'Pain and Suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sadness on earth.'
- Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Crime and Punishment
Nothing about that Monday morning could have warned Santana of what was to come. She awoke at the same time she always had, grumpy and irritated from a restless sleep, she trudged towards the room across the hall. She ran the treadmill like she always had, every step waking her up further, a small sheen of sweat beginning to form on her neck.
When she was finished, she got off, took a quick shower, grabbed a granola bar and got dressed for work. Her drive into the city was the same as usual.
It was a particularly warm day in Chicago. The sun glinted against the rooftops and windows, as if it was trying to soak up the grey of the city and replace it with warmth and colour but Santana didn't pay it any attention. She parked in her usual reserved spot, hopped out and headed in the opposite direction of her office. She clutched her bag closer to herself and jogged lightly across the street for her typical morning cup of coffee.
At twenty-five she was incredibly successful and well on her way to making partner when she hit thirty. Santana was one of the top defense attorneys in Chicago, and in city where crime never slept; it was safe to say she was in a never-ending line of work. She walked with a purpose and confidence that was evident in the very air that surrounded her. She oozed a sense of power that was inexplicable and held a quiet sense of self-importance. She rolled her eyes in disgust when she saw an older man staring at her legs in her black pencil skirt.
There was no denying she was stunning. She had soft dark brown hair that fell in waves over her shoulders, big milky brown eyes, the colour of mocha coffee and a smile that dimpled. Not that she smiled much.
Santana opened the door to her local Starbucks, nodded at the barista who knew her name off by heart and went to stand by the line. She sighed, closing her eyes briefly. She hated Mondays.
Life has a funny way of changing in a heartbeat. You go your entire life meeting thousands of people and none of them really touch you. But When Brittany S. Pierce skipped into Starbucks that sunny Monday morning, Santana's life changed forever and the funny thing is she didn't even notice her. She was too busy being stuck in her cloud of perpetual unhappiness to notice something as bright and beautiful as Brittany S. Pierce.
That is until the blonde woman accidentally trips on a carelessly placed bag and bumps straight into Santana's back, her hands hastily grabbing at the shoulders in front of her.
'Hey! Watch where-' Santana growled, catching herself against the counter. She glared, but the rest of her sentence was cut short when her eyes landed find Brittany's.
'Oh…' she breathes out, finding her voice caught somewhere in her throat.
The blonde bombshell in front of her groans softly 'I'm so sorry' she says and motions towards the bag on the floor, a small frown painting itself on her face. "I'm sorry, I tripped over the bag'
The blonde glances up and blue eyes lock on to brown.
It felt to Santana, as she gazed at the blonde beauty in front of her, as if time had slowed down. The barista was still serving the customer in front of her, the breeze fluttered in from the open door the same as usual, but amongst the chatter and noise and despite being in a room full of people, all Santana could see was the woman in front of her.
Blue eyes gazed back just as intently. Santana felt a warm flush spread through her body and the tell tale sign of goose bumps erupt on her arms when she see's blue eyes travel up the length of her legs, to her collarbone, stopping briefly on her lips before they tare themselves away and fix back onto Santana's eyes. She's too flustered to smirk back knowingly.
The door shuts loudly behind them, starling the women from their staring.
"I'm sorry," the blonde repeats
Santana's grins, her dimples showing ''you said that already''
The blonde shrugs, smiling ''I meant it" she spots Santana's bag on the floor, and bends over to pick it up, handing it carefully to the caramel skinned woman, whose confident grin was doing all sort of things to her stomach. Santana smiles in thanks.
They hear a bored "Next!" as the barista hurries the line along. Santana shoots her another smile, before turning around and ordering. She tries not to steal a glance at the blonde on her right, but can't, finding the blonde humming quietly to herself, an adorable smile gracing her face. The blonde has cat like eyes, soft looking pale pink lips and her hair tied back into a high ponytail. Her legs, which seemed to go on forever, where covered only by denim shorts and a light blue jumper, which Santana almost giggled at when she spotted the cute little unicorn stitched on the fabric.
