Redd

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The entire ride back, all I could do was think about the dangers that lurked around the woman I brought home. She was teetering on the edge of a black hole, threatening to pull me down right along side her. She was the weight, and I was the rope barely holding her up.

And that thought, it turned my insides raw.

For years, I was the barbwire that kept danger out. My sister was safe with me, I protected her. That was my job, that was why I was still here.

I didn't want this, I didn't want to insert myself into the middle of some torrid execution. But that's exactly what I did.

That girl was on the brink of death, tortured in ways I could never imagine. I could see it in every ounce of her being. With her thin limbs, her sunken cheeks, her dull locks that were knotted and mangled. Her skin was pale, the only color was blushed pockmarks of past and present bruises.

I didn't like finding her that way. The second I locked eyes on her, all I wanted to do was drag her out of the fire.

It was hard for me to deny that I liked what I had done a bit too much. Slipping in, taking something that wasn't mine; it felt good in the moment, a rush purged my veins and turned me wicked.

But that glorified feeling quickly faded. And now I was angry. I was pissed that her very existence in my home could cause a ripple effect.

The engine hummed as I sat in the driveway, trying to settle my nerves so I didn't do something I'd regret. I knew what beast laid dormant inside, I knew what could happen if I didn't stifle the anger and use my fucking head.

I'd see red, I'd lose it. And once I passed that point, once the beast took shape and gained access to my muscles. . . That girl wouldn't stand a chance.

Because this wasn't just about me, it wasn't just about my safety and what might come nipping at my heels. I had someone who depended on me, the only flesh and blood I had left on this earth. The loyalty I had didn't fall on the woman I stole.

My sister comes first. Period.

Drawing in warm air from the vent on my dashboard, I exhaled even hotter air, fogging up the window. I did that same motion again and again, creating a thick layer of carbon monoxide on the glass.

It's time for answers.

Gripping the handle, I opened the door and walked with slow strides up to my house. Listening to the wind, I watched the silhouettes of the trees as they rocked and swayed behind my house. Their shadows danced over the lawn, moving in tandem with the thin blades.

The first time I laid eyes on this place, I thought it was perfect. Tucked away from everything, quiet, and peaceful. It was completely different from the home I grew up in.

So I bought it. It was going to make our lives better. And right then, better seemed farther away than the sun in the sky. I hated the feeling of dread that came over me as I walked to the door. I hated the knot in my gut and the tension in my muscles as I thought about going inside.

That woman had tainted my home. She filled it with everything I wanted to escape.

You made a choice, no blame falls on that woman.

She didn't come to you, you went to her.

My gut clenched, turning upside down. My palms grew sweaty and clammy the more I let it sink in that it was my choices that did this. Not that woman. Me.

You opened that door, you killed that guy, you stole her.

I did this.

I did this. . .

I repeated that over and over in my head. Everything I was about to face stemmed from my greed.  I couldn't stomach that an action of mine could create a tidal wave of backlash, and my sister could be swept into the undertow because of something I wanted.

A new enemy took shape. And that was one thing I wouldn't tolerate.

With my head down, I flipped through my keys, searching for the one to the house. Positioning the key between my thumb and forefinger, I lifted it to the handle. Stopping in mid air, I looked through the tattered screen and right into my living room.

This was closed when I left. . .

The main door was open wide, allowing the cold, winter air to slip seamlessly through my home. Loose papers rattled like flapping wings, getting blown across the floor as a gust of wind pushed them around.

Cautiously, I opened the storm door, doing my best to not make a sound. Reaching into the back of my pants, I gripped the handle of the gun, fluttering my finger over the trigger.

Shit. . . Did they find us?

Was that possible?

No, no it can't be. No one followed us, I'm sure of it.

My chest constricted, tightening with an uneasiness that shook me to the core. I thought of the girl I left alone, of how I had walked out this morning, leaving  her defenseless and open to whoever might come looking for her.

I knew deep down that taking her from that place wouldn't end there. I knew it, and I still did it anyway.

Fuck! What the hell was I thinking?

