- Chapter Forty-Three -

And How Did That Work For You?

That probably should have been the end of it. But no, Samuel still had a bone to pick.

Peace tenuous at best in those next few seconds, one could argue that even a forced truce was better than all out war. On a good day, he might have agreed with that sentiment, however today was not a good day: his ward had caught the scent on the air; the poxy swine tender was defiant; and he was being tested at every possible opportunity. So no, today was not a good day. Today was a shit day, and tomorrow couldn't come fast enough.

God, if he had to count every crappy thing that had transpired on his hand, he would run out of room before he could even brush the quarter mark. To top that off, everything that happened since arriving at his brother's place was probably only going to set the snowflake off and scar her for life. Well, what was left of her.

Frankly the only positive thing was that Daniella had been embarrassed into silence and was trying to turn away so he didn't catch the ruby flush in her cheeks, but he knew.

Be thankful, he thought to himself, the temptation to strangle her still very real.

In his own way Sam had been trying, he really had, but everything was just going every possible shade of wrong.

Nathan and Elena were simply better at this kind of thing, so in hindsight the brunette obviously should have just left it to them. But no, like a jackass, he had to be the one to tend to the weeping baby girl. And what a great job I'm doing! There wasn't exactly a planned monologue for how this was supposed to go, but if there had been, he wouldn't have gotten around the assert yourself portion until near the end. Or maybe the beginning, but it certainly wasn't going to come out like it did.

"Wow." Achieving victory on the grounds of disqualification, it wasn't enough for the ex-con, so he pressed her harder, "If I were Angel I'd be shaking in my shorts." Mocking Dells for her mercy he may have gone a step too far, but in his frustration, he didn't immediately get that and was just spewing out whatever came to mind.

Hearing Angel's name broke something in the girl, and not in the usual way that left semi-visible cracks on the veneer.

Ice, the young woman outgrew her embarrassment like an indigobird in a firefinch nest and retaliated as if the hipster were the one standing opposite her. Tapping deep into even the furthest catalogs of her training, the rules of self-defense suddenly quite hazy, she shoved Sam again. Heel of her hands flat against his chest with her fingernails digging into her palms, this time the bastard was going down!

Despite being knocked down on his ass with a satisfying thud, her foot still had a fair deal more to say. Suffering the wrath of the first instep without much of a choice in the matter, the man acted on instinct and didn't take the next stomp idly. Quicker than she'd given him credit for, he had skillfully managed to get his foot around her ankle without her noticing. Eye for an eye, he tripped her and sent her crashing down in turn.

Both sprawled out horizontally on the pale sands, the scene could (and by all rights should) have played out very differently. But fuck me and what I want. Rolling to the side and picking himself up before she could get the drop on him again, it was all Sam could do to remind himself who he was dealing with. If you gotta hit her... Doorways responsible for two-thirds of the most recent damage, the heiress had taken her fair share of lumps, although to her credit she didn't look any worse for wear. A little sandy maybe, but otherwise she was in one piece.

More or less.

Form a solid seven, Daniella sprung up with a display of savagery that was legitimately disconcerting.

See, she was totally fine!

"You won't get away with it!" Sable world closing in around her in spite of the sun, the young woman screamed loud enough to be heard clear on the other side of the island. Beyond everything but blind fury at that point, the only thing Daniella could see was Angel and Ashley standing in the pawn shop. Happy and popping their gum as they chronicled that old woman bartering with the clerk. Had they targeted her too, or was that just what they did in their spare time? "You won't!"

Or not.

Initially there had been no reason to regret getting away from the others, however now that the possibly secretly unhinged young woman was on a rampage, the thief was suddenly of a different opinion. Throwing up his arms to block what he couldn't tuck and dodge (which at his age was more than he cared to admit), the thief was reminded of the same manic spirit that overtook Rafe in a fight. Even just a practice run that wasn't supposed to be taken seriously.

