Chapter 12: Life Goes On...Or Does It?
A/N: First I want to say Happy New Year to everyone! 2020 was a dumpster fire for everybody but 2021 will be much better. I'm speaking it into existence! I'm really sorry if this seems a little rushed, because technically it is. I also give some insight into John's perspective at the end. Hope you like it!
Sidenote: Just to let y'all know, I will be focusing on updating my other stories for the start of the year. And no it won't take me long to get back to Skyline.
Embarking into the kitchen, you procured a packet of peppermint tea from the top cabinet and placed a cup filled with water into the microwave. You'd been drinking a lot of the beverage lately since the aromatic herb has great calming effects in addition to relieving headaches and digestion issues. Except you drink it to feel healthy and energized. Even on recommendation from your grandmother, you haven't felt the need to consume any tea. Sweet or not.
Once you place the tea packet in the mug, you curl up on the sofa with a book in hand. At first, you felt like an old ass woman - an old ass woman that has her shit together but an old ass woman no less. It's crazy to think that a few weeks ago, you never would've considered this but look at you now. It's only now that you realize why so many people do this - it's actually alright. Reading has been a huge distraction for you, habitually taking your mind off things you didn't want to spare time or energy towards. Along with that, you're practicing more positive thoughts. And you're not watching much TV either and it kind of feels like you're one of those white women that gets separated from their partner, drops everything, and go's on a soul-searching journey. Except there's no pocketful of sunshine.
For the most part, you've been taking things relatively easy. Doing a little cleaning here and there but that's always therapeutic. Your general mood has changed drastically since you made a conscious choice not to think of him and because of that the thoughts have lessened over time. So far your life has been normal, quiet for the most part. As normal and quiet as it can be at this point. And you're not bothered by it since you haven't felt this sensible and level headed in a while. As a matter of fact, you'd even go so far as to say you missed it despite not being able to recall the last time you'd felt this way.
Who'd blame you?
You took a sip from the cup, the warm liquid feeling entirely too refreshing as it burned a path down your throat into your stomach. The feeling puts you at ease immediately. The light, cooling taste has a satisfying effect on your tongue and there's distinctive minty-fresh aroma lingering around the space and it leaves your nostrils open. Sometimes the worst place to be is in your own head.
The first day you felt like an absolute jackass. Most of it is spent pacing around and being completely on edge about the whole situation. Worrying about if you'd made a horrible mistake. Abstaining from him is literally one of the hardest things you ever had to endure. You're like an addict suffering from withdrawal and you don't know how many times you'd contemplated grabbing your keys to his house. The thought of throwing in the towel had crossed your mind more than a few times. And you couldn't find an ounce of peace for the remainder of the day.
The second day is a little less stressful but still stressful nonetheless. But you're a soldier. Now you wished that it's necessary for the brain to have a switch that can turn off all of life's pressures. You sure could use it right now.
Makes no difference how much you wished you could go back in time and change everything. Stewing in the negative feelings and thoughts wasn't an option especially after being presented with the opportunity to rid yourself of them. It wasn't making it any easier, admitting is one thing but still you're just managing it better. Apart from that, there's always a chance that the break could turn into never seeing one another again. Truthfully, you don't know how long the break will extend for only that it would continue until you felt confident. Once you get a hold on your anxiety then the process will be simpler.
Taking everything into account, you have a point to prove, if only to yourself.
Every moment not spent focusing on him is put towards socializing with your friends and giving time to your interests. It's all in an effort to find balance. Now you certainly have the time and energy. Things will eventually go back to normal. For that to happen you both have to be on the same page. The only thing that's wrong with that sentiment is that you have no clue on how John feels about the interval. And as much as you desperately want to know only time will tell.
Getting enough time for yourself has become a priority and you planned for it to stay that way on a regular basis. It feels good and you deserve it. Everything you do is starting to feel like little side quests whose sole purpose is to distract you from doing what you really wanted.
You alternate between naps and being proactive. One day, Tre suggested that you go to the gym with him and you reluctantly agreed. If you'd known that his ass would work you like a certified trainer then you would've stayed right at home. You almost died. Now you know why exercising never appealed to you. That shit is dark sided. Some of those workouts you never even heard of before. There's no way on God's green earth that you'd be able to do that shit on a daily basis. Why in the fuck would anyone choose to willing do that to themselves? He won't have to worry about you ever going again that's for sure. You shouldn't know better when your body damn near shuts down on you while attempting a sit-up.
He makes you commit to a full strenuous workout session, unable to leave until you power through the whole thing and if you didn't pull through then he'd upload an embarrassing video of you drunk at a Christmas party from last year. No matter how much you begged and pleaded, he wouldn't delete it - it's one of the reasons why you hated getting blackout drunk in front of your friends. Although, they called it memories, you called it blackmail to use for later. Tre himself, is tall and very much in shape. Working out is normal for him and he doesn't play any games with it. As a quick warm-up you both ran a mile on a treadmill, which in your opinion is one of the absolute worst. Not to mention that Tre finished ten minutes ahead of you. Who the fuck did he think he was anyway...Usain Bolt?
And might've hated the whole experience if he didn't keep you laughing every five minutes. It's impossible to do a sit-up at the same time you're releasing a belly laugh. Embarrassment is the only thing that kept you from dying on the padded floor of the gym. It's not like you're out of shape, this is merely a means to get you out of the apartment. Another reason you avoid going to the gym is the inability to deal with the staring. You struggling to push through a workout gives people more than enough grounds to eyeball you.