Why did I just leave her here alone?

Stepping inside, I glanced around, expecting to see an unknown man in a suit, casually reclined on my couch, with the young girl tucked under his arm, petting her hair.

I found nothing close to that.

My home was in complete disarray. Cupboards in the kitchen were open wide, the counters were littered with fallen food and dinnerware. The living room looked like it was hit by the same tornado. Couch cushions were on the floor, the few pictures I had set up were knocked over and smashed. The drawers on the entertainment center were thrown open, spilling their insides like guts onto the carpet.

A tremor scaled down over my spine, the nervous energy curling around my ankles and holding me to the floor. My feet felt like dead weight as I wobbled in place, afraid that my ego had gotten the better of me, and I had fucked up royally.

Fuck, what hell did I do?

Cupping my jaw, I opened and closed my mouth, grunting with frustration. It was stupid for me to just leave and not take any precautions. I was certain no one had followed us. Even with the carnage I left in that house, I thought my identity would remain a mystery, they didn't know who I was.

I was wrong.

They found her. They found her and took her back.

The mess in front of me was a clear sign that she hadn't gone down without a fight. That small frail woman had used whatever energy she had left to try and get away.

Fuck! I shouldn't have left her here all alone like that.

Standing in a daze, my fists clenched by my side as a fiery heat surged up my neck, making me see red. I wanted to find that motherfucker and kill him myself. I wanted to charge into his home, guns blazing, ready to look him in the eye as I put a bullet in his head.

Just imagining what he might do to that girl because of what happened, it turned me sour. I didn't feel relief that he had taken her back, or that she wouldn't be my problem anymore.

All I felt was shame and hatred at myself for not thinking more clearly and protecting her like I should have.

“Damn it! Fuck!” Turning around, I wiped the sweat off my forehead, stewing about what my next step should be.

What the hell do I do? Should I go back and find her?

I shouldn't have even gone there the first time, I was lucky I made it out alive. Doing it a second time. . . That was asking to die.

I killed to protect once, and for some reason, I did it again for the woman I found. I didn't think about it, I didn't step back and wipe my hands clean, turning my back on her. I had killed for her.

Why?

It was the right thing to do.

But it was something else that drove me to take her. Like if I didn't, I'd never be able to get her out of my head. She'd sit there day after day and taunt me in my dreams.

She needed someone too, she needed someone on her side.

I have to help her. . .

Heavy feet pounded down the hallway, drawing my attention up. The gun against my back burned my skin as I secured my finger on the trigger and waited. My eyes were wide open, muscles tensed and ready to draw at the first sign of life.

A small shadow washed the wall as the woman came bursting out the end, baring her teeth. She looked feral, her eyes glazed over, face red and flushed.

Thank God she's alright.

Throwing up my hands, I yelled, “Whoa, stop! It's just me!”

She didn't hear me. I could see it on her face that she wasn't listening. Nothing registered inside her head. Her eyes zeroed in on me, jaw squared and grinding as she growled a sound that came deep from within her throat.

“What are you doing? Hold on, stop!.” I took a long step back, trying to create some distance so she could see it was me and not whoever had destroyed my home. “It's me, it's just me!”

“I fucking hate you! You can't keep me here, I'm not yours!” she screeched through clenched teeth, turning her eyes into tight slits.

I couldn't understand where this was coming from. All I could think was that she had finally cracked, her brain had split open, and whatever abuse she had suffered had caused this extreme reaction. Whatever creature had built up inside was finally free, and she was releasing it on me.

“Whoa!” I yelled, holding out my hands. “That's not what this is, I'm not holding you captive.”

Grunting, her heels slammed down hard with every step, eyes dark and cloudy. “Bull-shit. You're a fucking liar, just like him, you all fucking lie!”

Shaking my head, I bounced my hands in the air. “I don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about. Who's him?”

Her shoulders rolled with poise, elongating her neck. “I'm not doing this again, I'm not staying trapped anymore.” Taking in a slow breath, an audible growl purred off her tongue. “I'm going to kill you, just like you killed him.”

