mental breakdown. Like me. You see my dilemma here? "
Deja stared at the bloody machete. "I-I get it, Keith. I understand y-you're upset with me. B-but… you don't need to do this, okay? We can talk this out."
"I don't think we can, baby," Keith said. "I feel like I should just kill him because not only can he not kick you out… but his death would probably upset you, right? I really wanna just... ruin your fucking day. I feel like this would at least ruin your day, right?"
"O-or..." Deja said, carefully grabbing his wrist. "You can just… leave him alone because… because he has nothing to do with this. You're angry with me. Not him."
Keith abruptly ripped his hand from her grip, and she looked at him, startled.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Keith snapped.
"Does everything I say just go in one ear and out the other?
I'm about to turn this man into fucking purée because I'm going through withdrawals, and you touch me?
! Are you just completely unaware of the effect you have on me? "
"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I was just-I'm just trying to help, Keith-"
"You're literally making it worse!" he snapped. "Goddamn you!" Deja watched him angrily pace the bathroom before he turned on the landlord. "Fuck it," he said, raising his machete.
"Keith!" She grabbed his arm, yanking him towards her, and stood on her toes to kiss him. Deja felt Keith freeze against her before she heard the metallic clang of the machete on the floor.
His hands roughly grabbed her ass, and she nearly fell backward from how quickly he lifted her onto his waist. Deja whimpered as Keith took her lip between his teeth, biting hard until he broke skin and tasted blood.
Deja tried to soften their kiss, but Keith had no intention of being tender.
She gasped as he roughly grind his massive erection against her bare pussy.
"Look how fucking hard you've made me," he growled into her neck.
"You know exactly what the fuck you're doing to me.
And I don't like it. I don't. Like. You . "
Sitting her on the edge of the sink, Keith's fingers slipped beneath her towel before his fingers were invading her pussy. Staring at her dying landlord, Deja grabbed Keith's face between her hands to kiss him, only to elicit another snarl.
He roughly grabbed the nape of her neck, breaking their kiss, and pulled her head back until she met his gaze. "I'm fucking losing it because of you. Can you tell?" he snapped. Deja gasped as his fingers plunged into both of her holes. His thumb unapologetically torturing her clit.
"That's it, baby girl… Moan for me. Beg for me.
Whine for me," he groaned. "That pussy is fucking soaked.
I swear I'm gonna devour this ass." Her stomach tightened, and her pussy clenched as she felt her climax peak.
But Keith abruptly removed his fingers before she could cum.
He stared at her angrily as she panted breathlessly.
Keith sensually sucked his fingers into his mouth, humming his satisfaction.
"...You don't get to fuck out of my life like you didn't fuck me up in the process.
You don't get to do that shit," he muttered.
Keith leaned forward, breathing against her ear.
"You don't get to leave me… without me giving you hell.
" Pulling back, Keith looked down at her wet thighs, his fingers sliding against them to touch her softness again. "Fuck..." he exhaled shakily.
But Deja clamped her thighs on his hand. "...I need to call 911," she said urgently. "I can't let him die, Keith. Please just go."
Keith cocked his head to the side. "I'm trying to dive balls-deep inside of you… and you wanna save his pathetic life..." He sucked his teeth. "Priorities."
Deja watched him put his mask back on before heading for the bathroom door. Keith stopped and glanced at her over his shoulder.
"I know he haunts you...That feeling will never go away. I'll make sure of it,” he sneered.
Deja entered the cafe, scouting the crowd for Ian. She immediately spotted him sitting at a table, dressed in a turtleneck and blazer. His hair perfectly coiffed to the side as he sipped a coffee while reading a book.
Deja made her way over to the table, and Ian looked up at her, a warm smile decorating his handsome face as his cheeks dimpled. "Deja," he said, standing to his feet. "You look radiant… as always." He pulled her seat out for her before pushing her in as she sat down.
Ian sat down across from her, his blue eyes simmering as he stared into hers. "You look… different ," he noted.
She snorted. "Sleep-deprived?"