Rafe. The ex-smoker might not have had clean hands in this either, but if there was anyone to blame it was that rat bastard. After all, he was the girl's father and therefore responsible for her wiring. Especially as it was beginning to look just as faulty.

Shit, I can't hit her back! Grappling with his grievances, he played out a number of scenarios in his head, and none of them ended particularly well.

Annoyed, even bordering on full-on rage at moments, there was no way that Sam was going to do more than defend himself! The fist balling itself was just itching to end this - come on, like 75% effort wouldn't really hurt her - but it wouldn't be right. Unable to see clearly, Dells obviously wasn't in her right head, and he'd maybe touched the wrong nerve.

Still though, the historian wasn't such a saint that he was going to just let her try to beat him to a pulp; catching her next blow before it could land, he held fast to her right wrist and twisted. It wasn't an overly dickish twist, just enough to capture the second wrist and maybe make her think twice about proceeding. Frankly it probably would have ended up being more regrettable if he hadn't acted.

Growling like a feral cat and struggling against the man until their foreheads were touching, by the time the crowd had gathered, it wasn't going to be long until one or both of them were on their knees. Would it have killed them to hurry the hell up? What, did they break for coffee on the way?! Statistically speaking Sam should have had the advantage over Daniella in terms of strength, but she was holding her own considerably well under the circumstances.

Crack! Sensing by the arrival of additional bodies that her victory might be denied her, the girl knocked her on remaining weapon in to her perceived foe's, sending a resounding slam throughout the island. Drowned in sweat and now sporting a monster headache (take your pick who was worse off there), they may have tired one another out, but she had paid back the hole in her shoulder.

More reparation to come, before she knew what had happened there were hands folding around her waist, a pair of strong arms ripping her away from her enemy before justice could be served. Immediately her mind had gone to Sam, but they weren't on the best of terms either. Wait...something seemed off, but she couldn't quite place what.

Airborne and free of her tormentor, Daniella tried to kick out at Angel, to reach any part of him that she possibly could, "Call your goons off! Fight me like a man!"

Proximity too close to avoid getting tagged, the thief was definitely going to be sporting the girl's handiwork for the next couple of days.

Elena helped Sam get back up on his feet, questions burning in her bright avocado shutters; like the cameras she so adored, there was no doubt that she would be taking all of this in. So long as she didn't begin to do her job on the spot, the TV personality could think or do whatever she pleased. Honestly he was just relieved that the other two were holding Dells back from making him just another pretty smear on the pearly pebbles.

Using the opportunity to look a little deeper than the infinitesimal salty sands stuck to Daniella's face, he saw a frightened five-year old boy that had just lost his mother, an older brother scrounging to keep his head above the water.

Nathan... Gaze flickering over to his little brother while he struggled to keep the she-beast at bay as the doctor attempted to soothe her, Sam remembered a time shortly after Sullivan had come into the picture. His position had immediately been threatened by the arrival of the other man, and he'd said some truly regrettable things. For the life of him he couldn't recall the specifics, yet he'd never forget the fight that had ensued. The hurt look on his sibling's face.

Did I just make that same mistake again? So much for learning from history... Berating himself even as the girl realized her fight was lost, the brunette saw something flicker and die in her gaze. Resigned and slumped forward, one could almost dare to hope that she had regained her senses, but no.

Hair falling forward to obscure most of her face, the longer he stared the clearer it became that there was a darkness, the shadow of the monster that Bai hid in her closet for those that she supposedly loved, the expectations of a ghost. Terrible secrets lurked in that hollow void, regrets and insecurities shifting below the surface but no less dangerous. It would have been easy to say that the pressure had gotten to her, but that wasn't quite the case. It was close to the truth, but there was more behind her eyes than anyone her age should have had to deal with.

"I hate you." Waves lapping gently not too far away, seagulls cawed a little ways into the background as they came out to fish for their dinner. Unsure if she had directed the words at him or not, there was part of the man that wished he were on the menu instead.