Page 43 of Collateral Damage

“Do you have a brush?” She doesn't respond, only vanishes for a moment and I hear a draw open from the far bedroom.Her bedroom. Before walking back in holding one in her hand. I take it, carefully, like it's made of glass and give her a subtle smile. It feels wrong to use it but she's trusting me with it.

I struggle to untangle my knotted nest, fighting to run the comb through it before my wrist is clamped shut with her fingers, gently pulling the brush from mine and my heart warms. She takes the bristles and begins at the bottom of my hair, slowly working her way up, being delicate not to hurt me.We wallow in the serenity, embracing this moment, taking ourselves somewhere else for a while as I close my eyes until my hairs knot free, she places the brush down on her chest of draws, running her hand through my sea of hair and down my back so gently I can barely feel her hands on me and my body shudders, rolling an electric shock through my bones.What the hell was that?

We crawl into bed and she lays on her side as usual. But tonight, I don't think I want her to. I shuffle discreetly until we’re practically touching but she keeps her hands to herself. My body is practically buzzing with this gravitational pull and I don't understand it. I should be repulsed but I can feel my temperature rising. This anticipation is eating away at me like a virus.I want her to put her hands on me.She loops her hand around my waist like she can read my thoughts, pulling my featherweight body into her torso and my heart immediately slows down. I feel calm.

I feel,

safe.

I think we both needed this closure. This closeness. Tomorrow we can carry on hating one another, but for right now, this.

This is nice.

C H A P T E R 26

COPING METHODS

Puppeteer

It's been quite a few days since our antics in the woods and I've refrained from speaking about it but I can't get that image out of my head.Her. Bent over for me like a goodLittle Puppet. She's submissive at heart and part of me loves it. Her walls are cracking and soon, soon I'll have her exactly where I want her. She's making it extremely difficult to keep my hands off her. It's like she's purposely been dangling herself in front of me. Wearing nothing but her pants and my T-shirts. I suppose I should do a shop run for her at some point but I've never enjoyed shopping and I don't plan on starting now. What does asunflowerlike her even wear? I'll just have to endure this torture until I can break her. She will crack and I'll show her exactly what she is really craving.

Me.

My boot breaches the front door with a bag and I’m getting army tackled by Shep as she sits reading the book I took for her with her feet up on my coffee table like she owns the joint. But I'm glad to see her looking more comfortable, as bored as she is.

I put the bag by her feet but she's fixated on me, glaring at me like the first time we met.

Play - ‘The Beach - The Neighbourhood’

“Your- your arms-”I suppose I've become too comfortable.

“You should see the other guy.” I grin like a sinner, peering down at the blood smothering my skin, noticeable even over my tattoos. This one got a little messy, but I took what I needed and I'm one step closer to getting the hell out of here. Hell, I may even take myplaythingwith me.

“Will you ever stop?” I wish I could say yes. But I can't. I don't have it in me.

“Do you want me out of your hair?” She's mute, frowning at me with adorable frustration.“That's what I thought…” She knows everything now. It's up to her whether she wants to come to terms with what I do and deal with it. Or we can go back to square one.“Open the bag.” I'm trying to make amends here. The quicker she gets over my ways of living the quicker we can move on.

“I'm not hungry…” Her arms cross, peering up at me and I sigh heavily.

“Just- open it.” We exchange a heated glance, holding it, until she reaches slowly for the bag, frightful of me which I find highly ironic considering she's been needing for my physical touch every night since our littlegame. Does she think I haven't clocked onto the way her body responds to my presence? We've gone from a pillow fort to a closed space at night.

She pulls from the bag and the little girl inside her comes out, holding onto a bar of chocolate.

“Where did you?-” I suppose she is rubbing off on me. But I couldn't help myself.

“Merry Christmas.” I mock. I managed to find one at my nearest gas station. Hershey’s was a rare delicacy for me so she better be bloody grateful.

“Thank you…” I've never seen her open something so fast in my life.“Do you celebrate?” Does she mean holidays?

“What?” I walk over to cleanse myself clean. It took far too long to track the bastard down, I suppose I let my anger get thebest of me and his face got the brunt of it. It did nothing for me, all I could picture was her god damn face and he wasn't even my average target. He was just an identity I was stealing. I almost thought about letting him walk too.What the fuck has gotten into me?

“Christmas?” She asks, I shake off my recent endeavours, wanting to vomit in my mouth at the word.

“God no.” Christmas is the last thing I want to be thinking about and I can't escape it when I venture beyond these four walls. It's plaguing the streets and I can't wait for it to be over. Christmas morning is four days away.

“Yeah…I was never much of a fan either. But my mom. She'd cook these really nice shortbread biscuits, and make me help her decorate the tree. She was always awful at it.” She breaks a chunk off, laughing to herself as she glares at the ceiling picturing her perfect little life to keep herself sane. I clamp my eyes shut, pushing my guilt down and swallowing it. She probably doesn't even know what day it is.

“I'm sure it looked beautiful.” I'll just play along. For right now I'll let her reminisce if it makes her feel better.

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