Never (say goodbye) | Jamie x Reader | 28 Years Later | M | 2.5k
28 Years Later | 2.5k | Jamie x Reader
28 Years masterlist | Aaron Taylor Johnson character masterlist | AO3: Otaku_girl
Summary: A simple misstep leaves you injured on the mainland. With high tide rapidly approaching, Jamie refuses to leave your side.
Warnings: Potential spoilers for the film. Canon-level peril/fear.
A/N: New blorbo unlocked.
Links: Never (say goodbye) - AO3
Never (say goodbye)
“I’m so sorry.”
There isn’t time for mourning. It doesn’t matter that he has known you since you were both children. That you can still remember what things were like before. Before the outbreak. Before new rules. Before new ways of dying. Before the world went to shit. Before he was someone else’s and no longer yours.
You can see movement out of the corner of your eye as he scrambles down after you, bow still in hand, dark curls flying. The second he’s on his feet his bow is up and at full draw and he is moving, moving, moving.
“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, clutching at your ankle as he draws closer. You know you haven’t been bitten, that not a single drop of blood has gotten into you. It has been minutes, not seconds, and all you feel is weary acceptance. You both know what must happen now. You know that there is no coming back from this.
“Fuck.”
There are rules. Rules that everyone in your little community knows. Once you leave the island, no one is coming to save you. Each time you step past those gates and off onto the causeway, you know the risk you are taking. There are no rescues; it’s something everyone has learned the hard way. If you leave, you may never return. You knew the risks and now you will reap what you have sewn.
It doesn’t make it any easier as you stare down at your clearly broken ankle, miles from the causeway. Miles from safety, and with high tide only an hour away, maybe a little longer if you are lucky. Not that it matters; The moment you fell, the second you felt that embankment give out from under you, you knew what the outcome would be.
At least it wasn’t one of the infected, you think, swallowing back tears of pain and anger and fear. Christ, if a crawler took me out I would never live it down. At least this way, I can still choose to go out on my own terms.
“There’s nothing here, Jamie. It was just shitty luck. There’s no need to apologise; I know how this needs to end.” You wipe at your eyes with the heel of your hand, trying to hide how badly they are shaking. He isn’t even looking at you, still circling, still keeping watch for you both. It’s sweet, but stupid. He doesn’t have time for this.
“We all know the score. Get going. You still have time to find something worthwhile on your way back if you move quickly. Tell…” you trail off. There’s no one left to ask him to tell. Jamie’s all you have left. You hope he will move on, that he’ll find someone new he can settle down with. Someone else he can make happy. Being a widower twice over at his age won’t be easy, but what in this life is?
We may fall, but go on we must.
Your bow and arrows are long since gone, lost in your tumble. You squint, looking for them; anything to help speed up Jamie’s departure. Nobody can afford to leave weapons behind out here on the mainland. Your hand falls to your waist, to the knife that is still in your pocket. You should give it to him; it will be wasted on you soon enough. But, it would be easier than the alternatives. Jamie can forgive you for one last selfish act, can’t he? Even if you can’t forgive yourself. Will it be sharp enough to do the job? You aren’t certain, but you intend to find out. As soon as he’s gone.
Can I afford one more sunset? You rest your hand on the hilt, roughened fingertips running along the smooth wood.. Your hair hangs around your face in a limp curtain, obscuring the world from your view. Just a few more minutes. Just until I’m sure that he’s gone. Until I know that he won’t see.
Wind rustles through the trees, the faint sound of birdsong letting you know that, for now, there are no infected nearby. For now, you aren’t safe — nobody is safe — but you should have a little more time. You glance up, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Jamie as he leaves. There’s no point in prolonged goodbyes. The moment you tripped, the moment that you fell, he should have separated you out in his mind; you are part of his past now.
I should have listened to Jamie. I should never have come out here. It’s a fleeting thought and a ridiculous one. You could never have lived with yourself if you had left Jamie to come out here on his own, day after day, year after year. Now, you will have to pay the price.
Slowly, you look up through lowered lashes; you aren’t sure your heart can take it if he’s already passed over that ridge. If he’s already gone. Your heart stutters in your chest. Familiar boots stand less than a foot away. You sit back, eyes wide. His bow is no longer notched. Fury and fear and relief overwhelm you, choking you.