For once, you're not entrenched in emotional complications. With your stress levels reduced, you feel much more comfortable than before - like you can concentrate on the things you need to. You've gotten better at knowing when you're due for an episode. For the most part, the pills have been helping with the head pain and you haven't had to deal with the inconvenience of a headache for days now.
Once you return home, you discover that your hair has been delivered in your absence. A shrill of delight zips through you. The quality of the hair is full, soft and doesn't look as if it'll shed after a while. The hair is an essential Ombre brown HD lace front wig - the type that someone would find online or in a store for six-hundred dollars. Thankfully, you're able to get your hair at a cheaper price of two-hundred even. You never were really adventurous when it came to having any sort of color in your hair, usually always preferring to stick with black. On the other hand, it's nice to switch it up every now and then. Experiment.
You'd never worn a lace front wig before so naturally you're skeptical about how it'll turn out. Lace fronts and frontals require excess maintenance and you don't have the patience for any of it. At first, you were worried about not being able to find someone to install it on such short notice. Though your stylist Shannon is quick to refer you to a woman that works in her shop named Chardai who specializes in installs. You'd seen some of her work on social media before and she's pretty good at what she does so a lot of your worries are quelled instantly.
Every single person close to you knows how iffy you are about letting new people in your hair. Nothing like new hair to make you feel like a new person. It's easy to maintain conversation with her without it being totally awkward.
The magical feeling a bookstore gives you when you walk into it is unmatched. And there's not much that can compare to it. The tall shelves of books around you is like a paradise you never wanted to leave. Browsing a bookstore will forever be a thrill.
Aside from the public library, this is the only other place you can state your love of reading. Here there's no shame in feeling like a weirdo for liking the smell of new books. While this is technically a new store, you have yet to build a relationship with the employees. For once, you don't mind striking up a conversation with strangers about literature. The clerk is friendly and personable even when you ask for book recommendations.
Minutes quickly blur into hours if you find a book interesting enough. Paperback or hardback, it really doesn't matter. Stimulating your mind is all you care about. Typically, you avoid the romance section in favor of something like true crime. Those are always informative, believe it or not.
Since the majority of Barnes and Noble went out of business you've wondered if you'd be forced to read in places like Starbucks where the customers are pretentious and the smell of coffee lingers in your nose days on end.
The bell on the entrance chimes and you see a young black girl dressed in hues of black and dark purple and your interest is piqued. The grunge/alternative lifestyle has always been something that fascinated you even as a young teenager. From the culture right down to the clothing. It's deeper than just shopping at Hot Topic and listening to Paramore. After this, you might even invest in your own pair of chunky black boots and fishnets. It's only right.
Alexis' place is a little ways from yours, not really within walking distance but still close enough to get there in a shirt drive. Since you're desperate for a change of scenery having spent what you deemed enough time in your residence when she invited you over you jumped at the chance, picking up Jasmine from work along the way. Without fail, the three of you set around the living room and talk.
"I'm not going to get too messed up. I wanna save some drunk for the party."
"You're so pitiful." Jasmine laughs.
"And you're gonna be pitiful right with me."
"I'm not sad, I just didn't want to talk about it."
"Okay so...that means you're sad. Is that why you've been acting like somebody's grandma? Endorsing tea and shit?"
"You act like I'm suffering or something."
"I ain't say all that, sounds like a guilty conscience though."
"It's not though."
"How much do you wanna bet it's man trouble?" Jasmine insinuated to Alexis.
"Don't worry about it. Let me break out the playlist."
"Playlist?"
Summer Walker's Playing Games starts up from the speakers near the tv. "I'm dedicating this one to you." Alexis says. "Listen you might as well just get it out right now cause we're going to that party tomorrow."
"I'm not fucking sad. The only reason I pulled up on him is-"
"Oh so you doing pop-ups and didn't call nobody? Aw okay."
"Don't even do that. If I would've brought y'all with me then I'm sure our assess would be in jail. So I don't wanna hear that. I know y'all and how y'all get down." Even though you could hardly take their asses anywhere but you loved them. Despite everything, they're true, loyal friends ready to ride for you whenever. And you wouldn't trade them for the world.
"About three weeks ago he left on a business trip and I hadn't heard from him. Naturally, I was concerned so I went to the place I thought he could be. I sat there for a while like a fool just about to pack it up and leave. Then...he came out but he wasn't alone."
After that statement, you noticed your friends freeze up at the admission, Jasmine with a glass halfway to her lip and Alexis with her neck at an angle awaiting the rest of your admission like an important news bulletin on the five o'clock news. Needless to say, you braced yourself for the resulting reaction your words would bring, silently praying that they're reaction would be as bad as you expected.
"The Perkins woman was right behind him."
Jasmine promptly set her glass down on the table while Alexis leaned back with her mouth wide open.
"Now I won't lie, I wanna know more about who this woman is. She's causing a little too much conflict between y'all."
Alexis sighed. "I'm already sick of hearing about this bitch. At this point it's giving fan, it's giving miserable bitch. See...that's why you gonna beat hoes up the first time."
"So you didn't run them over, you didn't start planning their funerals, what did you do?"
"I took my L in peace and went back to my folks house."
