Chapter Twelve
Paul slid off the bed and made his way back to the bathroom, running the damp rag beneath the cold faucet, squeezing out the excess water until it was once again cool before returning to the alcove to find Flick flopped against the pillows, her bruised face flushed and sweaty. He folded the rag and placed it across her forehead like he recalled his mom used to do whenever he was running a fever. "Are you still in pain babe?" he asked, stroking a dark purple bruise just above her knee.
"I think I need something stronger than Tylenol and I really hate throwing up," she grimaced, palming the rag against her forehead.
"Dwayne said you've probably got a slight concussion," Paul frowned, his eyes drifting to the small patch of gauze just above her temple that covered a small gash. "I don't think you've broken anything though, I was was worried you mighta broke a rib or two but Dwayne seems to think they're probably just bruised."
"I guess I'm lucky then, aren't I?" she gave him a faint smile, though her eyes showed her pain.
"Lucky?" he scoffed, arching his brow incredulously. "Flick you were pushed down stairs, violated and almost fucking raped. How the hell is that even close to lucky?" he argued, trying to keep the tremor of rage out of his voice but failing miserably.
"I just mean I'm lucky I didn't break anything – it could have been worse," she murmured, averting her eyes.
Paul growled, leaping to his feet and paced the alcove in an attempt to push back his building anger. "Whether you broke a bone or not, it doesn't fucking matter Flick!" he yelled, feeling guilty when she flinched. "I shouldn't have fucking told you to hang around the boardwalk on your own. Just knowing how he fucking touched you-" Paul seethed, "-then almost..." Paul clenched his fist, exhaling sharply. "You didn't fucking deserve that! If I'd have fucking been there, I'd have ripped their jaw off if they even so much as fucking spoke to you."
A heavy silence fell between the two of them before Flick spoke. "Paul you can't blame yourself for what happened. I know where you are when you're not around, you can't fight your thirst, it's part of who you are..."
Paul's chest tightened, acknowledging the truth he'd been so afraid to give attention to. Flick was right, he couldn't fight his thirst and it only seemed to grow stronger since she'd come into his life, it was becoming harder to dismiss, harder to ignore, his thirst for blood insatiable. He knew he couldn't fight it, it was inevitable that he'd have to leave her alone in order to sate his thirst and after tonight, the thought of leaving her made his stomach roil. However, he knew that if he stayed, it could be her with his fangs imbedded in her neck and there no way in hell he'd be able to live with himself if he killed her. In fact, he'd stand on the cliffside and wait for dawn, waiting for the moment the sun turned him to ash. Paul exhaled a weary sigh, settling back onto the bed beside her, his arm gently curling around her shoulders when she lay her head on his chest, her hand fumbling with the lapels of his jacket.
"I don't know what to do Flick," he mumbled in self-pity, toying with the stray curls that had fallen loose from the band holding her hair. "I feel like I have this itch that I just can't scratch, you know? Like killing those two assholes wasn't enough..."
"Do you need to feed?" she murmured.
"No I need to know why, I wanna know why those two fuckers hurt you. Was it just some random attack or was there more to it? I just need something, anything..." he palmed his forehead.
Flick pushed herself up onto her elbow, grimacing when the action irritated her ribs. "I think it was a set-up," she stated, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, forgetting her lip was split and winced when the cut re-opened, leaving blood running down her chin.
Paul wiped away the blood with the pad of his thumb, resisting the urge to taste her, wiping his hand on his jeans instead. "What makes you think that? Did they say something?"
Flick nodded and Paul frowned when her eyes misted with tears.
"What did they say babe?" he urged, gently cupping her face in his hands, his core aching when she leant inti his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as tears trickled from beneath her lashes.
"The one with the mohawk-" she swallowed, meeting his eyes, "-when he first caught up with me, he said something about Star not telling them how pretty I was... I think it was Star, I think she sent them after me but I just don't know why," she sniffled.
Paul growled, slamming his fist against the mattress in frustration. "That fucking bitch, I should have ripped her fucking throat out when I had the chance. David never should have let her live, she's fucking poison."
"Do you think..." she trailed off, seeming to be struggling to form the words she wanted to say, "...do you think Mike knew about it?"
"Do you really need to ask that babe?" Paul sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"He's supposed to be my brother... how could he agree to that? How can I live in the same house as him knowing he pretty much gave the OK to some random guys to... to rape me," Flick sobbed and Paul's chest tightened.
"You don't have to go back there babe, you know that right? You can stay here with me," he soothed, stroking her hair.
"I know but I just... I wanna know why," she sniffled, pulling back and swiping at her puffy eyes.
"Say the word and I'll give the order for the boys to bring them here, there's no way the cowards can lie to us, to David especially," he offered.
"Do it..." Flick nodded, running a shaky hand through her hair.
"Are you sure you wanna do it now babe? I'm worried about you," Paul frowned, stroking her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
"Please Paul," she implored.
"OK," he reluctantly agreed.
~/~
"Wait," David ordered, tossing the headless corpse in his arms to the floor.
"Did you change your mind about having a kick-about?" Marko smirked, gripping the corpses head by the mohawk and waved it in the air.
"No-" he replied, the corner of his mouth curving in a slight smirk, "-there's been a change of plan."
"What do you mean?" Dwayne inquired, his eyebrow arched inquisitively as he kicked at the mangled corpse by his feet.
"Apparently the attack was a set-up," David explained, his eyes trained on something unseen in the distance.
"Seriously? What kind of sick fuck sets someone up to be gang-raped? And I thought I was depraved," Marko screwed his face up in disgust.
"You are-" Dwayne countered and Marko grinned, flashing his teeth, "-do we know who it was?"