“You need to leave.” The words come out wobbly, your voice cracking. If he stays any longer, you are going to break. You are going to break, and you are going to beg for something that you have no right to ask for. And that? You can’t do that to him. That can’t be the last memory you leave him with. “What are you waiting for? Go!”
He has your bow slung over his shoulder alongside his, more arrows in his quiver than he had minutes earlier. He doesn’t say a word as he crouches beside you, taking in your ankle, a mess of blood and bone. He reaches for your neck and you think, for one blissful, calming moment, that he has found the strength to do it. To do what you know he would want done for him in return. Your eyes slide closed; if Jamie can give you this gift, you won’t force him to watch the life fade from your eyes.
Thick fingers tug the scarf from around your neck, snatching it away before you can open your eyes again. Between one breath and the next he shoves something between your teeth — the hilt of his knife — and then hands are on your ankle, forcing it straight, turning your vision white. You don’t make a sound; you can’t breathe, the pain overwhelming your senses, your world narrowing down to the white hot heat radiating out from your ankle. It hurts. It hurts so terribly, you aren’t sure how you are still conscious.
An eternity passes.
A whimper leaves your lips as the pain finally begins to fade. You aren’t sprawled on the grass anymore. Dark, lank hair brushes your cheeks. You’re bouncing. Why is the world moving? You force your eyes open. You’re in Jamie’s arms in a bridal carry, your cheek pressed against the dirty, faded red-pink fabric of his jacket as he runs.
The knife is no longer between your teeth but you wish that it was. You can’t hold back the little pained whimpers and gasps now that you have given them voice. You are going to give away your position if Jamie doesn’t do it first.
“What are you doing? You can’t protect yourself and hold me,” you say, gritting your teeth through the pain. Your hand spasms around his jacket, clutching it tightly between trembling fingers. He is going to get himself killed. “You can’t do this. You know the rules. You know—”
“I’m not losing you.”
“You already lost me. It’s already too late.” Breath hitching, a sob escapes from between your lips. You slap at his chest weakly, fingers curling into fists. His grip only serves to tighten. “Put me down, Jamie. I won’t take you with me. I won’t. You need to—”
“Either we both make it back home, or we spend our last moments together.” Arms — already so tight, so strong, so resilient — tighten further, shaking you as he forces you to meet his gaze. “I am not leaving you behind.”
The trees are beginning to thin. Water rushes somewhere nearby; you’re headed inland, not towards the shore. What is he thinking? He’ll miss low tide at this rate. Not that he has a hope in hell of making it while he’s carrying you, but without you? He still stands a chance.
“Think. You aren’t thinking clearly. You can’t make it back in time with me. I am slowing you down. I will get you killed. You have to—“
Sharp eyes flick towards you. It’s no more than a second that he holds your gaze, but it says everything that needs to be said. Your heart aches. He won’t be going back without you, no matter how much you try and reason with him.
You bite your lip, tears finally slipping free — not for yourself, but for him. “Stupid, stubborn, ridiculous man.”
“Aye, reckon I am. It’s one of the things you love about me.” His arms tighten around you. He’s moving with purpose. Not, you realise, panicking in his rush to put distance between you and the sight of your accident; the scent of fresh blood combined with the sound will have attracted more of them, and knowing your luck? It won’t be just the crawlers. No; he’s moving south, further inland. It doesn’t make any sense. Unless…
“No. It’s not safe to try the cottage. It’s half fallen down and we don’t have the supplies to make it anywhere near secure.” Desperation bleeds into your words, even as you are careful to keep your voice low. “Jamie, please… please. It’s time to let me go. Even if by some miracle we make it through the night, then what? My ankle isn’t going to be fixed by low tide. We will be sitting ducks trying to make it back to the shore.”
Jamie’s pace slows as you approach the edge of the treeline, the forest giving way to less familiar ground. You haven’t been out here anywhere near as much as he has. You know how much it worries him when you leave the island. You’re starting to think that he might have been right.
“Let me worry about that. When have I ever let you down? I’m going to get us home.” He adjusts his grip on you, and your arm goes around his neck instinctively. His face softens as he looks down at you, determination still shining clearly beneath it all. A broad hand comes up to cup your cheek, drawing your lips towards his. You’re not the only one with tears in your eyes as Jamie presses his forehead to yours and says, “Together, or not at all.”