Jasmine sucked her teeth. "Ain't nobody going up about men folk nowadays."
Alexis wasn't having it. "Tuh! Who ain't? I'll beat a bitch with a brick about mine. And Jasmine you really can't talk because…" Hearing the words, you knew she meant every word. If your crazy ass friend had her way, she'd surely chop up any meddling woman into pieces.
Jasmine is quick to wave her off. "Okay...okay we're not gonna get into that. Don't bring up old shit."
"Yeah. You better act like you know."
"No I'm still on this other woman shit. You need to learn to let that polite shit go. Tell the hoe to move out the way!"
You folded your hands in your lap. "I'm choosing peace over violence."
"Okay Mother Teresa." Alexis said, rolling her eyes. "You still should've dragged her but okay. You and Jasmine get on my nerves tryna take the high road all the time. Let go and let God!"
"What good is that gonna do me?"
"Hell it'll make you feel better at least! As a matter of fact, I hope she knows that she's not seeing my friend, period. Whoever she is."
"I'm not in competition with that woman...especially about a man."
"Girl fuck all that. He's yours." Alexis' corrects. "I know it, you know it, and she knows it."
You didn't even acknowledge the comment anymore, it's a lost cause at this point. You liked the idea of a man rather than actually having one but she clearly has her heart set.
"Lex you're missing the point, she can't put a claim of ownership on him because they aren't together."
"That's a lie, they're together in spirit."
Even Jasmine couldn't couldn't contain her amusement. "Girl what the hell is wrong with you?" she giggled.
"I mean they can't not be together I'm already claiming him as my brother."
"Oh no the fuck you ain't." You interrupted, setting wide, deadly serious eyes on her.
"Sis that is big bro. That's brotha."
The resulting screaming you and Jasmine let out almost shook the woman's apartment. If the neighbors were home, they'd be pissed.
"While he buying cars and shit, tell him to get you a house."
"It doesn't matter because we're not talking right now."
"Not talking?"
"Yeah, we're taking some time apart. At first, it was eating me up but now I'm not trippin because it's needed honestly. I made the executive decision and I stand by it." Even though you want to be in his presence so bad it's nearly killing you but it's not exactly a lie. "To be honest, we're not even supposed to be fucking each other." They didn't know what you truly meant by that and frankly you can't ever tell them. You're literally at war with yourself over your decision to stay away everyday.
"I see where you're coming from and I'm all for your happiness but me? I'm not taking a break from nothing. I'd just make him apologize in other ways."
"Ways like what?"
"Shit I don't know! He gotta do something out of the box like lick my toes or eat my ass or something." The woman asserted.
"He already did that." You whispered under your breath.
"Wait what!?" Both women shrank back in surprise.
"When did this happen?"
"Not long ago." You shrugged.
Now you're sure if you should've let that interesting tidbit of information slip out. Too long now, might as well lay all your cards out on the table.
"Like with tongue and everything?"
"Umm yeah."
Jasmine propped her chin on her hand in curiosity. "And you didn't ask him to do it? He just...did it. Dove right in?"
"Mmmhh."
Jasmine snorted, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Alright, I'm officially inclined to say that he's definitely your man now. Y'all are locked in for sure. I can see why you popping up on him and shit. Once you get into that territory, there's no going back."
"I rest my case. You can't deny it anymore." Alexis laughs.
"It's not about him...it's about me! I stepped away because I felt like it was getting too intense."
"Intense like he's gonna propose or…"
The notion is laughable but you gave her a lethal side eye.
Alexis shook her head in an annoyed fashion. "I'm just tryna lighten up the mood goddamn."
"How long has this break been going on?" Jasmine goes, ignoring Alexis' antics.
"Bout a week."
"And how do you feel?"
"I feel...okay I guess. On the upside, I've gotten some inner peace that I really needed. But on the downside, I miss him. Like I really really miss him with everything in me. And the worst thing about it - even if I wanted to go to him now, I wouldn't even know what to say." You explained, voice cracking a little, bottom lip curling as you looked away.
You rubbed a hand over your face in frustration, you're not exactly a person who could wallow in such feelings for long. "Then there's so much in between that that I can't even get into."
Your friends shared a look of raised eyebrows and concerned expressions.
Jasmine slid closer, taking in a long breath. "With stuff like this, sometimes you just gotta be willing to put yourself out there. You and that man obviously have some sort of connection for you to be feelin like you are. I can't tell you what to do because only you know what you want to do. And you'll do it when the time's right."
You folded your arms hearing that.
"Do you regret being with him?" She continued.
"No. I could never regret that. He's one of those people that you only come across once in a lifetime. The kind you wanna hold unto."
Both women are visibly thrown off by your confession, torn between shook and something undetermined. "If he's someone like that...if he's how you say he is. Then why are you running from him." Jasmine enquired, cross-examining you like a detective in a homicide investigation.
You shifted uncomfortably. "I...I don't know."
Alexis reaches over to take your hands in hers. "Beloved." You try not to laugh at Alexis' attempt to emulate Iyanla's likeness. "At this point. You just need to let go of everything that doesn't serve you. Everything except John."
You and Jasmine wait to meet up at Alexis' house to start getting ready.
"I am so ready! The streets been calling my name!"
"Girl nobody calling you but Pj."
Though you opted to drive your own car so when the time came to leave, you wouldn't cut your friends night short. When you're ready to go - you're ready to go. There wouldn't be any waiting. Jasmine gave you shit about this but you stand by your choice.
