So I had originally intended to post one final chapter to this fic, but it wound up being much longer than I anticipated, so I decided to break it up into two parts instead. So I hope you will enjoy this chapter for now and not be too disappointed that you'll have to wait just a bit longer for the final part. :)
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What a wicked game to play
To make me feel this way
What a wicked thing to do
To let me dream of you…
~Chris Isaak~
Chapter 4
The light from the monitor flickered eerily on the wall above the bed, animating a wide swath of shadow with its sickly glow. Beneath the faint iridescence, Sophie lay curled under the covers, her arms wrapped tight around one lone pillow as she gazed fixatedly at the laptop next to her on the bed. By now, the images that flashed across the screen were more than familiar to her, although that didn't necessarily make them any easier to watch. But still, they captivated her full attention, providing a measure of odd comfort despite the distressing nature of their origin.
She'd lost count of how many times she'd watched the unsettling footage since she'd first given in weeks ago, during a pathetic moment of alcohol-induced weakness. After a parade of endless nights when neither sleep nor peace would come, she'd huddled in bed, surrounded by suffocating darkness, and listened to the sounds of the house as it seemed to come to life around her, popping and creaking and moaning as it shifted and settled on its aging foundation. And at some point, deep in her subconscious, she realized she was searching for something much more concrete within those lonesome, hollow sounds. She was listening for an imminent sign of his approach. She was waiting for him to come for her once again.
The realization had unsettled her immensely, as had the unwelcome emotions that had come along with it. Not because of her fear of the man, but rather that the prospect of another visit from him was not as unpleasant as it should have been.
She supposed that her retrieval of the video from its hiding place in the top of the closet had been a wayward attempt at soothing her frayed nerves. If she forced herself to remember what he had done to her, if she reminded herself of the torment he'd put her through and how easily he had tossed her aside when he was done, surely that would be enough to dispel the misplaced feelings that seemed to haunt her every thought. Or, at least, she told herself that had been her intention. But instead, it had only complicated the matter, adding to her anxiety as she found her expectations overshadowed by the surprises that the footage had revealed.
She'd struggled through the first part of the recording, the shame and embarrassment all too fresh as she observed the sight of herself so intimately entwined with a man she did not know. She relived every kiss, every touch, every moment that she'd spent with him, unprepared for the feelings of emptiness and longing that the images stirred within her. And yet, the hurt and the fear that she had hoped would resolve her foolish conflict was nowhere to be found. Somehow, in the midst of all the mental chaos, they had simply vanished, along with whatever small vestige of rationality that might have remained.
As the vision of their union had drawn to a close, Sophie had almost ended the recording, certain that it was nearly over, but the unanswered questions that nagged at the back of her mind gave her pause. She was curious to know what had happened during the time she'd been unconscious and to see what liberties he might have taken before he'd vanished into the night. But as she'd watched the unfamiliar scene unfold before her, it didn't take long for her to be thrown into complete turmoil, her confusion multiplied as she surveyed the big man's actions upon the screen.
She had watched, slightly awed, at the ease with which he'd flipped them both over, remembering how her body had settled so comfortably against his own on the crowded sofa. She saw herself fall asleep in his arms, all the while mentally berating herself for putting herself in a position where she was so defenseless. He could have done anything he wanted, harmed her in any way that he liked, and there was nothing she could have done to stop him. But instead, she observed with rapt attention as he watched her sleep peacefully in his embrace, one hand stroking her hair, her face, her back, while the fingers of his second hand entwined carefully with hers as they lay splayed across his chest. They were such intimate gestures, so unexpected given his fierce personality, that she simply wasn't quite sure what to make of it all.
But what had surprised her most wasn't his moment of thoughtful consideration or his rare display of compassion, but rather the length of time he had stayed with her before he'd slipped away. In the back of her mind, she'd always been so certain that he'd left quickly after the deed was done, eager to be far away from the scene as soon as he possibly could. But instead, he'd seemed almost reluctant to leave her side, a look of smug satisfaction gracing his face as he dozed contentedly next to her.