Fuck, she thought, finding the blonde the perfect combination of sexy and adorable.
'That's $3.50 please" the spotty faced teenage barista ask Santana.
She hesitates, having been startled again out of her staring. As she reaches into her purse she feels a warm body inch across her right shoulder as she follows the blondes outstretched hand placing money on the counter.
"What are you doing?"
The blonde smiles again. "It's on me, please, it's the least I could do after bumping into you"
Santana was unaccustomed to being paid for. "You really don't have too, it's okay" she smile's. 'Jesus, Santana thought, what's with all the smiling, she must think I'm on fucking drugs or something.'
The woman's own smile becomes bashful 'it's my pleasure' she orders her drink too and gives the barista a chirpy 'Thank you' as they move to get their orders.
Santana suddenly feels hot. Too hot. Like the woman's smile has heated her skin and she desperately wishes she were at a beach so she could dive head first into the cold ocean water. Her hands feel clammy against the warm cup of coffee and she feels stuck between wanting to run away and hide in her office and wanting to dry hump the shit out of the blonde.
Jesus.
'Santana' the blonde breathes out and Santana's eyes snap to the woman's. 'Pretty name' she says, her eyes on Santana's cup, where her name is scrolled messily against the white cup. She stretches out a hand, "I'm Brittany"
Brittany's hand is bigger than Santana's. The blonde has long slender fingers and one or two rings, but her hands are soft when they gently hold Santana's in her own. It's weird; her handshake is firm, but soft at the same time. There is the briefest moment were Santana's heart flutters and Brittany's looks at her from under her eye lashes, her ears beginning to pink. A man coughs suddenly behind them and both women sense the inevitable.
"It was umm…nice to meet you Santana"
Santana's smile is soft, her eyes longing, "It was nice meeting you too Brittany"
Brittany grins and drops Santana's hand gently, before skipping away "maybe I'll bump into you again sometime"
With one last look back, she leaves, leaving Santana feeling dazed, horny and lonely at the same time. She tightens the fingers holding her cup of coffee, and smiles, before rolling her eyes at herself and happily walking to work, looking forward to a day full of thoughts of blue eyes, blonde hair and a smile that could melt her otherwise cold heart.
Maybe Mondays weren't always so bad.
\
It was hard to keep a smile off my face when I finally turned the corner and walked towards my office. It's not everyday you meet a stunning blonde who's smile makes your knee's weaken. I desperately hoped I would run into her again. My footsteps made loud noises against the wooden floor as I reached my first stop, my knock startling the only occupant in the room as I leaned against the doorframe.
"Hey"
Quinn stops writing and looks up, smiling when she see's me "Good morning S" she narrows her eyes, "what's got you all smiley? You're usually a grouchy bitch in the morning"
I frown "hey! I resent that, it's true but still" I smirk and push off the door, walking towards her "I met the hottest woman in Starbucks and she was totally into me"
Quinn's eyebrows raise in surprise "did you now?" she says, putting her pen down and leaning back against the leather chair "and was she by any chance imaginary?"
I roll my eyes. Quinn was always teasing me about my life love, or lack off. My love life consisted of one-night stands and hook ups, no strings attached, no commitment. It was better this way. I've never had my heartbroken to make me this way, but sometimes you don't need a reason to be the way you are. My walls had always been high, because life had thought me from an early age that the things we love most can be taken from us in a heartbeat and I had seen what love did to people, how it could destroy their soul and change their character.
There was no way in hell, I was going to let that happen to me.
"Oh ha ha Q, very funny" I mumbled sarcastically, before bending down and giving her a hug, my check resting gently on her head, her arms quick to wrap around my waist and squeeze. She smiled when I pulled away.
"I'll see you for lunch?" I ask, stepping away and around her desk.
"yes, if I can drag you away from your office" she replies.
I roll my eyes again, and quickly steal one of her expensive pens, knowing it'll annoy the shit out of her. I laugh when she shouts a 'hey!' but quickly walk away from her office, cackling in delight.