In spite of a chill in the air, you're relieved it isn't as cold as you thought it would be. Otherwise the costume choice would be an awful one. All three of you dressed as Lola Bunny from Space Jam with fake ears and furry tails. Before the idea of wearing the same costume, you were seriously considering going as tinker bell to which Alexis judged as lame. The party is thrown by some of Tre's frat brother's in a modest looking building that's probably used to host all kinds of events. The party is way more lit than you expected it to be. Drinks are flowing and people in costumes are mingling off to the side. The smell of weed is loud as hell.
Tre finds the three of you fairly quickly after you step foot in the door and you all exchange hugs and pleasantries. "What took y'all so long?"
"Jas and that damn winged eyeliner!"
"Girl what you doing will all that ass?" While you're well aware of what the white shorts are doing for your ass, you'd rather not bring any attention to it than necessary.
Another guy comes up to stand next to him. "Ay this is my bro Will." He explains, slapping a hand on the guy's shoulder. Wil looks like the type that has a bunch of women under his belt and is staunchly committed to basketball shorts and Nike slides. Already the guy is smiling too hard at you and it's making you slightly uncomfortable. You wouldn't be caught dead entertaining a man like him.
The vibe is great, the music is fire - it really sets the tone for the whole night's atmosphere. The energy of everyone is off the charts crazy, to the point where you're smiling and dancing with people you've never seen a day in your life. For a brief second, you felt that you might be a bit too exposed but seeing some of the other girls' costumes, those thoughts were immediately put to rest.
You can take a compliment but not when it's sole purpose is to charm you out of your panties. Your face sits in a mostly placid state, unwanted and unwilling to shift.
He's charming, you'll give him that. But he doesn't do it for you. There's just something about him. Your tastes run differently now. During your days as a naïve freshman, you might have given him a chance but now...
As expected, he's asking you all kinds of personal questions in an attempt to get to know you better. There's a chillness about him but knowing mean and how deceptive they could be - this could easily be a front. "Want a drink, little mama?"
Truthfully, you're not drinking because you worried that it might interfere with your medication. But you still wouldn't take a drink from him regardless. You awkwardly smile and shift away from him, trying to keep a sizable distance. "Nah, I'm good."
"You sure? Plenty for everybody."
"You know what...I think I'll take you up on that." You have absolutely no interest in him whatsoever but obviously he's interested in you. You can always lie and say that you have a boyfriend but that doesn't always deter some men. And he looks like some men. Men and their audacity never ceases to amuse you. Maybe being unfazed is enough to get him to set his sight elsewhere but you're not so sure since he's pretty determined. He's getting too close to you. Soon he'll be trying to put his arm around you and invade your personal space. It's coming, you can feel it. You don't want to be mean but you needed him to take his ass on somewhere.
He flashed a big cheesy grin again and proceeded towards the bar area. Once he disappeared into the crowd, you hurriedly moved from the spot to a place where you couldn't be seen easily.
Having gotten your fill of dancing, you mostly moved to stand by the wall with your arms crossed, content to just watch your friends enjoy themselves. When you're not holding hands or linked by the arms, your crew is never far from one another. Jasmine is conversing with a girl whom she has a class with while Tre and Alexis are going stupid on a bottle of Amsterdam. They didn't think you were aware but you'd seen them paying close attention to you and Will like a couple of creeps. A set-up if there ever was one. You have absolutely no intention of becoming a part of some half-ass bet. The rest of the night would not be spent ducking and dodging this man.
Jasmine has had the same cup in her hand all night. If anything Lex is gonna be the only one fucked tonight. Earlier you'd warned her about drinking on an empty stomach so she'd eaten one chicken wing from a gas station and proclaimed that she was ready to go. She's crazy for just eating one though, gas station chicken hits different.
There's a blonde woman that just keeps flashing you a smile every time you look up. You figure that she's just too shy to speak up and make a new friend seeing as you'd been there before. You're particularly sensitive to things like this.
Honestly, you're sick of having to stand and maneuver through the crowd so you inform your friends that it's about that time. "Alright imma head out."
Tre offers to guide you outside but you decline the offer. You don't want him to leave the party. Jasmine tells you to call her once you make it home and you tell her you 're seconds from reaching your car in the parking lot when a familiar face catches your eye. The blonde from the party is standing a few feet away.
Her face has an accent that you can't place. "I just wanted to tell you how pretty your makeup is. You should really try modeling."
For her to approach you like this is pretty sketchy but she seemed like a nice albeit weird person. "Thanks. But I don't think I'm cut out for that."
"Why not."
A damp rag comes up to cover the entirety of your face and a heavy arm wraps around your midsection to keep you in place just before you have a chance to put up a bid of fighting. When the abductor realizes that you weren't going down easily, the cloth is moved to cover just your mouth and nose, ceasing your ability to pull in air and force you to breathe in the funny smelling chemicals embedded within the rag. Whoever this is isn't even giving you the chance to scream. You're giving it your all until your body ultimately grows weaker and weaker until everything goes black.
The first thing you notice when you awaken is that you're dazed and confused in the back of a moving car. You lie on your side on the floor, limbs bound so together so tightly that you feel like a trussed up turkey. Quietly making note of everything in the vicinity. The fabric of the car around you, how tight the bindings are on your wrists and ankles. There's no way of knowing how long you were out for.
