A/N: This chapter was long in coming, but here it is. I'm uploading the next sometime tomorrow.
It was inspired by "My Body Is a Cage" by Peter Gabriel.
Enjoy!
alix33: They're going to talk soon… it might not turn out the way you all expect though. Thank you for reviewing!
beachbabe: Sorry I kept you waiting so long! Thanks for taking the time to write a review.
rlrct: Thank you! To be honest, I'm curious too as to how the relationship issue will be resolved *laughs* But I have a few ideas.
AvaniHeath: Thank you, both for your lovely review (which I, and I know I'm repeating myself, just love!) and your help and support. :)
Thank you all so much for sharing your thoughts with me!
Disclaimer: JAG is property of Donald P. Bellisario. I'm only borrowing.
9 My body is a cage
He hadn't expected to feel it again so soon.
He swallowed hard as he watched her set down the cat and gaze down the street, one hand on her hip. She was too far away for him to see her face properly, but he thought she was looking sad. Daylight was fading quickly now, yet he could see her quite clearly as she stood there, unmoving. He wondered what she was thinking. Curiosity stirred in him, sparking a sensation in his heart that he had come to hate as well as relish. The urge to possess. To break. To kill.
It tugged viciously at him, that sensation, and he locked his muscles in place to stay where he was, fighting the urge to go outside and talk to her again. Even after all this time he still didn't know why some women attracted him, woke the predator in him, while others didn't. But he did know that all it took was one look for him to know that she was the one. That he had to have her or he would go insane.
At first he'd tried to fight it. Hadn't wanted to be branded a monster. But he couldn't change who he was and he'd learned to accept it, embrace it even.
And now, as he looked at her, he knew that he couldn't let her escape.
The predator was growing restless. The satisfaction of the last kill was already wearing off, the memory fading until he could barely remember what it had felt like to touch her, could barely remember the soft moan that had escaped her lips as the life had drained out of her, the surge of power he had felt when his hands closed around her throat for the last and final time.
He'd chosen well. Better than he had in the past. Some had been too fragile, had broken too easily. They hadn't satisfied the predator in him. It enjoyed breaking the body quickly, but the spirit—now that was different. The predator wanted them to fight. She—Flo, as her friends called her—had. She'd presented a challenge. She'd yielded like the thin branches of a willow tree in the storm, but she hadn't snapped. She'd preserved her strength and she had done what none of the others had ever achieved. She'd escaped.
A smile tugged at his lips as he re-lived the memory, the excitement and the elation when he had discovered that she was gone. It had taken him the better part of the night to track her down; she'd covered more ground than he would have thought possible, but in the end it hadn't been enough. She'd been too weak, too damaged, too slow. But she'd refused to submit to him until the very end. Until he had brought her home to die. Then she had cried.
He wondered if she would cry. He hoped not. He'd sensed strength in her when he had spoken to her this afternoon and strength aroused the predator.
He allowed himself one last look before he withdrew and began planning.
A/N: Please review :) I love hearing your thoughts.