The air outside was so thick one felt to be swimming through it.
Two rooms were purchased along with some food, but after a hot shower, Evelyn complained of mild headaches and went to bed without eating. The ferryman refused to leave her alone; she had finally disclosed to him that she had minorly injured her head; he berated her and decided to stand watch in case it proved serious. She fell asleep in her towel, and the ghoul tucked her away under the swath of blankets. Hours passed, and Campbell had knocked at their door. Evelyn awoke, drenched in sweat; the ferryman knew she had nightmares just from the way she regarded him. He forced her to sit and shovel something into her stomach before he ultimately allowed them to leave. Campbell had brought an oversized shirt, and Charon merely grumbled at the extremely tight fit.
They strolled into the security headquarters; Charon was gawked at.
"As you know, I'm Chief Cooper. I run the security detail here in Lake Capers, and oversight the actions of the Caper Protection Force. But, please, call me Coop." The handlebar mustached man directed for them to be seated inside of a conference room. "This is Deputy Jenkins-" He indicated to the blonde woman on his right. "-and Deputy Espinoza." A man on his left. "Tell me what you can."
Campbell took lead on the story, filling in his bits as Evelyn recounted her side. Charon remained silent the entire time with his arms crossed, not caring to speak.
"I'm sorry we couldn't be there to assist; I've been trying to send out a squad for a couple of weeks now, but, sometimes orders are orders." Coop ducked his head and coughed. "Thank you for doing what you could."
He blinked at the ferryman and his intimidating nature. "You sound like hell with legs; if you ever need a job, you come to me."
Charon snorted.
They all then parted back to their respective lodgings, and Evelyn crawled into bed. She dared not fall asleep, however; the recount of her ferryman in his death throes ached at the forefront of her mind, and she shivered to herself as she remembered his pained face. After minutes of restless tossing and turning, she went to his room and knocked.
"What is wrong?" he asked her, alive and well as he opened his door wide for her.
She only sniffled and buried herself underneath the blanket of his unused bed. The sound of footsteps came to the side of her, and then his weight sunk down on the mattress. He ripped the quilted sheet off of her person rudely.
"Stop it," he ordered her. "If this is about the bounty hunter-"
She sat upright, angrily shoving him in the side. "It's about you, you fucking moron!" she snapped, and then she broke down into tears, her voice cracking. "I…I thought you died, Charon." She furiously wiped at her eyes. "It's all I can see."
The ghoul laughed a little meanly at her, and she snuffed snot up her nose and glared at him. "Do I look dead to you?"
She narrowed her eyes, unloading her own arsenal of malicious quips. "Is this a trick question?"
He gave a humored snort. "Evelyn, that is the danger we face every day. It is what we will face if we continue to Braxton."
She was about to retort something, but then snapped her jaw shut instead; she looked away with troubled thoughts.
"Tomorrow I'll go and get some supplies. I should try and get some sleep." Her voice had grown weary, and the ghoul just shook his head and muttered under his breath as she rose to retire to her own quarters.
That night she was terrorized by her fitful dreams.
Lake Capers.
The merc was grumbling to himself irritably. He had smoked so damn much from his anxious paranoia about Evelyn's wellbeing that he had run out prematurely. It was a long hike from Serrato, and the only thing that had kept him company were the radscorpions and large grooves in the dirt as he continued down their trail.
The city loomed before him; a testament to the accomplishments of mankind before they nuked the shit out of each other. It was a great post-apocalyptic stronghold; strategically surrounded by the encompassing mass of water, the only to and from the city being a working drawbridge and an underground car tunnel that connected to the mainland. As per usual when visiting, he was succumbed to questioning and a simple pat-down from Caper Force Protection, or, CFP, as they so-called themselves.
"Welcome to Lake Capers; I'm sure Chief Cooper will want to discuss some mercenary work with you, we have plenty of it lately." A single finger was held up to their sniper sentry.
