A/N: Begins late Tuesday night/Wednesday morning, after midnight at least, a smutty distraction. Wednesday. The Pine Glade festival officially begins in town but Manon is busy trying to find out why Paul Rogers is involved.
Thank you so much for reading the last chapter and taking the time to comment. You're the sort of readers I never dreamed I'd have.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Smutty beginning and ends with... well, you'll see!
"It's a shot in the dark
I'm not a walk in the park
I come loaded with the safety switched off
This girl is a gun
And we been having some fun
And I can show you if you turn the lights on
I keep waiting for luck to come swallow me up
I feel better when the boys stop callin'
I keep fallin' in love
But this measuring cup
Is overflowing with the same damn problems
This girl is a gun
Before you know it
It's done
And you'll be wishing that you crossed your fingers
Oh, but God, is it fun
When you can have more than one
So let me show you how to touch my trigger"
Girl is a Gun - Halsey
*******
Manon
Tuesday night brought a granite-purple sky that faded into seamless black. The curtain of storm clouds was so thick she couldn't see the stars as she closed the windows in the room. She'd known it was going to rain and had felt the charge in the air earlier that day. The first silver-gold fissures of brilliant light fractured the velvet sky as if it had been struck by the fist of an almighty God. It was beautiful, in a way, but she closed the curtains and put her back to the storm outside.
Edgy, pissed off, and unlikely to sleep any time soon, Manon paced her bedroom floor. She muttered vehemently under her breath, wishing she'd never gone into town earlier that day. Jake was in the shower, she had gone in first while he'd been busy on his phone. Dressed in nothing but her favorite silk robe, she couldn't stand being in her own skin and wished she could take Jake and disappear from this shithole in a puff of dark smoke. Her fingers toyed with the sash tied around her waist, fiddling and picking at the knot absentmindedly as she tried and failed to piece together why Paul Rogers was involved in this.
It was a futile task. Everything she came up with was either wildly out of the realm of possibility or too mundane for a man to assist in the kidnap of his only son. She heard the shower shut off and schooled her features. She shook her hands to relieve the tingling tension shooting through her body and halted her pacing, knowing he'd force her to talk about it. There was nothing she could do at this time of night, everyone else was already asleep, and there was no work she could distract herself with. Jake's quiet footsteps as he made his way to the bathroom door broke her out of her depressing thoughts, and her mind went down a darker, carnal path.
When he stepped through that door, he'd wear nothing but a towel, and she would stare, maybe give him a suggestive smile. He'd give her that indulgent expression he saved for her and let her look her fill. The world might be burning down right outside their window, but here, in this oasis they'd created, they were safe and could lose themselves in each other. Mind made up, she walked to the bed and perched on the edge, crossing her legs just as the door opened and Jake came out. He ran a hand through his damp hair, lustrous eyes scanning the room until they landed on her, and a soft smile curled his lips. She returned it, her heart rate elevating as he padded closer until he stood before her.
"I thought you'd be asleep." He said, a crease forming between his brows as he appraised her.
She gave an indolent shrug, the silk sliding off her shoulder in the process, and his gaze followed the motion, a brow arching as she stood and ran her hands up his shower-damp skin.
"Why waste time sleeping when we can do anything else?"
He choked on a laugh, a large hand landing on her waist as she sidled closer until there was but a hairsbreadth between their bodies. His head dropped, forehead to forehead, eyes heavy-lidded as he stared into her eyes and inhaled deeply. She was glad she'd taken the time to slather on the expensive scented body lotion.
"What did you have in mind?" He murmured as the hand at her waist dug in, tugging her flush against him.
She grinned wickedly, wriggling a little against the rapidly hardening cock trapped between them.
"For now... just watch. No touching until I say so, or I'll stop." She warned, voice low and seductive as she pushed away from him and let her hands fall to the loose knot tying her robe shut.
Pulling on the ends of the long sash, she unraveled it slowly, letting it fall to the floor like a stream of cool water, and unwrapped herself from the layer of silk. Standing proud, every bit of her creamy skin exposed to him, tinted the color of honey from the good weather recently, and her long white hair poured down her chest, hiding much of her bust that his eyes were stuck on. Jake swallowed hard as she backed up to their waiting bed. The slow burn of desire began low in her stomach, and she very much enjoyed the black hunger in his eyes as she sat down and slid back until she was seated against the headboard. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she made herself comfortable as she watched her man. He moved as if on strings, jerky and clumsy to stand at the foot of the bed.
She spread herself in a languorous stretch, bold and confident, eyes heavy and hazed with red smoke as she stared up at him. His midnight eyes were fixed on her cunt, displayed like a prize he could win if he behaved until she decided he could touch. His tongue darted out of his mouth to lick at his bottom lip as if he couldn't wait to taste her. The power she had over him made her feel drunk and free, determined to test his resolve.