As Sophie skimmed through the footage one more time, she stopped at the exact spot where he eased himself from under her and slid from the couch. She watched as he adjusted the quilt, pulling it closer around her shoulders to keep her warm, then brushed a strand of hair from her face before he even bothered to dress himself, all the while never taking his eyes off of her sleeping form. Fully clothed, he lingered beside the sofa before reluctantly turning his attention to the television across the room. Moments later, the screen went dark as he turned off the recorder, and she was left only able to wonder what else he might have done in the time between that moment and when he'd finally gone.
With a sigh, Sophie shut the laptop down, thrusting the room into complete darkness, although the images in her mind could not be so easily extinguished. Even after watching the same scene over and over again, his show of tenderness still surprised her. She wondered if that had been his reasoning behind leaving the video in her possession. Given his intimidating presence, how else would he be able to convince her that she had nothing to fear? In reality, the picture on the screen had offered her more reassurance than his words ever could.
Placing the laptop in the floor, she buried deeper into the covers, sleep still evading her despite the late hour. She tossed and turned, her mind still alight with unanswered questions as her gaze fixated on the clock beside the bed, the minutes ticking by with agonizing slowness. Finally, she tossed back the covers in frustration and stormed to the bathroom to retrieve a cup of water. Returning to the bed, she clicked on the lamp and jerked open the drawer to the nightstand, rummaging through the contents until she found the new box of sleeping pills she'd purchased. Taking two, she downed them with the water, then tossed the box back into the drawer. As though taunting her, her eyes fell on the business card that she'd carefully tucked away some weeks earlier and she snatched it up, studying it with interest as she reclined back on the bed.
It was the only clue she had, yet it seemed impossible that it might be meaningful enough to help. She switched off the lamp and closed her eyes, her fingers rubbing along the worn surface of the paper as she considered what few options she had. To her disappointment, none of them seemed to offer a very practical, or rational, solution. Disheartened, she let her mind drift instead, recalling the image of herself held so tight in his embrace as she slumbered peacefully beside him. The thought soothed her as the pills began to take effect, and before long, she was finally asleep, the business card still clasped tightly in her hand as memories gave way to dreams.
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In the dimming light of the evening, Sophie found herself on the street outside the tattoo shop, as she stared up at the sign on the side of the old building, which indicated she'd found the place she'd been looking for.
She pulled the business card from her pocket and studied it for a moment, then glanced back up at the sign. A quick internet search was all that it had required to obtain the address, but it had taken her considerably longer to decide what to do with the information. Even now, she wasn't confident in her decision to come here. She wasn't sure what she expected to gain. Certainly, it was a long shot that anyone here would be able to help her anyway. But, if the big man had in fact been a patron of this establishment, with his unique size and look, she supposed it was possible that someone might happen to remember him.
After some last minute debating, she opened the door to the shop and hesitantly stepped inside, immediately garnering the attention of the four occupants who were gathered together around one mirrored workspace. The older man - who she assumed was Tool, given he was the one with the tattoo gun in his hand- was working on a design on a second man's shoulder, while two onlookers stood propped against a nearby wall, watching with interest.
"Can I help you darlin'?" the older man inquired, pausing long enough to give her a good once over.
Unintimidated, Sophie drew closer, as she studied each of the men in turn. "Possibly. I'm, um, looking for someone."
"A man." she added as an afterthought, taking note of the suspicious looks that passed between them.
With a hearty chuckle, Tool returned to his work. "Of course you are, doll. Well, look no longer. You found me!"
The other three men responded with snickers of laughter, and Sophie found herself grinning along with them.
"Well, I'm looking for somebody a little taller. Quite a bit taller, actually. I don't have a name, but he's a hard guy to miss. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. He has a scar on his right cheek."
The four men exchanged confused looks, instantly growing wary. Tool gave another cautious smile and shook his head.
"Gunnar?" he questioned. "Well, don't that just figure…."
"So…you know him then?" Sophie asked in surprise, grateful to finally have a name to go on. "Can you tell me where I might be able to find him?"
Pausing again, Tool studied her for a long moment, as he debated whether there was any way she could be construed as a potential threat. He found himself cursing the Swede's good fortune as he finally motioned toward a doorway near the back of the shop.
"Through that door there. There's a path cleared out between the equipment. Follow it toward the back of the building. You'll find him back there, somewhere."