"Santana!" she calls as I turn the corner and into my office. I briefly consider throwing it out of the window but just figured I'd use it instead. I walk towards my desk, my hand sliding softly against the mahogany desk, till I stand next to my own leather chair, looking out on to a large window that showed the Chicago skyline in all its glory. I wondered, for a brief moment, what Brittany was doing, if she was brightening other people's day with her smile the way she had suddenly brightened mine. I let myself smile softly before sitting down and getting started on work, sighing when my assistant comes in, hands full of paperwork.
The rest of the day goes the same as usual. I took my usual lunch with Quinn; met up with some clients, including a fat slob of a man who was determined he hadn't had anything to do with his wife's unfortunate 'accident'. I rolled my eyes reading his file, it was obvious he had done something, but I knew I could get him off without much punishment.
I glance up when I hear a knock, Quinn's face pocking in through the door. Her green eyes look at me in quiet disbelief.
"Seriously Santana? Go home. I know you're finished for the day" she scolds me, crossing her arms and stepping into the room.
The room had darkened considerably. The Chicago sunlight had gone hours earlier being replaced with the darkness of the night. The only light filtering into the room was from the moon, and the lone lamp that shone on my desk, casting shadows over the surfaces of the room. I capped the pen, closed my eyes and leaned back on the chair, tiredness seeping into my bones. It was eight o'clock and I should have left hours ago. But Quinn had something to go home too, or rather someone. Beth was nine now and an exact little carbon copy of Quinn, just with Pucks sense of mischievousness and he's eyes. I didn't have anyone to go home too, nothing but a large empty house and an old bottle of scotch. Quinn understood, I could tell by the way her eyes softened and her shoulders slumped somewhat.
"Do you want to crash at mine today? We could watch that God awful show you like so much"
Despite myself, I grin "Jersey shore? Really?"
Quinn huffs "yes, that one. Beth's still at Puck's. We could grab a pizza, I feel like we haven't had pizza in ages"
I shoot her a smile, grateful as always to have her "sounds awesome, let me get my stuff"
I start packing away, leaving a message for my assistant to call Mr. Drew in the morning and warn his fat ass to be in court on time. I grab Quinn's fancy pen and twiddled it in front of her before she grabs it off me, and I laugh.
I am still laughing when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket, and without looking at the caller ID I stick my tongue out to Quinn who rolls her eyes and motioned for her to give me a second.
"Hello?"
A voice like honey oozes down the receiver and I grit my teeth instantly "Santana. I need you to come in. We have things to discuss"
I feel my blood run cold, looking away from Quinn's worried and knowing look, to the Chicago skyline. "Now?"
"Now."
The line disconnects.
I run a hand threw my hair in frustration "Sorry Q, change of plans"
She sighs, knowing the deal. "Send me a text after okay?"
"Q…"
"Text me" she warns, frowning "or I'll call you. Just let me know you got home safe"
I want to wipe the worried look of her face but I know I can't. She doesn't hug me and I don't hug her. She just looks at me like she wishes she could take me far away from this place and far away from him. With one last look she turns around and heads towards the elevators, as I follow reluctantly behind her.
I fucking hate Mondays.
\
The drive down was forty minutes, but as always it felt like five. I didn't know what it was about the universe that made it that way, time always seemed to race on fast for the moment you dreaded, and it slowed down in the moments you wished to speed up. It was always the same.
I drove the car up the long path, till I reached the high gate. Two armed men stood motionless at its entrance, and immediately straightened up when they saw me. Recognizing the car, one of them speaks into a radio and the gate opens, my foot on the pedal the moment it begins to inch apart. I didn't spare them much of a glance.
The Audi drives effortlessly on the hard ground until the Mansion comes into view. It looked as it had always looked: grand and powerful. Oak Tree's lined behind the house, tall and imposing, casting shadows over the courtyard, where a figure stood with eyes towards the car, following my every move as I parked it near the fountain. I got out, leaving my bag inside and tug my blazer closer to myself, feeling the cool breeze blow my hair gently as I approached the man.