Your ankle is screaming at you. It’s not far, you know, and Jamie is the one carrying you still, hauling you across miles upon miles without pause, without break. It jolts painfully as he runs; you don’t dare bite down on your lip to stifle the noise, lest you bite straight through it.
You take a steadying breath. I can’t let him do this. It is sweet, that he would be this devoted to you. But sweet won’t keep him safe and alive. I have to keep trying. For Jamie.
“Jamie. Love. I know we haven’t had as long together as we hoped, but… you have to learn to let go. I’d rather die knowing that you’re safe—“
“And I’d rather you not die at all! So, for god's sake, let me do this. Not for you. For me.”
Your heart aches. He has already lost so much. An islander born and bred, you know that their community lost so many in those first months. Nothing compared to the mainlanders; you remember fleeing, snatches of bloodstained memories that still haunt your dreams.
You remember your father falling before you reached Newcastle. Your Mam made it as far as Fenwick. It was a miracle you had made it as far as the causeway by yourself; you hadn’t even known what you were looking for, not really. You were just lucky that it was back in the days before new rules came into place. Before outsiders were no longer welcomed with open arms, and rescues were still possible.
You don’t remember much of those first months, those first years, living on the island. But you do remember him. The boy — not quite a teen, nowhere near a man — with the weary blue eyes and a soft smile for anyone who looked his way. You had thought, for a time… but then Jame and Isla had become Jamie & Isla, and you were no more than an afterthought.
It wasn’t as if there was an abundance of partners for you to choose from. You had told yourself you could be content to be alone. Had convinced yourself of it even, as you had moved from adolescence to adulthood, unable to help yourself as you had watched Jamie from the shadows.
Isla’s illness had been a blessing, and a curse. You had seen first-hand how it had devastated Jamie as she deteriorated. You had found yourself thinking thoughts no good person should have. He deserved better. He deserved to be free.
I always knew he was too good to be mine. What more proof could I need?
“You would find somebody else,” you murmur, your words almost too low to hear.
“There’s nobody else for me.”
You choke back the words threatening to spill from your mouth. He had thought that once before, hadn’t he? Had made promises to Isla he had made to no one else. Yet here you are, in his arms. He has done it once; he can do it again.
Blue eyes cut through you. You know if you turned now, you could see the cottage in the distance, half crumbling and with half a dozen outbuildings, each less stable than the last. He comes to a halt by the tree line, gently lowering you to your feet. You cling to his neck, your body unwilling to let go even as your mind protests. He slings one of the bows from his shoulder, pushing it and a handful of arrows into your limp grasp. You are careful not to allow your right foot to touch the ground.
“I love you.” He cups your cheek, pressing your foreheads together. Silent tears fall down your cheeks. There’s no point in warning you to run if you hear something, to leave if he isn’t out within a set time. You both know that if anything happens to him, it will be only minutes before the same happens to you. There will be no running.
“I’ll come back for you.”
You watch as he moves on silent feet, making his way to the cottage and the darkness beyond. Your heart clenches, yet you feel nothing but a sense of calm. No matter how much time you have left, at least you know that you will spend it together. He may not have said the words to you yet, but you can still hear them in every glance, in every move, in every action.
Warning: Violence. Mentions of torture. Mentions of SA. Mentions of Death.
The Lion & The Lioness Part 1
Sergei Kravinoff POV
I don’t remember much of that day when I first met her. I remember getting pulled out of school with my little half brother Dimitri. My father told me my mother took her life in the asylum that he had her locked away in for years. He was refusing to give her a proper funeral or let me see her because of it. Instead he took us to Africa to go hunting. I always hated hunting with my father. He hunted for sport, for trophies, not for food like a true hunter. But he wanted to hunt down the legendary lion known as Zar. But Zar was hunting us, hunting me.
I could have fired on Zar, but I couldn’t, I wouldn’t. Something stopped me, it wasn’t fear, but something else. Something I didn’t understand back then. But it stopped Zar too. I could see it in his eyes when I lowered my gun. He didn’t want to kill me either. But then my father shot at him, forcing Zar to attack me. It happened so fast, I just remember feeling the sharp pain coursing throughout my body. I was in and out of consciousness as I was being dragged across the field. I can hear Dimitri yelling for me. My father was actually trying to save me as he yelled my name. But it was too late, I was already gone, my body just didn’t know it yet.
