Page 82 of Pretty Monsters

"I can hear you, you know," Ted says and rolls his eyes. "Look, I know I kinda shook things around, but I'm on your side. I didn't like being used as a weapon or a tool in some fucked up criminal war, so I understand. Besides, I like Raven."

I glare at him and he holds his hands up. "Chill, killer. I don't think of her like that. She's like a little sister. There's something about her that makes you want to protect her, even though I'm sure that girl's spine is made of steel."

I tip my head and follow Ford and Raven. The short walk through the building isn't long enough to help me figure out what I'm going to do. My mind is still conflicted when I push through the door to the shooting range.

Ford paces back and forth while Raven tries to comfort him.

"I need to get out of here for a while. I can't watch this. It's too much." There's a thread of pain in his tone, which can only be caused by the experiences he's had growing up with an abusive alcoholic.

"It's not safe," I intrude.

He turns towards me, his brown eyes wild. It's a look I recognize. One that begs to be released from a cage. "When has it ever been safe? That's never been the world I grew up in, or you. I'm not in any more danger than I'd be on any other day. My face hasn't been broadcast all over the news. I'm just going to go to grab some clothes and some air mattresses. It's better than watching a friend battle addiction."

Several arguments come to mind. He's right, the world isn't always safe, no matter who you are, but he's also wrong. There are demons hiding in the dark and they're circling all around us.

"I see your mind spinning, but I can take care of myself. You weren't the only one who grew up fighting. I've got my phone." I step aside and let him move past me out the door.

"Raven, we need to talk."

She scoffs. "I think you've said enough." Stepping around me she moves to the door.

My mind might be conflicted, but the rest of me knows not to let her go. Before I think about it, I grab her and pin her against the wall.

Struggling, she tries to jerk free of my hold. "Stop," I demand.

"Go to hell. I'm done with this shit. You're all over the place, and it's making me dizzy."

"You're still mine. I'm not letting you go."

Her eyebrow curves up, and she stops trying to wiggle free. "You aren't letting me go, you're pushing me away."

A growl of frustration rips from my throat. "Everything is spiraling out of control. If I let things slip you could die. I can't survive that."

"You don't make any sense. You said I'm yours, but you treated me like I'm a whore. Is that what you want? For me to be your whore? Because you sure as hell didn't treat me like I'm anyone special."

My nostrils flare and the urge to lash out overwhelms me. I try to shove it down. "I told you I was going to be bad at this."

"You weren't wrong," she quips.

"Fuck, I'm messing everything up. I don't know how to do this, and keep you safe. You push me and challenge me at every turn, and while I can't get enough of it, it's distracting as hell."

"I'll make it easy on you then," she says and tries to slip out of my grasp again.

"I don't want to let you go, but I need–"

"What do you need?" she asks. Her voice becomes husky and low, and if I didn't know how pissed off she was I'd think she was getting turned on.

"Control. I need to know you'll do what I say, when I say so I can focus on everything else. It feels like most of my concentration is consumed with wondering what you're going to do next."

"What if I can give that to you?" she whispers.

I give her a skeptical look. Honestly, sometimes it seems she can barely control herself. I doubt she'd be willing to let me make most of her decisions. Also, I didn't want to dim the fire burning inside of her.

"Can you do that? I'm a bastard for even entertaining the idea, but it isn't just your safety." How do I explain something I didn't even really understand myself?

She licks her lips. "What is it then?"

"There are parts of my past I don't want to burden you with. Ugly things I don't ever want to touch you, and I don't want you to see me differently. But, I haven't always been able to decide how I would be touched."

---