To take you outside of a party is bold. All you wanted to do was enjoy a night out with friends, why did you have to get kidnapped. It's a good thing that you decided not to drink tonight, otherwise you might have woken up confused as all hell. Suddenly it's strange to think that God is watching this all play out.
Just what the fuck is going on with your life?
After recovering from another bout of stupor, you find that you're in motion. Someone is carrying you across their shoulder, you can tell by a pair of boots walking across a dusty floor. From your limited view, it appears that you're in an old building that might be abandoned. He's moving down a long corridor passing rooms, some with the doors closed and some open. Where they're transporting you can't be good.
When you're watching the news, you hear all types of stories about murders, robberies, kidnappings, or other atrocities. Oftentimes, thanking God for keeping you and your family protected. And you think for a second that you could ever get caught up in such happenings that you would never experience anything of that magnitude. Given the predicament you're in now, you wonder how in the hell this cold wind up happening to you of all people; being snatched up as you walked to your car from a party. This is the type of shit that happens on tv shows, movies, or in the worst case - real life. You're now made an example.
Falling into a life of being sex trafficked isn't what anyone wants. Were they going to drug you and pimp you out to clients?
You're trying to rapidly scrap your brain for escape tactics that you'd seen on Law and Order but for some reason your mind is drawing a blank. It's no use - you're too startled to think straight, body too preoccupied with fighting against the elements. The best defense is passive cooperation. Trying to escape right now would be too risky and resisting now will only make the situation worse than it has to be.
Right now, you're coping with the situation the best you could've imagined. That almost never reflects reality when something goes in your life.
It's only now that you realize that the woman from the party was in cahoots with the kidnappers. She clearly provided a distraction as someone crept behind and incapacitated you. You merely thought of her as just another weirdo trying to make conversation with you at the party. No true red flags went off. She should feel like the scum of the earth for helping these men abduct other women and children.
A young girl no more than six or seven years old in bright pink pajamas lay unconscious on a dirty mattress in one of the rooms you passed - likely snatched from her bed. For that you're glad that she won't have to see the hell that she's now trapped in. There's a sinking in the pit of your stomach and your heart aches for her. Her parents probably didn't even know she was gone.
With the amount of kidnapping victims you've just seen, this has to be a secure location. There's a special place in the deepest pits of hell for people like this. They wouldn't be seeing a cloud of heaven.
There's anxiety about being placed on a filthy mattress in the middle of a floor but it should be the least of your worries. The surface is riddled with unidentified stains. It's undignified. The place smells like a combination of mildew and outside. Moonlight shone through an open window.
They're more organized than you thought. They knew what the hell they were doing. They're working for someone else who has a lot of power. Their job is to make people vanish. From what you've seen already, they do quite a nice job.
A man with a short cut and beard comes into the room to survey from the looks of it. "Any issue?"
"No."
"Good. Go do another scout, there's plenty of people out tonight."
Once the men heed his orders and leave the room, the bearded one walks up close to the mattress enough to make you shrink in on yourself.
"No need to worry little bunny, we won't rape you. The person who buys you will rape you."
He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. For you to be sold and raped.
Fate must be playing the cruelest joke.
"What? Don't have anything to say? Not going to plead for your life?"
You wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "What good would that do? I've already seen all your faces. I know you're not planning to let me go." Typically, when a kidnapper doesn't take the time to conceal that means two things: one, they're aren't going to let you go and two, they might kill you.
A sinister smile crosses his face. "Smart bunny."
"Don't you take people for ransom?"
"Nope."
There's no sympathizing with people like him - people who have no clear consciousness when it comes to the plight of those they had a hand in victimizing.
"At first...we had our sights on your friend but you came out first." He flashes a sinister smile as he stares down at you. "This is what we do. I hope there's no hard feelings."
The proclamation makes you glower at him like you've got the power to force him to drop dead on the spot.
"It could've been anybody from that party." He assures like the assertion was supposed to make you feel better. If it hadn't been you then another innocent person would be taken from their families.
"People are a valuable investment. People pay good money for other people." He speaks as if he's talking about the weather, not stealing and distribution of people for large sums of money.
You still can't quite quell the level of disgust you feel hearing the words. He's some kind of sick to be able to participate, no - facilitate these kinds of activities. You refuse to let yourself feel an ounce of fear all of it leaves to make way for anger.
Unfortunately, you're too exhausted to put up a proper fight and you could offer no defense if the man decided to get violent. Your frame is shivering uncontrollably, fading in and out of consciousness, head pounding hard enough that it's making you feel nauseous. And it bothers you that you're not capable of doing anything to change your situation. Escaping is hard and the odds are definitely not in your favor.
You grit your teeth, fingers tightening into fists against the pain in your head. The binding seems like it's getting tighter around your wrists to the point where you can barely feel your fingers. It takes you a minute to regain your bearings.
If you continue to lay here the worst possible outcome is waiting for you and if it gets to that point then there will be no escape.
What are you waiting for?
Right now, you're in one of the shittiest positions a person could be in. Getting your brain to work logically is quickly becoming a failed endeavor and the sense of helplessness is starting to set in. Technically speaking, you've watched too many crime shows for your brain to fail you like this. One thing's for sure - the main priority here is surviving no matter what.