I remember Zar stopped, while I was still in its jaws. I had so many questions when it did that. Why did it stop? Was he ready to eat me? Did he take me to his pride so other lions could feast on me? Then it started swaying me slowly as I heard a slight movement in the bushes. I was thinking it was my father or someone else from my father’s hunting party. But the footsteps were too soft, too quiet. Then I saw something, someone. Someone was walking towards me, she’s walking towards me. The sun shines bright behind her head, causing her to be shuddered by a glowing light. I thought I must be dead because she looked just like an angel.
“Please mighty Zar, let him go. He’s just a boy and he has done you no harm. Please, let him go.” She said and Zar stopped swaying me as she stepped closer. “Don’t take it out on him for what the others have done to you. Please allow him to go free.” I was dropped to the ground and I started groaning in pain. “Thank you.” She bowed her head slightly and I saw her slowly approach me. She knelt down beside me and gently rolled me onto my back. “You’re going to be okay, I’m here now.” She looked up at Zar. “You must go on now, before they find you.” I could see the lion slowly walking off.
She looked back down at me and she moved my hair from my face. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to save you.” She said as she smiled down at me. My eyes were heavy as everything around her started to fade away. “Here, drink this.” I refused. “Please, it’s the only way to save you. Please drink it.” She held my head up as barely managed to open my mouth and consume the drink. I swallowed it all and she put my head back down. “There you go.” She smiled again as she started playing with my hair. “Just close your eyes and rest.” I looked at her, panicking. “Don’t worry, you will wake up again, I promise. Now rest.” I saw her pulling out something, it was a card. I could feel her place it in my hand. “You're going to be okay. You're safe now. I promise.” She started humming softly, then she started to sing.
“Heart beats fast. Colors and promises. How to be brave? How can I love when I’m afraid to fall? But watching you stand alone. All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow. One step closer. I have died every day waiting for you. Darling, don’t be afraid. I have loved you for a thousand years. I’ll love you for a thousand more.”
My mother used to do this when I was a child to help me sleep. It brought me comfort, hearing her voice. Now this girl’s voice is bringing me comfort. Reassurance that I will wake up from this. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep to the sound of her heavenly voice, and I started to dream of her.
Normal POV
Few Days Later: Outside Of London
“I wonder if I’ll ever see you again.” Sergei said as he looked down at the tarot card of strength in his hand. “Hmm, maybe just in my dreams.”
“Sergei!” Nikolai called out. “Come down here!”
He sighed as he put the tarot card on his desk. He got up and headed downstairs to his father’s study. There he started being scolded for being afraid and for not taking the shot on Zar. Tell Sergei if he was weak like his mother or like him. Talking about showing weakness and how it would give his enemies an opening. And how Sergei was going to stay with him while he sent his brother back to school. Because he wanted him to learn his business, so one day Sergei could take over his crime empire. Then he showed Sergei that he killed Zar and took his head, claiming so he no longer needed to be afraid.
“He should’ve killed you!” Sergei yelled.
First time ever he yelled at Nikolai. He took off running to his room, locking himself in and locking the secondary door that was open to Dimitri’s room. Then he heard tapping on his window, it was a falcon. He went over and stared at it as it stared back at him. He felt like the falcon was trying to tell him something. Then the falcon flew off and Sergei knew what he was trying to say, he was telling fly away. He went over and grabbed his backpack, and started placing everything he needed inside. Clothes, money, passport, his mother’s letters, and the tarot card. Then picked up his torn bloody shirt from when Zar attacked him. And when he did, a vile fell from it. He picked it up and looked at it, it was the vile that the girl had given him. There were still a few drops left in it, so he put it in his pocket.
Afterwards he got dressed and waited for the cover of nightfall. Once his father was asleep, Sergei opened up his window and climbed out onto the ledge. He walked along it till part of it gave way and he fell, and landed like a cat on the ground. Sergei jumped to his feet and looked up to see he fell from three stories without being hurt. He started walking, making his way off the property when he ran into his little brother.
“Don’t leave me here with him.” Dimirtri said, shaking his head. “Please don’t.”
“I have to go,” Sergei said, walking over to him, placing his hands on his shoulders. “I can’t stay here anymore. Something… Something is happening to me.”
“What are you talking about?” Dimirtri said, getting overwhelmed. “What’s happening to you?”