"Finn." I drawled, making sure to sound as condescending as possible. Not that the oaf even knew what condescending meant.
He nodded, "Santana. He's waiting for you in the study"
I rolled my eyes and started to walk, wanting to desperately get everything out of the way, and go home and chug down that scotch. I wanted it to burn the images of this place out of my mind. I was already looking forward to a dreamless sleep.
Everything about this place screamed dangerous and brooding and dark. The floor was an imported wood; from somewhere expensive that I didn't give a shit about, everything was a dark colour, against white walls. There where no photos in the hallways I passed, there were no plants. Life didn't bloom in this house.
Death stalked its hallways instead.
I passed by another set of bodyguards, donned in black suits, a handgun each hanging from their holsters. They were both new and as I approached, the shorter one leered, a hungry look burning in his face. I raised an eyebrow when he held out his hand, preventing me opening the door and stepping into the study.
It became very clear to me he had no idea who I was. I had walked ahead of Finn, not bothering to wait for lumps the clown who trailed behind.
His oily voice made my skin crawl and a calm simmering anger stir deep in my stomach "I think you must be lost darling" he smirked, licking his lips "I'd be happy to show you where you need to go".
The second guy smirked, his eyes on my chest, his hands in his pocket.
I turned my head towards the first guy slowly, one corner of my mouth turning up in disgust. "I've been summoned. He hates tardiness and I just know you don't want to make Him angry now, do you?" I asked, an eyebrow raised as moved a step forward towards the door.
He placed his hand on my shoulder to stop me and I sprung into action. I grabbed the hand that was on my shoulder and twisted it backwards onto itself, his cry of pain bouncing off the walls. I felt movement on my right as his companion snapped into action, his hand reaching for his gun, and I wasted no time in elbowing his face with one sharp dig.
A heard a loud crack, as he crumbled to the ground, holding his nose as blood poured into his crisp suit. The shorter guy's eyes widen in shock, his eyes flitting between the hand I still held in a vice grip and my face. I push his hand further backwards till he cries out and his knee's buckle under the pain. I reach forward with my left hand and steal the gun hanging carelessly in his holster before letting go of his hand, pushing him back against the wall and pointing it straight at his head.
He's eyes widen in fright and I watch as he tries to swallow the lump in his throat as he watches as I cock the gun. My hand holds perfectly still, there is no ounce of hesitation or pity in my eyes, only a calm, unweathering anger that has always lingered burning in my veins. His companion is still groaning on the floor. I had caught him by surprise and he had no adrenaline to mask the pain of a broken nose.
I push the gun into the man's forehead and watch as a bead of sweat begins to form on his brow.
"Please…" he begs, his breathing rapid.
The door suddenly opens and after a pause, all you can hear is a deep rumbling laughter.
"Now now Santana, play nicely"
I glance at the figure in the doorway, my back rigid. Shooting the guy on the floor one last look of contempt, I swiftly take the ammo out of the gun and fling it across the room, dropping the gun to his chest and straightening up in one swift move.
I don't bother to look at the way his shoulders deflate in relief or the look of confusion that passes his face. I hear Finn running towards us, but I spare him no glance, knowing my full attention should be on the figure in the doorway.
My voice is devoid of emotion; my face a mask of blankness. "I'm sorry I'm late"
He laughs again but it isn't friendly or warm, it sends a chill down my spin. He turns towards Finn who is staring at the scene in confusion and breathing heavy. I inch away from him, finding him disgusting and repulsive, but my face remains stoic.
"Finn, take Anderson here to get patched up."
Finn nods and grabs the man on the floor, tugging him away from us and down the hall. The man on the floor stands up unsteadily and the man in the doorway honey-like voice echoes across the narrow hallway "leave now. I'll deal with you later"
I know exactly what is to come, and a part of me now pity's the poor fuck. His eyes hold more fear now than they did when I held the gun to his head and I understand the feeling. He walks briskly down the hallway. I doubt I would ever see him again.
