Page 41 of Collateral Damage

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” She’s gripping the tree, holding onto it for dear life as she conceals the aftermath of my bite.

“Yes!…” There is allurement in the way she responds to me that’s making me fucking ache. I don’t know what’s gotten into me but I could draw that helplessness out of her all day every day. She sounds so pretty crying out for me like apuppy.

Who knew teasingmy Innocencewould prove to let out some pent-up steam. I’ve not felt this nourished in months and I’ve not even had to take her life to gain it. Those cries are feeding me plenty. I push on my feet to stand, towering over her from behind and everything inside me wants to tear that skimpy lace dress off her needy little body and show her just how easily I can make her feel. Feelme. But I won't. She’s myplaything,but I still have my own rules, and she doesn’t fucking deserve it.

“Stand up.” I hold her shoulder to help pull her body weight into me, my rock form catching her as she stumbles on her feet trying to find balance on her infirm legs, tugging her dress back down to erase her prudishness. Her hands are slumped at her sides and my fingers line her exposed skin, running down each arm until I reach her wrists, pulling them behind her to meet each of my pockets and she grabs them instinctively withoutdemand. She knows exactly what this meansand she just did it willingly.

“What does this mean,Puppet?” Her breathing is irregular, trying to spit out those disgusting words as she wobbles against my torso.

“I’m your bit -....” her voice fades into the whispers between the trees, sending her ugly words down wind.

“Didn’t quite catch that.” I lean to accommodate her height, towering over the left side of her face, listening closer to her ill confession as my lips graze that spot behind her ear.

“I’m yourbitch…” She swallows her pride, rolling her eyes trying to keep her head up.

“Good girl…”She’s exhausted. And understandably so. This can be a lot for someone who reads books and stays well away from the 100m run in college. I don’t think she will even remember these words when she wakes tomorrow. She’s too high off dopamine to realise what she’s actually doing. Your mind craves the most peculiar antidote when trying to cure unexplainable suffering. A pain not controllable. A pain with no cure.

Her legs give way, reaching for my jacket for support and I hold her up with one hand.“Easy thereLove.” The adrenaline is wearing off and she's beginning to shake like a leaf again. I remove my jacket, resting it over her shoulders before picking her up off the floor, looping my forearm under her legs and she's a ball of mush curled up in my chest. After everything I've done, everything she knows, she seems more comfortable now than she ever has done and it's my fault. She wanted me to snap yet I'm cradling her in my arms and her gentle huffs against my white shirt are calming me.

She's become my oxygen tank.

??

Play - ‘Chance with you – Mehro’

Icarried her all the way back and she was out for the count. She's lost, and I'm taking it upon myself to help comfort her when I should be telling her to get a fucking back bone. Something is different.She's different. I can feel my walls collapsing and it's out of my control, she's tearing them down. She encompasses a power I fear.

Love.

She loves things that don't deserve it. She feels so heavily that her body is shutting down. It doesn’t know how to cope with feeling at peace. She internally battles against a raging war she bleeds onto paper and the silence is killing her. She cannot cope without it. Her mind is protecting her heart and in doing so she's forgetting how to function. She's learning why I do what I do. Why I chase for pain, for death like a reward. But with her it's not the same. Her pain only rips out the mercy inside of me. I am merciful with her and her alone.But why?

I'm laying in bed next to her, God knows why, staring at her wrapped up like a cocoon for what feels like hours and I think I could draw her blindfolded if given half the chance. She groans softly, rolling about in her semi-conscious state and my throat knots as she mumbles my name underneath her gentle breath.

“Hays…”Even half asleep she's calling out for me and I'm indecisive whether that is a good or bad thing, but it makes my heart constrict. I can actually feel it beating inside my broken rib cage. I suddenly love my name in her mouth.I want her to say it again.

“Right hereLittle Dreamer.”As I suspected, she rises from the bed completely dazed, gawking at me in utter confusion. Like she blacked out and forgot her previous endeavours.“Is that you in there? Or am I looking at a ghost?” She scrunches her face atme, trying to make sense of my words and that realisation finally smacks her in the face.

“Oh my god.”She rips the duvet off her to reveal she's still in her now muddy nightgown and scowls at me.

“Don't worryPrincess. I have human decency.” By the look on her face she doesn't seem to think so, but then punishing her for trying to escape a convicted murderer isn't exactly what the average person would describe as human decency. Nevertheless, I enjoyed myself and I know she did too. Human decency would be letting her go. But I'm afraid I cannot allow that.

“You're a perv…” She throws her pillow in gentle anguish against my chest, trying to muster up just a tablespoon of remorse but she's a terrible liar and I can see straight through those puppy dog eyes and her rosy little cheeks.

“And you're a very good listener.” She isn't amused. And I know she's meant to look angry but she looks like a feisty kitten. She's struggling to keep her eyes open and that could be a mix of many things but something tells me she's not just tired. “What's wrong?” She glances at me with a puzzled look on her face. A mixture of disbelief and audacity for different reasons.

“My sugar levels… they are just low, is all.” All that adrenaline must have soaked it up like a sponge. And she was a good girl and told me straight.

Without hesitation I get up and head to the kitchen. Grabbing various sweet treats that have accumulated in the cupboard in the last few weeks. If my sperm donor was here to see this he'd turn in his grave. God forbid mom gave me a chocolate bar. She ended up having to hide them from him or he'd throw her money in the bin. Her weary eyes light up without her knowledge as I walk into the room with the goods, handing them to her and I'll never get tired of watching her eat. She's like a kid at Christmas, scoffing cookies and actually smiling.

“These remind me of my favourite chocolate.” She's chowing down like a cow and it's bringing out her dimples again.God dammit.

“Oh? Do tell.” I plant my ass back down next to her. Giving her a side eye as my head rests against the metal bar, taking her stuffed elephant and planting it in my lap as I fiddle with its arms.

“Hersheys.” She doesn't seem at all phased by the last hour's antics, either that or she's hiding it well.

“Sorry. We are all out of Hersheys.” My arms are now crossed, death gripping her elephant teddy as I stare at the ceiling. Grinning at my stupid humour.

“Get out of it!” Her pathetic strength punches my biceps in a playful manner and a fly could have hit me harder. But I won't have that. I grasp her wrist, flipping myself until my entire body weight is laying heavy on top of her, pinning her firmly to the bed as she grips the cookie tightly in her restrained hand. The curvature or her tiny little waist sits perfectly against the curve of my knees and I scan her with my dead expression. She's frozen like a deer in headlights. She will learn her violence will always be counteracted by my strength. But I'll build that strength. We have all the time in the world. And until I can sort out this transport issue to get my ass out of here, I've nothing better to do.

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