Chapter Five: Word Ownership

Bane listened as the sound of the departing sedan disappeared. He looked down at Helena's passed out face as her father was closer to death each passing mile over emergency medical interventional salvation.

He scrutinized her face with every step up the stairs, not seeing the presence of Talia's hatred or invisible ugliness in her features.

Bane nudged open her bedroom door and carried her across the threshold of her room. He first noticed her neatly made bed, the queen-sized bed adorned with a fluffy pastel bedspread. The furniture was a light oaken hue that he walked by as he settled her on the side of the mattress closest to the door.

Helena moaned in his arms and pushed weakly at his chest as he adjusted the pillow behind her head.

She rolled away from him as he let his eyes wander the room, absorbing every detail. His eyes fell on a trio of photographs next to the bed in matching multi-sized frames.

The first was a photo of a young Howard and Sylvia holding an infant Helena.

The second photo featured Howard, Sylvia, and Helena at an Easter Egg hunt. Helena couldn't have been more than ten and her stark white Easter outfit and stockings were already stained with candy as she gave the camera a cheesy, sweet smile.

Bane let his eyes rest on the last picture of Howard and Helena. It was an enlarged photo of the one from the downstairs mantle. He could read the recent Microbiology Doctorate she was holding in the photo.

His eyes lingered on Howard's proud, tired face. "I could only save one of you," he thought as he gently laid his hand on her upper arm. He pulled his hand back when she flinched and moaned under his gentle touch.

Bane stood up, the mattress squeaking with the relief of his muscular mass.

He lifted the various bottles of perfumes and lotions on top of her dresser and wound his fingers through the hairs snagged in the plastic bristles of her comb.

His eyes traveled to the top of her desk and an open lined notebook; the pages filled with her cramped writing.

Bane scanned the pages, devouring her words and doodles in the margins as she began to stir.

He glanced over his shoulder to ensure she was still turned away as he read the most recent writings. There was no date and nothing else on the lined page except several sentences. Bane kept reading and rereading her words, a shift occurring inside him down to the marrow inside of his bones and the viscous fluid surrounding his sturdy joints.

Dad doesn't have awfully long, how do I begin to live on my own? Should I just set aside my own needs and wants to not be alone? Is Jen right? She's always told you you're going to end up alone and now it's assured. She said half the time she feels like her and Keith are roommates but at least she's not alone. When do I stop thinking anyone will hear me, see me?

He was so immersed in her words and scribbled evisceration of emotions that he failed to hear the sound of her breathing change and didn't know she was awake until she spoke to his back.

"Those words aren't for you to read," she said before giving a dry cough.

Bane paused; he closed her notebook before he turned towards her. "I could prove everything you wrote untrue, anything you are afraid of, I will squash. I will destroy anything that makes you cry and burn the world down to find anything you're missing."

"Don't say things like to me," she mumbled and slid off the bed. He began to move away from the desk to intercept her. "I just need to use the bathroom," she said as she started to raise her hands.

Bane didn't let her move away from him as he reached out and caught her wrist with lightning speed precision.

"What am I saying?" he said and squeezed her small wrist in his powerful grip.

"You know what you're saying," Helena said as she tried to tug her wrist free.

"Tell me," he demanded before he immediately tried to smooth his features and lessened the pressure of his grip.

"I don't have to tell you or that crazy bitch anything," she hissed and stumbled sideways when he suddenly released his hold on her.

Helena sniffed hard and struggled to not slam the door behind her.

She used the bathroom quickly, surprised at how full she had let her bladder become. After she washed her hands, she took a doubletake at her smudged makeup and messy hair.

She squatted and rooted around under the sink.

Helena nearly squealed and dropped the bottle of bright blue astringent and wood-handled brush when the door was suddenly pulled open, and he was looming over her from the doorway.

She stood slowly with the cosmetic implements and stayed rooted to the spot, caught in the dreaded spot between fight and flight.

Freeze.

"You don't need to stop what you're doing," he murmured.

"Can you shut the door…. Please? she managed.

"Of course," he said and casually stepped closer and shut the door behind him.

"You know that's not what I meant," she said and struggled to not try and pathetically get past him.