I look back towards the door and find it empty, straightening my back I walk in and close the door behind me, coming to a stop before the desk where the man sits down and I wait.
He is tall, with dark black hair slicked back and immaculate. He's suit is tailor-made and obviously expensive and it fits his body perfectly. Everything about this man screams respectable, you find men like him in all positions of power; he looks like the kind of guy you'd find out to be a doctor or lawyer or even a president. Everything about him screams power. He's voice is like honey, the kind that tells you to point a gun at your own head and pull the trigger, simply because he asks it of you.
He is dangerous and nothing in this world frightens you more than he does.
Nothing.
He's brown eyes study you as he pulls out a cigar and begins to light it. He doesn't say anything, just studies you and you can feel a small sliver of sweat running down your spine. Nerves and apprehension threatening to make you burst but you hold still. You are use to this game; you know how to play it.
So you wait.
He must see determination in your eyes because he smokes once more, before getting up and coming to sit on the desk in front of you. You take a step back, putting a little distance between you both and even though it is done subtly and carefully, he notices.
Pleased, he begins to talk. "I called you over because I find myself in a particular situation and I need someone I can…trust."
I try not to fidget "what kind of situation?"
"You are the legitimate part of my empire Santana. And it needs to stay that way. However…" he smokes some more and I watch as he's face becomes hidden behind a grey cloud. "A man recently witnessed one of my more…important transaction's and normally I would have disposed of him but since that new major has come into office, we have found it increasingly hard to buy off the police, so killing him isn't the best option right now"
"And what does that have to do with me?" I ask
He smiles "well, I am going to need you to take on a few cases. Some of my guys have been caught and I don't trust anyone else to take on their case"
I let out a shaky breath, relieved. He just wants me to take a couple cases on, essentially he wanted me to do what I did for a living but for free. I could do that.
I give him a sharp nod "it'll be done"
He smiles, an evil glint in his eyes "good."
There is a knock on the door, he frowns and calls for them to enter. The door open's hesitantly to reveal Finn "umm…Sir, your 'guest' has arrived and she's causing a bit of a fuss"
I look back towards the man whose eyes seem to blacken in pleasure, a sinister grin plastered on his face. It makes my blood run cold.
"Excellent, I'll be right there."
Finn nods and walks away, I glance back in time to watch him put his cigar away and every cell in my bone is screaming at me to get the fuck out of here now. Too late, I realize he's seen the desperation on my face and I hurry to make my escape.
"If that is all Sir, it's time head home" I tell him, beginning to move towards the door. He's voice halts my movements.
"Now hold on a moment Santana, I'd like you to see this. We have a guest and it'd be rude not to come say hello"
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
"It is getting really late" I try in vein
He walks up behind me, till I feel small in his presence and the very air I share with him feels like it is suffocating me with its evil. He places a hand on my shoulder and its over.
"I insist," he tells me, his voice cold. He lets go and walks ahead of me and I know I must follow.
I follow behind him, keeping my eye on his back as we walk in silence to the other side of the house. I see a few people littered around, each carrying some short of firearm in their holsters, all of who eye the ground as the tall man in front of me continues to walk until we stop at a dingy looking door, its edges peeling. I flinch immediately, hearing noise float up from the closed door.
I can feel my heart begin to hammer in my chest as my stomach does little kart wheels. I know I wont like what I find in there, and I'm itching to wipe the sweat off my brow. He opens the door casually and begins walking down. I pause, feeling my phone vibrate in my pocket and I know its Quinn checking up on me. He pauses on a step but doesn't look back, just tilts he's head to the side a bit till I and I know that's my queue to keep following.
When we get to the bottom of the stairs and into a large open cellar, I feel like I'm going to throw up.
There ahead of me, chained to the wall like a dog is a familiar looking woman. Her hair is a wild mane surrounding her face, like a halo of gold. She's wearing grey sweats and a matted white shirt that has been ripped, leaving a long slit in the middle of her chest, her cleavage on display. Her mouth is gagged, but her cries of despair fill the room. I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and try not to vomit.
