Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Shukumei ❯ Decision ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter Three

Decision

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She had no idea what she was doing.

She watched as Stacey walked towards the car rental clerk behind the desk and muttered something in a low voice that made the pretty brunette's skin flush. The girl's eyes flashed to her and shot back to Stacey's face before she began typing quickly into the computer directly in front of her.

She clutched her bag closer to her and fought the desire to scream.

What was she thinking running off with a stranger who had almost killed her? They had hardly spoke to each other after he had confronted her about what was in the bags, and the tension was giving her the jitteries, making her jump at every passing shadow, her shoulders hunching up in tension in response of every pair of eyes that fell on her. On the way to the car rental shop she had sensed a couple of them; the demons that she was running from, the ones who chased and threatened to kill her for months, and she had no idea why . . .

Why couldn't she remember?

She wanted to know why it is she had to run, why they fought so hard to kill her. She wanted to know who she really was, the person behind the face of the picture of the girl she had found. She wanted to know whether she had any family, how old she really was, and why she had awoken in an abandoned hospital naked and on the cold tile floor. Her first memory was of blood, being covered in the warm, sticky mass that dripped from her hair and bare skin, down her face, seeping into her mouth. It had covered the walls and the floor, had invaded her senses, had clouded her mind, and she had laughed . . .

Shivers erupted all over her body and she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut, and instantly she felt Stacey at her side, his hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes and he stared down at her, questions in his gaze. Seconds ticked by, her eyes staring into lavender orbs, and suddenly he flashed in her head again, his breath on her neck; his pupils dilated and his eyes bright and crazed, and she shied away. He looked as if he was angry for a second before turning away from her and back to the desk. She didn't miss the nasty look the brunette shot her as he bent over to sign some papers.

She dropped some keys into his hand with a blush and a wink and wished him well, and was out the door in a blur, grabbing Lily's shoulder on the way out. He walked over to a range rover jeep, a dusty green and quite old, and he eyed it skeptically before yanking open the door, lightly pushing Lily towards it.

Yanking away from his touch, she quickly scrambled in the car and he slammed the door behind her. He hurriedly rushed around the car and into the front, slamming the door and locking it before revving the engine and turning to look at her. "I'm not going to kill you," He said darkly, a scowl in place.

She jumped. "W-what?"

He blew a frustrated breath and shoved the car into reverse, sending it flying back. She gave a shocked cry and clawed at the doors of the car, and he shoved it back into drive, peeling off of the driveway and down the street. Seconds later, he made a right, taking an exit onto an interstate and he eased into a normal speed, rolling down the windows and allowing one hand to dangle casually out of it. She watched him from the corner of her eyes and thought wildly that he looked normal, if not human. She knew what he was capable of, knew what he was, and yet now . . . if she hadn't met him as she did . . .

She was a fool.

Yanking her eyes away from his almost perfect face, she allowed her bag to drop the floor between her feet and sighed, leaning back and watching the road out of her window.

"Why are you afraid of me?"

If she hadn't been acutely aware of him beside her, she would have missed his question that sounded so soft, so sincere. She glanced out him out of the corner of her eye and he was facing forward, seemingly engrossed on the road. They had only spent a couple hours together, but she knew that although he seemed aloof and carefree, he was able to discern whether or not they were safe. His relaxed demeanor told her for the time being she wasn't being chased; and besides, she knew he was perfectly capable of protecting her. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

She turned fully to him, waving her hand to implicate the car, him driving, and so much more. "Helping me . . . saving me . . . protecting me . . .?"

"Who said I was protecting you?" He snapped suddenly, gripping the steering wheel tight. "I helped you because it would have been the human thing to do---save a damsel in distress or whatever you want to call it. I saved you because I was trying to prevent my house from being destroyed, which was a waste of time."

She opened her mouth, but there was nothing she could say. He had a point, and for her to think that finally she would be able to rest her head without having one ear open, listening for stray footsteps or blood thirsty laughter, then she was a fool. Ducking her head, she sighed. "Thank you, for everything."

"I didn't do anything," He said again, darkly.

She flinched, realizing he was angry. "You've saved my life," She pointed out softly, looking at him again. "Even if it was only for a few days. I haven't slept since I woke up in that . . . place. It was because of you I finally got a chance to sleep peacefully, knowing nothing would happen to me."

"I could have killed you," He suddenly said harshly, staring her in her face now. "As you sleep, I could have sunk my claws into your skin and watched you bleed, and I would not have felt the least bit sorry."

"But you didn't," She said, staring right back at him, not blinking, unwavering. "And I know you won't. You told me you wouldn't."

He growled and looked away from her. "Do you believe everything everyone tells you?"

"Only when they're the only person I know."

She felt Stacey turn and look at her, but she turned and stared back out of the passenger window. Silence stretched between them, thick and tense, and she was hit with the fear that maybe she was going to have to fend for herself. A wave of panic hit her and she dug her nails into the seat. She felt foolish, she didn't even know who he was, but yet she was depending on him. She entrusted him with her life without a thought and now he was going to leave her, desert her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

"I won't let anything happen to you," He finally told her quietly, allowing both hands to grip the wheel. "Not as long as I live."

