Outside The Ropes: OtherSide Of Fear Part 32

I pulled out of his grip and pointed to the camper that could barely be seen in the distance, between the trees. "Its there."

He sighed and walked ahead, the silence back. I preferred him talking; it was easier to see his thoughts, to feel his anger. His silence was a dark cover, and I didnt know what was underneath. His silence left me emptier than his absence had.

I was beginning to doubt my sanity in bringing him here as he stood in the center of my tiny trailer, taking in every detail, filling the little s.p.a.ce with his presence. He was like a bomb about to explode, the wick of his fury on a slow burn. It was only a matter of time; all I had to do was wait. And I decided thats what I would do. I still had no explanation, and I wasnt going to pretend I did.

Fireball was in the freezer, and I unscrewed the top as I watched him. Putting the bottle to my lips, I let the cinnamon liquor heat me and ease the pressure on my chest. I needed to feel the blur of the alcohol. All the pain Id tried to cut off when I left was back with full force.

"What are you doing?" His eyes burned.

"Drinking." I tilted my head back, knowing my time was about to be up, and I needed to be ready.

"I mean this." He swept his hand around the trailer, disgust in his voice. "This...This..." He was looking around the small s.p.a.ce again. One room. Only the width of the bed in the back and not much longer. "Was it that f.u.c.king bad with me?"

I took another shot, not wanting to answer the question. The answer was obvious.

He pulled the bottle from my lips, suddenly in my s.p.a.ce, and caused some of the liquid to spill on my chin.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, the other hand still gripping the bottle he had pulled from me.

Our eyes were locked in a silent battle I wasnt about to lose. I jerked the bottle from him, the liquid swishing over the top as it tipped with the force, and then I brought it back to my lips, letting my head drop back as I drank deep, gulping it down.

"f.u.c.king stop." He ripped the bottle from my hands and threw it into the sink, the plastic making it bounce instead of break. But the liquor was gone all the same.

He had me pinned to the counter, arms trapping me as his hands gripped the ledge. The length of his body was in front of me, but didnt touch me. None of him touched me, but his fire surrounded me.

"I could f.u.c.king kill you for what youve done," it was a low growl, his words crackling.

"Ooh, thats love," I bit back with a raised chin, welcoming the heat of his anger, that was easy to respond to.

"Who the f.u.c.k is talking about love." He pushed off the counter and turned, kicking over my small table, one of the legs breaking off under his boot.

"Hey." I stepped away from the counter, but he rounded on me and pushed me against it.

"You left. You left without a f.u.c.king word. You put me through f.u.c.king h.e.l.l so you could be here?" He loosened his grip on my arms, but didnt let go. "You texted Dexter. But me, you couldnt even send me one f.u.c.king word. After everything weve been through, you couldnt even give me one f.u.c.king word? So f.u.c.k love. You dont know what it means." He shoved off me, the counter edge pressing into my back with the force.

As he took a few steps away, I grabbed my gun out of the drawer at my back, my body lit with adrenaline. "Yeah, well f.u.c.k you too. You can get the h.e.l.l out now."

He spun around to face me, coming up short when he saw the gun in my hand still pointing at the floor. He only paused for a second though, and then his lips slid up into a chilly smile. "You forget. I know you, and weve been here before, remember?" He took another casual step towards me, stepping over the broken leg of the table. "You wont shoot."

The surety in his words made my blood ignite, and I lifted my arm, pointing the pistol at him. "You dont know me anymore."

I was just about to shoot, knowing it would miss, but wanting to warn him off. He moved too quick though and flipped the gun from my hand, pressing me back to the counter.

Now he was touching me. Everywhere. His body pressed fully into mine, his arm wrapped around my arms, trapping them by my side. His heat burned with my own, but what I felt the most was the gun he had pressed to my ear. My gun. Only the edge touched me, he had it pointed from down low. But it was there, and his eyes blazed to whole new levels.

"Do it." I was breathless, but I meant it. The truth hit me with relief-I meant it. I didnt f.u.c.king care if he killed me right on the spot. He didnt need to remind me of that night, I knew I wouldnt be able to pull the trigger on myself, but I knew I didnt want to go on like this. Running. And I couldnt accept our past life either.

His heavy breaths only made his chest press further into mine, but his hand with the gun was losing its force.

I squirmed, and my blood fizzed, bursting under my skin because I was certain. I didnt care if I died, and there was an unspeakable freedom in that. In throwing it all away.

"Do it," I dared.

His lips smashed into mine, overtaking my words, drowning my thoughts. I was drenched in him, thirsting for more. Feeling crazy and loving it. Needing it after starving myself of this for so long. My hands were greedy, already under his shirt and digging into the skin on his back, wanting to pull him inside me. His touch was rough, his lips demanding and filled with anger, but it still melted the parts of me that had frozen during our months apart.