Three men surround her, and whilst they immediately straighten up when they see their boss, its obvious they were taunting her. Her hands are tied up with handcuffs, and her wrists bleed from the strain of her desperate struggles to break free. She hasn't seen me yet. But I could see from my position behind Him how her eyes widen in terror at the sight of Him. She knew with one glance at Him that he was pure evil, she could tell just by He's very presence. She struggles some more, tears streaming down her eyes as hopelessness sets in.
He moves towards her and that's when she notices me. Her eyes hit mine, blue against brown. For split moment it feels as though my heart has stopped beating, till it begins to race like a jackrabbit inside my chest.
It's Brittany.
Brittany, the girl from Starbucks who paid for my drinks; Brittany who I had only just met this morning; Brittany who is beautiful and sunny and in the worst place on earth. Gagged, bleeding, red faced and tearful.
Brittany.
An angel at the mercy of a demon.
Her eyes look hopeful for a moment, desperately so, but when I make no move to help her they become confused and then tearful. Her eyes close slowly and tears slip past and onto her cheek.
Finn whispers to the man in front and He nods, before he's cold eyes fall on Brittany and He moves towards her. I felt my own feet move towards her too, and I want so badly to run in between her and this monster, who was looks at her like she is a dispensable toy as easy to discard as any other. Finn eye's me then but doesn't comment.
"So" He's honey like voice begins "I bet you are wondering why you're here. It's quite simple. You're father was witness to a very important business transaction and unfortunately I need to make sure he doesn't talk to the police. So my boys here' he nods towards Finn and the others "brought you here as…insurance if you will." She struggles against the chains, the gag preventing her from speaking, and I grit my teeth, feeling a rage envelope my body.
He laughs "not to worry dear, you'll be back with your father as soon as the court cases are over."
I feel my hands curl into fists. Fucking liar. He won't let her go. He is merciless and knew all too well how hope could destroy a person's soul. He was the grim reaper and he always collected.
He continues he's charade, He's voice floating over the dry cellar, resounding against the vintage bottles of wine "now, the only thing that remains is where to keep you, I can't have you in the cellar. All I need is for a noisy officer with a warrant to find you down here. So where to put you…" he stroke's the light beard on his face, as if genuinely contemplating what to do.
I know him, better than anyone, I know him. He would kill her. He was above all, cruel and intelligent. He would kill her and when as soon as he knew he could would kill her father too.
"I'll take her"
Five pairs of eyes turn to stare at me but I keep my eye's on his "You said you need a place to keep her, my house is further away from the city and she can stay there as long as you need" as if I am ever fucking giving her back to you. "No one would come looking for her at mine"
He smiles, but it's calculating and curious and He's eyes study me. Brittany struggles against the bonds again, her shoulders straining like she's trying to reach me. But I keep my face clear, void of any emotion. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, so loud it's all I can hear as I keep a steady gaze on him.
"Why?" he asks, his tone light, the same tone a person would use to enquire about the weather. Brittany continues to struggle against her chains, the gag barley muffling her screams and in an instant I see his mood change. It happens so quickly. He's eyes suddenly become stormy and he's hand shoots out, backhanding her across the face violently, the loud smack sound defining against the room.
I feel my blood boil as every cell in my body begs for He's death.
It takes every single second of practiced calm to stay still and steady, to act cold as he's eyes move from Brittany's onto my own.
Brittany whimpers pitifully, tears streaming down her face as she buckles and crumples to the floor, sobbing quietly. Blood trickles down her beautiful face from where his finger ring left a long cut across her jaw. I try to remember to breathe.
When he looks at me, my face is expressionless, as if I am unbothered by what just happened, but he's eyes are almost a charcoal black now, a dark storm sweltering underneath the surface.
