’Lias
Chapter sixteen
‘Lias
I see the moment Sadie’s fight or flight kicks in—rather her fight and flight. She won't get the drop on me, I’ve made that promise to myself, and now we’re about to see what she can do.
If she’s capable of doing more than sneak attacks, running her sharp mouth, or letting one of the riders take over, we might get something accomplished tonight. Yet, knowing her as well as I do, she’s gotten herself in too deep and the only way out is to show me her worst, or give in.
My vision narrows on her, like I’m back in the minefields looking for trip wires and explosives large enough to blow the front of a Humvee.
Then she swings.
I anticipate the strikes to my torso, since it’s open and vulnerable; easy access for her height and how she’s pinned. The second her body shifts, I brace for impact. Muscles tighten in my core as bare feet anchor in place. It’s going to take more strength than she has to knock me off of them.
When Sadie jerks her arm up instead of throwing it forward, slicing her bony elbow through the tight space, I’m left reeling. My head slings back as she jams it into the underside of my mandible, clattering my lower teeth into the upper ones.
The pain throbs in my temples, but I force myself to shake it off. If I don’t, I may just squeeze her scrawny neck until her pretty face turns purple. The time for de-escalating the adrenaline induced tension has come and gone.
She wants to play hardball, we will.
Hauling her forward, she crashes into me as I turn her and walk her backward out of the kitchen—her bare feet fumble under legs that could put a new born deer to fucking shame.
Of course she goes for my wrists, her sad excuse for nails try to dig into the skin there but her clawing does fuck all. My arms and hands have decades of combat exposure and hardening that has toughened the flesh there. She’ll need something sturdier than thin layers of keratin to make me bleed.
Every struggle, sharp word, and threat she makes stokes the warrior within me—the soldier in full gear waiting for orders to advance and eliminate the threat holding my woman hostage.
Somewhere between our sparring session and today, Sadie’s either watched videos or has been practicing because I sure as hell didn’t teach her how to knife me with that sharp bone of hers.
Now if she would have used the same critical thinking, she might have kept her ass out of jail, but here we are and she’s about to get put on her ass because I’m not playing this shit.
Sadie goes to kick me but I beat her to the punch, sweeping the foot she still has planted on the floor out from under her.
Her hands release my wrist and flail in order to catch herself, which drags me with her.
Our size difference sends both of us crashing to the floor—giving the downstairs neighbors a courtesy knock when our limbs and body masses land with bone shaking thuds.
Thrashing under me, Sadie’s hands shove and punch at my chest. She screams under me; her heels dig into the floor but fail to get any short of traction on the dark tile.
The slightest bit of pride seeps into my heart seeing her fight for herself, it’s just not enough.
Our hips smash together when she thrusts hers upward, bucking wildly to knock me off, but not today, not anymore.
I wouldn’t say I’ve coddled her, but I’ve been gentle where she’s concerned.
There’s a line that needs to be drawn between what’s acceptable as a functioning adult and what’s a damn tantrum. This, and as much as I’ve come to love her smart mouth, is where the line is being carved into the ground. I’ve been too deep inside of her for her to keep doing this shit.
I catch short glimpses of vulnerability when she thinks no one is looking; hoping no one will notice, but I hate it for her… I do. Without realizing it, she revealed the woman laying seven levels deep in her own hell—tortured, scared, and alone.
Pushing me away, after trusting me enough to fall sleep, isn’t fucking happening. It’s only fear, and I’ll be fearless for the both of us as long as she stops shoving.
Deep in her foggy mind, behind a ten-story wall and barbed wire fences, lies the last corruptible bit of a young woman too afraid to let anyone close. Living by the notion that if she doesn’t let anyone close, then she can’t get hurt, nor hurt them in return.
Her piece of shit uncle was the first and only person who understood the chaos storming inside her, and the fucker fed on it.
A rat digging through what safety net she had and chewed the rope to pieces—pulling her insanity out one resistant string at a time.
He bathed in her violence, praised it, stroked its matted coat, and fed it the only thing it could survive on—blood.
With the limited amount of time he had Sadie in his clutches, he taught her susceptible mind that her demons were not burdens and they’d be safe with him. That was until he had her cutting men into pieces and throwing them into unmarked holes in the middle of a national park.