"I haven't had the chance to look around this room for anything yet."

"Well, I don't have some kind of secret phone under the sink," she snapped.

Bane smiled, the small movement transformed his features and she felt a buzz in her skull as new neural pathways were formed and his eyes seemed to see inside of her and could freehand the design of her central nervous system in permanent ink.

He crossed his arms over his muscular chest as he leaned back against the closed door.

"Please continue," he said easily.

Helena pressed her lips together and forced herself to turn around and face the wide mirror, speckled with the spray of toothpaste from the electronic toothbrush.

She set down the brush and took a deep breath as she soaked a cotton ball and cleaned up her smeared mascara.

Helena stared at him in the mirror after she had cleaned up her face and looked somewhat more from the land of the living. He held her gaze before dropping his gaze to her unused hairbrush and up at the messy mass her hair had become. Her bun which had started off stylishly messy now looked like an actual bird might come and lay an egg with a smaller bird inside of it.

"Continue," he said with a casual tone but a lot more weight to his words.

Helena tugged at her cotton hair band and avoided his eyes in the mirror.

Bane felt his breath catch and pressed his lips together as her hair tumbled down to settle at her waist, the ends teasing the top of her back pocket.

Helena ran the wood-handled brush from the crown of her head to the very ends of her hair as he was suddenly more aware of how little space was between them than she did.

He wanted to rip the brush from her hand and use his fingers to comb the silken fall of her hair.

As Bane nearly salivated as he continued watching Helena brush her hair, each minute that passed, Talia moved further away with Ryan, Chris, and the dying professor Lang.

"He looks bad," Chris said from the back seat as Howard began to cough wetly.

"Fuck," Talia spit and looked over at Ryan. "Find a safe enough place to pull over. I got to get answers out of that bag of skin cells before he croaks."

Talia pawed through Howard's pocket and pulled out his leather wallet and nearly screamed to see it just contained a library card and his state identification card which was two months away from expiring.

"What's your social security number Howie? What's your date of birth professor?" Talia shouted over the seat at Howard as he began to go into full cardiac arrest.

Talia gave a feral growl and climbed over the seat and straddled Howard's dying, gesticulating body.

"What is the pin number to your goddamn bank account?" she shrieked as she pounded Howard's chest that housed his heart ready to perform its final death throes as it had had enough.

Howard gurgled a sound that sounded like "Sylvia," before he stopped living.

Talia punched the ceiling of the sedan. "Keep driving," she said to Ryan. "We need to find some far-out field, anywhere to dig," she added as she crawled back over the seat to the leather passenger seat.

As Talia secured her seatbelt into place, back in the bathroom at the home that now belonged to Helena alone, Bane watched her set the brush back on the cluttered counter and reach for a plastic claw clip.

He spoke before he was consciously ready.

"Stop."

Helena paused as she wound her hair up in a bun as he remained silent.

"What?" she finally asked, him a muscular mute.

Bane found he couldn't speak, his emotions trussed him up and open like a deer and exposed him stem to stern.

"I want you to give me what I could easily take," he thought as he bored his eyes into hers. He couldn't say those words, he couldn't say anything.

Helena watched in slow-motion as he pushed away from the door and came to stand behind her. Their bodies barely brushed against each other.

She held her breath as he pulled the claw clip from her right hand and pulled her left hand free of her bundled hair.

Bane joined her in holding his own breath as he ran his rough-skinned fingertips through her hair. Her silken strands snagged on the rough skin of his knuckles and cuticles.

He watched in the mirror as her hair flowed down the front of her shirt, the strands curving around her cashmere sweater covered breasts.

"Where is she taking my father?" Helena murmured as she met his eyes in the mirror.

He held her gaze as he brushed her hair away from her neck before speaking.

"I honestly do not know."

Helena closed her eyes and dropped her head as a wave of nausea washed over her.

"So, what's the plan now?" she asked as she stared down at the drain.

"It's now come down to time-sensitive task assignments."

"And what's your task?"

"To get the needed financial information."

"And what's the time sensitivity for that?" she breathlessly managed as she raised her eyes and met his reflected eyes.