She knew he'd only let her have control for so long before he forced her to submit to his superior strength and the dark impulses carefully concealed under love and worship. And she would complain to make him handle her harshly, and growl a command for her to behave until she gave in and let herself be dominated. She craved it now, but the dizzying power of having him watch, unable to touch or taste as she touched herself was enough to keep her from demanding he do it now.
Starting out slowly, stretching her legs out and bending them at the knee, her feet planted in the mattress, she reacquainted herself with her body. It had been a while since she'd had to do this, had been spoiled by Jake, but her body remembered, and she put on a show. Mapping her skin with her hands, enjoying the softness and warmth, the weight of her breasts in her palms, nipples hardening to stiff peaks as she let her thoughts run wild and free, eyes locked on a very tense Jake. Sliding her hands down her torso as he clenched and unclenched his fists, goosebumps flaring as she cupped herself in her palm, hot flesh already slick when she delved inside. Her breathing quickened as she circled her clit, repeating the action until she gasped and flame licked up her torso.
In her lusty mind, Jake was on his knees between her legs, so real in her fevered imagination she could feel his hands pinning her thighs to the bed and his skilled tongue against the tender folds of her cunt. Groaning at the thought of his mouth closing around her clit, she let her head fall back, eyes closed and chest heaving. Not even mildly ashamed of what she was doing, she worked her clit slow, then fast, her wetness coating her busy hand.
Knowing he was watching only made everything hotter for her, and any insecurities she might've had evaporated under the scorching heat of his singular eyes. She slid two fingers into herself to counter the ache building within her, her smaller hand wasn't as good as Jake's much larger one, but she made do. Somehow, she lost control of him in her mind and found herself flipped and twisted, helplessly bent into a vessel to be filled as he fucked her and held her down with strength.
The slow burn of desire became a wildfire, body tensing and bowing as pleasure surged through her, and she came hard, and fast. The stroke of his thick cock inside her felt so real, greedy cunt clamping down on her fingers as she slowly relaxed and came back down to earth, not nearly satisfied. Cracking her eyes open, she found Jake still as stone, face carved from marble and fists curled so tight his knuckles were white. He'd become a statue to stop himself from breaking her order, and she felt very proud of herself. A salacious smile as she wiped her soaked fingers on the sheets and lazily got on her hands and knees, crawling to the end of the bed.
Reaching a hand out, she grabbed the towel at his waist and tugged it down, smiling up at him as she wrapped a hand around his cock, and stroked him, weighing him in her hand and it was as if she'd electrocuted him. He moved so fast she couldn't track it, and she was picked up by the waist and tossed onto her back in the middle of the bed. Giggling, dazed and body fizzing, nerves sparking alive as he prowled around the side of the bed and said two words that made her whimper and the hair on the back of her neck rise.
"My turn." And it sounded like a threat as grabbed hold of her hands, taking her wrists in one of his and pinning them above her head.
Crouched over her, all hard muscle, dark hair, and burning blue eyes, she felt his gaze like a brand as she fought against his hold. The delicate bones of her wrists bending as his grip tightened and he growled an order to stop. She yielded with a pleased sigh, letting her body go loose. He murmured, "good girl", making her arch under him and shiver. Her bone-deep trust in him only grew stronger as he lowered his mouth to hers. It was a devouring like he was trying to swallow her down and keep her for himself. She was unable to retreat, bracing herself as he stole the breath from her lungs and adjusted his position until he was crouched between her split thighs. The possession of her mouth slowed and gentled, a sharp nip of her bottom lip before he broke away. Letting go of her wrists, he let his hand glide from the top of her head down the side of her face and neck before settling loosely around her throat, thumb pressed into her hammering pulse.
"Tell me what you were thinking about while you were touching yourself." He said insistently, sounding awed.
"You. How you fuck me until I don't know if I want it to end or never stop. It feels so good when you make me ache and beg and scream. How safe you make me feel that I don't even care that you have all the control. That's the hottest thing, really." She teased, watching as his pupils blew wide and smoldered dangerously.
"I want to try something." He whispered, kissing down her neck and collarbone, sucking the skin into his mouth until it was sheened with maroon.
She writhed as he dragged his mouth over her chest and swirled his tongue around her nipples one after the other, pulling on them with his teeth until she cried out. Relenting only to lick a path down to her weeping cunt. She was trembling and panting as he delved into her folds and swallowed a mouthful of her essence, a possessive growl as he did. So sensitive he barely had to work on her. When he sucked her clit into his mouth whole, she bucked and fisted the sheets, desperately fighting the pleasure to make it last. It was a losing battle, she tried to edge away, mewling as he refused to let her escape from his ravenous mouth and held her down. He glanced up at her, the sight of his dark head between her legs almost making her eyes roll back.