Shocked, Sophie stared at him momentarily before her gaze shifted toward the door. She suddenly felt filled with doubt, uncertain as to how she should proceed. She'd only come searching for information. She certainly hadn't expected to stumble across the man in the first place she looked.
Noticing that the men were still watching her with extreme interest, she reluctantly crossed the room toward the door, reminding herself with each step that this was likely the most foolish thing she'd ever done in her life. Confronting such a dangerous man on his own territory? It didn't get much riskier than that.
"Oh, darlin'" Tool called after her, which caused her to stop and turn around. "I should probably warn you..."
With a hand, Sophie politely waved him off.
"I already know." she replied, reaching for the door. "Believe me, I already know."
Stepping into the larger space, Sophie closed the door behind her as she took a moment to glance around, stunned by the vast quantity of equipment that surrounded her. In the dim light, she couldn't make much sense from the odd accumulation of parts, but thankfully, she could easily discern the path that Tool had instructed her to take.
Her footsteps seemed to echo loudly throughout the large warehouse, but the sound was nothing compared to the furious beating of her heart as she realized what she about to do. Slowing her pace, she contemplated what she was supposed to say to the man when she found him. Given their current track record, 'hello' seemed like a rather understated greeting to use.
Picking up the slight murmur of a radio or television, Sophie paused a moment as she tried to pinpoint the exact location of the sound. Keeping to the same path, she eventually found herself standing in the doorway of another room, this one obviously arranged as some kind of hangout or meeting place for whatever occupants the building might hold. A couple of well-used sofas had been shoved up against two of the walls to form a right angle with each other, providing a generous amount of seating space. Old tables flanked one end of each couch, with a third positioned in the middle of the floor, apparently as some kind of foot rest. An old refrigerator had been tucked away in one dusty corner, beside another table and a pair of mismatched wooden chairs. On the opposite wall hung a large flat-screen television, the only object in the room that looked even remotely new, and which currently projected a mixture of sports highlights from the day's events. And reclining on one of the sofas, his attention fixated on the screen in front of him, was the man she'd come to find.
Shocked by the sight of him, she stifled a gasp as Gunnar turned his head toward her, giving her a full view of the damage that he had endured. His face was battered and bruised, stitches marring the skin above his left eye, two additional cuts gracing the surface of his right check, just below his existing scar. A fading bruise covered part of the exposed skin of his neck, another one appearing on the opposite forearm beneath a rolled up sleeve. He was currently dressed in his typical ensemble of jeans, t-shirt and a flannel shirt, which covered the majority of his body, but given the blemishes on the patches of skin she could see, Sophie imagined that the rest of him had likely sustained similar damage. But what disturbed her the most wasn't the brutal nature of his injuries, or the vicious rage reflected in his eyes, but rather the unlikely presence of a second person, who was currently seated close beside him on the couch.
Sophie surveyed the woman with the same rapt attention she'd given to Gunnar, taking stock of the worn-out blonde who was dressed in a revealing top and shirt skirt, and who eyed Sophie suspiciously before glancing at the man beside of her. Not one normally prone to fits of jealously, Sophie was suddenly struck with the urge to pounce on the woman and claw at her until she ran screaming from the room. The sharp sting of the unexpected emotion made her take pause, and she remained silent as Gunnar took a sip from the bottle in his hand, his gaze never wavering from her's as he did so.
That drink had obviously not been the first of the evening, given the vast number of empty bottles that decorated part of one table and the floor around it. But even so, his movements were steady, the look in his eyes as clear and cold and dangerous as ever, as he challenged her with the intensity of his stare.
"So, the Princess decided to grace us with her presence." he murmured coolly, finishing off his beer as he turned his attention back to the television. Wounded by his callous show of disinterest, Sophie regarded the woman beside him as she felt the painful ache of rejection twist through her stomach.
"Get me another one." Gunnar demanded crudely, handing off the empty bottle to the blonde next to him without even a glance.
The woman shook her head as she placed it on the table beside the others. "That was the last one."