Her thin arm came up hard over her head as the serrated edge of a blade caught my eye. Wielding a steak knife, she flailed her arm through the air, face twisted and anguished, tears streaming down like a flood over her cheeks.

Throwing herself forward, she lunged at me. It didn't seem like she had any particular point on my body that she was aiming for. The knife swept by my chest, the tip pierced the air and danced with my shirt.

Grunts and wild animal sounds spilled from her mouth as her pupils turned into pinpricks, caught in a frenzy of emotions. Her cheeks were wet, thin veins webbed her skin like small rivers on a map as her muscles throbbed. She was shaking violently, trembling from head to toe.

The fragile skeleton danced across my living room, undernourished and paper-thin, moving like a hungry cheetah, death and destruction in her eyes.

Jumping back, I reacted, grabbing her wrist that carried the blade, and sinking my thumb into the pressure point at the base of her palm. The knife dropped to the floor with a soft thump as she let out a battle cry I didn't think her small lungs could ever make.

“AH!” she screamed, throwing her shoulders forward and grabbing her hand. Shaking out the twinge of pain from her wrist, her mouth snarled. “You killed him! You killed my father!”

The words cut through the air, smashing against my chest like a million razor blades. “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, holding up my arms to protect my face from her nails as she clawed the air around me.

Glass cracked under her bare feet as she stomped over the broken picture frames on the floor. She didn't flinch or register the shards cutting into her heels, she kept moving forward with purpose-fueled anger.

Shaking her head, she held her fingers curled like the talons of a hawk. “I saw your eyes when you killed Dom last night, I saw the gleam of pleasure as you stole his life. You knew about who I was didn't you?!” Her nails clawed the air, swinging at my face. “You want him to die, don't you?! You like the way it feels to kill, I can see it. You're a sick fucking bastard, and I won't let you get away with this. ”

How can she say that? I helped her, I freed her!

Anger began to bubble in my chest, the accusation feeding past rage and hatred that I kept safely locked away—until now.

I've only killed to save. . . Never to hurt.

“Don't you dare judge me! You have no fucking clue, you could never understand!” My voice boomed over her cries, drowning her out and hammering her into the floor.

Taking a quick step towards her, my lip twitched with cruel, unforgiving malice. The feelings that came over me, the level of rage that consumed me right then, I had felt it only once before.

And I hated it.

But there was nothing I could do to stop it, nothing I could do to shut it off. Something had snapped inside my head, flipping the switch that taunted my demons. My fists clenched tight, nails digging into my palms with bred evil.

I was past the point of pulling back, I had crossed the threshold of sanity and stood in the pit of fire.

The girl held her ground, arching her neck to look up at me, her big brown eyes fluttering in the sockets. “I understand that you don't give a shit. You're probably happy about what you've done.” Her lips thinned as her jaw tensed. “I'm not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” I growled, looming over her weak frame. I was numb from head to toe, unable to focus on anything but her face.

Her full lower lip pouted, brows knitting with her own hate. “You killed him.” Lifting a single finger to my chest, she poked my heart. “You want to keep me locked up in here, you want to treat me like a fucking slave too—then his blood is on your hands. I bet that girl is here because you force her to be. Did you kill her father too?”

I lost it.

Bull-rushing forward, I grabbed her by the throat and lifted her off the ground, carrying her clear across the room. Pressing her against the door, my eyes burned with pent up emotion and past memories.

Her body trembled as I watched the confidence she had just embrace shatter and fall to the floor. My hands buzzed, thumb stroking the lump that had formed in her throat. “Is this what you want? Do you want to die?”

The girl didn't move. Her eyes grew wider and wider, pupils turning ash gray as her lids thinned, exposing bright white orbs. Small beads of sweat burst over her forehead, her skin cool to my touch as the lump wriggled against the pad of my thumb.

“Just do it.”Her voice came out raspy and thick. “I'm not afraid to die.”

