Page 13 of Cut Me Down

That mother fucker….

I look back to her and look over her body with pure adrenaline and hatred coursing through my veins…her tattoos make so much sense now. The placement of the ships, the direction of blaster shots, all of the stars… The reason she’s terrified to breathe or walk out of the apartment. Keeping as little distance to travel as possible with her home being directly over her place of business. Her tossing and turning at night, only able to sleep a few hours maximum before waking up in a panic and having to fall back asleep.

My feelings don’t feel wrong anymore. Clarity shoots through me just as harshly as it did last week. She needs me just as much as I need her. Everything I’ve done so far, and everything I’m about to do is now justified. We’re connected for a reason, and it’s not only so I can protect her. It’s so I can heal her. She’ll soften me, so I can harden her. The person she is underneath the sorrow and trauma is trying to claw its way out, and I’ll pull her from the depths. She’ll try to humanize me and bring me back from the cruel violence I dish out every day, while I make those that harmed her beg at her feet for forgiveness before I slaughter them.

I want to take every gentle fiber that is left of my being and give it to her while she explores her darkest and deepest, hidden desires. Her bloodlust and need for revenge must be wading on the surface of her, and I’ll allow her to be who she truly wants and needs to be without shaming her for it. In fact, I’ll admire her for it. She’s desperate to find out who she is, and she’ll find that with me. We were meant to complete each other; I see that now. I will be her weapon. Her protector, and she will wield me with such grace it would make queens weep.

She. Is. Mine.

And Cooper Siezly’s life will end.

Very soon.

Very. Painfully. Soon.

My phone rings, interrupting my awakening, and I have to resist the urge to fling it into the wall as well. After taking a moment to release my pent-up breath, I answer it without glancing away from my girl.

“What?” I say, practically hissing through my teeth.

“Damn, what’s wrong with you?” Carter asks, his voice filled with concern.

“Ashia. Look her up in the police database and you’ll see what’s fucking wrong with me. What do you need?” He’s silent for a moment as I hear his incessant clicking in the background. Then silence…he’s seeing what I saw, though he’s probably able to keep his shit together and look through it right now, unlike me.

“D…”

“Don’t say a fucking thing. Not to me or anyone else. I’m going to look at it in detail myself. What. Did. You. Need.” He clears his throat, and I swear I can hear him swallow his fear.

“Kit found another warehouse. No women yet, not even operational, but by the looks of it, their moving the equipment and chemicals in tonight. What do you want to do?” I continue to stare at her, and I can’t imagine leaving her alone. Now I understand her friend’s wariness. What happens if this guy comes for her? What if she finds herself on the balcony again and she has to suffer alone? This needs to be dealt with, but I don’t want to tear myself away. I’ll make this quick. With the pure rage flowing throughout my body, this won’t take long at all.

“Send me the location. I’ll do it myself. Get one of our drones to overlook her apartment while I’m gone.” I hang up before he can tell me anything else or protest. I need this release tonight, and he won’t deprive me of that.

Chapter six

Ashia

‘7 Rings’- Our Last Night, Derek DiScanio

‘Baby’- Justin Bieber, Ludacris

‘It Wasn’t Me’- Shaggy, Rik Rok

Two Days Later

After my last client of the day walks out, I lock the door and begin cleaning up. I'm thinking of trying to finish my book tonight instead of watching a movie, and I’m sure all of my brain cells will thank me for it. The book is a sci-fi nonfiction, filled with laser sword battles and armies of cloned warriors. So far, it’s really good. Well, all of the four chapters I’ve been able to focus on and read so far are.

I have another book, but I haven’t brought myself to even open it. A romance novel.Thanks, Ser.I don't need unrealistic expectations of men or love. I’ve witnessed firsthand what those kinds of feelings can bring you, and I’m not interested. I can’t watch romantic movies anymore, even funny ones, without feelings of depression and longing setting in. Then after I notice how manipulative and corrupted the men in those movies are, the only thing I feel is anger. So, I imagine something as detailed as a book won’t be much different.

Then again, if the male main character had the right characteristics, ones such as a strong jaw and blue eyes, I could make that work. Maybe just skip all of the fake adoring scenes and skip right to the smut. Yeah, that could work.

My phone buzzes on the counter beside me as I empty our barbicide bucket, drawing me away from my thoughts, and I answer to hear Serena’s enthusiastic voice.

“Hey girl! What's up?” She practically yells.

“Hey, Ser. Nothing. Just cleaning up the shop. You?”

“Nothing much, I just got home and was going to indulge myself with the banana pudding I bought, but it's a huge container and I need help. So, get your ass over here.” She demands.

“I don't know, Ser. That's sweet, but I was thinking of staying in and reading.” I say with conviction, hoping she won’t feel the need to stop my self-sabotage.

---