"Before she returns," he stated as he closed the breath of space between their bodies.

"When is that?"

"In six hours," Bane said tonelessly as he lowered his face to the curve of her neck.

"What does she expect when she returns?"

"Complete financial access and cooperation."

"Will she kill me regardless of what I do?"

Bane slipped one arm around her waist and molded himself against her as he pressed his lips over the rapidly pounding pulse in her neck.

"If it were up to her, then yes," he said as he raised his lips, inhaling her warm scent deep into his lungs.

"What does that mean?" she gasped as his hand spanned her belly, his thumb resting over her sternum.

"It means tell me that you'll let me earn your heart," he murmured and slid his free hand to gather up her hair. Bane pressed his face in the floral scented strands and inhaled deeply before he spoke.

"I'll keep you safe," he groaned as he returned his face to her fall of hair.

Helena gave a startled flinch when she felt him grow hard against the curve of her bottom.

"We can take small steps," he groaned as he gathered her hair into his fist and pulled until she was gasping and standing on her tiptoes as he added.

"Just tell me that you'll eventually give yourself to me," he commanded on a growl that obscured his naked vulnerability.

Bane smoothed his hand down her belly and fumbled at her zipper.

"Don't do that," Helena managed and tried uselessly to shift away from him.

"Okay, Shhh," he murmured until she could begin to corral her rapid breathing and stared back at him in the mirror. As soon as he knew he had her full attention he stilled his hand on her zipper and continued.

"Please," he repeated on a husky whisper as he fell into her reflected eyes, searching in vain for just a glimpse of a potential promise. A flash, a spark he could create hope from.

"I need you," he thought and fought to keep excited relief from filling his face when she blinked rapidly a few times and nodded slightly.

Helena cleared her throat, not trusting her voice as she began to speak. "Can you ….. can you make me a promise?"

"Yes, anything," he said rapidly, pouncing on her words a breath after she had spoken them.

"Promise me you won't hurt me," she said quickly, fighting to hold his reflected eye contact.

"I will never handle you roughly again," he murmured as he dropped his hands to her hips and urged her to turn around.

Helena reluctantly complied and struggled to not flinch as he cupped her jaw and traced the pad of his thumb over her lower lip as he added. "Why don't you take whatever time you need in here and then please come back and talk to me."

As Helena nodded and Bane left her alone, hating to move away from her, Ryan continued to drive the backroads, waiting until the sedan's GPS lost its signal and then look for a place for an impromptu grave.

Talia clencher her teeth until her jaw popped and dialed Bane's burner phone while she still had a decent signal.

He answered on the second ring and she was speaking the moment the call connected.

"The whore's father is dead; we're going to go put him in the ground. I might be home a little earlier. I called the bank and they're open until five and she needs two forms of ID with the vault key."

Back in Helena's bedroom, Bane nodded. "I will have her itemize everything as you asked. She will be dressed and ready to go when you arrive."

Talia sat up straighter, her ego inflating so fast that if the sedan was a convertible, she would've risen like a hot-air balloon.

"She can't appear too rattled when we go to the bank," Talia cautioned and listened as Bane chuckled.

"You're not going to be able to see where I've touched her when she's wearing clothes."

"I harbor nothing for that whore, but I can't risk you injuring her," Talia started before Bane interrupted her with a tone that was part early man and all raw wet sex that made her jealous, afraid, and envious in a split-second.

"Let me clarify, I'm going to fuck her just hard enough to get off, she'll be able to walk and talk just fine."

"But, I don't think that's necessary," Talia stammered as Bane's tone bled to a tone reserved for the near-dead.

"You want answers and I want to see what her face looks like as I make her come," Bane said on an empty murmur as he added. "I'll see you at two pm," he said as he ended the call.

Talia stared down at the phone, anger transitioned to nausea and she felt breakfast call up her throat. She squeezed her eyes shut as she thought of Bane's hands touching that whore.

Talia looked over at Ryan. "Hurry up, we have to get him in the ground and get back."

Ryan pressed the accelerator to the floor.

Every passing second, Talia imagined Bane in worsening scenarios with the illegitimate whore.