I watched her change. A slow blink erased the fear I thought I had seen, replacing it with something else. Amber colored eyes plucked at my heart, leaving me  to wonder what she had really gone through.

I didn't really believe her, no one would ask for a such a harsh end.

“Lying won't save you.” Leaning in closer, I whispered the words against her cheek. “We're all afraid to die, even you.”

Veering my stare, I applied more pressure to her neck. Her pulse picked up, beating faster and faster under my touch. Drawing her tongue over her bottom lip, she pulled her eyes from mine and looked up at the ceiling.

Digging my fingers into her skin, I growled through clenched teeth. I felt her esophagus thin, I heard her breathing grow faint. Her eyes glossed over, bulging from the sockets as small red veins crawled out from the corners.

Stop this!

What are you doing, Redd!?

This isn't you! This is not who you wanted to become!

I stopped squeezing, keeping her in limbo as I struggled with myself.

Let her go, just let her go.

Her lips swelled as she swallowed hard, coaxing her throat against my palm. Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to drop her, and watched her body fall to the floor, curling up into itself.

I would do a lot of things to her. . . But taking her life wasn't one of them.

Rocking back and forth, she cradled her knees, tucking her chin between her legs as she started to weep.

Shit. What the hell did I just do?

What is wrong with me?

How could I have done that to her? You know how. . . It's built into who you are.

She didn't deserve that, she's been through fucking hell and I just held her over the flames.

My heart hurt seeing her so distraught. All the rage I felt melted away as she wilted against the wall like a dying flower.

This is my fault.

Petal after petal fell away. Her once velvet smooth skin now appeared dull and brittle from suffering. Whatever pieces of hope she had clutched to her chest, pierced the ground on raindrop shaped tears.

I shattered her.

Dropping to my haunches, I fisted my hair and tugged at the roots. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.”

I waited for her to respond, to yell at me, to scream again; but she stayed silent, tears falling one at a time as she gazed blankly at the floor.

“I didn't mean to scare you.”

She swallowed hard, forcing the red fingerprint shaped spots on her neck to puff up. The skin on her throat was slightly swollen, indents of where I had held her tight smacked me in the face.

“You didn't scare me.”

Dropping my eyes, I looked at the tips of her toes. I couldn't look at her anymore, it made me feel like such an asshole. You are an asshole.

“I wouldn't have killed you, I just—”

Cutting me off, her toes wriggled against the carpet. “I wish you would have.”

“What?” Snapping me eyes up, I arched a brow. “You don't really mean that.”

“What good is living anymore? Look at me?” Holding out her arms, the girl leaned forward. “I'm broken. I have nothing left. What the hell do I have to live for?”

“You shouldn't just give up like that. That's the easy way out. Why fight at all just to throw it all away?”

“What the hell would you know? You can't understand me, you have no fucking clue.” Her hand drifted back and forth over the carpet, light and gentle.

She looked empty. And I couldn't stand to see her like that.

“I know what I've been through and I haven't given up yet. I won't sit back and let you give up either.” There was a weakness in my voice, a sound that made me cringe. I was starting to feel for this girl, a thin thread built between us, connecting me to her.

I wanted to fix her, I wanted to do the same thing for her that I was doing for Vicki. Breathing new life into a soul that deserved to be happy.

My heart hammered inside my chest as I watched her. Her hair hung around her face, hiding her from me. Itchy fingers tingled by my side, tempted to push the hair away. I wanted to touch her and feel her, show her that I wasn't some sick pervert trying to hold her against her will.

But the feelings she was able to drum up inside of me, they were too deep. There was too much emotional buildup, too much that could burn me to the ground and leave me wounded if I let it grow out of control.

My body ached to touch her, to caress her, to stroke her swelled lips and massage her neck.

No, I can't do this. I just can't.

I couldn't handle it anymore. I was already responsible for one life, how could I take on another?

But the thought of something happening to this girl, it twisted my stomach and sliced my chest, making it hard breathe.

I don't know if I can do this. I have to protect Vicki, she's the one I need to be there for.

I was tempted to back up, open my door and tell her to run far away from me and never look back.