Sounds of panic and loud popping noises started to ring out in the distance and had you been any more disoriented you might've thought you were hallucinating. Even though you couldn't see it, you know that there's chaos going on somewhere in the building. The sound of gunfire exploding should've alarmed you but you're more confused than anything. Especially with your captor running out of the room in a panic.
There's not enough adrenaline to keep you from falling under again, in fact, your vision is growing significantly blurry. The next thing you register is that you're being wrapped in something, head against a heartbeat you can make out. As you turn your head up, the only thing you can see is a sharp jawline and perfectly trimmed facial hair. Whoever this is, they're carrying your limp body, strange since you weren't expecting anyone to swoop in and save you.
Everything around you turns into streaks of black and white. Next thing is notice that you're cushioned against something sturdy. A seat perhaps?
"...I'd like to make a dinner reservation for fifteen." You hear faintly, vision fading in and out.
The hell?
Who was setting up a dinner reservation at a time like this?
It was a strange time to be making a dinner reservation but you guess people go up about being seated where they wanted in a restaurant.
Blinking against the heavily clouded fog that is your mind, your eyes start to crack open slowly. While your awareness comes back, you recognize the surroundings as John's bedroom and your brows crease in confusion. The sight of your impassive lover sitting on the bed nearly sends you into shock, heart skipping a beat. You have no clue of how long he's been here watching you and you're obviously perplexed. Your senses are still a bit impaired and you still feel shit as shit. The dizziness probably wasn't going to subside anytime soon either.
The dull ache in your temple is ignored as you sit up in the bed. Your head still feels like it's underwater to a certain extent. It feels like someone is sitting on your chest.
"The exposure probably won't wear off for another few hours."
"What happened?" You croaked, voice sounding downright awful.
"You were taken." He clarifies evenly.
"I mean what happened to the people that took me?"
John's visage darkened but he didn't provide an answer for the men's fate. But you have a clear enough idea. Especially when you see that there's a gun secured in the holster on his hip. When you met you witnessed him gun down over a dozen men in a bar. It made perfect sense.
Though you can't push down the instantaneous feeling of elation you get in your chest as you realize that he'd come for you in your time of need. You were just kidnapped tonight and yet having to face him is giving you heart palpitations of the worst kind. You have a contract killer coming to your rescue unprompted like superman. What did you ever do to deserve such attention? You weren't expecting him to come through and do a sweep.
"Those other people...that little girl." You choked out. Though you try not to think about it - the image of that little girl haunts you. You're spared the sight of blood and mutilated bodies. And although, you've seen too much shit to be traumatized by your experience just knowing horrible things go on like that everyday is devastating.
"It's taken care of."
The overflow of relief hearing that is insurmountable. Thank God. At the same time, you don't feel a smidgen of sympathy for your abductors, as far as you're considered they got what they deserved. You don't get far in life doing dirt. Sometimes karma is a bullet to the brain.
Although you guessed it didn't matter given the circumstances, you were still inclined to ask.
"How did you know I was in danger?"
He falls into a steady silence. This is obviously unexpected for the both of you but certainly not unwelcome.
To say that there's built up tension between the two of you is an understatement. The time spent away from him felt like a torture you'd voluntarily subjected yourself to. Not at all remaining ignorant to the fact that you both were supposed to steer clear of each other.
"Why did you save me?"
His face gave away nothing. Which is not shocking, he's not the type to get sentimental. "Is it really that important?"
"John-"
"No, we don't have to talk about it now."
"And my car?"
"Returned to your residence."
Despite how you wanted to, you didn't ask him why he hadn't felt the need to return you to your apartment as well but you realize that suspicion might arise if people saw him carrying an unconscious woman in the building.
He ushered sweetface from the room so as to give you some space. Several prolonged moments pass in steely silence. Partially because it's much easier to avoid the elephant in the room. Honestly, you don't know what stands in the way of the both of you resuming what you have going. All of a sudden you're apprehensive to beach the subject.
You're already under a lot of pressure with him. Saying how you feel should never ruin a real connection, at least that's what you heard. Lots of things have happened in his absence. You don't consider yourself a normal person with a normal life so why try to be? Why entertain a charade?
"Are you mad at me?"
"No."
You can't ease your mind away from the unmanageable anxiety you're experiencing at the moment. If distress was a person, it would be you. For a while, you can get out of your head enough to handle the situation at hand. That bids the question again. Are you running from him? After much consideration, you think it's because you fear that he's not able to return the feeling you shouldn't have had in the first place.
You did a quick study of his face, watching tiredly as he watches you with an unreadable expression. No doubt a product of his unemotional and pragmatic nature. Like a dark shadow presiding over your life.
"I don't want you to have any misconceptions. The business has a way of being somewhat unpredictable. Perkins had information of value on the target I was charged with hunting."
The statement confirmed your right assumption that John and the Perkins woman did the same kind of work.
"I apologize. The contract took much longer than expected."
"I also apologize for not contacting you. I didn't know it was such a matter of importance for you."
"It's okay."
One might assume that he operates quietly without incident. You don't have a secret code to adhere to. This isn't a surprise. You had little knowledge concerning the intricacies of being a hired killer. Unlike you, he lived by some sort of warped moral code. A code you aren't privy to understanding unless you're in a position like his. All you can do is second-guess what he might be thinking. He never explicitly tells. Never expresses frustration or disappointment. And sums up everything in the fewest words possible. It's hard to determine emotion hidden behind the expression of self-control.
