Peter pulled the truck into the garage under the compound. It was just like all the other rooms in dauntless; dingy, damp and grey. Accept this one was loaded with tools and equipment. Ammunition and artillery was stacked in crates in the right corner of the room. Various rifles and hand guns layered the left wall. Fire trucks, patrol cars, surveillance vehicles and motorcycles littered the centre floor. A large rusted metal door covered half of the right door, locked with what looked like Erudite security pads. Taura's eyes rested on it suspiciously. It was similar to a storage cupboard in Amity that she was never allowed to enter. Once she had plucked enough curiosity to attempt to enter but was seized before being able to succeed.
"So why did you go back to Amity?" Peter asked, taking the key out of the ignition. Taura ran her tongue over the bottom row of teeth and averted her eyes forward.
"I had something I needed to do." She said. Her voice severe and harsh, almost irritated.
"Is that it?" Peter scoffed turning to face her.
"What do you mean is that it?"
"I mean I just spent six hours looking for you and that's the reason I get?"
"Peter I don't need to give reasons for my actions." She spat coldly. The words were like acid rolling off her tongue. "Nobody else is gonna get a better reason than that." A loud silence fell over the pair of them for a few seconds. "Did you really spend six hours looking for me?"
"Of course I did." He said smoothly, his mouth twisting upwards into a smile. "I wasn't going to let you be eaten alive by the Amity." He joked.
"That's really sweet of you." She flashed him a sarcastic smile.
"Yeah. Well, your cool and I like you so...yeah."Peter stammered and shrugged slightly. "Bad influence my ass, Four."
"He's called you a bad influence?" Taura laughed.
"Yeah. Why does he say the opposite about me to you?"
"No. He says worse." Taura said causing Peter to laugh.
"Really? Like what?"
"He called you a manipulative dick." Peter frowned slightly at that.
"Well, he might be justified to say that." Peter sighed leaning back in the seat.
"Oh come on. You can't of done anything that bad!" Taura told him.
"No. No, I have. But that's in the past. And you probably will never hear what I did from me." Peter connected his eyes with hers. "I consider you as a close friend and I don't want to jeopardise that. I- I've ruined too many things for myself and others. I can't do it again. Not to you anyway." Peter decided not to break his eyes away from hers or at least he couldn't. They were like a door into an entire new room. A room with four walls, no windows, no furniture, just the two of them yet he was lost. And he couldn't find the exit nor did he want to. Peter found himself leaning slowly towards her and Taura didn't back away. His heart didn't pound in his chest but he felt something burning inside of him. His hand found the curve of her waist and it rested there.
"Peter?" She whispered in more of a moan then a question. "What are you-?"
"I don't know." Peter said before pressing his lips to hers. Taura went stiff, all the muscles in her body contracted at the sensation of cold skin against hers. Peter began to pull himself away, noticing the tension in her body, but a hand seized his face pulling him back into her, his mouth crashing into hers once more. He kissed her; and this time she responded and kissed him back. Both their worlds fell away around them. It started slow and soft, comforting in ways that words could never be. But then every kiss became hungrier and their bodies moved together in a passionate fury. Peter's hands roamed her waist and thighs, pulling her closer towards him. Taura's hands raked through his hair and rolled over his neck, pulling him closer towards her. His tongue ran over the seam of her lip asking for entrance, which she granted. A warmth spread through her like a fire and she moaned into the kiss. He smirked and moved his hands under her thighs, pulling her swiftly onto his lap. They pulled off each other, panting for air, foreheads pressed together. Peter moved his head to her shoulder, connecting his lips to her collar bone. A moan escaped from her lips as he left wet trails of soft kisses up her neck to her jaw. His hand found the hem of her shirt and moved his hand beneath it, searching the skin of her lower back. Lips found lips again and as Taura moaned into the kiss, Peter couldn't help but chuckle. His hand travelled further up her back, fingers grasping onto anything. Something warm ran between two fingers, which Peter bypassed as sweat. Or at least until they dug into something. At first he didn't know exactly what it was, but as his callous fingers searched it, Taura tensed and pulled on his hair lightly but enough to hurt. Peter pulled himself away from her mouth and his hand from under her shirt. Blood covered the skin of his palm, painting it a crimson red. Still slightly dazed , he ran his eyes over the now red skin while his brows furrowed into a tight knot. His eyes flicked to Taura, who was gnawing at the pink flesh of her lip, her eyes and mind somewhere else; somewhere distant.