"Don't fight it. I need you relaxed and ready for me. I want you to come."
"Oh, fuck..." she managed, twitching violently as he resumed his task.
Sweat trickled down her face though she was barely exerting herself as his words echoed through her distressed mind. The sound of his voice gasoline to the desire in her core. It didn't take much. A few sweeps of his talented tongue over her clit and a gentle graze of his teeth over the small bundle of nerves before she was coming for the second time that night. He waited for her eyes to open and her legs to stop jumping before climbing over her body to reach under her pillow. Frowning, mind slow and thick like molasses had replaced her brain, she waited. Her heart skipped and stuttered as she recognized the sleek black bottle in his hand. He smirked knowingly as he retook his place between her legs, poured some of the viscous liquid into his palm, and crouched, empty hand pinning her thigh to the bed.
Trying not to tense, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, the touch of his hand as he traced the seam of her cunt and trailed his fingers down, down, down. Slick fingers circled her back entrance, each small touch making her jerk and stop breathing, a strong, sinful twinge in her core that made reality fuzzy and oddly muted. He touched her as if she were made of glass, a fingertip pushing inside, gently working her open so he wouldn't hurt her more than she liked. His other hand massaging her thigh, trying to distract and relax her. It only served to make her feel skittish and unhinged. Her hands were in his hair, pulling it slightly. Feeling strangely like she needed to hold onto something.
When he decided she was ready, he pushed his finger into her, her tight, resisting muscles trapping him as she breathed through the strange sensation and silently begged him to move when the discomfort faded. A gush of wetness, and a prickle of heat over her skin as he carefully slid his finger in and out of her, each pass easier. The pleasure only grew stronger when he added another finger. Whining and shocked by her own reaction, she rolled and rocked her hips in time with his hand. A sensation like a thousand tiny creatures dancing ran down her spine, and she could hear herself talking but couldn't understand a word of it. Jake only observed her, a black look in his eyes that made her want to die, hunger so insatiable she feared she might be nothing but ash and dust by the time he was through with her.
If he touched her clit, she'd come right now, so turned on her skin felt too small for her bones, and every pore on it splayed wide. He didn't touch her there. He withdrew his hand and grabbed hold of her hips, letting go of her to palm his cock before he sunk himself inside her dripping cunt with no warning. Annoyed at the change in direction, she clawed at his shoulders. Snarling a grateful but somewhat disappointed curse in his ear as he grinned and drove into her, unmerciful and eager. Still, she savored the feel of him clasped tight within her cunt, the luscious drag of his cock against her walls addictive and dangerous. Already she was close, the warning throb of release deep in her core already flashing as he buried himself in her so completely she could only shout.
She'd almost come to terms with his change of mind when he slid free of her cunt, moving efficiently as he rolled her onto her front. Manon sank her face into the pillows, lying with her ass raised as he reached for another pillow and placed it under her hips to lift her higher. His hands drifted down her cheeks, a drip of lube poured down the cleft, and the lewd sound of him fisting his cock to coat himself in the liquid was dimmed by the blood roaring in her ears. His body covered hers like a blanket of hard flesh, his skin sticking to hers and when he took her ass, it was with a single ruthless thrust. Slippery with lube and her essence, he was inside her with very little resistance, only sumptuous friction and overwhelming fullness countered by the razor's edge of pain that kept her from passing out.
Crazed sounds and sharp curse words fell from her lips as he moved within her taut channel. Drowning out the storm crashing down on their house. She buried her nails into the bed, her focus turned inward to the incredible feel of his cock inside her back entrance. Her hair was moved off her neck, gentle open mouthed kisses graffitied into the skin of her nape as he muttered incoherently to calm her. Too far gone, she thought he was speaking another language. Something inside him snapped, and he stopped holding back, taking her roughly and deeply. An animalistic edge to his movements told her that taking her from the rear like this was too much for him, and the leash he kept on himself had vanished. She keened and wailed with every plunge of his cock inside her, muffling it into the pillows as thunder rumbled like a landslide outside.
Swearing and shaking, Jake slipped a hand under her, grabbing on to give himself more leverage, changing the angle so he could go deeper, rougher, a cramp of muscles protesting as she howled, wild and savage. It was better than she'd imagined it would be the other night. She'd never wanted this until then, but now, she wanted more, more, more. It was so consuming, her mind shattering into cracks and jagged lines. Pressure so powerful it almost snapped her in two. Now that she was very clearly delighting in it, he dared to fuck her without restraint and drove into her hard and fast, his grunts and groans dropping into her ears. The pain she always looked for had gone. Only a pleasure too intense and heavy existed, the kind that was too much to endure for too long, and she thrashed her head and sobbed against the onslaught.
