Page 62 of Twisted

“Fuckin’ cunt. Always hated Duke. Gonna make him watch you take my cock, pretty little thing. Probably bigger than his tiny prick.”

She bucked her hips in an attempt to throw his weight backwards, but he was fat and heavy.

“Fuck…you…” she spat as he palmed her ass. Her skin crawled, and she pushed those thoughts of Randy far, far away. Concentrate. Be smart. Bringing her elbow back in a quick burst, she caught him somewhere in his face, a sickening crunch echoing in the stairwell. He howled in pain and released her but kept her pinned with his hips.

Working up a scream, it was cut off by the quickpop pop popof gunfire. Confused, her mind quickly bridged the gap; both men were wielding guns but opting for the use of knives to either keep quiet or draw out the torture, and upon hearing the familiar crack, her heart stuttered for a moment. Pulsing hot worry through her veins, her heart clenched and tears pervaded her eyesight.

Jaeger, she thought hollowly.No, no, God please, not him! Not so soon, not after everything—

With a growl to rival a mountain lion, she used her hands upon the rail to brace herself and push back as hard as she could. The man pinning her to the railing seemed just as confused; both were wondering which adversary had been shot, but as the seconds ticked by, Maisie’s concentration gave her an edge. She lifted both her legs, precariously leaned over the edge again, her head whooshing. The man fell for the bait as she struggled, using his booted foot in an attempt to pin her jeans to the ground just as Jaeger had done in the woods a few days ago.

As soon as she felt the slight pressure, she kicked her feet back, trapping his leg between hers and using her jeans as a sort of binding. The man grunted, thundering footsteps drawing near; she had no time to waste.Please let this work, don’t let me die, she chanted in her mind. Though, she thought, if she did, at least it was here and now; on her own terms, with all those who’d wronged her rotting and Lindsay stuck where not even her precious daddy could save her anymore.

She yanked up fast, and the man being top-heavy, he stumbled forward quickly, crashing into her before his slippery hands flailed and attempted to grab the railing. It was too late; with his forward momentum and substantial weight, he slid across her back with nothing to hold onto, nothing to catch him—except her.

With a scream to rival her last, they both slid over the railing, but his grubby fingers couldn’t make purchase. Adrenaline coursing through her, she clung to the bars, legs dangling above the concrete below, the drop one that would claim her life if she slipped at all. The resounding thud and cracking of bones had her eyes stuck wide; her attacker was dead, but she dared not look down.

The door to the stairwell burst open, and before she could panic, Jaeger stood there like some sort of demonic savior. Blood spatters painted his face in palomino dots, but he otherwise seemed unscathed, and the tears and relief rushed forward with a sob. His own eyes widened as he stormed forward and dropped to his knees, her fingers aching from clutching the slippery bars. She could already feel her grip loosening.

“Jaeg-Jaeg—” she panted in utter fear.

“I got ya, Mais, promise. I ain’t ever gonna let ya fall.”

His words soothed her to a degree, but as he stood up and bent his top half over the railing, she became frozen in place. What if he dropped her? What if she slipped? How painful would death be if she landed like that? Would she die instantly, or would it drag out?

“Maisie Jane, you look me in the eyes and nowhere else, or so help me God when I get ya back over here I’ll belt your ass again.”

She snapped her jaw shut and obeyed with a few harried nods, the draft from below cooling her tears.

“Hold tight, and I’ll grab your wrist, and my other will go under your pit, got it?”

“I—I’m sweaty!” she cried.

“Christ, woman,” he said with a shake of his head and a slight smirk. “Only you would worry ‘bout somethin’ like that right now.”

His humor in such a tense situation soothed her rather than frightened her. She supposed that was how he was intrinsically; afraid of nothing, level-headed and calm. It added to the mystery of him but it sang to her as well. She needed a man to be her shelter in the rest of her storms, and Jaeger was it.

Reaching over, he did as he’d said.

“Alright, baby, let go on three and I pull ya over.”

With a whimper, she nodded.

“One,” he breathed, and she stared into his peridot eyes, seeing them anew. “Two,” he coaxed, the planes of his face somehow serious yet still playful, even when coated in another’s blood and holding her above a drop that would kill her. He was sexy as sin and tempting as the devil himself, and she could still feel his slickness between her legs.

“Three,” he grunted, tugging her up and over as fast as he could as she let go, her chest and stomach raking over the top of the railing, the pain nothing to her. She’d endured much worse. They stumbled back, colliding with each other and the wall, her shaking hands splayed on his broad chest, his skin warm and his heart thumping harder than hers. Breathing heavily, it took them both a moment to stare into one another’s eyes and know they were alive, intact.

Jaeger was the first to react, encircling her in his arms, pulling her into a crushing embrace and burying his face in her hair before she released a sob of relief.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, Maisie Jane. Love ya too much to walk this world without ya.”

She could only nod against him as she sobbed, clinging to his shirt and jacket, the scent of leather soothing her. It was all him, the scent of masculinity, not the smell of tepid coffee and paper and ink like a white collared worker. Jaeger was too wild to be tamed by a steady income, to be confined by the prison of a cubicle, and it was that realization that struck her deep in her heart.

But the words still stuck in her throat.

Jaeger

Present Day

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