“I can't explain it, little brother.” Sergei said, shaking his head. “But I feel it, deep down, I’m changing. So I need to leave.” Dimitri put his head down. “Do you remember the place we used to camp?” He looked back up. “Where all you could hear were the crickets and the owls? And mom used to sing to us around the fire?”
“I remember.” Dimitri said, nodding his head.
“That land is all I have left of her.” Sergei said.
“How does that make it okay?” Dimitri said.
“Picture me there.” Sergei said and Dimitri scoffed. “I’m sorry Dima. I am.” He pulled him into a hug. “I won’t be gone forever. I’ll come back, I promise.” He pulled him away from and flicked his ear. “Take care of yourself little brother.”
Dimitri nodded and Sergei hurried off into the night. He traveled on foot till he made it to the docks by midday. He walked around, looking for anyone that was willing to allow him passage to Russia. Finally he came across a cargo ship that was preparing to leave.
“On this? You want to go to Russia on this?” The captain asked as they started taking off the ropes. “You know there’s planes and trains for that, don’t you?” He looked down at Sergei. “Are you on the run?”
“Yes, I am sir.” Sergei said, nodding his head. “Can you help me?”
“Come on, then.” The Captain said, offering his hand to Sergie to help him on the boat. He took his hand and he pulled him up. “It seems like my ship has officially become a ship for those on the run.”
“What do you mean?” Sergei asked
“Just a while back I picked up a girl about your age from Africa.” The Captain said, waving Sergie to follow him as he went around the deck. “She said she was on the run too. Don’t know from what, but she looked really shook up though. She kept looking over her shoulder, like she was expecting someone to come up behind her. She hasn’t slept since she’s been here, she’s too jittery too. She’s just been outside on the deck, staring at the ocean. There,” He pointed up at the top deck. "That's her.”
“It’s her.” Sergei whispered, as a smile crept on his face. “It’s really her.”
“Won’t you introduce yourself. Just take the stairs there.” The Captain said, as pointed over at the stairs. “You’ll be rooming with her till we get to Russia.” He started walking away. “I want you to be on your best behavior and keep your hands to yourself.”
“Yes sir.” Sergei said, nodded his head. “I will.”
He headed to the stairs as the Captain made his rounds. When he started walking up the steps, he could hear her singing softly. He smiled at how her voice sounded just as he remembered, heavenly. She was even singing the same song he heard her sing that day she saved him. Sergei made it to the top deck, where he could see her leaning against the railing. The ship started taking off, causing a breeze to flow through her hair. He breathed in her scent, she smelled like sweet morning dew. He walked over to her slowly as he kept his eyes on her.
“Hello.” Sergei said, making her jump as she spun around. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Will you…..” She said, paused as she looked at his face. “Did.” She tilted her head. “Are you…” He smiled at her. “No, it can’t be.” She shook her head. “Can it?”
He took off his backpack. “I think this belongs to you.” Sergie said, as he pulled out the tarot card then handed it to her.
She looked down at the card and her eyes widened. “It is you.” She said as she looked up at Sergei. “You’re the boy Zar attacked. I feared I was too late.”
“Did cut it kinda close though,” Sergei said with a smirk. ‘I was dead for three minutes. But it would have been a whole lot longer if you hadn't been there.” She smiled at him. “I’m Sergei Kravinoff,” he offered his hand to her. “I’m actually on the run too.”
“Melinda Northman,” Melinda said, shaking his hand before letting it go. “I’m glad to see you're safe.” Her smile faded. “Wait, you said you're on the run too. Does that mean you're not safe?”
“I’ll be okay, you said so yourself remember?” Sergei said, making her blush. “Are you safe? You are running away after all.” She looked away. “Who are you running from?”
“I don’t think you should get involved. Here,” Melinda said. She took his hand and placed the card on it “Keep this. The tarot card of strength is very powerful. It doesn’t just deal with strength, but courage, compassion and kindness. This card will keep you safe.”
“Alright.” Sergei said, taking the card back. “If it will keep me safe, then I’ll keep you safe.”
“What?” Melinda said, looking confused. “Why would you do that?”
“You saved my life,” Sergei said, smiling. “I kinda owe you one.” She smiled back. “So, what are you running from?”
“I don’t think you would believe me even if I told you.” Melinda said.