Something was wrong. Sophie could see that plainly now as her initial shock began to wear off, the tension evident in the large man's every movement. His fists in his lap, she could see them clenching uncontrollably in the absence of something tangible to hold, the same stiffness visible in his jaw and along his spine, as he silently displayed his irritation. He seemed restless and ill-tempered, bordering on the edge of instability as he struggled with his unmistakable anger, which appeared to be just barely restrained. It struck her that, for the first time, she was seeing him in his real environment, harsh and cruel, and it disturbed her to see how befitting his personality was to the empty coldness of the space, such a stark comparison to the warmth and compassion that he'd held for her not so long ago.
Abruptly, he stood from the couch, and Sophie jumped slightly, although she managed to hold her ground as he stalked toward her, keeping her gaze firmly fixed on him. He stopped before her, towering over her as he stared down in silent contemplation, leaving her dizzy with emotion as she recalled what had happened the last time they'd been in such a situation. She was stricken with the desire to reach out and touch him, as though the caress might somehow calm the raging fire that simmered just below the surface. But despite the tempting thought, she stayed her movement, uncertain how he might react to such daring behavior, given the current unstable nature of his temperament. Surprisingly, she was rewarded with one of his arrogant smirks, as though he'd deciphered every thought she'd just had. Then, without a sound, he stepped around her and walked away into the darkened shadows of the warehouse.
"Where are you going?"
Watching him depart, Sophie was startled by the voice of the other woman as she called after his retreating form. He murmured something unintelligible in response, then disappeared, leaving the two women alone together in the room. With a sigh, the blonde flicked off the tv and approached Sophie.
"Come on. We better keep an eye on him. Make sure he stays out of trouble." she stated, rolling her eyes as she headed in the same direction Gunnar had gone.
Wondering what she'd just stumbled into, Sophie gave a last glance about the room before reluctantly following the other two occupants through the warehouse. They exited the structure through a different door, this one on the side of the large building, stepping out onto a narrow side street that was flanked on both sides by the towering walls of neighboring businesses. At this particular time of evening, the street was fairly deserted and Sophie glanced in both directions, frowning when she saw no sign of Gunnar.
"This way." The blonde motioned over her shoulder, leading them around the corner until they were on the main street again.
"I'm Roxanne, by the way. Most people just call me Rox." the blonde offered with a smile, as they approached the main entrance to Tool's shop. Sophie found herself staring up at the sign again as they passed.
"Sophie." she offered absentmindedly, her eyes scanning the street in front of her for Gunnar's towering form.
Rox paused beside her, grabbing her arm. "You're Sophie?"
Jolted from her quiet reverie by the sudden contact, Sophie nodded hesitantly.
"He talked about you." Rox paused for a moment, as though trying to remember the conversation. "Yeah. He talked about you a lot." She gave a casual shrug of her shoulders. "Well, what do you know? I was beginning to think the goofy bastard was hallucinating."
Looping her arm around the other woman's, Rox pulled Sophie along with her as she continued down the street.
"This could be a good thing, you know." she suggested. "Maybe you can do something with him before he fucking kills somebody."
She released Sophie's arm as she pointed toward their left. "Here we are."
The bar was tucked away in the middle of a long row of aging buildings, with a plain unlit sign above the door. With no hesitation, the blonde pushed it open and stepped inside, and Sophie entered behind her, unable to stop herself from wondering how many times the woman had accompanied Gunnar to this place before.
Annoyed, she pushed the thought aside as she surveyed the interior of the aging establishment, recognizing within an instant that this place was nothing like the ones she frequently patronized. The whole atmosphere was darker here, as was the clientele, what few patrons there were at this early hour all rivaling Gunnar's fierce impression. The furnishings were old and obviously well-used, the walls crudely decorated with a random array of neon signs, old photographs, and framed sports posters, most of them faded and worn. The entire space was heavily permeated with the smell of grease and stale beer, the dim lighting masked even further by the lingering haze of cigarette smoke.
Giving a cursory glance around the rest of the room, Sophie felt a small measure of relief when she spotted Gunnar sitting alone at a table in the back corner, already nursing another beer. Their eyes met for a brief moment before she was pulled away by Rox, who surprised her by leading her to a separate table on the other side of the bar. Sophie avoided looking at the few men who were scattered about as she crossed the room, although she could feel the weight of their stares on her back as she passed them by. But she felt somewhat reassured by the fact that one pair of those eyes belonged to the big man in the corner. She doubted that she would have many problems with the other patrons as long as he was around.