You can't send her away. That's the same as hanging her yourself.

“I never killed anyone who didn't deserve it, and I certainly didn't kill your father.”

Her small face lifted, eyes red and bloodshot, puffy and wet from crying. “You might not have killed him with your hands, but you'll be the reason for his death.”

“I don't understand what you mean.” Fiddling with my fingers, I let her talk. She needed to get it out, to spill whatever thoughts she had inside her head.

Tell me, tell me everything. Who am I protecting you from?

“He's going to kill him, he's going to kill him and it's all your fault!” Balling her fists, she lunged off the floor, pounding them against my chest, wildly crying out inaudible words and suicide screams. “Just kill me already! Stop the pain, I can't take anymore! Kill me too! Kill me and make it stop!”

“Calm down, take a breath.” Grabbing her wrists, I spun her around, wrapping her in a bear hug and holding her close. “Just calm down. Take a breath and relax.”

She tried to fight back, kicking her legs out and tensing the muscles in her arms. Sharp nails clawed the back of my hands, her head snapping back as if she was trying to use her skull as a weapon.

I didn't let go.

Damn, she's stronger than I thought.

Squeezing her tighter, I could feel the bones in her back as she arched forward and tried to jerk herself free. The joint in her wrist stabbed into the center of my palm as I pushed her hand into her lap. The piano keys of her ribs played my biceps, showing me just how depleted her body truly was.

This woman wasn't fighting with muscle, she was fighting with her soul.

Holding her firmly in my arms, I pressed my lips to her ear and hushed her like I used to do with Vicki when she was really little, and woke up from one of her night terrors. “Shh, shh, calm down, no one is going to die. Not you, not your father, I won't let that happen. You're safe now, shh.”

Rocking back and forth, I cradled her against my chest and let her sob. Her breathing was erratic, coming in loud and short exhales as tears rolled down her face and soaked the arm of my sweatshirt.

“He's going to kill him.” Her frame withered into my arms, breaking with the weight of her words. “And it's because of me, it's all because of me. I shouldn't have let you take me out of there.” Her voice crackled, loud and soft, smooth and harsh.

“That's not true and you know it. I couldn't have left you there like that. Do you really think you'd rather have had me just shut the door and walk away?”

I felt her body relax as her breathing leveled out, and her muscles fell weak and tired. She had fought for as long as her body could handle. There was no more energy flowing through her system to keep going. “That's exactly what you should have done.”

“Where he had you, how you were being treated. . .” Loosening my grip, I took a hand and started to brush it down over her head. “No one deserves that.” Running my fingers through her hair, I pulled apart some of the knots. “I think we can help each other, but you need to tell me everything.”

Lifting her arm to her nose, she wiped her wrist across her face. “I can't.”

Leaning to the side, I cupped her chin and forced her to look into my eyes. “I need answers. I have to keep my sister safe, I want to keep you safe. You need to tell me.”

Her eyes flicked between mine, a thousand words in her gaze but only a select few came out. “You took my chance to save him.”

“How? All I've done was take you from that hell. How does that hurt him?”

Her tone was soft, balancing on the thin edge of sadness. “You took the phone didn't you?”

Dropping my head into my chest, I darted my eyes around the room, taking in all the carnage. The closer I looked, the more aware I became of what I was actually seeing. My home wasn't tossed upside down from a battle between an angel and a demon. It was spilled open in a search.

“This was you, wasn't it?” My fingers worked through her hair, combing her frizzled locks.

She didn't answer, her head hung lower, dropping tears into her lap.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I tried to explain why I had made that decision. “I did take the phone, but not to keep you from your father. I only did it because I couldn't risk you calling someone and leading any of those assholes here. I did it to protect my sister and to protect you.”

Snapping her head up, she glared at me over her shoulder. “Those assholes are going to find me anyway, but they're going to kill my father first. . .” Pausing, she let her eyes fall to her hands, picking anxiously at the skin around the bed of her nails. “He's probably already dead.”

“You don't know that.” Sitting up straight, I pulled the young woman back against my chest. “You don't know that.”

