Chapter 29

I couldn't tell if my eyes were open, not with the thick, inky black clouding everything around me. The burnt aroma of cigarette smoke filled my nose, and all the little hairs on my arms stood on end.

"You crossed a line, Jessie." Drake's voice echoed from somewhere behind, just as dark and twice as terrifying.

I froze, too afraid to move. My heart, however, tried to run. It beat against my ribs in frantic, desperate attempts to break free.

"What do you think I should do?" His footsteps slowly approached, like a pendulum. Tap. Tap. Tap.

I tensed, readying myself for what I knew was coming. The smell of the smoke grew stronger, and my back burned in anticipation. A traitorous whimper slipped past my lips.

Not again.

"Are you afraid?" It was fun for him. Every time. Always. So much fun.

I knew not to fight back, not to run, not to call out for help. It would only make it worse. The sick fuck would only enjoy it more.

His steps drew to a stop right beside me. His body heat seemed too warm, his familiar scent too strong. It was the same cologne he always wore, but to me, it smelled like pain.

"You fucked up extra bad this time, Jessie." The fury I knew laid just beneath his surface leaked out into the words. "You fucked up really fucking bad..." Rough hands yanked my shirt up.

I squeaked and huddled in on myself. Be small. Be a harder target. Protect your face. It was always the same. It would always come back to this. There was no escape.

"You know..." he started. "Every time you force me to do this, it only makes me angrier." He ran his palm across my skin, tracing each scar. "You think I like fucking up my things?" The cherry of the cigarette made contact, sizzling as its red, hot fire sunk into my already mangled back.

My teeth pierced my lip as I bit back a scream.

"You think I enjoy making you uglier and uglier?" Again, different spot, same agonizing burn. It was too much. I lost the battle. My screams broke free and echoed out into the darkness.

Drake chuckled. "I do love to hear you scream, though."

Again, harder this time, right into the fresh ink, excruciating. Burning plastic wrap and flesh filled my nose, choked me. I screamed again, louder, so hard my throat could bleed.

"Tequila!" Bard call out, distant, far away, too far away to help.

"He can't save you, you know. I'm going to kill him. Hell! I'm gonna kill all of them, and you're going to watch. Maybe, I'll even have you help." Again, right onto the healing tattoo. The sizzle all too familiar. The pain too much. Another  anguished scream ripped out of me.

"Tequila!" Someone shook me.

I woke with a start. Bard looked down at me, eyes wide, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

I scrambled away from the offending item and backed into the far wall.

Bard held up his hands. "It's okay. You were having another nightmare." His voice was soft, like how someone would coax a frightened animal.

I eyed the cigarette, the dream still vivid. My mind couldn't wrap around the fact that it wasn't real. It had felt so real, everything, the pain. How couldn't it have been real?  I looked to my shoulder, and the ink was just as I'd left it, no burns, nothing unusual. My hand drifted to my back but still found nothing.

Bard studied me, taking in every motion. "It's done, Tequila. We took care of it. No one is coming." He moved closer.

"No." I jumped up and scrambled off the mattress, ran down the hall to the kitchen sink, then pulled the lever and splashed cool water onto my face.

"Tequila..."

"Stop." I held a hand up without turning to look at him. "Don't say they're not coming, because they are."

He was quiet a long moment. "You're right."

I turned. Bard had his arms across his chest, shoulder leant against the door frame. It reminded me of the morning he'd caught me stealing his breakfast. His head had the same tilt, his eyes that same intensity, the same one that always seemed to take in way too much. "Are you ready?"

The question caught me off guard, and it took a moment for me to answer. "For what?" He couldn't mean the club. I'd never be ready for that.

"Its eight. Shop opens at eleven. We're gonna train for a couple hours." He pushed himself away from the wall and walked towards me.

"Train?"

"Yes, I'm going to teach you how to fight, remember?" He was standing right in front of me now, and I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.

"Today? Are you serious? After everything..."

Bard cut me off. "That's all the more reason to start as soon as possible."

After a minute's worth of thought, I nodded. He was right. At the very least, I could use a distraction. "Okay. Just let me change."

I watched him walk away before moving to grab a change of clothes, and settled for a pair of shorts and a t shirt.

When I stepped outside, Bard was waiting. His eyes landed on my legs, then slowly made their way up until his gaze met mine. His jaw clenched. "Why are you wearing that?"

I looked down at my clothes. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

He eyed my legs again. "Don't you have anything... more..." He paused. "Jeans or something?"

"All of my jeans are dirty," I answered. "If you want, we can wait. I didn't realize my legs frightened you so much."

Bard looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. Instead, he pulled his hair back into a bun and in a gruff voice said, "Let's get started then."

I smirked. "Are you sure? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

He ignored me. "Stand here." He pointed to the spot just in front of him, and I begrudgingly complied. "I'm going to attack you. You defend yourself."

I took in all six-foot five inches of him and lifted an eyebrow. "You do realize you are a fucking giant, right?"

Once again, ignored. "Get ready."

