Epilogue
One month later
It's said in some circles, that when you suddenly jerk awake from sleep, another version of you, from a different timeline, died.
The scientific ones, like Chelsea, say it’s because your heart rate decreased so rapidly that your brain wakes you up to make sure you’re still alive.
After everything I’ve been through, I’m inclined to think both are true.
Evening creeps in as dusk starts to swallow the skyline. The sand beneath us retains the warmth of the sun, and I’m in no rush to leave the beach just yet. Next to me, Ripley lounges docile as a lamb, his fingers threaded through mine, brim of his hat pulled low, covering his eyes as he dozes.
Neither of us are sure what exactly happened, where we were, or how it can be explained. What we do know, is the eviscerating feeling of loss caught us both off guard.
I’m just happy he didn’t witness the final moments of that place—nightmare, time slip, parallel universe, whatever it was…
the memory would haunt him. The laboured, wheezing breaths I took crawling to his dying light would undoubtedly wake him in the dead of night.
Rip must not have gone to the in-between like I did.
He didn’t see me pick up the gun that was painted with his brain matter and use it to blow a hole through my own skull, because living without him was a fate worse than death.
I’d just watched him fall apart, only to return as he was chasing me to where I’d just come from.
Fate’s fucking cruel, and I refuse to squander this second chance she’s gifted us.
Looking to Rip, my breath catches. It’s an annoying thing, having to fight back emotions every time my gaze lands upon him.
He kept his word where Maximus was concerned, eliminating him immediately and taking Bleakcrest over with a swarm of his own men.
Chelsea, the eavesdropping asshole, watched Ripley and I reunite through the crack in the bathroom door.
I don’t think she fully understood what Rip and I were discussing, or what she was agreeing to when she told me “go.” However, I wasn’t about to argue with her when everything was lining up perfectly.
We communicate daily, and she’s coming to visit at the end of this semester, hopeful to return Ripley’s guard dogs to their rightful owner.
Unfortunately, for her, I won’t allow that.
The team will be swapping out for a new one.
Hopefully, this group is better at staying hidden than the previous one.
Ripley trained them personally so they get it right this time, sending my feelings for him shooting into the stratosphere.
He’s crazier than I ever gave him credit for.
Intercepting the ship, and boarding it. Driven by hope and a gut feeling alone.
I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same, but not in the immediate way he did, without batting an eye.
I’d have sat on it, played it over and over in my head until it drove me insane.
That’s when I would've gone searching for answers.
I untangle my fingers from his. Rising from the sandy towel, I make off toward the slowly lapping waves. The water’s chilly as it touches my toes, but I only need to dunk myself quickly.
Wading out until the water covers my hips, I steady my jitters and dive beneath the surface. My scarlet hair fans around me when I pop back up, close to the shore.
A giggle bubbles up when I take off running back to where Ripley lays, clueless and vulnerable.
I line myself up with his sleeping form, leaping to thump down beside him in hopes of shocking him awake with the frigid water.
Mid-jump, his arms open wide. Rip wraps me in his crushing embrace when our bodies collide, rolling me pinned and helpless beneath him.
“How’d you know I left?”
“I feel your absence as well as your presence, flower.”
“It’s not fair you can do that, and I can’t.”
“Sure it is.”
“How so?”
“You’re the one who likes to be chased. It only makes sense that I know where you are while you’re cute and clueless as to where I am. Makes sneaking up on you that much more fun.”
I roll my eyes. Can’t argue with that logic, I do love to be pursued…hunted.
Without a doubt, I know he’ll follow me wherever I go, no matter the distance or reality. Time and space won’t stop him.
Ripley’s grip on me loosens. “First one home get’s to fuck the other any way they want,” he says, jumping up and taking off toward the gate at the back of the beach.
“That’s cheating!” I call out, but he’s so fast, all I catch is his muscular back dipping into the shadows to the screech of rusty hinges. “Asshole,” I mumble under my breath.
Swiping up our towels and shaking the sand from them, I lay them over my arm before starting the slow trek back home. If he wants to run, I’ll rival the pace of a snail in the cold.
The latch scrapes its familiar metallic sound when I lift it, pushing the heavy gate open. The alley is dark, deserted. I’m thoroughly annoyed I have to walk the unsettling length of this alone, in nothing but a black and white checkered two piece.
“Such a pretty little thing shouldn’t be walking all alone, and so…enticingly dressed.”
