I hope people like this chapter. It's kinda a cliff-hanger, because I'm still undecided what should happen next. I mean, Riddick could kill her or kiss her, let her fall, leave her back at home.. ya know? Could people please review. :) Thanks
"Rebel! Why did you have to do that? You know I can't let you try and kill me and then walk blithely off back to your book." He looked at her, sprawled in a half-crouch where she had frozen. "I didn't want to hurt you, but now I have to." Rebel didn't make any excuses.
She didn't even try to fight him as he threw her against a wall. She crumpled to the floor. As he kicked her, she curled up but refused to cry out. Soon she mercifully blacked out. She woke up on the bed. Blood was crusted around her lips, and she had many, many dark blue bruises around her body, as well has grazes. Her cuts fro a fight before Riddick had taken her had bled, and her clothes – his shirt – were stained with dried blood as well as being ripped, but she was too hurt to cover up her body. Both her eyes were black, and reaching to her face, she was thankful that her nose was not broken. Her entire body ached. She rolled over and as her weight shifted to a tender spot, she let out a small moan.
Rebel felt the bile rising in her throat. She tried to stand up, but ended up collapsing on the floor. She dry-retched at the pain. Feeling Riddick's arms around her, she feebly struggled from the pressure around her sore body. He tightened his arms, and as Rebel nearly blacked out from the pain, she relaxed and he lessened the pressure. She allowed him to carry her through to the bathroom. Not like I have any choice. He placed her above the toilet in the bathroom, and she retched. After she threw up everything she had eaten for the last 24 hours, he pulled her up. He eyed her, and she shifted uneasily. Riddick sighed. "I'm gonna take off your clothes." Rebel whimpered softly. "I just need to check your wounds." He tried to pull off her – his – shirt, but it was stuck to her wounds. Riddick's gaze flickered to the shower. He half-carried, half-dragged Rebel to the shower. She lay unresistingly when he dropped her, a crumpled mass. Shit. I didn't mean to beat her that badly. Damnit, Rid! Why is it that the sight of blood makes you lose control! Turning on the shower, he watched, trying to be impassive as the water running down the drain was stained red with blood. Rebel roused herself at the slightly chilly water ran down on her. She tried to get up. Strong survival instinct. I admire that in a woman. He picked her up, trying to be gently. Riddick held her against a wall, and directed a showerhead onto her. Her hair was plastered against her face, and he pushed it away. It must have angered her, as he barely saw the flash of rage in her eyes before she tried to slash at him with her claws.
Riddick growled. The damage she'd done to his arms was shallow compared to what she could have done, but wasn't negligible. He'd bandaged both arms. I am gonna rip out those claws if she isn't careful. He wouldn't let her actually reach his skin, so he moved back. Rebel staggered forward and fell onto him. She looked up at him wretchedly. Riddick sighed. Puppy-dog eyes there, kid. When he pulled out a shiv out of his sodden pants, she didn't move. Riddick began to cut away at her clothing. Rebel soon stood there, naked, defenceless and trembling before his gaze. Riddick eyed her appreciatively, but didn't move towards her, until she nearly fell. They stood there, her bare breasts against his black tank top, his muscular arms holding her by the shoulders. The water had nearly washed her wounds out completely. He felt the blood rushing below his belt. At least I'm already in a cold shower… "Please."
"What?"
The girl made a small noise of frustration. "I don't know Riddick. Just let me go. Let me go home and back to my life. Back to stealing from pricks to give to assholes. Back to my apartment, my friends. Back to where you are just an urban legend. Back home."
Suddenly Riddick felt tired. "Like it or not, girl, you are mine. I could fuck you seven ways to Sunday and nobody would care. I could slit your throat and jettison your body and nobody would care. I don't want to break you, just accept the fact that I own you, and it's only me that you need to worry about. It's up to me what happens to you, so just be a nice little girl and help me."
"I can't Riddick! That's not me. You dragged me from everything I've ever known, and brand me, beat me up, and expect me to play a mary fucking sue for you an help you get your little friend back! Then what? Then do we play happy fucking families? Me in a goddamn apron? Then what?" Her words were all the more shocking for their whispered vehemence.
He didn't reply, just held her in place. She read his gaze and seemed to crumple inwardly. Riddick read her face – shock, anger, fear, helplessness… the emotions crossed her features and he picked them from her eyes. Her teeth held tight on her bottom lip. Trying to keep from crying? Rebel looked away as the blood dripped down her chin. Jeez, that's some stubbornness, girl! I know I fucked up your life, but for Christ's sake! He cradled her face in one hand. She looked up at him, suddenly unashamed of her silent tears.