He spun me around and forced me over the counter, hand sliding down the front of my pants as his teeth bit into my neck. His finger pumped in and out of me, his thumb pressing my most sensitive nerve, making my legs quiver. "You cant deny this."

I moaned, bracing my hands on the counter, trying and failing to gain some control. The counter and him held all my weight.

His nose went up the back of my neck, breath sending a toe-curling chill down my spine. "Youre mine. Your body knows it." His fingers picked up speed, pressure building and then his hands disappeared and I cried out.

He jerked on my hips, spinning me around and pulling my shirt over my head. "Im never letting you go."

The intensity in his words and gaze were real, but my need for him was more, the ache between my legs consuming me. I pulled on his shirt, tugging him close, and then I grabbed his hands, putting them back on my hips. "Then dont."

My lips couldnt reach his, but I dragged them along his jaw, drinking in his scent and feel of his rough stubble.

He pushed me off of him, eyes dropping over my bare torso as he tugged on my bra. "Take this off."

I slid it over my head, fingers too anxious to deal with clasps. My skin burned under his gaze, all sensations shooting to my core and making me clench my thighs, needing relief.

Then his hands were back on me, squeezing my a.s.s as he pulled me to him, lifting me off the ground as his lips claimed mine again. He took the few steps to the bed and dropped me on it with a growl. Standing over me, his eyes skimmed every part of my exposed skin.

His fingers gripped the waist of my jeans, yanking them down my legs. He unb.u.t.toned his, and I rose up with my elbows behind me so I could watch him undress. Those muscles were as tight and fluid as ever, and my fingers twitched to trace every line of him, to feel them tense while he thrusts into me. My mouth was watering to taste him.

He was on his knees, moving over me until he straddled my waist. Eyes hooded, not meeting mine, he curved over me till his lips brushed my lips. Soft and sizzling with intensity. His hand cupped my chin and then slid down my neck, fingers trailing over my skin, over my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and around my ribs. His lips followed behind, marking me everywhere.

I reached for the hard length of him, grabbing him in the palm of my hand, feeling his pulse quicken as I slid up and down his thickness.

He pushed my hand away from him with a deep, visceral growl. He snapped, gripping my thighs and slamming himself into me.

The suddenness broke me and made me cry out, a mixture of pain and ecstasy that had me shaking, antic.i.p.ating his next thrust.

And it came, over and over. He held me down by my shoulders with all of his weight, and my eyes rolled back as he pushed me to my limit and ripped through it. Never letting up until I was in tears.

"Regan," he panted my name, all of a sudden unmoving, hands still pressing me into the mattress.

I opened my eyes, meeting his wide ones that were full of panic.

"Oh s.h.i.t." He breathed deep as he pulled himself out.

My hands shot to him, gripping his arms before he could lift off of me. "No. Dont stop." My mind was swirling, my body arching for more, wanting him back. I never wanted this moment to end, this feeling. The pleasure and pain only he gave. It was keeping me together and pulling me apart. It was the verge of insanity, but I didnt care.

There was a second that I wasnt sure hed continue, and it was the worst fear Id felt. I couldnt handle him not finishing this thing he started.

He pushed back in, filling me and I wrapped my legs around his back, arching into him, trying to get back to that same raw rhythm. And he didnt disappoint. If anything he went harder, deeper, his body dripping in sweat.

I cried out as my body curled, tightened, and then broke in waves, releasing around him.

"You didnt deserve that." He was grunting through his thrusts, continuing his furious movement in and out.

"Hmm," I laughed, stretching my body under his as the pressure built again. It didnt matter what he said, because I got it. I wasnt worried with his words.

His fingers gripped my chin, forcing me to look at him. "I mean it. Youre mine and Im not letting you go."

I closed my eyes. More words that didnt matter. It didnt matter if he wanted to hold on to me, I didnt exist beyond this moment. There was only this moment. And I was swimming in it, pulled under by him.

He convulsed, body jerking hard with his release. His heavy weight dropped on me, covering me with his damp, heated body. My own muscles still quivered.

We lay still until the aftershocks stopped. My muscles were drained beyond exhaustion, I couldnt even see straight. He rolled to his side, and his fingers glided over my stomach and along my ribs, lulling me into sleep.

"You got a tattoo? When?"

I sucked in air, skin p.r.i.c.kling as he traced over the ink along my side.

"A couple of weeks ago."

His fingertips slowed as they ran over my scars. I didnt even have to open my eyes to know he had reached them.