Lightning ran across her vision, splintering and blinding as she worked her hand under her to rub her clit and give the pressure inside her somewhere to go. Jake cried out, a slam of his hips as she circled her clit and her empty cunt clenched around nothing. She broke then, coming apart at the seams, a million glistening pieces of her scattering like confetti, coming with a sharp scream, almost scared by how it seized her. She was a mess of convulsing limbs and jerking muscles under him, blind and deaf to the world as he slammed into her once, twice, and his nails cut into her hips, blood steaming in her veins. A peculiar energy ran through her that left her feeling bruised and destroyed, her conscious mind going utterly blank before it winked out. His triumphant call of her name as he came followed her into a dead sleep.
***
Wednesday bloomed bright and sunny after the rain had doused the earth during the night. The world outside her window held no interest to her as she cornered Jessy and dragged her away from the rest of her friends and up the stairs to an empty bedroom. The redhead was her usual sunny self, but rings of darkness surrounded her bright eyes, and there was a tinge of pink around her nose. Manon felt bad about questioning her, but it couldn't be avoided. They sat on the unmade bed after Manon locked the door.
"I wish this could wait, but it can't. I need you to tell me everything you know about Paul Rogers and why he might be involved in all this." Manon said, observing her friend closely as she mulled everything over.
Jessy's shoulders slumped, face falling before she replied, "Honestly, Manon, I have no fucking idea. I've known Richy and his family for years, and I've spent the last couple of days just overthinking everything, and I've got nothing. Paul rarely spoke about anything other than what was happening with the garage. I might have known them all, but I only realize now that I don't actually know them."
Manon sighed, "I'm starting to believe nobody knows anything about anyone. It concerns me. How did Paul deal with his wife's illness? Did he struggle a lot?"
Jessy nodded, "I do know that. He did. When she started going downhill, Richy managed to keep it locked away, but Paul looked as if someone had erased all the color from him. I just... he looked so lost for a long time. He never really got back to how he used to be."
"Why is her illness such a secret? Why do none of you know what it is?"
Jessy shrugged, "They were a private family. Paul hated the idea of anyone pitying him, and Richy was the same. They dealt with things together, and then it was forgotten about or pushed aside."
Switching gears, Manon asked, "The day Richy was taken, do you remember seeing the vehicle Paul claimed to be doing an oil change in the garage?"
Jessys eyes widened before her face cleared, and an expression of deep thought crossed her pretty features.
"Most of that day is really... blurry. But I don't think there was anything there. They haven't had any real business for months, years really," a short pause as she glanced away from Manon and back again, "unless he was working on his bike. Paul prefers his motorbike over his truck, and he's often tinkering with it when business is slow, which is most days."
Manon filed that away but knew that wasn't the answer. Paul had explicitly mentioned a car.
"Do you remember seeing the bike that day?"
Jessy shook her head, "I don't think I did. I was looking for Richy, though. It wouldn't have registered since I see it so often. I didn't see it the day we visited. I was worried he had to sell it to pay for Everly's treatments but was too afraid to ask."
Interesting, Manon thought, it was plausible. Still, it didn't feel right to her.
"Okay, thank you, Jessy. Is there anything else you can think of? Even the tiniest thing could help me here." She said, keeping her tone even to hide the fact she wanted to scream at yet another roadblock.
"I don't think so, but him having that book... I feel like he's a complete stranger now. I've barely slept since we got back. I did read the book, though."
Manon arched a brow, wordlessly demanding she elaborate.
Jessy smiled, but it didn't reach her hazel eyes, "It's probably best if you read it yourself. I'd love to do a dramatic performance for you, but I want to call Phil and see how he's getting on with the Festival starting."
Manon had nothing else to ask her and followed her out of the room and into the hallway, waiting there until Jessy went to her bedroom to grab the book. When her friend reappeared, she took the small black book and thanked her before climbing the stairs to her and Jake's room. Once inside, she locked the door and settled on her bed to read the story of the Man Without a Face while Jake typed away in the corner.
***
"Nonbon! Just the woman I was looking for." Dan grinned as she joined him on the porch.
She laughed, head shaking as she sat on the steps beside him, "I don't think I want to ask why you were looking for me."
Dan snorted, "Nothing exciting. Haven't seen you as much lately, that's all." he said, voice uncharacteristically gentle.
She turned to him, hearing the tinge of sorrow in his voice, "I'm sorry, things have been a bit..." She trailed off, hunting for words.