I wanted to believe my own words. But in reality, she was probably right.

I had met men like Dominick and Val before, men that would stop at nothing to take what they deemed theirs. Men like that, they didn't care who got in the way. They just took and took and took, until they felt satisfied.

And the man in charge, he probably had an appetite that was deadly.

“All I want is to hear his voice one more time, that's it. What will I do if he's gone? What will happen to the rest of my family?”

There was no answer I could give that would console her. So I sat holding her, feeling her pain and distress, knowing exactly what she was experiencing.

I felt it. I lived it.

The loss, the hurt, the anguish, it created a knot in your gut and made you feel sick. You want to breathe, but you can't, you want to speak, but you have no voice. And that feeling, it can make you do things you'd never think possible.

Like fighting when you had nothing left to fight with—or killing someone.

“Why me?” she asked, her tone deflated and full of so much sorrow it stabbed me in the chest. “Why did this have to happen to me?”

“I don't know.”

That was a question I had asked myself on so many occasions. When you think things couldn't get any worse, but the world kicks you down again and again; of course you ask yourself why.

Why me?

Why now?

Why here?

Why, why, why. . .

You could do that forever and ever, but it changed nothing.

That was a hard lesson I had to learn. Asking why doesn't fix it, asking why doesn't stop it from happening. All you can do is pick yourself up and keep going.

Because until you're dead, the world keeps on spinning and you're still walking it.

“I wish I knew, I really do. But I don't have that answer.” Running my hands up and down her arms, I massaged her shoulders. “Maybe it would help if I knew who you were. Tell me your name.”

A cynical chuckle left her mouth as she peered at me over her shoulder, her lids lowering into thin lines. “Are you sure you want me to tell you? You weren't too interested earlier.” Nodding, I waited patiently. Pursing her lips, she shook her head. “Bijou, Bijou Garrel.”

“Bi-ju,” I sounded out the letters, trying to pronounce it the same way she had. “Did I say that right?”

“Yeah, you said it fine.” Her hands nervously tumbled around each other, fingers braiding and unbraiding repeatedly.

Bijou—That's pretty.

Stroking her hair, my heart began to beat for a different reason. It wasn't working off adrenaline or anger anymore, it was filling with something else.

My body became warm the longer I touched her, my stomach clenched tight and buzzed with electric pops. Her hair tickled the skin under my chin, and a faint aroma of lavender swept over my senses.

Trailing the tips of my fingers up and down her arms, my eyes drifted around her body, taking her in. Her small, firm breasts pressed against the cotton, nipples hard as diamonds.

Moving my hands down lower, my eyes followed the lean lines and muscles of her legs, ready and willing to keep going, to stroke her harder, longer, over every inch of exposed skin.

No, it's wrong. Don't be an even bigger asshole, Redd!

I couldn't understand the sudden change, or why my body reacted so easily to this woman. I felt it that night too, when she peered up at me in the car to thank me. Her eyes were glittering in the moonlight, her skin glowing under the white hue.

She looked so sweet and innocent. Her lips curved to speak those few simple words and my mind went into shock. I thought about what it would feel like if she wrapped her flesh colored lips around my cock. I wondered if her skin would flush pink and if her pussy would soak her panties as she sucked me off.

It was a horrible thought to have, especially after what had happened. So I didn't respond to her thank you, I sat inside my head, talking my cock down. Forcing the thoughts away, I chalked them up as some demented response to the trauma we had just experienced.

Why is this happening?

I'm fucking sick in the head. What the hell is wrong with me?

I had to put some distance between us. I was afraid of what I'd do if I didn't. “Come on, want something to eat?” Pushing myself up, I snatched the knife off the carpet, and walked into the kitchen. “Do you like peanut butter?”

“I'm not hungry.” Crossing her legs, she sat on the floor, staring blankly at her hands.

“Alright.” Leaning against the sink, I tucked my arms into my ribs. “Look, I'm sure the last thing you want to do is talk about it, but I really do need to know. Why were you in that house?”