The merc had pulled out his long, leather slicker in preparation for the gray clouds overhead, and was damn glad he did as the cold water began to cry from the heavens. It was a heavy burst, and anyone caught unawares was soon scrambling for appropriate shelter. A large, grey hand pulled on the hood of his trench coat, the water streaming down his forearm like a spout from a gargoyle. A clap of thunder boomed overhead; his fingers were now reaching down and turning a door handle with a twist. The sound of the rain was muffled behind him as he closed the door to the tavern, and he slicked his hood back and shook his shoulders as some icy water snaked down his spine.
"Well goddamn, ya don't got to shake like a damn dog!" a female voice chastised him. "Now, wait a goddamn sec…Cross, you slimy bastard!"
Uh-oh
"It's good to see ya!"
A warm smile presented itself, and he visibly relaxed. There was no way in hell he was about to repeat himself in this town. "Heya Ruby." He took a quick glance around the bustling barroom; no one really noticed his entrance. "Scotch. Please."
"Good choice; nasty weather like this." The raven-haired bartender reached around and grabbed at a bottle on the top shelf. With a clunk, she set it down as the merc took a seat. A married glass was slid towards his elbow. "So, what brings you round these parts Cowboy? Serrato is a done deal; don't know if ya heard…"
Cross swallowed a long draught, busily pouring himself another as he gathered his thoughts. "Just came through Serrato myself, damn shame…you wouldn't happen to know…?" He let the unfinished question hang in the air.
Ruby was setting clean glasses rim-side down on a fresh towel. "Oh yeah…only a few folks made it. Campbell's here; just saw him yesterday. He said it was bad, only reason they all made it out was thanks to some woman and her ghoul friend. Haven't met them yet."
The weight of the world finally eased itself from his tired shoulders. Thank God. "They're friends of mine; know by chance where they're stayin'?"
The rain was now a steady drizzle. The thunder was beginning to roll along the highway of the sky, and his large boots splashed through the minor flash flood that plagued the street. The glowing neon lights of Capers Hotal blinked warily. The merc stared up at the old hospital-turned-hotel with a growing sense of excitement and dread; he was unsure how to proceed from here. But, as God would have it, he didn't have much of a choice. The woman of his trepidations strode through the revolving doors; absent of her guardian and not noticing his presence to the side. The moment he had been reciting in his mind for the past few days was slipping away from him as he just stood frozen to his spot and watched her walk away; the distance between them growing as his thoughts grew blank and his feet grew cold.
The thunder rumbled, and he finally moved.
"Hey-hey!"
She visibly bristled and spun around; her hood flew free of her face. He abruptly paused and blinked down at her; there were dark circles under her eyes. Exhausted.
They both stood there under heavens shower; neither spoke a word as their eyes each roved over the other. All of his rehearsed apologies and careful words that he had been planning went out the wayside of his brain; his tongue was numb.
"What do you want?" her voice cracked. There was no anticipated fury in her eyes, just an extremely blue glimmer.
The rain continued, and now she was soaked. Her hair colored dark and it flowed around her neck and shoulders, clinging to the skin as though in fear it would wash away. He could not tell if she was crying or not; the rain was weeping for her.
For the first time, he didn't even crave a smoke.
"You," he said stupidly, his mouth speaking without him filtering first. "I-I do." He came to stand extremely close to her, their bodies only inches apart. "I haven't stopped thinkin' about you, you know…I fucked up. I did. I can't take that back."
The silence then stretched between them for what seemed like an eternity, and he was trapped in the gravity of her dying star. The cold rain beating down upon them constituted her own galaxy; when she finally spoke, it felt like a supernova point-blank to his chest.
"Is that it?"
The merc rubbed his jaw painfully, fighting away the trembling he felt in his knees. "I can only give you my word that I will never hurt you again, however much that still means to you." He began to reach a hand towards her, but then thought better of it and rubbed the heel of his palm on his forehead, the water cascading down his chin. "I…I don't deserve someone like you. I know that-it's just…" He paused, considering his thoughts. "You don't need someone like me to live your life, but, Evelyn, I fuckin' need you in mine."