"No more breaks. Ever. If there is an issue, we will talk. Do you understand?"
Throughout the whole exchange, you found yourself staring into his gravelly serious face. So you lay there unable to tear your eyes from him. "Yes."
"Stay. At least until morning."
It's surely not your finest hour but you can wholeheartedly give him your cooperation. You owe him this at least. "Okay." You hoarsely whispered.
You couldn't believe how stupid you'd been were. Your hyper-independence might be the cause. There's nothing wrong with wanting independence, pulling your own weight. But why deny others the right to provide and help you the way that they want? It didn't amount to anything. It feels wrong to push him away then crave his attention. He's not one to be disregarded.
The question passes through your mind one more. Are you running from him? After days of drifting in and out of different headspaces, this sudden rift is needed to tune out everything unfavorable. Especially since, you've been constantly looking for an outlet to challenge your thoughts and emotions.
For this, you can side aside your moral reservations. You decided that you can stand existing in this perpetual state of living for longer. You can endure this if only you had him like this. Existing in a world without him is hard. Even after everything you tried, it's still led back to this. Back to him.
This inescapable feeling - you don't think there's a name for it. It just is. No amount of time spent away from him - whether it be a week or a month will erase what you feel for him. What they had remained undefined and there's nothing that comes to mind that it could evolve into.
Now if you asked yourself how you felt being away from him for so long, the answer would be shitty - very, very shitty. All of this just because you feel unsure.
But you do acknowledge that you're not a helpless woman by any means but sometimes he makes you feel that way, not that it's a bad thing either.
The whole relationship is about being a source of sexual solace for the other so how did it get so complicated so damn fast? In hindsight, you say that change happens when you start feeling things beyond lust. For you, it's not just sex and its never been that. And it's that magnitude of vulnerability that scares you.
What does it mean when a hitman seeks your emotional and physical comfort above all else? Anticipating your wants and needs before you do. You tried not to think about how much pressure that puts on you. Or lack thereof.
Even after all that progress, you're right back where you started - deep within an endless void of overthinking, constant worrying, and needing reassurance. Everything is just so confusing.
The room is dead silent and you can't even find it in yourself to be uncomfortable on account of your rising emotions that you thought you'd pushed down. You're determined not to break the tranquility that envelopes the space.
In the end, aside from a temporary peace of mind, you got nothing out of it. It's foolish to think you could erase him from your heart. Having enough faith in yourself not to screw up again is a huge gamble. At this juncture, you're not about to ruin a moment with unpleasant thoughts that's plagued you for the longest.
There is a substantial amount of doubt you can't shake and uncontrolled feelings you don't have the capability to grapple with just yet. Getting past the fragility of your inner self is challenging. Nothing in life prepares you for this and that's the hard truth of it.
He steps away for a brief moment and you faintly hear the taps in the bathroom turn on. Currently, your energy reserves are low and you can't do much in the way of complying and allowing yourself to be assisted. Soon you're dozing off without truly noticing it.
His timbre is low and mild. "Don't fall asleep okay."
Probably sensing that you're running on empty, John carefully scoops you into his arms, lifting your body from the warmth of the sheets and starts carrying you into the bathroom where a bath has been drawn. He sets out on unsteady feet, a hand is kept at the small of your back to prevent you from tumbling over should you lose balance. Having these large, deadly hands on you ignited a previously thought to be extinguished fire inside your gut. In fact, you don't do much besides look upon him with a docile gaze and let him do whatever he wanted.
The feel of his hands against you is almost overwhelming. You highly doubted that he was trying to seduce you but your body's too happy to accept that as fact. You just...can't help it. There's a deep yearning for him beneath the surface.
He catches your gaze again, silently asking your permission. Which is granted a second later. The way he's looking at you makes your skin erupt in goosebumps. A familiar thing from a familiar scene. Everything he does is serious. Intense.
With painstaking care, John set about relieving you of every stitch of clothing that clung to your body. The white crop top is lifted up and off you in one smooth motion. You're not wearing a bra so your breasts are immediately exposed to his sight. As an afterthought, you cross your arms across over your chest. At first, you thought he might have a slight reaction to the sight but instead he focuses on lowering to his knees to remove your shorts.
This kind of physical activity wakes your body right on up. Arousal burned hotly within your frame. You tried to will it away to no avail. Maybe you should advocate for the reconnection of the mind and body seeing as both of those operate separately. Who doesn't like getting rubbed on and babied?
One thing he can't ignore however, is that your bare cunt is now directly in front of his face. As a matter of fact, John actually stares at him for a moment, jaw clenched tight, almost like he's having trouble reigning himself in. The sight of the mound is enough to elicit a reaction from him.
After a minute, you're standing stark naked in front of him while he remains fully clothed. At this stage, there isn't any concern for modesty in front of him, he'd practically kissed, licked, and sucked everything you had to offer.
The flowing felt particularly nice over your skin and is at an ideal temperature. You usually prefer to boil in water that's way too hot. He transverses your limbs expertly. He starts at your neck and shoulders before taking to care to get your chest, torso, and legs. The lathered cloth trailed delicately over your bare flesh, rapt attention solely focused on cleaning you to the best of his ability. He runs the fabric over the surface of your flat stomach.
