Page 34 of Lost in Life

Chapter 17

Nova

Motherfucking arrogant piece of shit.

I glare down at the unconscious man. Men always underestimate me. A fact I have used to my advantage many times throughout my life.

My mind flashes back to the many times I’ve had to use the element of surprise. It’s not been an easy time by myself, but I’ve learned a thing or two along the way.

Hands grip my shoulders, spinning me around. “Are you okay?” West asks again, his eyes and hands roaming over my body.

I push away from him, holding my hands up as a barrier between us. “I’m fine.” I snap, gesturing around us. “All this? It doesn’t make us okay. If anything, it’s the opposite.” West looks at me brokenly, crossing his arms to keep from reaching for me again. “What the fuck were you doing, West?”

Confused, he cocks his head to the side. “I was getting the motherfucker off of you.” He replies, his eyes widening. “Wait, did you…want it?” Hurt flashes across his face as he glances at the man lying on the floor.

Shaking my head, I run my hand through my hair. “No, jackass. Notthat. In the alley. Why were you just watching?” My anger fades as a deep sadness fills me. “Were you going to just let him kill me? I know we’re not in the best place but…” I avert my gaze, chewing on my bottom lip.

He’s abandoned me before, I don’t know why I’m surprised.

“No!” West exclaims, the volume mixed with the bright lights making me flinch. Noticing my discomfort, he lowers his voice. “Sorry.” He mutters, taking a step closer to me. “I just need you to understand howwrongyou are, Nova. I froze for a moment, I was so scared of losing you that I became paralyzed by the fear. But I swear to you, I wouldn’t, Ididn’t,let him.” Reaching a hand up, he gently strokes my cheek.

My heart aches as I desperately want to believe him. Want to welcome him back into my life. But it’s too late.

Shaking my head, I push away his hand. “I wish I could believe you.” I murmur, turning and stepping over the still unconscious man.

Walking out of the room, I discover the same small living space I woke up in earlier. Wooden planks run across the floor and up the empty walls. The only furniture a small table tucked into the space between a kitchen and the main living area, a built-in wall of cabinets on one side of the living area, and a leather couch sits beside an old wood furnace on the other.

If I didn’t know better, I would think this place was abandoned.

Walking through the sparse room, I open the front door, exiting to my freedom. Stepping out onto the porch, my eyes scan the darkness surrounding the small cabin.

“Fuck me.” I grumble, the sounds of forest life echoing in the dark. Turning back toward the cabin, I stumble into West. He instinctively catches me before I can trip and fall.

Keeping a hold on me, he peers out into the darkness. “Guess we’re not going anywhere right now, huh?”

Pulling free from his hold, I stomp past him. “Help me find some rope or something.” I shout over my shoulder.

“Rope?” West calls back, following me back inside.

Rummaging through drawers, I nod. “Yeah, we need something to tie our mystery anti-hero up with.” Pausing my search, I turn toward West, placing my hands on my hips. “If we’re going to stay here, I am not going to let him walk around thinking he can do whatever the fuck he wants.” A flash of the man hovering over me goes through my mind, my pussy clenching in response.

Nope. That didnotturn you on. No fucking way.

Turning back toward the wall of built-in cabinets, I resume my search, letting out a triumphant cry as I discover the motherlode. “Oh fuck yeah!” I exclaim, my smile widening as I beckon West over.

Coming up behind me, he looks over my discovery, whistling. “Well hot damn. Who is this guy?” He muses, running his hand along a long curved knife.

Grabbing the rope, I turn toward the small kitchen table and move one of the chairs next to the old furnace. “I don’t know, but we sure as shit are about to find out.”

West tosses the ice cold water onto the man. He wakes with a start, head whipping around as he tugs on the ropes confining him. “What the fuck is this?” He growls, turning his wild eyes on me. “You better let me go, little girl.” He warns, his voice dangerously low.

Stepping up to him, I press the blade against his throat, leaning into his face. “I’m not alittle girl.” I growl, my anger growing at the term.

Glaring at me, he snarls, “Yeah? Then what are you?”

Smirking at him, I press the blade harder against his skin. “I’m your worst nightmare.” I reach my free hand up to pat his cheek. “I would also advise you stop calling mesheandher. That is, if you want to keep your tongue.”

I’ve officially cracked. I’m not sure what has taken over me, but I feel a sadistic sense of satisfaction at the promise of retribution for the constant misgendering. It’s like years of pain and frustration come crashing into me and break free with the threat.

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