They each took a seat and as Rox called out a drink order to the bartender, Sophie took the opportunity to study her a little closer. As much as she hated to admit it, she found her to be a fairly attractive woman, or at least, she had been once, before time and circumstance had taken their toll. Her build was slightly smaller than her own, but she was certainly not what Sophie would consider to be frail. There was a rough edge to her exterior, one that suggested she'd seen her share of tough times and she hadn't been afraid to fight through whatever she'd had to face. But despite the woman's outward appearance, she seemed to have a rather pleasant and friendly demeanor, undefeated by the tough hand of life that she'd obviously been dealt. Despite her initial reaction, Sophie found she was having a difficult time maintaining her dislike for the woman, although she was stricken with another surge of jealousy as she considered which of her pleasing traits had been desirable enough to capture Gunnar's obvious interest.
The drink order placed, Rox turned her attention back to her companion, and Sophie evaded her gaze quickly, embarrassed at having been caught in the middle of her examination. Unaffected by the scrutiny, the other woman smiled at her from across the table, as she plucked a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her purse.
"So, are you two...?" Sophie finally asked, uncertain how to finish the question as she broke the uneasy silence.
The blonde laughed quietly. "No. More like...an acquaintance."
Sophie felt the urge to question just how well they'd been acquainted but held her tongue.
"You?" Rox inquired.
Sophie shrugged. "Same."
She would have preferred the use of a different term, but nothing else she could think of seemed to fit the unusual circumstances. Her gaze followed the other woman as she sauntered to the bar to collect their drinks.
"So, how long have you two been...acquainted?" Sophie pressed when she returned, taking a sip from the glass that had been placed in front of her.
"About a week. Met him here, actually." Rox swiveled in her seat, one elbow propped on the back of the chair as she lit a cigarette and took a long draw, blowing the smoke out slowly. "I haven't been in town long. I like to travel a lot. See the world. Meet new people. It's one of the perks of not having any responsibilities."
She paused long enough to take a drink of her own.
"Anyway, I was here a few nights ago and there was some jerk making an ass of himself, harassing me and stuff. I could've handled him myself, but the big guy over there, he must've overheard him, cause he stepped in and put the guy back in line pretty quick." She took another puff on the cigarette, the faintest trace of a smile gracing her lips. "So, I bought him a drink to say thanks and we wound up just sitting and talking for a while. Well, I did most of the talking anyway. But he listened. Seems like a decent enough guy. A little crazy though, if you ask me."
Sophie smiled faintly. "You could say that."
"So, what's the deal with you two, anyway?" Rox questioned, as her eyes darted past Sophie to the man in the corner. Sophie watched as her lips pulled together in a frown.
"It's a long story."
"Look's like it's gonna be a long night." the other woman offered.
Sophie shook her head. "Thanks, but...it's kind of complicated."
Rox chuckled. "Usually is."
And it just got even more so, Sophie thought to herself, as she contemplated the strange situation she suddenly found herself in. The fact that she hadn't already fled the scene in the interest of self-preservation left her questioning the current state of her own sanity.
"You said he talked about me." Sophie stated, remembering Rox's earlier words. "Why?"
Rox considered her question a moment, then sighed. "It was kind of odd. He mentioned your name several times in conversation. But he didn't go into a lot of detail." She finished off her cigarette and stubbed it out.
"He's a hard guy to read." she continued. "I don't know what's going on between you two, so my opinion probably doesn't count for much, but I think he's got something on his mind. Maybe a few regrets or something?"
The remark was posed more as a question than a statement, and Sophie had to smile at the other woman's persistence in trying to get to the root of the issue. Regardless, she seemed to accept Sophie's silence easily enough as she processed the information that she'd acquired. Sophie couldn't deny that her curiosity had been aroused, but she refrained from pressing for further details. Despite all of the unanswered questions she still had, it felt wrong somehow to procure such intimate thoughts through another source. If she'd learned anything at all from their brief time together, it was that Gunnar appeared to be a very private man. And while the reasoning behind his secrecy was still confusing, she was at least willing to respect his decision. After all, if there was something that he'd wanted her to know, surely he would have offered the knowledge to her himself.