Cocking her head up, her eyes shot fire in my direction. It was a sore question to ask, I knew that before it left my mouth. I just needed to know. There were really only two questions I wanted her to answer.

Why had she been there?

How can I find them so I can kill them?

Biting her lower lip, she nibbled at a thick crack on the surface. “Maybe you should tell me why you were in that house first.” The sharp angle of her jaw worked back and forth, grinding her teeth together. “How did you know I was there? Did someone send you to take me?”

My brows shot up defensively, and I stared at her dumbfounded. “What? No, I wasn't there for you. I was there for something else, I just found you instead.”

“What were you there for? What the hell could you ever want from that place?”

Dragging my hand over my head, I scratched at my scalp. How much do I tell her? Do I tell her everything?

Not yet. First I need to know about her.

“It doesn't really matter, you're just lucky I was there. I don't think you would have made it another month looking the way you do—which is why you should eat something.”

“I told you, I'm not hungry.”

“Yeah, and?” Turning back around, I opened up the bread, and took out four pieces. Fumbling through the stuff on the counter, I searched for the peanut butter. “Just cause you say it, doesn't make it true. I can hear your stomach growling from over here.”

Unscrewing the top, I made us each a sandwich, wrapping them in a paper towel and walking back into the living room. Holding it out to her, she stared hungrily, but didn't reach out to take it.

Shaking her head, Bijou bit the inside of her cheek, her eyes eagerly devouring the food, but her mouth refusing to accept it. “No, I said I wasn't hungry.” Her tone was harsh, like she had just fought some imaginary battle between her belly and brain.

Angling my head, I just stared at her. Her body needed food, she was weak and skinny, deprived for way too long. It made me hate the man that had her, I wanted to chain him up and let him starve just so he knew what it felt like.

“You're obviously hungry, take it.”

“Don't tell me what to do, you don't own me,” she barked. Scooting around to face me, her hands slammed into the floor. “This morning you barely said a word to me, now you want to boss me around and force me to do things.”

“I'm offering you food, I don't think that's me bossing you around. And this morning wasn't a good time to talk. My head was still a little fucked up, and my sister was here.” Shaking my head, I sat on the couch. “I never expected to find you, it went nothing like I had planned. You, those men, it all took me by surprise. I needed some time to sort through it.”

“And did you. . .” Pausing, Bijou loosened her fingers in the rug, plucking at the fibers. “Sort through it?” Under hooded lids, she looked up at me, her eyes searching for answers, aching to know what I was thinking, what I was planning on doing.

I couldn't blame her for her curiosity. She had been held in a four by six foot room for lord knows how long, and suddenly I show up. Her world had been turned upside down. She didn't want to go back there and she didn't know what to expect here.

I couldn't give her the answer she was looking for, it was another question that she would have to live with until I figured it out.

“I don't know.” Biting my sandwich, I held out hers again and nudged it in the air. With my mouth half full, chewing slowly, I spoke through clenched teeth. “But I can tell you one thing, you'll never go back to that place. That's a promise I can make you.”

“You can't make that promise. Not if you have any idea who you're dealing with.” Her hand greedily came up and snagged the food as if I was playing a sick joke on her, and would yank it away before she could grab it.

What the hell has that man done to you?

Whatever he's done, I'm going to erase it.

A light smile tugged on my lip as I watched her cheeks engorge with food and heard her moan softly as the flavor hit her taste buds.

For that single second in time, I didn't see a broken girl at my feet. . . I saw someone else trying to survive.

We're not that different.

“Tell me then, tell me who I'm dealing with.”

Cocking her head, her mouth stopped moving and her eyes grew wide. “You really have no idea?” A small crumb of bread hung on the edge of her lip as her mouth crooked in disbelief.

Leaning forward, I attempted to brush it off with my thumb. Her body began to tremble, jerking away as my finger grazed her skin.

She's been through fucking hell.

I won't let anyone hurt her again.

And I won't let him have her back.

“Start at the beginning, Bijou, I need to know everything.”