Page 40 of Justyce
I observe how her hands shake when she takes the knife from Arrow and stills. Blonde wraps her small fist around the Brunette’s hand and directs the blade to his stomach.
The knife slides easily into his skin and his howls echo around the room. Brunette’s face turns hard, and I notice the small smirk on the blonde’s face as she steps back and watches her friend stab repeatedly into the black mane’s torso.
“Not so fucking strong now, are you, you piece of shit! How dare you touch me!” brunette screeches. The meek girl I saw moments ago has well and truly disappeared.
It was at least two solid minutes she yelled and stabbed him over and over, until Acheron pulled her away from his slouched, bloodied form with his intestines hanging out. I don’t think she realized what she’d done until Acheron held her to his chest.
When all was said and done, and once she stopped weeping, I spoke to my brother’s, “I’ll leave you to it, unless you need me?”
“Go, we’ve got it from here,” Acheron stated and stroked the brunette’s hair.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t go easy on the red headed fuck, ok.”
“Like you need to tell us that, brother. Go, we’re good,” Arrow replied.
I turn and leave them to it. The thought of having a shower surfaces but I decide to head to the office and change into some other clothes and leave Arcane. The mania is running rampant within me and a sick and twisted part of me wants Kenzi to notice the blood on me.
With the pedal to the metal, I speed home like a mad man possessed, because I am. Those damn electric hues fuck me seven ways to Sunday, and if I was a better man I’d admit it to Kenzi, but I’m not.
My adrenaline is running haywire, my mind a colossal of fuckery, and tonight Kenzi won’t get away with not giving me what I want.
Chapter Thirteen – Kenzi
What a fucking day. After Justyce left me a wanton blubbering mess, I couldn’t get my damn head straight. I resorted to doing a few sets of exercises and some yoga in hopes it’d either calm me down or at least knock me the fuck out. I still haven’t slept.
I did find a notebook and texta, a pen, hiding underneath one of the towels during my numerous pacing of my small jail cell, though. I’m not sure how long it’d been there. If I had to guess, probably awhile.
I open the notebook to see if anything is inside. Justyce’s handwriting is scrawled across the first page. I know it is his because I’ve catalogued everything about Justyce, and for some stupid reason I could never rid him from my mind.
The rest of the day all I did was sit on the damn cot, fiddling absentmindedly with the locket he gave me and write. Finally, after what seemed like hours, I close the book and look around my small space. I should hate him but if I’m real with myself, I don’t. If I told Bianca this shit, she’d laugh in my damn face and tell me all I need to do is fuck him out of my system. If I thought it’d be that easy, I would have done that by now. Something tells me once I get a taste of Justyce Travino, I’ll be addicted.
I’m pulled from my ruminations by the door handle jangling. I don’t have to wonder long who it is because when the door slams open, hitting the wall, I feel him before I even make out his dark shadow.
Justyce stands in the doorway, panting. Visons of him looking down on me while he takes whatever he wants surfaces and I feel myself flush.
I don’t move. Neither does he. I’m surprised, but I won’t reveal my cards because I never know what game or hand he’s playing.
We stare at each other, unmoving, and it feels like we’re in a Mexican standoff waiting for the other to break. I can’t see his eyes, but I’d bet my left tit that those stormy graphite eyes are assessing me, even in the dark.
“Crawl to me, now,” his voice comes out sounding like gravel and my tummy dips then tightens at his command.This is not good.
Guns and bombs go off in my head as I war with my body and mind. My body leans toward him, ready to capitulate, while my brain tries to reason with me, telling me I’m stupid for even considering it.
“I won’t ask you again, Dark One. This is your last chance. Crawl.”
The tone of urgency and no-nonsense that left Justyce’s sinful mouth brokers no argument. In a moment of weakness, after being alone in this goddamn cell for weeks, I fall ungracefully from the lumpy mattress to my knees.
Embarrassment blooms when I realize I’m going to do this, that I’m going to crawl to the man who I should call my enemy. Yet a part of me views him as anything but.
Justyce’s growl fills the room and vibrates inside of me. If he thinks I’m going to make this easy on him or I’ve forgotten what he’s done to me, then he sorely mistaken.
On shaky hands and knees, I begin my slow descent toward him. A thousand thoughts and questions set off in my mind like damn fireworks, the prominent one being what the fuck am I doing?
Quashing them and the feel of the cold concrete underneath my hands and knees, I move at a snail’s pace, anticipating this is killing him as much as it’s taking a piece of my fucking dignity.
“Faster,” Justyce demands, and I sense his patience waning, on the verge of breaking like a fragile piece of string. Fuck him.
The closer I move toward him, the more my stomach somersaults at the sound of his ragged breathes. I should be running the opposite way, especially after all I’ve witness this man do, yet here I am on my knees like his pet crawling toward her master. I’m handing myself to him on a gold platter, and the logical piece of me is cursing me square in the face.