"You're bl-bleeding?" He questioned more than stated trying to come to terms with what on earth just happened.
"Umm... I guess I must of cut myself on some branches and thorns." She stammered. She gave a small fake laugh.
He says, "I'm not a nose -but from my experience in Amity- I don't think branches cut this deep."
"Well... I-I'm quite clumsy a lot of the time." She said, scratching the back of her neck.
"It didn't cut through your shirt though?" He remarked. Taura sat there, her lips slightly pursed. He had her pegged. But she couldn't tell him. Not here. Not now. Maybe not ever. She wasn't Candor, her life wasn't going to be put on a plate and be served to the first person whose nice to her. There are always some things that should be kept in confidence.
A sudden hollow echo of knuckles rapping against the window interrupted the pair.
"Uh oh." Peter strained, throwing his head back against the head rest. A bright light shone through the glass revealing Eric's disgruntled face. A blue piercing shone under the flashlight he was holding next to his face.
"Unlock the door Peter." He said. Steel eyes calculated them both as Peter leaned forward. He outstretched his arm towards the dash board pressing down on a button that looked like an open padlock. The door clicked and Eric swung it open slightly aggressively. "You both know that trainer/initiate relationships are banned, right?"
"She's not technically an initiate."
"Fugitive, Amity, prostitute, slut – whatever. She's undergoing training. That makes her an initiate." Eric said flatly. Taura turned her face away from the pair folding her arms across her chest, staring blankly at the door on the other side of the room.
"Do you like getting involved with everybody else's business?"
"No. I just don't understand your eagerness to jump into bed with her straightaway." Eric criticised. "She's probably carrying several STIs and twins." Taura bit down on her lip, her nails digging into the flesh of her arms.
"That's way too far. Do you have any human emotions?"
"Oh and stabbing someone doesn't come under that category?!" Eric snapped harshly.
"That was in the past!" Peter whispered loudly, gritting his teeth.
"Yeah 2 years ago, what a long time it's been!"
"What do you want Eric?" Taura spat, snapping her head round to face him. She glared him down. The truck fell silent and Peter was pretty sure she heard him gulp.
Eric froze for a few seconds before saying, "I need to talk to you, in my office. Now."
Taura shrugged dismissively, "okay." She simply stated before hopping out the truck. Peter grabbed hold of her wrist making her face him again.
"Do you want me to go with you? He seems pretty pissed."
"I can look after myself Peter." She scolded before following Eric.
Eric roughly opened his office door. "Get in." He growled at Taura who took a large stride past the door frame. "Don't over exaggerate it. We're not filming a reality show." She rolled her eyes at him as he slammed the dark steel door behind them.
"Really? It's all very dramatic." Taura groaned sarcastically.
"I didn't tell you to speak."
"You didn't tell me to stop." Time froze for a few seconds. Eric's eyes hardened at her reluctance to comply and Taura's glared at him with bottled up anger.
"I'm aware that you and Peter are-" he paused, "-seeing each other."
"We're not seeing each other." Taura responded.
"Really? What was that in the truck?" He chuckled lightly but not the happy type of chuckle, more like the kind of chuckle villains have in movies.
"We just kissed. That's all."
"Are you sure that was all? He seemed to have his hands all over you."
"I'm sure, okay?" She growled impatiently.
"He'll pay you at some point..." Eric whispered just loud enough for Taura to hear.
"What?" Taura growled.
"I mean you're a prostitute right?" he asked innocently flashing her a large grin. Taura turned to face away from him, digging her nails into her flesh leaving small red marks behind.
"Of course you would know all about them." Taura muttered rather loudly. The pearly white teeth vanished from Eric's face and his eyes hardened. Unfolding his arms from across his chest, he slowly walked towards Taura making sure each step he took didn't make a sound.