So far you're able to keep your hormones under control until the towel dips towards your lower body to finish the cleaning session. John is rubbing careful circles around your vulva and your outside lips gently. You jolted at the contact - he rubbing on your most sensitive area is having the desired effect with your oxygen intake increasing and your body temperature spiking dramatically. Inadvertently, your cunt started pulsing and wetness started to gather there.
Grasping a hold on his hand, you pulled the towel away, purposely placing his hand against your mound. Your initial plan to suppress inner desires is failing miserably and you admittedly can't conjure up the slightest hint of guilt.
He ignored the subtle invitation, albeit grudgingly. Maintaining a serene disposition while he bathed you. To your chagrin, he would not be taking the open invitation.
The two of you hadn't had sex in so long and you were feigning for it and his actions are encouraging lusty sensations. Touching you with a light feather caress. Could this count as fondling even though the sole purpose is bathing you? No one has bathed you since you were a child. You like how this feels - having him take care of you like a toddler.
This type of treatment from a professional killer is eye-opening. This could mean many things. John is - after all, an extraordinary accommodating man. He's so attuned to you that it's almost scary and you're exceedingly grateful for what he's choosing to do for you. It's small things like this that make you feel cared for - protected. John shows you how he feels instead of telling. You thought that caring for you has become a priority for him though you wish he'd give you more insight.
Before long, he's assisting you up and out of the water in a gentle manner, then toweling you dry.
"I didn't take you for a caregiver."
John's impossibly deep voice answers. "I'm not."
"Do you have a scarf or something I can wrap my hair in?"
He seems confused for a moment and you can almost see the gears turning his head before a glint flashes in his eyes. Soon he's moving to a drawer and procuring a silk scarf to give to you.
"Thank you."
He guides you back to the bedroom and encourages you to lay on the mattress.
The pursuit of learning and understanding the relationship dynamic has more to do with finding out how the other works and ultimately limiting fears. What's so important about understanding John is the interpretation of his actions. What is he guarding beneath that hardened exterior?
Just being near him, hearing him, seeing him - it's more than enough for you. "I missed you." You murmur, not truly knowing if he can hear you.
Time passes differently when you're in his arms. You barely notice him dragging his fingers up and down your spine. It's like nothing else matters outside of him. He provides you all the comfort and solace you need after your ordeal and everything negative drains out of you in that instant. This here - means everything and more to you. He shifts you on your side, pressing your forehead against the firmness of his chest. Letting his heartbeat lull you to sleep. When your eyes drift closed again, you settle deep into his embrace, falling asleep to the rhythm of his breathing.
John silently watches your eyes drift closed, weight falling into his chest. Once you succumbed to exhaustion, he recounted the night's unexpected events. The men were nothing but low level sex trafficker's with no affiliation to the underworld who'd set their sights on the wrong woman and that was their downfall. Mowing them down took no time at all. They were likely operating under an even lower crime boss whom he felt like he'd have to deal with later on at some point. He deliberately left the scene before Charlie and his cleanup crew could learn of your existence. All of the other victims would be free to return to the homes they'd been stolen from.
The decision to place a tracker on your car was a crude, invasive one but it's needed in times like this. To see your car venturing out of city limits was alarming and he knew then and there that something was wrong. He would take no chances with your safety. He's aware of how you tend to draw eyes everywhere you go. With tonight's assembly, it was no wonder that you ended up in the predicament you had.
He knows you had to be afraid. You're usually quiet, complacent. He's not sure what to make of it. He can only suspect that it's either from tonight's events or the sudden confrontation streaming from where they last left off.
It was only a few days ago when you'd suggested a break in routine, leaving him wholly confused. On the contrary, he'd seen the weariness in your voice and on your expression. A week ago, he was forced to understand that you needed space and now he sees that you're in need of comfort and has no problem providing that as well. No questions, no complaints. He wondered how long you were going to deny him the pleasure of your company.
If he were honest, you didn't care about you 'following him', he just wanted you to never linger around the continental and its deadly clientele. As a civilian who knows too much already, he can't allow you to get caught in his affairs. He simply cannot allow it under any circumstance.
Even though need simmered dangerously in his aching loins, he vowed that he wouldn't be intimate with you until you felt as though you'd received adequate treatment. When that time came, there would be no more denying yourselves. The lust for your deliciously dipping body is anything but easy to stifle and it's been so long since he's had a taste of your succulent flesh. He hadn't meant to let his eyes linger on your exposed flower. As much as he tried, he could not ignore the soap dipping down your generous frame. There's an unquenched need for your warmth that he can't ever shake himself from craving.
If he didn't feel as if he doesn't have the privilege to initiate any intimacy with you, there's a possibility that he'd give into his desires quite quickly. He inherently understands not to push open a door you'd deliberately chosen to close. Therefore, he would not make the decision to engage in sexual liberties with you. Besides, you needed to rest properly.
You probably aren't aware in your tired state that he could in fact hear the whispered vocalization about missing him. A shocking revelation. But one that's markedly mutual. The time spent without you had him feeling somewhat lost. Confused.
He presses his face into the top of your forehead, eyes softening in the darkness of the room. "YA skuchal po tebe."
A/N: Obviously, there's a lot to unpack here, and I mean a lot. I had to switch some things around but I got y'all next chapter I promise. On another note, I'm thinking of making a tumblr so I can communicate with my audience more.
Translation: YA skuchal po tebe = I missed you.