"That guy from the station? He saw your scars?" His voice was barely a whisper, but it was razor sharp.

My eyes popped open and I slid off the bed as fast as I could. "Get the f.u.c.k out now."

He sat up. "I have a right to ask."

"No, you actually dont. I dont know what the h.e.l.l just happened between us, but it wasnt what you think."

"Bulls.h.i.t." He was out of bed now, both of us naked. "You just cant admit it. You keep running from it. But you belong to me and I belong to you. We took a f.u.c.king vow."

"That girls dead." I walked around him, picking up pieces of clothes from the floor to get dressed.

"Shes standing right there. Scared as ever."

"Thats where youre wrong." I stood up, clothes pressed to my chest. My thoughts suddenly became clear. This had been the last test and Id pa.s.sed. I wasnt that weak girl that couldnt say no to him. Id had him, and it changed nothing. "Im not scared."

His eyes narrowed, a touch of doubt darkening them, a c.h.i.n.k in his confidence. But he stalked towards me. "Then what are you? Because running sure as h.e.l.l seems like a cowardly thing to do."

"Youre a b.a.s.t.a.r.d." I knew what he was trying to do and I hated him for it. I couldnt let him tear me down. "Im just not the girl that loves you anymore."

He flinched at that. Hands curling at his side. "Dont f.u.c.king say that. I thought we were beyond lies."

"Its the G.o.d d.a.m.ned truth. Since I met you, I lost myself. All I was, was the girl who loved you, and look how that f.u.c.king ended. Im done with that. With her. With you."

He was silent and still, but anger rolled off him.

"Youll never be done with me. I wont let you. You cant run far enough away, Ill always find you." It was a low, deep threat, and every word shot through my heart.

He must have registered his words a second later because he loosened his fist at this side and took a step closer, hard lines melting into something softer. "I couldnt think with you gone. I cant function. Youre everything to me."

I shook my head. He couldnt wipe away what was already said, what had already been done. "Thats not true. You have your work. Im the one that had nothing but you. And now, I have nothing."

"You still have me."

I stepped back, pulling my arm behind me out of his reach.

"I never did. Not really. Now go."

He sunk to his knees, hands grabbing his hair. "Tell me what to do, Regan. Tell me how to make this right?"

This was the part I couldnt handle. It was easy to meet his anger with my own, but I couldnt meet his tears, his hurt, that would be too much pain to bear, and I may never pull it back in. I gripped the counter behind me to keep from moving to him, "Anything. Just tell me." Somehow he was in front of me, still on his knees, arms around my legs.

I patted his hair, giving a little comfort, knowing hed never do it. But Id tell him-the one thing. The thing I was going to do. The one thing I should probably never admit to him. But I couldnt keep it in because as much as I tried to deny it, my love for him was still strong. I was just done living for myself. Id already accepted there was no happiness for me; I might as well endure pain for a purpose.

"Go to the FBI with me."

His arms dropped away, and he fell back on his feet, eyes blank as they met mine, all tears burned up as his shock gave way to anger.

33: One Way.

NO WORDS CAME OUT OF HIS MOUTH, but he looked like he was ready to breathe fire.

I used the s.p.a.ce and time to attempt to get dressed, starting with my underwear, but I didnt get a chance to slide on my shirt before he finally found his voice.

"What the f.u.c.k is wrong with you?" He was on his feet now, every line of his muscles clenched and showing the strain of his anger. "FBI?" he spit the words. "Thats suicide. You cant do it, I wont let you."

I had paused when he spoke, but now I dropped my shirt over my head, feeling a little less vulnerable partially dressed. "I didnt ask for permission. You asked what you could do and thats it."

I reached for my jeans, but he yanked them from me, tossing them to the ground. "Youll die. Are you listening? Going to the FBI will get you killed, and not a quick death either. You cant do it."

"Im already dead. No matter what I do, theres something. I tried being loyal, and that didnt work; I still almost got killed."

"But you didnt," he gripped my shoulders, his voice low and rough, "You didnt die, and I cant let you do this."

My eyes locked with his. "Its not your choice to say what I do. You wont do it? Fine. But you cant stop me."

"Like h.e.l.l I cant."

I closed my eyes, done arguing something I couldnt convince him of. He couldnt stop me because he didnt have enough time to devote to keeping me, that I knew. When I opened them, he loosened his grip and was rubbing his palms up and down my arm; it made my stomach swirl with unease.

"Why? Why do you want to do this?" His voice was overflowing with concern and dread.

I shrugged away from his touch, trying to find the answer to that question. There were so many reasons, but I gave him the most honest. "Because I feel like Ive been banging my head into the same brick wall over and over and getting nowhere."