The deep voice freezes me in my tracks. Rationally, I know it’s probably Rip. I can’t see him though, and that makes my fear of the unknown a living, breathing thing.
I spin in place slowly, searching for his familiar towering physique.
Rocks scuff beneath booted soles as black leather infiltrates a streetlight’s flickering beam.
That’s not Rip.
He left the house in his well-worn white sneakers.
Black cargo pants adorn a deadly frame as my gaze travels up the length of leg being revealed.
Fuck this.
Dropping the towels, I turn and run. Dipping between two buildings in hopes of losing whoever’s on my tail, without getting lost on my way back to the house.
Fear smothers logic. All I see is one of Maximus’s henchmen, chasing me down to use me against Ripley once more.
Sweat slicks down my spine as I whip around a corner.
The black flats on my feet have no traction, and I slip on the residual sand coating the concrete.
I go down hard, pulse pounding as pain scrapes along my forearms. There’s microscopic grit imbedded in my knees, but I don’t have time to stop.
Pausing to brush the dirt off could be the difference between freedom and re-incarceration.
Keeping my steps swift and light, I round in front of Maple Jacks, hoping to catch my breath, and recalibrate my bearings. I try and remember the path home from the diner, but I was moaning and groaning that whole walk.
“Where’d you go, sweet thing?” The taunt echoes around the crisp night air, obscuring its location. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Backing away, I flatten my spine against the damp wood siding. Inching along the wall, I hold my breath until I duck around the corner, sliding into the darkness.
Retreating from the illuminated sidewalk, I risk heaving in a breath. Damn Ripley to hell for leaving me alone in the middle of the night.
A gloved hand clamps down over my mouth, muffling my scream of terror, as an arm of steel bands around my middle. “Found you.” The rough timber of a male voice slides over my skin as a fabric covered face nuzzles against the nape of my neck, inhaling deep.
Revolting against the assailant, kicking and thrashing, proves no use. He groans appreciatively, squeezing tighter, forcing my body flush with the side of the building. His palms skim down my sides, gripping my hips hard enough to bruise, as his erection presses into my ass.
With his hand lifted from my face, I have the freedom to move, if only slightly. It’s enough to hopefully smash the back of my head into his face, giving me a few seconds to escape.
“Scared yet, flower?”
The rioting heart in my chest freezes, dropping into my gut.
Turning my head only slightly, I glance out of the corner of my eye. Ripley’s hair hangs darkly around his half-masked face. His eyes are the only thing proving it is, in fact, him. Everything else is obscured, Maximus’s employees uniform covering him near perfectly.
Yes, I was fucking terrified. But that’s none of his business.
Ripley tugs the gaiter down his face, his perfect smile sending a jolt through me. “Way to ruin the moment,” I snip, shaking out of his hold.
Rip’s shocked for a fraction of a second before his fingers dive into my hair, fisting tight.
Titillation quakes my thighs, a gasp slipping out.
“Brat.”
“Put the mask back on,” I demand.
He complies.
Hands moving behind my back, I work to undo his belt, dropping his zipper. His cock, hard and heavy in my palm, makes me ache. I don’t think I’ll ever tire of him—of this, the addicting push and pull between us.
Slipping my hand into his boxers, I stroke him slow. Ripley huffs a moan beneath the mask, thrusting into my grip, urging me for more. I don’t give in.
He yanks my hair, tipping my head back to look down, locking our eyes. “Think you can fuck me good enough to spare your life, slut?” He steps back into the intimidating persona, but now that my fear is abated, he just looks deadly, and it's slicking up my cunt.
My pussy pulses around nothing, begging to be filled in only a way Rip can provide. “I can try.” I pitch my voice in a pathetic beg, “Please, let me try.”
Ripley’s obsidian irises roll into the back of his skull as I plead for his cock, twisting my touch over the tip of his crown.
Abruptly, he spins us. Bracing his back against the building, he shoves his pants down his thighs. His length springs free as he inches down the wall.
His fist in my hair tightens to the point of pain as he lines me up in his lap. Rip’s fingers tug my bikini bottoms to the side, and he swipes his tip through my dripping centre. Slowly he tilts his hips, pressing into me.
“Ride me, show me how desperate you are to live.” He slams up into me, and my euphoric cry shatters the silence. Ripley’s pace is brutal. I thought I was supposed to try and save my life. It won’t mater if he fucks me to death.
Eh, there’s worse ways to go.
I’ve experienced them.