I braced myself, waiting for his move. Bard slung an arm out so fast I couldn't even think about reacting. It came across my chest, at the same time his leg swept behind my knees. His opposite arm cradled my back and lowered me gently to the ground. "That was awful," he said, looking down at my defeated form lying in the dirt.

I glared at him. "I wasn't ready."

He held a hand out to me, but I ignored it and got myself up. I stood back in place and tried to push aside my wounded pride.

"Okay, then you attack me." Bard stood like he didn't have a care in the world, arms hung loose at his sides, face impassive but for the slight tilt to his lips, so small, I couldn't even be sure that it was there.

Now he's just pissing me off.

I needed to catch him off gaurd. It was the only way. He was gigantic, one that probably almost tripled my body weight.

"Any day, Tequila."

I swung at him.

He ducked and grabbed my legs, hands dangerously high up on my thighs.

Electricity hit me like a lightening bolt, but before I knew it, the contact was gone, and I was, once again, back on the ground.

Bard looked down at me. "That wasn't any better."

I scrambled back to my feet. "Fine! What should I do then?"

Bard smirked. "Well, first off, you shouldn't stand like this." He bent down in front of me and grabbed my legs. The feel of this familiar  hands rough against my skin made it hard to focus on what he was showing me. He readjusted my stance. "You need to keep your legs apart, perpendicular to your opponents." He cupped my calf and moved my leg over. His touch lingered a moment, and as he drew back, it felt more like a caress.

I pretended not to notice.

Bard stood and took both my wrists. "Keep your non dominant hand near your eye, your dominant hand near your chin." He lifted my hands and positioned them like he'd indicated.

All I could do was nod. My throat was too damn dry, and language was nothing more than a distant memory.

Bard's eyes stayed glued to mine for a long moment, his hands still holding my wrists, before finally, he took a step back. "Now, I'm going to attack you, but I'll let you know what I'm doing, and I'll show you how you should react."

Another nod. Damn, I must look dumb. My cheeks were burning. God, I was blushing. I took a deep breath and tried to focus. Stop it, stop it, stop it. You don't blush.

"If someone comes at you, like this for instance." Bard came towards me, again. He was close, too close. "You're gonna grab my head and get a good grip on my hair."

I looked up and made a face at him. "You got a ladder?"

He grinned. "You can reach."

I lifted myself onto my tiptoes and just managed to grab either side of his head. It put us even closer and forced me to have to stretch my body out flat against his. "Like this?" I asked, voice low.

Bard had me locked into those deep green eyes once again. They drilled into me, branded me. "Yes." It was only one word, but the way he said it made it so much more than that.

"Now, get a good grip and pull my head down," he said, voice hoarse.

I did as he asked. My fingers dug into his hair. Just as soft as I remembered. I pulled a little out of the bun and gripped it between my fingers before pulling him downwards.

"That's good," he murmured. "Now, you're gonna bring your leg up." He cupped the back of my thigh, then slowly lifted my knee towards his face. "You'll pull down and lift that knee at the same time," he said. He pulled it closer, so close his lips lightly brushed against my skin.

I pulled away. "That seems easy." My heart raced, and my stupid face felt ready to combust. I didn't like it. Any of it. Why did this man elicit such a strong response in me? I'd been around plenty of good looking guys, tons of them. I'd always prided myself on the fact that I didn't act like most of the girls I'd seen.

"It's basic self defense." He straightened. "What you need to learn is a lot more than that."

"Okay, so what now?" I was almost reluctant to ask. I wanted to get away, give myself time to breathe, space to gather my resolve, but I needed to do this. Plus, it was a good distraction. I looked at Bard.

Very distracting, inner Jessie purred.

"Turn around. I'm going to attack you from behind."

"Nah, I'm good." I took a step back.

Bard studied me. "It's important. These are all basic things you need to learn."

I swallowed hard. There was no way for me to explain my unwillingness, without also admitting to my attraction. Not like he didn't know, but I wasn't about to admit how bad it was. I nodded and turned so my back was to him.

Bard stepped up and wrapped both arms around me, one on my waist, the other on my chest. He rested his chin onto my left shoulder, and murmured, "When someone grabs you like this..." Goosebumps coated my skin. "You're going to yank your arms free and put an elbow into their face." His breath caressed the side of my neck. I was acutely aware of him, every hard plain, every muscle pressed against me. I stood there, doing nothing, frozen.

"Jessie..." he prompted, but the way he said my name only made the situation worse. "Lift an elbow up as if to hit me in the face with it."

I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus, before finally doing like he'd asked.

Bard cupped my elbow gently. "That's good." His tone had deepened, even more so than usual.

He made no move to back away, and I held my breath.

"Bard?" An unfamiliar voice called, and just like that, the spell was broken.

Bard broke away, and we both turned at the same time.

A woman stood, hair a shade of auburn too rich to be natural. She had a strong face, not masculine but defined. It spoke of finery even though her clothes spoke of the opposite.

Bard tilted his head. "Amber?"

She smiled. "I'm sorry to show up like this, but..." her voice grew hoarse, and she paused. "Daddy died."

The moment she spoke the words, Bard walked away, closed the gap between them and wrapped her in a tight embrace.

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