"Fucking mental?" Dan supplied, and she nodded, laughing at his bluntness.
"Yeah, fucking mental. You doing okay?"
Dan heaved a sigh, dark eyes traveling over the top of the treeline as he turned his phone over.
"My mom called." He said by way of explanation.
Manon cocked a brow, "Is that a bad thing? I mean, I don't have a mom, but most seem to enjoy talking to theirs." She joked lightly, nudging him with her shoulder so he smiled.
"It's not bad. I just worry about her being alone with this crap going on. I feel like shit for leaving her there."
Manon hummed, looking away from him as he shifted and avoided her eye, "I'm sure she'll be fine. I can stop in and check on her the next time I go into town if you want?"
"No, it's fine. I just... She's been through too much already. It'll kill me if she's dragged into this." He muttered, shocking Manon. She was used to his brash attitude and sarcastic comments. This was a new side to a man she respected and liked.
Treading carefully, this was new ground, and she wasn't sure where the landmines were or if there were any, she fished for more to better understand why Dan was the way he was.
"Does she have friends or anyone to look out for her while you're gone?"
Dan nodded, "She has friends, not many, but enough. They visit her every day, and I keep in touch with the neighbors to make sure my 'dad' doesn't show up."
He spat out the word "dad" like a mouthful of bitter poison, his expression alight with a hatred so intense she feared it might eat him alive one day.
"I take it he wasn't a good guy?" She asked, joining him in studying the trees as she clasped her hands atop her knees and breathed in the pine-scented air.
Dan gave a sardonic chuckle. It lifted the hair on her arms, and a chill snaked down her back.
"Fuck no. Death would be too kind for that bastard."
Manon didn't know what to say. His eyes had glazed over as if he'd gotten lost reminiscing and fallen into a deep pocket of old hurts and anger. Dan carried on without her input, seeming as if he needed to get this out, and he'd been waiting for her to do so.
"My mom, she can't walk very well. It's why I was so mad when Cleo's mom allowed her to join the search for Hannah. My mom will do anything for anyone, no matter the cost to her... She couldn't walk because the man who was supposed to be my father would beat her black and blue. He – he pushed her down the stairs one night. All she'd done was put peas in the casserole, and he maimed her for life... Broken plates, windows, and bones were normal with him. I hated him, still do, and always will."
Manon's predictable temper ignited. She'd dealt with many domestic abusers while working as a P.I. So many broken bodies and haunted faces ran through her mind like a slideshow, and she hated that Dan witnessed this. It left an indelible mark, a tattoo of pain and rage that guided every decision long after it had ended.
"Have you seen him recently?" She said tentatively, hoping she wouldn't spook him out of whatever memory had taken control of his mouth.
"Not in years. He did come back once. He vanished after she 'tripped' down the stairs. Everyone knew what really happened. The neighbors had to call the cops a few times when he'd come home drunk and take out whatever grievances he had on her."
"What happened then?" She asked, her heart bleeding for the little boy who could only hide while his world became violent voices stained with alcohol, terror and blood-splattered fists.
Dan's mouth thinned, lips going white as his brow furrowed and a shadow flickered in his eyes.
"It was ages ago now. I was only 13. He turned up at the door one day, hat in hand, asking if my mom was home. I don't think he recognized me, but I knew who he was. He has a deep scar on his left hand, my mum managed to get out of the way on time once, and the bottle he aimed at her face slashed him instead. Drunk men fall a lot, Manon."
Manon forced a small laugh, knowing he needed that from her, "Was that the last time you ever saw him?"
Dan snorted, a harsh sound that was more bitter than humorous.
"Nope. A few days later, I came home to find him on our porch again. With my mom this time. And she was covering up a fresh black eye and crying, he smirked at me, and I – I snapped."
"I don't blame you. What happened?"
Dan looked her in the face, eyes clear and glinting viciously as he grinned, but it looked more like he was baring his teeth than a genuine smile.
"I helped him off the porch. All I saw was my mom sobbing and trying to hide yet another bruise from that spineless cunt, and I had had enough. I was big for my age, and rage gave me the strength I needed to land a punch on his weak jaw and toss him out on his ass. He's never come back... I like to think he drowned in his own piss down a gutter somewhere."
Manon loosed a breath, scrambling for something to say when Dan spoke again.
"So, Nonbon. That's my tragic backstory. And it's also why I'm so protective over the women in our group, even you. I don't want that to happen to any of you. But I'm useless to you like this." He waved a hand over his injured legs before dropping it back onto his thigh.
She knew kind words weren't what he needed and came to a decision she'd either regret or be glad she'd offered.
"You said you can shoot?"
Dan's brows lifted, his frown clearing as he inclined his head, "Yeah, why?"