Ian merely smiled. "What can I do for you, Deja Louis?"
Deja exhaled shakily. "...it's about your brother-"
"The one you killed?" Ian smiled strangely.
Deja looked at him, disturbed. "...Keith..."
"Ah," Ian smiled. "The tormented one..."
Deja swallowed hard. "...He broke into my apartment the other night. He nearly killed my landlord-he's been watching me while I sleep-!"
Ian sipped his coffee before carefully placing it down. "That must be troubling for you."
Deja looked at him, impatiently. "Yes, that's why I called you."
Ian stared at his coffee. "I'm not sure what you expect me to do, Deja. He's heartbroken over our brother and in love with the woman who murdered him. Naturally, he'd be a bit… unhinged ."
Deja knew Ian was purposeful with his words. "I would appreciate it if you made him stop."
Ian shrugged. "I'm already trying to stop The Society from killing you… I'm afraid my hands are rather tied." Ian's blue eyes flickered up at her. "At least it was just your landlord you found mutilated and not a parent or a friend… How are your parents by the way? Mrs. Louis is well, I hope?"
Deja's eyes teared up with anger and frustration at Ian's dismissive tone. It felt as if he were mocking her. This dance was exhausting, and they were starting to wear her down. She felt bile rising in her throat and struggled to keep it down.
Catching the tension on Deja's face, Ian leaned over the table, gently grabbing her hand between his.
"...my beautiful Deja..." he eyed her. ".
..are you starting to understand the gravity of your situation now?
Are you starting to realize you have no way out?
That perhaps, Jax was just a buffer to the chaos you've unleashed? "
Deja could hardly hold back her tears. "Are you blaming me?"
"Oh, of course not, darling," he said, kissing her fingers. "Au contraire, you are my damsel-in-distress. Watching you unravel is like… watching a majestic bird with damaged wings try to fly away before the crows get to it first."
Deja looked at him, horrified by his words.
"Don't get me wrong, beloved… I don't like seeing you suffer..." he added.
Deja scoffed. "Kinda feels like you do."
Ian smiled as he raised her fingers to his lips, tenderly kissing them again.
"...Maybe… maybe I take solace in knowing that you're suffering as much as I am.
.." he hummed. Deja shivered as his fingers lightly danced up her forearm while the other hand laced her fingers with his.
"I think… you need to at last know how much I loathe what you've done to me… to this family..." he said.
Deja anxiously watched Ian trace the lines in her palm as he stared as if he were discovering her for the first time. "Somehow, you've bewitched us… And I sometimes wonder… if you might be better off dead… if not for the fact that I would sever the hand that harms you… including my own..."
Deja hated that his threats sounded somewhat endearing.
Ian's blue eyes dangerously flickered up at her. "...I hope you do feel tortured, sweetheart," he smiled. "If you want out of this, then you'll have to kill Keith and me… But then… who will protect you from The Society? Can you take on an army by yourself, Deja?"
The charming smile on his handsome face contrasted sharply with the mocking disdain that left his lips. She angrily pulled her hand out of his grasp, and Ian pouted. "I already miss your warmth..." he sighed. "Are you hungry?"
"No. I'm going home," she muttered irritably, standing to her feet. "This was a waste of time."
"Sit down, sweetheart. I'm not done with you yet," Ian said.
"Well, I am-" she started when Ian inconspicuously pulled out a blade from his sleeve.
"I'll slice that cute little waitress's throat right in front of you and make it look like an accident," Ian smiled at her. " Sit . Down ." Deja looked at him angrily before sitting back down. "Good girl," he smiled, waving over the waitress.
"Hello, sir. Can I get you a refill on that coffee?"
"Yes, that'd be lovely. Also, I'll take one of every pastry. Place them in a box and wrap them in a bow for me, will you? I'd like my darling here to have something sweet for her return home."
Deja watched the waitress walk off before she glared at Ian. "What do you want?"
"You, obviously," he smiled. "I'm not completely heartless, Deja… I have a proposition that should work for all of us."