Taura began to relax, the pressure on her shoulders began to subside. Or at least it had before she felt the presence of a large hand pressing against the small of her back lightly covering her wound. The weight on her shoulders came back and memories she wish she could just throw up out of her body plagued her mind. All of a sudden the presence of the limb became stronger and heavier as it slammed her small body into the wall.
Taura let out a pained scream when Eric pressed his hand down firmer, digging into the gash. He was dangerously close to her. His warm breath lingered over the skin of her neck.
"I already warned you about these little snide remarks you make." He paused as if waiting for a response, probably so he could degrade her even more. When he got no reply, he simply forced his hand harder against her back, putting the majority of his weight onto her tiny frame receiving a gasp from Taura. He continued, "And if you make anymore I won't-" he paused again, shifting his weight off her slightly when he felt something warm run over his hand. His hard gaze softened slightly as he moved it down to his hand. Red liquid was now running down the back of his hand from the gaps between his fingers. He retracted his hand off her back slowly looking at his palm which was now dripping Taura's blood onto the cavern floor. Eric glanced back at her shirt which was sticking to her back and plastered with an ugly blood stain that was still expanding outwards. His eyes widened in alarm at the sight. He moved his clean hand to the hem of her shirt and began to roll it upwards before stopping again.
"I swear to god if you take this the wrong way..." he whispered rather loudly before continuing to ravel up her shirt.
Black fabric peeled slowly away from her back revealing the majority of her back. It was covered in huge bruises. Some fresh and some old. The blacks, blues, purples and greens made her skin look like the canvas of a drunken artist. Eric knew that was pretty much exactly what it was. A huge rip in her flesh ran down the centre of her back and was seeping with fresh blood. It wasn't particularly deep, but enough to tear through the surface of the tissue. It was definitely a stab wound.
They stayed there in silence for what seemed like hours to Taura. Once every so often, Eric's breath would graze the wound. It felt strangely colder on her back then what it did on her neck. The shirt slid back down her back sticking to some patches of blood again, she could feel some of the fabric being sucked into the wound like a vacuum. Taura waited until she heard the sound Eric's footsteps move away from her before re-composing herself and turning to face him. She watched him clean his hands with an antiseptic wipe he took from a first-aid kit hung on the wall behind his desk. She couldn't read his expressions – like Peter told her, his face is always dead – however there was something there. Confusion, anger, curiosity or maybe all three. She couldn't tell. Perching on the front of his desk, he looked back at her. When he had her pinned against the wall, her shirt rolled up, she felt exposed. But the way he's looking at her now makes her feel like an open book that he's skimming and scamming for important information. "He knows everything. He must know now." She thought to herself. She felt intimidated by that idea and knew she could never stand up to him the way she always had done again. The way he watched her fumble with her shirt line, bite her lip, fidget on her feet made her want to go hide somewhere he can't look at her.
"Before you ask me anything." She said, her voice shaking slightly.
"I'm not going to ask anything." Eric answered swiftly averting his eyes to a spot on the wall. "I don't wish to concern myself in people's private lives." He paused. "And I'm sure you don't want me to."
"Yeah..." She sighed, slightly relieved that he understood her at some degree. Maybe they weren't so different.
"Your free to go now. Unless," another pause, "there's anything you want to tell me?"
"Why would I tell you anything?"
"That's what I thought." He chuckled slightly, but there was no smile. "The infirmary will be closed now, but I suggest you get Four – or Peter – to patch you up." Eric advised rather softly. He turned to face her and began to walk around to behind his desk. As Taura watched him do this, she decided this was the right time to leave. She nodded in his direction and mouthed "okay" before turning and making her way towards the door.
"Oh and Taura." He spoke up, forcing her to turn back to face him. He had his hands splayed flat on the table around a sheet of paper or folder of some sort, holding his arms up and revealing the intricate patterns of ink on this arms. She was sure he was going to lecture her on her comments or what happened in the garage however she was wrong. "anything said in here, stays in here."