She grinned, "You can prove it to me tomorrow. We'll do some target practice, and I'll let you have a gun if you're telling the truth."
Dan's entire face brightened and glowed, a huge smile overtaking it as he turned and wrapped her up in a bear hug so tight she couldn't move. Giggling, cheeks burning as he broke away, she lightly punched his shoulder once he let her go.
"Don't tell anyone, Nonbon. But you're my favorite.
"Good. I don't like second place... You'll be my favorite if you can manage a gun." She jested, making him laugh.
She got to her feet, wanting to help Cleo with dinner and allow Dan some time alone before he faced everyone. It was draining and exhausting to reveal one's darkest secrets and deepest hurts. He'd be raw for a little while. She'd reached the front door when his voice made her look over her shoulder.
"Will that put Hackerman in second place?"
She gave him the middle finger as he winked and chuckled.
"Possibly... See you for dinner, Daniels."
Jake
"There's someone outside," Manon whispered, voice urgent.
Jake turned to her, "are you sure? It's pitch black out there."
"Well, unless the birds figured out how to use a flashlight, someone's out there."
Jake choked back a laugh and shook his head, heart rate climbing as he peered out the window.
"Can you make them out?" He asked after a tense moment.
"No. They're pacing along the tree line. Keep watch for me." She said and scrambled off the bed, darting to the safe door. Jake was torn, watch the window or make sure Manon wasn't planning something insane? He didn't get much choice in the end as the safe swung open, and he heard her grabbing something, the click and clang of metal meeting metal telling him everything.
"You're not going out there, Manon." He all but growled as he tore his eyes away from the person pacing the boundary of the forest.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Should I invite them in for tea instead?" She spat at him, hesitating before pulling on a Kevlar vest and shoving her feet into her boots.
Jake was moving before she could stop him, putting his own shoes on and grabbing his hoody off her chair before following her downstairs. They found everyone in the dark kitchen, tense and silent, as they eyed the figure outside. Manon sighed, and he caught the flash of her gun as her hand fell to her side.
"What the fuck are you doing?" She hissed, making everyone jump and whip their heads to them
"Jessy saw something on her way to the bathroom, and we were making sure it was worth waking you two up," Cleo murmured.
"We weren't sleeping. If anything happens. You wake me up. I don't give a fuck if it turns out to be a raccoon digging through the trash. You wake me up, understood? Good. Now, move." She ordered, and when they hesitated, she began to count down from three.
She didn't get to two before the way was clear. Jake steeled himself, he wasn't letting her go out alone, and he didn't care if that pissed her off. He eyed the hand holding her gun. Not a tremor or anything to give away if she was scared or nervous. She even felt distant from him then, like she'd shut off a part of herself that made her feel and think. A creature of no emotion or connection, and it was disconcerting to see how quickly she could shut everything off. Still, he knew how brutal it could be when she allowed herself to care again. She was moving out the door by the time he'd shoved himself out of his head.
He followed her outside and tried to be as quiet as she. Before they reached the tree line, the flashlight swung away from them, but the person still stalked up and down. Manon stopped and aimed her gun at a tree a reasonable distance from them and the person watching the house.
"FBI. You have five seconds to show yourself before I blow a new hole in your useless hide," She crooned and counted down. The figure had frozen, but she got to one and fired a warning shot. It was like a bomb had gone off in the deadly silent forest. His ears rang and whined as the echo of the blast finally came to a stuttering end.
"Good. Now I can kill them and say I warned them without lying." Then she took off running after the person now bolting away from them.
Jake cursed and flew after her, following the blur of her hair as it streamed behind her like a banner. It was his only beacon in a darkness so complete it felt physical. It pressed in on him, and he was reminded of nights spent in underground tunnels, starving and freezing, damp rock cutting into his back but not daring to move, knowing his pursuers were close on his heels. He shook it off and focused on Manon as she weaved through the trees. He could hear the one they were chasing crashing through the undergrowth, snapping twigs, and the crunch of their feet made it to his ears over the deafening rush of blood. Manon moved like a dancer, nimble and light on her feet. She leaped and threw herself around tight beds, using the tree trunks to push off of, and was soon gaining on their stalker.
He watched as she stopped, body going still and tense, like a bowstring just before the archer lets the arrow fly, and he didn't dare breathe for fear of distracting her as he reached her side. A second shot rang out, and Manon slid her eyes to him. She was barely breaking a sweat as someone yelped in pain. Their steps slowed and faltered but soon picked up speed, and Manon groaned.
"They never just die. They always want to live." She snarled and picked up the chase again.