Recalling the extent of his injuries, Sophie frowned, unable to stop herself from voicing one last question. "So, what happened to him exactly?"
"He's got a temper. That's what happened." Rox shrugged. "I don't know what he was like before, but he's been like this the whole time I've been around. From what I can gather, I think it had something to do with his job. There must have been some kind of accident or something. Whatever it was, it must have really set him off. And I think it just kind of went downhill from there. He just keeps drinking himself stupid. Picking fights with everybody. He's got a smart mouth and a short fuse and that's a bad combination. And he's not shy about letting somebody know if they've pissed him off. I've lost track of how many altercations he's been in just within the past week. He got jumped a couple of nights ago. Two assholes thought they could team up and get one over on him. They got in a couple of good hits but it didn't take 'em long to figure out they'd made a bad mistake. He took 'em both down pretty hard."
Rox paused, shuddering as she remembered what she'd seen. "I don't know where the guy came from, or where he got his experience, but I can tell you that I've seen enough to know I don't want to do anything to get on his bad side."
Sophie nodded in acknowledgment, remembering all too well how threatened and intimidated she'd felt both times he'd cornered her. She already knew he was not a man to be crossed. Still, she couldn't deny her concern over his current state of mind and she resisted the urge to give him an inquisitive glance over her shoulder, wondering if perhaps his job wasn't the only reason for his foul mood.
Across the room, Gunnar motioned for another beer as he watched the two women conversing on the other side of the bar. He was slightly amused to see that they appeared to be getting along so well, considering the spark of jealousy he'd observed from Sophie upon her arrival. Or perhaps, that had been only wishful thinking on his part. After all, he wasn't exactly the type of guy to have women beating down doors, or each other, to get to him. Still, even though he'd managed to hide his bewilderment behind a stern mask of indifference, he was curious to know how Sophie had found him and why she had come. Considering the things he'd done to her, he couldn't imagine why she'd ever want to be anywhere near him again. Or, perhaps he could. But that did little to soothe his conscious, given that reason was the source of his raging fury.
He was thankful for the disastrous mission. Although they had been sold out by a traitorous employer and both he and his teammates had nearly been killed in the aftermath, it at least offered an ideal explanation for his sudden shift in self-destructive behavior. His group had survived, but it had been a close call. The closest he could remember from recent history. And there was nothing like being faced with your own mortality to provide you with a painful introspect of the pathetic life that was in danger of being left behind. And, given his past, he had strong reason to believe that his was likely more painful than most.
From the moment they had escaped into the air above the godforsaken countryside that had nearly defeated them, until the gratifying moment when his feet had touched the sweet, solid ground of home, his every thought had been of Sophie. Her silent strength. Her haunting gaze. Her reassuring touch. He could go to her and she would make him whole again, bring his broken body back to life. She would make him forget about everything else, if only for a little while. But, much to his concern, he'd realized that, at some point, 'a little while' had turned into 'not long enough'.
He wanted her for his own. Not just for an hour or two. Not just for one night. He wanted more. He wanted everything that she had to give. He would greedily devour it all, without remorse, with no regard for the consequence. And in the end, it would be he who would lead to her downfall, consuming her soul and crushing her spirit, he would destroy her and everything that she held most dear.
He would be no good for her. A cruel, angry man with an aging body and a broken soul, he had nothing of substance to offer. And no matter how willing she might be to overlook his flaws, she was worthy of much more than he was capable of giving. She didn't belong there. Not in his world. Not in his life. She deserved better. And the only way to ensure that she found it, was for him to remove himself from the equation.
So, he'd forced himself to keep his distance, drinking himself into oblivion to keep the pain at bay, his self-loathing fueling his destructive attitude. More than once, he'd caught his teammates' questioning glances and endured their frequent looks of disgust, all of them certain that he was using again. But the smug look he offered in response to their unasked questions went unheeded, the truth remaining unknown to all but himself. In reality, he'd consumed nothing more than liquid spirits, the woman with the warm smile and captivating soul being the only addiction he currently fought.
Although he'd been strong enough to sustain the battle up until this point, he'd felt his resolve weakening from the moment she'd walked through the door. And he wondered, ironically, if she had any idea that, by her unexpected appearance, she had likely just sealed her own fate.