"She could be my servant. My house is big and could do with some cleaning, and when you're ready, say the word and I'll bring her back" I try not to grit my teeth and pray I look nonchalant "And then you may do as you wish"
He stares at me, and as suddenly as it came, He's dark expression is gone and He smiles. "Bueno. That's settled then. She'll belong to you for the time being." He laughs, "a lawyer breaking the law, I love it"
A sudden jarring noise plays throughout the cellar, drowning Brittany's quiet sobs. He reaches a hand into the suit of his pocket and pulls out a phone. I don't pay attention to what he says; my eyes gaze hungrily at the blonde, desperately wanting to get her the fuck out of here, and now.
I can feel my eyes water a bit and I sniff quickly. Her eyes catch mine and I soften. Before snapping my eyes away when he switches of he's phone and turns once more towards me.
"Enough of this. I have business to attend to" he eyes me then "take her before I change my mind"
And like that he's gone, along with the two other guys until there is only Finn, Brittany and I left alone. I let out a shaky breath, and quickly make my way to her and crouch down. She sniff's and open's her mouth as if to say something, but I hold up a finger to my lips.
Even though Finn is a certified fucking idiot, I can't risk the chance he'll blab to the monster and give him any inkling that I know this woman, and already care for her.
Finn pulls out a set of keys from his pockets and reaches over to un-cuff Brittany who immediately groans in pain. I shot him a death glare that has him backing away from her quickly and scurrying up the stairs and out of the door. She gets up on shaky legs, sniffs and rubs her wrists, which look red, raw and tender. I shrug my blazer off and place it gently over her shoulders and her look of gratitude almost cripples me. Her eyes are red but soft as they lock on to mine and I can't help but gently wipe a stray tear that falls from her eyes, letting my hand linger for the briefest moment on her cheek. She sighs and her eyes flutter close.
I grit my teeth, seeing the cut on the other side of her jaw, grateful the bleeding has stopped, even though it still looks painful and raw as fuck.
I hold a finger to my lips one more time, because I can tell she is burning to ask questions, most of which I know she'll hate the answers too. I nod my head towards the door and start walking to it slowly, and Brittany clings to me immediately, fear framing her beautiful face.
Keeping my eyes on her, I slowly place an arm around her waist and let her put her weight on me as we begin to trudge up the stairs. My heart is still racing in my chest because I know we weren't out of the water yet. But Brittany feels soft and warm leaning against me, heavy too, and I try not to let myself linger on the smell of female deodorant and a sweet ocean-like scent that must be all her.
She stumbles a bit on the stairs, her legs weak from her ordeal and tears still threatening to fall from her red-rimmed eyes. But I hold on tight, and seeing the shadow of Finn at the top of the stairs I lean in till my mouth by her ear and whisper, "I've got you."
I sallow past the lump in my throat and try not to cry too, holding her gently to me "I've got you."
When we get to my car, Brittany is almost asleep from exhaustion and she all but blacks out the moment I strap her seatbelt in. As we pull out of the Mansion, I can almost feel familiar dark stormy eyes watching us leave like a hawk from the second floor study. Finn's car follows me home, driving steadily behind us and I know he'll remain outside my house for the foreseeable future, a watchdog, watching every move I make to report back to his master like the faithful dog he is.
I peak a glance at the angel laying asleep in the warmth of my car, one of her hands holding my blazer tightly in her fist and I can't hold back the heart wrenching sob that tumbles out of my mouth. I breathe heavily, wiping my eyes when my tears start to blur my vision. They fall slowly down my face, my knuckles white from where they are clenched around the steering wheel tightly.
I cry for the beautiful woman next to me who was in this position. And I cry because I know it will get worse before it get better. But I know, without a shadow of doubt in my mind, that I would do everything to protect her. I felt like I owe her that, at least. I can feel a fierce sense of protectiveness for her being born in the deepest corner of my soul.
"I've got you." I whisper, my feet on the peddle, anxious to get home.
I'm sorry about the grammar + spelling, i have always, always sucked at it.
(for the record, the story will never feature any of kind triggers relating to sex, but it will be a tad violent)
it's kind of scary to put a Brittana fic up because there are so many insanely good ones, but let me know if anyone actually wants to read more, if so, i'll put more info out on the next chapter.
=)