Sweat dripped down his back as they ran, Manon hardly seemed winded as the trees began to thin, and they caught glimpses of the black tarmac of the main road. His skin stung and itched. He'd taken a few branches to the face and neck. His pride hurt worse than his face. Their stalker had reached the end of the trees and was limping painfully as he tried to haul ass. It clicked then who he was, and if he knew, so did Manon. She burst through the trees just ahead of him. He swore and willed energy into his legs to catch up. He regretted relaxing his daily workouts. He reached her as she called out another order for the man to stop and noticed the motorbike a second later.
"If you want to end this tonight, Paul, hand yourself over now, and I can help you stop him."
When Paul didn't listen, Manon aimed and pulled the trigger. Jake managed to brace himself for the sickening impact, but it never came. Paul dove to the ground just as she had pulled the trigger, rolling a short distance before popping back up. He hobbled backward, closer to his bike, and whipped his hand out the hooded jacket he wore. Manon was primed to leap forward and tackle Paul until they both saw what he held in his hand. Manon cursed, vile and shocking, as his blood froze in his veins. His head emptied out and went quiet. Too quiet as Paul aimed at the love of his life. Without his say-so, his body moved, trying to shield her as the gun went off. She had time to shove him out of the way. She had no time to get herself out.
Jake saw that bullet propelling toward her like it was moving through water. Slow and steady, the air rippling as it cut a path clean through it. Every sluggish beat of his heart seemed to draw out too long. Copper on his tongue. No thoughts in his mind. Nothing, just...nothing. All he could do was watch as it hit her. Feeling the impact like a solid kick to his own chest. He let out a roar, ripped from the bottom of his soul as she yelled, the air in her lungs punched out with it. Her petite body toppled back onto the ground, where she lay still. The motorbike purred to life, but it didn't really register. He was on his knees beside her in a blink, hands roaming over her torso, searching for the wound or gush of blood when she gasped so loudly he jolted. She was huffing air, winded, tense, and wide-eyed, as she grabbed his hand and managed to scold him.
"I'm wearing a vest, you fucking idiot. Don't ever try that again."
He laughed. So relieved he didn't care, he sounded crazed enough that Manon's eyes shifted from anger to concern for him. He shook his head, still smiling.
"I can't promise that I'm afraid. Can you get up?"
She huffed but went silent for a moment, nodding just as he was about to ask what was wrong.
"Yeah, I think so. Did he get away?"
Jake didn't have to say it, she knew by the expression on his face, and she closed her eyes, mouth clamping shut. He didn't push her, only helped her stand. Her movements were graceless and pained, a hand pressed to where she'd been hit, right under her heart. That knowledge made him stumble and almost drop her, death had been by her side tonight, and she'd escaped it again. How long before death stopped waiting and began to take? He was starting to spiral when he noticed Manon was trembling violently, and her hand was clenched around the gun so tight he thought she might break it in two. Tenderly, he pried her fingers off the weapon, taking it from her. He'd expected her to protest, but her eyes were covered in shadows. Her skin had turned white, a cold sweat beading on her forehead as her labored breathing worsened.
"Hey, hey, look at me, Manon, look at me," Jake said, seeing that she was getting dragged into her nightmares but a waking one.
He grabbed her shaking hand and laid it flat on his chest, covering it with his own to keep it there as he stared into her dull eyes. Frantically trying to keep her in the present, ensuring she didn't get lost amongst the ghosts of her past.
"Feel that? Count the beats for me. You're not there, Manon. You're in Duskwood with your friends and me. You're here, you're here. Count the beats. I'm here. I'll always be here." He swore.
She took a thick breath, eyes closing as her fingers tapped out of time against his chest. Nothing happened for a long time, her skin was cold under his palm, and he hated it. Gradually, she was repainted in full color, still shaking and hiding behind closed eyelids, but he simply waited. He counted each inhale and exhale she took, watching her face slowly begin to relax and calm, but her fingers still tapped his chest. At first, he thought she was counting with her fingers, but it wasn't that simple. It was a repeating pattern she'd used on him in the past, morse code. But this time, it wasn't a lure to follow her. He pushed aside the thoughts racing in his head and ignored the steel band seizing his chest, focusing on what she was trying to tell him. He smiled, chuckling as her eyes opened, and he replied to her silent words.
"I love you too... you back with me again?"
She smiled softly, a tiny thing that barely counted, but he saw it and the gratitude shining in her wicked eyes.
"Thank you... I almost didn't put the vest on." She whispered in a tremulous voice, fingers toying with the spot she'd been hit as she grimaced.
"Thank fuck you did then," he paused, lifting his hands to cup her face and put his mouth on hers.
