"Oh fuck! I'll get a unit to her house right way."
"There's not going to be time for that. She's going to be dead before they get there. I'm going for her."
"Go! Go! Don't fucking wait, if you can reach her first go!"
Turns out it isn't going to be me who brings death to her door. All the bad shit I was trying to keep away from this girl is already on its way to find her. I really hope all of the work I put into saving this girl isn't going to be for nothing. And what the hell am I going to do with her once I have her safe? Because there's no way I can let her go again. Not now.
4
____________
Kat
I try to stay focused on the show I am watching but my mind keeps drifting back again and again to the stormy blue eyes of the man who saved my life this morning. I either stay tuned into him or think about all the people who got killed today while I got to walk away. The counselor the police made me see this afternoon said I might have survivor guilt and post-traumatic stress. She gave me the name of someone to follow up with if I needed to in the coming days.
I want to be the ghoul that turns the channel and watches the news coverage of it but at the same time, I don't want to be taken back to that place ever again. I've deep cleaned the whole apartment and called my sister in Montana who freaked out when she found out about what happened. She wants me to fly home to Mom and Dad's. I should too. God knows I have enough vacation time saved up. I just...can't seem to leave.
A large part of that is because of him. I guess it's natural to want to be close to the person that saved you. Still, I should be able to go home and not have this overwhelming urge that the only place I am ever going to feel safe again is with him. That can't be normal, can it?
Part of me just doesn't want to go home period. Lately, my Mom has been up my ass to 'settle' down and be more 'like your sister' who just got married six months ago. To an accountant. In Montana. I do not want to settle for anything. I want the fairy tale, with the dashing knight and the happily ever after. I don't want to settle for Mike in accounting just because he asked me out and happens to be the only guy to do so in a really long freakin' time. I could adopt a cat and be just fine.
I've never had much luck with men anyways. I had one boyfriend in high school who dumped me because my eyes freaked him out - he said I looked like a Pekinese his mom had and he just couldn't fuck a Pekinese. In college, the guy I was crushing on seemed to be crushing on me until he asked me to do his homework for him. When I told him no he told me I looked like a stress doll that someone had squeezed too hard too many times.
I think they mean I am really intense. And okay, so my damned eyes have a tendency to bug out or something. I walk by the mirror and stop to look at my face. I don't think my eyes pop out too far, I mean they're big but they don't bulge out or anything. They make my nose look too small and my mouth is too big. I guess I can see how I look like an overused stress toy.
I huff and flop myself on the couch. No wonder the guy couldn't wait to get away from me, he probably thought I was a dog too. God knows I looked like shit when I went into the bathroom at the police station. My make up was running, my hair was a mess and my shoes were gone. The man who saved me would go for a woman who can keep her shit together in an emergency. The kind of woman he would be attracted to would be mysterious and confident and would be just as badass as he is. I can imagine him with a female spy with long legs and shiny hair and a lipstick gun.
I have frizzy hair, I'm short and the only thing I can kill is a tub of Ben and Jerry's in one sitting. Speaking of ice cream...I turn my head to stare longingly at the freezer. My love for ice cream is only surmounted by my laziness.
***
I must have dozed off at some point because when I come to it’s to find a shadowy figure over me. I thought for just a second that I was still dreaming but when I flayed my hands out they brushed against a hard body that had positioned itself in between my spread legs. A hand covers my mouth, freaking me out even more. I push against the body above me using my hands to slap and scratch whatever I can reach.
I realize how truly fucked I am when the person over me captures both my wrists in one of his hands and holds them above my head. I bite down on the fleshy part of the hand at my mouth. The voice that comes against my ear is one that takes me by complete surprise.
"Bite down hard, baby girl. You know I like it when you're rough."
Oh God, I recognize that voice. What the hell is the guy who saved me today doing in my apartment and why the hell is my body turning into a water fountain because of it? It takes me a long time before I realize what he just said to me. Holy mother of Orgasms he did not just tell me he wanted me to bite him.
I start mumbling into his palm even though he can't hear me. I arch my back off the couch in an attempt to have him move but it doesn't work like I thought it would. It doesn't move him at all. Instead, it pushes all of my softness up into his hardness and drives home the fact that I am not wearing a lot.
When I got home I wanted to put something on that would make me feel better. I've always had a thing for sexy sleepwear and heels. I pulled out a favorite of mine and went to bed with a throw pulled over me. Now the only thing over me is the man from today, which means he's brushing up against my bare thighs and every time I move I run the risk of having something pop out for a quick peek.
"I'm going to take my hand away and you are going to lay here like the good little girl you are and not make a sound, right."
I narrow my eyes at him and mumble a suggestion of what he can do to himself if he were flexible enough but I don't think he could make it out with the barrier of his palm between us. Still, his eyes narrow in return and he gives me a little shake with the free hand that isn't holding my wrists above my head.
"Aren't you?"
I nod, what the hell else can I do? Psycho isn't going to get off of me until I give him my word I'm not going to shout the roof down on him. He slowly peels his hand away from my lips as he stares me down, daring me to be loud.
"What the...?" his hand goes back over my mouth again.
"What part of no sound do you not understand, Kiska?"
What the hell did he just call me? I ask but it comes out mumbled again because the bastard won't let me go. Instead, he leans forward and puts his lips next to my ear causing me to shiver at the movement of fine hairs on my temple. I wait for him to say something but I think...he sniffs me.
Worry and a little bit of fear are now really pushing through all the sexy time thoughts that were going through my head. I'm lying under a man who is way stronger than I am, I’m half-naked, and he has my hands trapped. This does not look good if it were a breaking and entering situation. Hell, this doesn't look good if it were an old friends who've known each other for years situation. I yank at my hands but he doesn't let them go.