The honesty hurt him as much as her indifference to his words. He had ripped his soul straight from his body and handed it to her for her viewing pleasure. "Wh-what was it you said to me? That night in Hark's Park; somethin' kiss somethin' die-"
She barked out a mean laugh and looked down; the rain gently pinpricked the backside of her neck. "It's Shakespeare; thus with a kiss, I die."
When he didn't respond, she turned up to stare at him. Those milky irises deeply navigated the depths of her ocean. He tentatively reached forward and embraced her close to himself. His body was so intensely warm, almost akin to the tinge of radiation, and she simply let herself melt into him. He was staring at her so powerfully she felt as though she might possibly faint.
When he spoke, his raspy voice was so heavily husky that it sparked an electrical storm throughout her body. "Yeah, that one."
And he kissed her as though he would.
Slam
The door to her room pounded violently against its frame as the two worked frantically at the other's attire. Wet articles of clothing were discarded in a sloppy array across the floor.
She stood there, as raw as he was; set in the clay that God had formed them from.
He guided her to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling in between her open legs. With deliberation, the mercenary brought his rough mouth to the soft skin of her inner thigh, his hands grabbing at her breasts firmly as he kissed her and then proceeded to suck on her. She breathed out pleasurably, both hands encircling around the back of his head. With a noisy plop he released her, observing the way the skin immediately bruised dark red from his affections. Moving closer up along her thigh, his hot breath tickled her as his tongue roughly drew over her soft folds down below, running up and down along her clitoris. She gasped in surprise at his technique, her body shuddering under his touch.
When he finally removed himself, he leaned back to fully view her.
"Fuck," she said thickly.
Thought you'd like that. He smirked smugly. With a turn, he sat down beside her and motioned for her to straddle him. She complied, her hair caressing his face as she maneuvered over his thighs. She was now seated on top of him, her fingers running lightly down his chest. He grunted and reached both his hands down to clutch the balls of her feet, placing the topside of them lying flat across his knees. She was now precariously balanced over his legs, and she leaned forward until her breasts were flush against his chest. They kissed passionately for a few moments, their hands exploring the valley of each other's bodies feverishly.
The stiff muscle of his member was digging into her stomach slightly, and without breaking their kiss, he reached a hand down and directed the tip of himself into her. She moaned into his mouth, but he didn't insert himself fully. Those grey hands came to find their place around her hips firmly, and he smoothly balanced the gravity of her weight. With a lift and a smack, the tip of his cock swung back out from inside until he again brought her down, only submerging the initial part of himself. It was maddening, teasing himself like that. But he knew it was just as exasperating for her, and after only a few minutes, her body was shivering and she was hotly dripping onto his thighs. Her whimpering was overly inebriating.
She reached down eagerly and grabbed at him, lowering herself all the way down his shaft. He grunted in pleasure at the sudden carnal high and he gave her a glowering look.
"Don't be so impatient," he huskily rasped, exhaling forcefully through his nostrils. "I'm callin' the shots here."
She only bit her lower lip and whimpered at him, and he tilted his head forward for a kiss. Her lips reciprocated, their tongues swathing around each other.
Now that the light teasing was ruined, he reached around and cupped her ass in each hand, lifting her body up and down in a fast, smooth motion. They broke off from their kiss and she brought her hands to cover her face, her breasts smacking against her chest as she cried out. He then slowed his tempo dramatically, grabbing a nipple with his mouth and sucking on her loudly as he ground her groin against him.
Her hands were at his shoulders, and her back was arching towards him as his rough tongue worked wonders against her areola. She was beginning to peak, and when he finally felt that overwhelming heat, he released her breast and pounded into her to finish himself. When he finally came, he buried his head in between the valley of her breasts, breathing heavily from the mind-numbing high he was riding. Slowly, his mouth traveled along her skin in search of her lips, and when they met, he gently grasped her face in his palms, running his hands through her thick hair.
He would never let go of her, ever again.
Evening had come, and he let her continue to sleep. He was seated at the table, finally enjoying a cigarette after leaving momentarily to purchase his habit.