The image of her being hit and falling played in his mind like the world's worst recap reel. He might've lost her tonight. This could've ended with him washing her blood off his hands and handing her over to some stranger to sew her back together before they could bury her. Too close. Way too fucking close. He swept his tongue inside her mouth, clearing away the bitter taste of adrenaline and fear with her, fire and fight, life . He sighed deeply, too relieved she was okay to worry about where they were. She wasn't, though, and soon broke away.
"As much as I'd love to continue this, we have to go back and make sure everyone's okay." She said.
The trudge back to the house felt endless despite not being too far away. Every light in the house was on as they stalked up the drive and let themselves inside. Manon locked the door and set the security alarms before entering the kitchen, where their friends gathered. All eyes on them, they gladly accepted the drinks handed to them. He downed the bourbon in one, but Manon only sipped at hers. She sat tense and still in his lap. He'd snagged the last stool, and he could sense her need to escape and hide.
He took over explaining, keeping it short and to the point. He refused to answer any questions. Manon tried to intervene, but she was lagging, hunched over, and leaning heavily on him. Finally, Jessy and Lilly told the others to quit being nosey bastards and fuck off back to bed, shooing him and Manon out before they could get waylaid again. At the bottom of the stairs, Manon gazed up at them like she was about to begin climbing Mount Everest, not 13 stairs. He knew she'd never ask, so he scooped her up and carried her to their room, setting her down on the bed. She tried to hide it, but he caught the wince and hiss of breath when he jostled her.
"Just lie still. Let me check it." He said and reached for the zip on her vest, sliding it all the way until the vest gaped wide and she loosed a long breath,
"It's just going to bruise. Maybe cracked a rib or two - a scratch." She murmured as she attempted to shimmy out of the vest without moving her torso.
It would've been funny if she hadn't told him how badly she could be hurt.
"Fuck, Manon, stop," He said when she failed to sit up and collapsed on her back, a maddened, agonized noise coming from her, she glared at him, but there was no heat behind it. He just grinned, "see, lie still, and I'll check you over. If anything is broken, we're going to the hospital."
Manon opened her mouth to deny him, he gave her a no-nonsense look, a single shake of his head, and she snapped it shut, eyes still throwing daggers at him. He removed her vest and shirt by painstaking inches, holding his breath as her creamy, scarred skin filled his vision. He could already see the purple, yellow, and red blooming like spring flowers. Trailing his fingers over the area, barely touching her, she froze and sucked in air when he reached the darkest part.
"I'm going to have to press on it, Manon." He said regretfully, and she nodded, eyes hardening.
"Just do it. Get it over with." She insisted.
Jake didn't want to drag it out and damage her more, so he firmly pressed the pads of his fingers into the marks, pushing and massaging slightly, trying to feel for anything obviously broken. He remembered doing this on himself many moons ago, crying out in a dank space, blood drying on his skin long after it had poured from his nose, body decorated in so many bruises his skin looked like a macabre patchwork quilt. Manon's weren't quite so bad, and he felt no breaks. He thought he might float away. The relief made him feel so light. She was eyeing his face, teeth clenched as she breathed through them, and he wasn't sure what she might be seeing there. He cleared his throat and removed his hands from her body.
"I can't feel anything. I think you got lucky, and it'll just bruise badly." He whispered, bending to kiss her forehead.
"Are you okay?" She asked, ignoring everything he'd said about her.
"No. That was too close, Manon."
"I know. I shouldn't have said his name. It spooked him. He wouldn't have shot me if I'd just let him go. I already knew it was him. I just wanted to end it tonight now they know where we live. Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She smiled, and a little more light shone in her emerald eyes.
"We can figure it out tomorrow. Sleep first, and don't you dare try and get up. I'll help you undress."
She arched a brow, tone playful now as she tried to banish the tension, "If you're hoping for a 'we survived' fuck, it's not gonna happen. I wish it could, but..." She lifted one shoulder in an approximation of a shrug, a cheeky grin on her lips.
He huffed a laugh, unable to stop himself from smiling back.
"It's fine. You can make it up to me later." He teased as she winked and blew him a kiss.
"You're a good man, Jake. Help me under the covers, then." She laughed.
He did, and her words rolled around his head, ringing like a bell as he got her out of her clothes and stripped off his own, getting into bed and carefully pulling her against him. You're a good man... and he finally believed her.
A/N: The chat with Dan was completely unexpected, I hadn't planned for that in this chapter. I used the chat from the game but tried to change it enough that it wasn't a direct copy. It felt right and like a nice break between the rest. Next chapter, no smut, instead they will begin untangling the twisted web of lies and deception! It won't be up this week, maybe not next week either. It's my 30th birthday at the end of this week and I doubt I'll have time to write for a bit. It is coming, though, don't worry! I'll go hide in a hole now, I'm nervous about this chapter, lol