After her adoptive parents were killed and her biological ones came back into the picture, not much changed. She’s still as alone as ever. Her college years? Restricted to studies and solitude—friends do not exist.
Unable to find her place in the world, she isolates herself even more. Her therapist? He has her under a microscope and so fucking high the woman inside, the one we’re trying to reach, is drowning along with her riders.
No one’s brave enough to fight Sadie to be a part of her life.
I will, though, even if we have to spend every fucking night in this position.
With me over her, pinning her to the floor while she kicks and screams, tiring herself out in the process.
I’ll do whatever it takes to overpower the doubt she suffocates under.
“That all you got?” I shout over her shrieks.
Her cheeks have bloomed a beautiful red color, speckled with tiny flecks of eyeliner that tears have carried down her face.
She looks exactly like the girl I picture hiding deep within the tomb of her thoughts.
With teeth bared, eyes scrunched as tight as they can be, chin tilted, and the cords of her neck straining the skin.
I’ll never tell her, I won’t tell a fucking soul, that it kills me seeing her coming apart like this—it splinters my heart and sends it crashing against my spine every time she breaks.
It’s darkest before dawn, Sunshine. I promise we’ll make it.
Snapping her hands to my face, Sadie digs her fingers into my hair and jerks me down, cracking our foreheads together so forcefully her fair skin splits along with my glabella.
Blood’s spilling down the sides of her head, a crimson halo that stains her wild hair as infinite pupils swallow what remains of her icy blue irises.
Between failing medication, unhelpful therapy, and the constant struggle, nothing works like it used to. Except pain. She sinks into it, chases the rabbit, and gives into the urge that stabs holes into her walls and puts people in the fucking hospital.
We’re not ending this night with bloodshed nor hiding in the closet under the hands of her demons. If she only understands pain, that I can give. I’ll light her up every chance I get.
Releasing her neck, Sadie’s hands swing for mine, but I swat them out of the way with a loud smack. Grabbing her hips next, I flip her onto her stomach, where her palms slap the floor and attempt to lift her upper body.
“I’m going to kill you. Saw your head right off your fucking shoulders!” Sadie yowls her threat into the void.
Planting a hand between her shoulders, I ram her back to the floor and constrain her, preventing her from rising or wriggling away. Muscling her legs apart with my knee, I settle between them in two rough breaths. She can’t kick me from here—where I can work.
“When you put it like that, you’re not going anywhere,” I grunt back.
Using my free hand to thrust the back of her shirt up, I leave her naked ass on full display and my mouth waters at the sight of her creamy skin.
I want to sink my incisors into her, take a bite right out of her body so there’s no mistaking who has been here.
It will hurt, it will burn, but she needs something.
For right now, that would be too much. I want to hurt her, not damage her.
I know just the thing to get her belligerent behavior to stop.
Tipping to the side, I steal a quick glance before I slap her pussy from her spread position. Sadie lurches then then twists and shoots daggers at me over her shoulder.
“What the absolute fuck are you doing?”
I don’t answer. She’s not stupid and will figure it out.
For a moment I admire the way her skin pinkens below her curls, deepening as blood pools between her thighs. And now that her body’s responding like this, I’m not stopping.
Slaps rain down on the backs of her thighs where the pain is less sharp, then I land three more in quick succession to her cunt.
Sadie squeals and thrashes—wrong move. Lifting my left knee, I brace my shin over the back of her left thigh.
My right foot hooks the inside of her right ankle and finds the floor, extending her legs as wide as they will go.
Spread out, she screeches her wrath—pure music to my ears and the hard drum of my imprisoned heart.
I’ll stop when she’s no longer flopping around and trying to escape, when she accepts what I give her and runs to me instead of tucking tail, disappearing into an impervious hell.
Spanking her again, her forehead presses to the floor, smearing blood I’ll have to clean up while she’s comatose in the middle of her bed.
Her fight’s beginning to wane, the shouts and cussing slowly being replaced with her throaty panting.
Between the struggle and an ache gathering low in her belly, Sadie’s losing ground—good.