Hell, even he was tired, after all of the physical activity between them in the hours of that afternoon. She had clearly missed at least some part of him. But that didn't matter anymore; he had successfully won himself back in her good graces, and he was going to cross his t's and dot his i's to keep it that way.
As though his thoughts had somehow disturbed her, she finally rolled over and stretched; the blanket shifted along her naked skin. She slowly came upright and mussed with her hair, tossing it over one shoulder before rising out of bed.
"Sleep well?" his gravelly voice asked.
"What sleep?" she joked, her voice drowsy.
He exhaled a stream of smoke to the side, observing her biting her bottom lip as she came to kneel before him in between his legs. She placed her head on his thigh, and her hands were roaming around his waist under his jacket.
Well, that's a nice change.
Suddenly, she tasked herself with undressing his lower half, and he set his cigarette to the side as he helped her with shifting out of his jeans. Before he could fully remove them, she had her mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock and her tongue was thrashing firmly over it. She was artfully bobbing her head up and down as she gagged on him, and his fingers dug themselves inside her hair as he watched her have her way with himself. It was only a few minutes until he came inside her mouth, and she swallowed him down as her tongue swirled around the tip. He groaned, his hot breath washing down her neck as she kept at him, and he had to pull her off before he felt like he would pass out from the intensity. There was a plop as his dick left her wet lips, and she appeared extremely smug.
"Jesus," he breathed out, his body lightly shaking as his orgasm began to ebb away.
"I don't think he would approve," she teased, taking her hand and shoving his head to the side playfully. "You can make it up to me later."
She then left him alone and went inside the bathroom, shutting the door behind herself; the sound of the shower turned on. He redressed and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand; a fingertip grazed his cigarette as there was a knock at the door. The merc left his habit at the table as he answered the summons.
It was déjà vu- the ferryman was towering before him. Both men stared at each other passively. Without any warning, Charon snatched Cross by the collar of his leather jacket, hoisting him off his feet and slamming him into the wall in the hallway.
"Get off me, you bastard!" Cross snarled, his strong hands coming up and gripping at Charon's wrists.
Heavy, reinforced steel-toe boots launched themselves at Charon's body, but it was like kicking stone. The bounty hunter grunted as he continued his attack, his hands working on releasing Charon's iron grip.
Something snapped in the ferryman's brain, and he simply dropped the merc at his feet. The grey ghoul fumbled to the side to regain his balance, and an uppercut planted itself directly in his face. Cross hit the floor with a thud; there was a scream down the corridor. The merc sluggishly blinked; he quickly rolled away to the side, narrowly avoiding Charon's massive boot coming down on his skull.
The merc already had his hands fumbling inside of his jacket as he sat upright against the wall, struggling to the side. A small body flew over him; Evelyn's wet hair slapped against his face as she protectively laid across him. Her overly large, gray shirt began to hitch up her thighs as she leaned back into him.
The ferryman instantly froze; his fists came down to his sides and his eyes were aflame to kill. "Move," he commanded.
Evelyn shook her head, her breathing heavy. "No."
"Evelyn, move."
"No."
Charon gave her a weird look, and then he snorted and rubbed at his eyes. "This…you cannot be serious."
Evelyn darted her gaze down the hallway; a few others were watching their drama unfold with curious intent from within the safety of their doorways. Her eyes snapped back to the incredulous bodyguard. "I'll come and talk to you."
He was working his jaw angrily. "As you wish." He then stalked down the hall; the guests shrunk back inside their rooms as he passed.
The sound of his door slamming reverberated back to them; Evelyn released a shuddering sigh and melted her head back into the merc's chest.
Cross couldn't help but think back to their first intimate encounter; the parade of buffout bottles from the rusted safe, and her standoff as she had protected the ferryman from his homicidal intent. There was a vibration beneath her, and she bounced lightly as he laughed aloud. Ignoring the peeping eyes and his pounding skull, the ghoul wrapped his arms around her tightly and kissed the damp skin of her neck.
Things were back to normal, after all.