“Try me.” Sergie said.
“For ten years now I’ve been on the run from a group of men, hunters, that call themselves The Men of Letters.” Melinda said.
“The Men of Letters?” Sergie said.
“Yes.” Melinda said, looking back out to the ocean. “This world is not what it seems, Sergei. There are beings that roam amongst that we thought were mere myths. Beings that have unbelievable abilities that we can only dream about. These supernatural beings are what The Men of Letters hunt down. They torture, rape, and butcher them like they are nothing.” She gripped onto the railing. “They held me for over a year before I made my escape. They want me back because I’m… I’m different. They, made me different. It’s why I went to Africa. I was looking for a way to be normal. So I won’t have to keep running and always looking over my shoulder. I’ll finally be free and,” She let out a sigh. “I won’t be alone anymore.”
“But Melinda, you being different, that’s what saved me.” Sergei said. She looked over at him. “That’s how you got Zar to let me go. You being different saved my life.” He pulled out the vile and showed her. “What was in here?”
“I don’t know exactly what it was.” Melinda said. “I was introduced to a voodoo priest named Papa Midnite who said this drink would not only grant what you want the most, it will give you what you needed the most. So I was going to use it to take away my magic.”
“Your magic?” Sergei asked
“Yes.” Melinda said, He looked confused. “The Men of Letters, they made me into… into a witch. A chaos witch. Though there are many types of witches, there has never been a chaos witch before. It’s supposed to be a myth, an urban legend. At least.” She looked away. “That’s what Midnite says. But I don’t want to be, I never asked to be. Granted through the years, I started being thrilled that I was a witch. I’ve been able to survive because of them. I thought I could use my magic to help people. But the people that I have come across are either afraid of me or want me dead. Then the ones that are chasing me, want to use my magic for their own agenda. That’s why they… they forged me into the chaos witch. That’s why I was going to take the drink. If I am no longer the chaos witch, they can no longer use me. But you were in trouble and I wanted to help. I wanted to save you.”
“You did more than save me, that drink is changing me.” Sergei said and she looked over at him. “I don’t know how, but I feel it. I feel it in the way I move, it’s almost unreal. I’m… I’m different now.”
“I’m sorry, Sergei. I..” Melinda said, shaking her head as she panicked. “I didn’t mean to do that to you. I’m sorry. I.. I..”
“Hey. Hey. It’s alright.” Sergei said, smiling. “It’s alright really. At first I was freaked out a bit by it, but seeing you again and talking to you. It kinda all makes sense now.”
“How so?” Melinda asked.
“You said that the drink was not only supposed to grant you what you want the most, but also will give you what you need the most. Maybe,” Sergei said, smiling down at her. “What you need the most, is someone to protect you. Someone that’s different like you. Someone, so you won’t be alone anymore.” She started blushing so she turned away. “Melinda, I’m going to Russia and I want you to come with me.” She looked back at him. “My mother’s family has a property there, it stretches out for thousands and thousands of miles. It has a wide open plain, a forest, and a river that cuts through it. It even has its own little beach. Plenty of wildlife to live off of. And no one lives anywhere close to it, it’s remote. There’s also a place there that we used to stay at for the summer, that you and I can turn into our home. You’ll be safe there, I promise. You’ll never have to run or look over your shoulder again. And you’ll never be alone again. I promise.”
“I don’t know if I should be happy or,” Melinda said, smiling. “Freaking out by this offer. It’s kinda like a story, where a boy meets a girl and pledges all sorts of stuff to her after barely talking to her.”
“I thought all women wanted a man like that.” Sergei asked, making her giggle. “Melinda,” He closed the gap between them as he looked down into her eyes. “Thank you for saving my life. Please allow me to turn the favor, and protect you from The Men of Letters.”
“They’re very dangerous men and very powerful. ” Melinda said. “Are you sure protecting me is what you really want to do? Knowing you may die trying to save me.”
“Yes.” Sergei said, nodding his head. “I’m sure. Plus,” He smirked. “What else are a couple of teenagers on the run supposed to do?”
“I suppose you're right.” Melinda said, smiling as she held out her hand. “It's a deal then.”
“Deal,” Sergei said, shaking her hand. ‘You're safe as long as you're with me.” He let go of her hand. “And I promise, one day I will hunt The Men of Letters down and put an end to them.”