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Stacey rubbed a tired hand over his face and gripped the steering wheel tightly again, grimacing when the high beams of an oncoming car momentarily blinded him, and he slowed down. He checked to see if Lily had stirred and wasn't surprised to find that she hadn't been disturbed in the least. She had been fighting to stay awake, shooting him wary glances. That panic attack she nearly went into had taken hours for his body to slowly unclench and relax from its affects, and when he finally told her to go to sleep, she had slept with one eye open for the longest. Whatever made her finally fall asleep, her arms crossed over her chest, legs outstretched and slumped in the seat, he'd never know. But seeing her trust him, for a couple of hours in the least again made him feel something unfamiliar and strange, and he hadn't looked at her for the rest of the five hour drive.

'We need to stop for the night.' His mind told him harshly, and for once he didn't argue with it. They had been on the road most of the day, and now he looked up at the bright moon in the sky and felt a frown cover his face. It was later than he thought, and Lily . . . Lily deserved to rest her head as many times as he could allow her to.

'Since when do I care so much?'

'When you realized that you're her lifeline,' His mind whispered, tired and weak. He took the car into his right lane and onto a nearby exit, cruising because of the slight traffic on the interstate and turned onto an empty road, the side covered with trees. Turning onto the street, he allowed the jeep to cruise and ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes, and he glanced at Lily again. 'The moment you used the sword to protect her, the bond was formed.'

'The sword . . .' He glanced in the rearview mirror at the item in question, wrapped in a hoodie and laying across the seats in the back. The sword acknowledge his perusal, vibrating with power, it's aura seemingly filling the jeep, and wrapping around Lily protectively, becoming one with her aura, embracing her.

Taking his eyes off of her and back to the road, he felt a ripple of anxiety crawl up his back as he made the familiar turns that he knew so well, turning into a private driveway and up to the huge house that belonged to his closest friend. Killing the engine, he turned, entranced by how the sword still radiated around her, and he reached out, jarring her softly.

She comically jumped up, banging her head against the roof and rubbing it with a childlike pout, and Stacey snickered. "We're here."

"Here? Where is here?"

He stepped out of the car with a laugh. "My other house."

He heard her scramble out of the car behind him noisily and slam the door, and he reached into the backseat and grabbed the sword. He walked up to the front door and she followed closely behind, latching onto the back of his shirt as in ritual, and he shook his head, gently shrugging her off of him and then placing her in front of him.

Seconds later the door flew open and Stacey snatched Lily back behind him. "Put some clothes on you bastard!"

"Drop by during usual hours you son of a bitch!"

Stacey growled and reached out, slamming his hand into the center of the man's chest and sending him flying backward. Lily gasped behind him and he felt her fear spiking around him, and he turned slightly, opening his mouth to let her know everything would be alright when suddenly the world around him was flipped and he slammed into the side of the truck.

His friend stood on the steps of the house, hands placed on his bare hips in triumph as he grinned smugly at Stacey as he tried to gather his footing and shook the fuzziness out of his head. "That hurt, bastard," Stacey growled.

His friend laughed and eyed Stacey as he took a menacing foot forward. Suddenly they raced forward, colliding with a loud crash that made Lily scream, growls echoing in the round driveway, rolling around on the ground, fangs snapping, fists crashing into each other's face . . .

And then they laughed.

It escalated until it filled the whole area, they lay on the ground, stretched out, one completely naked and the other fully clothed, both now filthy, and Stacey reached over and punched his friend in the arm. There was a loud smack, followed by more laughter. Stacey stood up first and his eyes locked with Lily's wide ones. She stared at the both of them as if they were crazy, and his friend stood up and regarded her with curiosity. He took a step forward. "Hey, who is she---"

Stacey held his hand out and stood completely still. His friend stopped moving. He stared at Lily as her breathing grew more and more uneven, her eyes grew wider and wider, her panic and hysteria became thicker and thicker, and Stacey felt himself react to her. His blood raced, warmed in his veins, and he almost felt giddy. His friend made a move, and with a snarl directed in his direction Stacey stilled him. "Hey . . ."

"He . . . he tried to kill you . . ."

Stacey took a hesitant foot forward, and her breath caught, her eyes flashed to his movement, and he froze again. "No, he's going to help us. He was just being a bastard,"

"Yea, okay." His friend muttered.

Stacey took a step forward and her body tensed. "Hey? Look at me, okay? It's me. We're fine."

"He's . . . a friend . . ."

She looked up at him, her eyes were crazed with panic, devoid of any other emotion, and Stacey cursed himself for being so foolish. He and his friend always played like that, but he hadn't thought for a second about how she would react to them fighting . . . how it would affect her, when being attacked is the very thing she feared more than anything else. Stacey swallowed and slowly took another step forward. She looked back at his feet again. "Hey . . . Look at me. We're fine, okay? It was just a game, a stupid joke."

"A . . . joke?" Her gaze flashed to his friend behind her and Stacey was glad he was smart enough to stay completely still. He was now only a few feet towards her, and he slowly reached out his arm to her. She followed it with her eyes and then back up to his face, and he saw some of the panic slowly recede. "You guys were . . . joking . . ."

"We were, and I'm sorry," He said slowly, softly as she stared back down into his hand. Slowly her hand reached out, shaking and vulnerable, and she hesitated. "It's okay. Breathe for me, alright?" She took a deep breath and her hand stretched out, slipped into his and with an effortless tug he pulled her to him. She threw herself into his chest, wrapping her arms around his midsection tightly and let out a trembling breath. He sighed and smoothed her hair. "I'm so stupid. I'm sorry."

Her arms tightened around him but she didn't say anything, and Stacey turned and locked gazes with his friend.

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