"Star-" David deadpanned and both Dwayne and Marko's eyes darkened with hatred, "-Marko I want you to take private dipshit and rob zombie back to the cave – keep them hidden for now. Dwayne, I want you to come with me, it's time she knew how fucking lucky she is to still be alive," he stated coldly, his face stoic while his eyes blazed with fury.
~/~
Star peered out of the window at the narrow, sheltered passageway littered with tab ends and shards of broken glass, her nose wrinkling at the stale odour of beer that lingered in the air. She grimaced, hating the fact she was stuck in such a shithole. Motels in Santa Carla had notorious reputations for housing pimps, drug dealers, criminals on the run, seedy truck drivers looking for a place to have a quick fuck with lot lizards and asshole business men looking for somewhere to bang their mistress behind their doting wives back. Star swallowed, she was now part of that sordid reputation, reduced to hiding in this dump seen as Michael refused to cough up the cash for a room with a better view than a shitty concrete parking lot.
Star stepped away from the window, returning to her agitated pacing. She flinched when a thunderous domestic dispute erupted from the room adjoining theirs. Accusations of 'fucking some dumb slut' came from one corner while 'well maybe if you didn't guard your damn pussy like it was a blueprint of area 51, I wouldn't need to wet my dick elsewhere, would I?' flew from the other. Every noise had her on edge, every bump, groan and rattle making the hairs on her arms stand on end.
She knew they'd be coming for her and she could only hope she could keep hiding until they grew bored of the chase...
Star palmed her forehead, exhaling a slow, nerve-steadying breath, her eyes roaming the room that she'd been forced to reside in. The room itself was as devoid of glamour as she was of patience. The walls were a mucky beige and looked as though someone had used the wallpaper as a coffee filter before sticking it to the cheap plasterboard. The carpet was a mocha colour interspersed with swirls of cream, making her wonder if the owners had bothered to redecorate since the seventies. A large king-sized bed was pushed up against the wall bordering the adjoining room while a lop-sided wardrobe stood in the corner of the room with a large vanity/coffee station pushed against the wall opposite the bed and in the corner beside the window next to the door was a small table and two saggy-cushioned chairs.
"I don't understand why we're here Star," Michael sighed, flopping back against the lumpy pillows.
"Neither do I - you could have at least got us a room where we didn't have to bunk with roaches," she pouted.
"I told you I'm not paying hundreds of dollars to stay in a hotel thirty minutes away from where I live rent-free," he countered pointedly.
"I told you it's not safe for us to stay there, not until things die down a little – they're gonna be pissed Michael and they're not the kind of guys you want to piss off when they know where you live," she chewed her lip anxiously, her eyes drifting to the room door.
"Why couldn't we have stayed at your place?" Michael asked, grabbing her hand, pulling her down beside him on the bed.
"David knowns where I live Michael, we need to disappear, just for a few days," she answered, brushing his hair from his face.
"Fine, but I don't get why you're so afraid of those guys, they've got no proof it was us that set Flick up, for all they know it was just a random attack, it's not like Santa Carla's the safest place to be on your own after dark."
"It's just a precaution honey-" she smiled, pushing Michael onto his back as she straddled his hips, "-besides, don't you think it will be nice to spend some time alone without worrying anyone's going to hear us?" she smirked.
"When you put it that way..." he smirked, his hands moving to rest on Star's hips.
"Yeah, I thought you might change your mind," she purred, moving his hands to cup her breasts as she teasingly rolled her hips.
~/~
David lurked in the shadows of the motel parking lot, his eyes trained on the door to room fifteen. The wisps of grey smoke spiralled from the smouldering cigarette he held to his lips, momentarily obscuring his vision. He lowered his hand, exhaling a plume of smoke over his shoulder, his body rigid, a trained predator primed to strike.
David's head snapped to the left when he heard the deep rumble of an engine, the subtle skid of tires followed by the distinct thump of boots on tarmac as a scruffy figure emerged from a rusting pick-up truck. He flicked the tab of his cigarette to the floor, grinding the nicotine stained sponge into the gravel with the toe of his boots, imagining it was Star's stuck-up face. David's hands balled into fists by his side, his muscles taut like coiled spring as his eyes tracked the lone stranger as he made his way to his room. The second the strangers door slammed shut behind him, David emerged from the shadows with a familiar hulking figure flanking his side as he scanned the parking lot for any sign of life before he stalked towards the motel room he knew she was hiding with silent, predatory grace.
David paused outside the door, resting his forehead against the flimsy wood, his body trembling with unadulterated rage. His nostrils flared, picking up the foul scent of sweat, shit and burnt out crack pipes that seemed to permeate the motels very foundation. It was only fitting that Star and her latest ride were holed up in a shithole housing the dregs of society, amongst the gutter rats that fed on other peoples misery. He was livid that the bitch had the cheek to hurt one of his pack, wasn't it enough that she'd toyed with him? He'd let her live when he should of killed her, ripped out her black heart and tossed her off the cliff. Paul might not be his closest ally amongst their ranks and Flick might still be on the cusp of acceptance but he still considered them family, Paul was his brother and Flick was destined to join the pack and when someone fucked with his family then he took it personally.
'Are you sure you can control yourself?' Dwayne's voice resounded in his mind and he glanced over at his closest friend, his brows furrowed in a frown. It would be a lie to say he was calm when he could feel his fingers itching to wrap around the bitches throat but he was forcing himself to keep control for Paul's sake, this was his mates choice – for now.
'Best behaviour, scots honour,' he replied with a nod as he raised his foot, aiming for the doors lock. David exhaled sharply, cracking his neck as he flexed his fists, reigning in his violent urges as the scent of Star and Flick's brother radiated through the splintered wood.
He just had to calm down enough that he wouldn't kill the bitch before he got her back to the cave...