“Alright then hunter,” Melinda said, smiling as she turned back to the ocean. “All I have to say is, you better not turn around and start hunting me too. Otherwise.” She looked at him, smirking. “I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”
“Oh you can try, little witch.” Sergei said, smirking back as they both looked out into the ocean. “You can try.”
The Lion & The Lioness Part 2
Note: Banner was made by me, using Canvas. Normally I do gifs in the story as will, but I think I will add them later when I have more time to edit.
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Ready | Jamie x Reader | 28 Years Later | E | 6.8k
28 Years Later | 6.8k | Jamie x Reader | Explicit 🔥
28 Years masterlist | Aaron Taylor Johnson character masterlist | AO3: Otaku_girl
Summary: When you hear that Jamie intends to take one of your best students, Spike, to the mainland, you can’t help but try and intervene. Upon their return, you have an unexpected run-in with Jamie.
Warnings: Potential spoilers for parts of 28 Years later.
A/N: Smut at last 🔥
Links: Ready by Otaku_girl on AO3
Ready
“What’s he in trouble for?”
You look over your shoulder, back towards the door, hand hovering. You are still in the midst of tidying despite the late hour; cleaning off the blackboard, wiping away layers of dusty chalk from the day. Your classroom has long since emptied out, the last of the children safely home with their parents. You like to linger, for a time at least. To give working parents a chance to drop in and ask any questions — and to give parents you have requested to talk to the chance to gather their courage.
He’s standing in the doorway, hovering just past the threshold as though he is afraid to step foot into your classroom. You recognise him — it’s impossible not to know everyone, with how close knit the community is — though you haven’t had cause to speak with him often. Isla was always the one to bring Spike to school when he was young enough to still need an escort, but as her trips outside of their house had grown less frequent and Spike had become more confident in bringing himself to school, there had been no real reason for you and Jamie to cross paths.
“Trouble? Oh, no, no! No one is in trouble,” you say, wiping off your hands on your skirt. You send him a reassuring smile; it does little to put him at ease. If anything, it looks as if he is considering bolting. “Spike is such a delight. Polite, sweet, and helpful, too. Always offering to help with the little ones. I just wanted to have a quick word with you. Before…”
“Before?” Jamie prompts as you trail off, the silence between you growing heavy and uncomfortable.
Some of the tension seeps from his shoulders; it’s as if seeing your nerves is helping put him on more even ground. He smiles at you, warm and inviting this time - not a hint of nerves, in a way that makes your stomach flip and your cheeks warm. There aren’t many young men in your community; they are all too old or too young. There are virtually none in the right age range that aren’t already taken. Your mind flashes guilty back to Isla and the warmth fades. Sick isn’t gone. Jamie isn’t free to do as he pleases, and neither are you, if you wish to remain respectable. Who would want to entrust their children to a teacher who makes mooneyes at their husband?
He is just being friendly and nothing more, you silently admonish yourself, trying to focus on the task at hand. You asked him here for a reason, and that certainly wasn’t to bat your eyelashes at him.
“Before…” You trail off, eyes lingering on him, trailing up from his worn boots and weathered jeans to his faded jacket. Up, and up, and up, to the quirked half-smile on his lips as he watches you in return, clearly amused. Broad hands push deep into his pockets as he leans against the doorframe. His gaze remains respectfully focused on your face.
Everyone likes Jamie. What isn’t to like? He’s always got a smile on his face and is ready to lend a helping hand, even with so much already on his own plate. Just last spring, he was one of the first to volunteer to come and help patch up the school hall before the damage to the roof could get bad enough to become a real problem. Unfortunately for you, that only serves to make this conversation that much more awkward. You would never act on your little crush, but that doesn’t serve to make it any less embarrassing. It’s almost as if he can sense it. Are you really that obvious? Or is he just cocky?
You take a steadying breath. “Friday. Before Friday.”
“Ah.” His relaxed posture melts away. Jamie straightens, shoulders back, head held high. It’s like seeing an entirely different man. Gone is the kind yet jovial man, the one who can go from quietly fading into the background to being the heart and soul of the party. There’s no trace of the more softly spoken man who crept up to your door like a puppy waiting to be scolded. Is this what he is like out there, on the mainland? Is it this confidence that sees him going and coming, again and again and again, without more than the occasional bruise to show for his efforts? “That’s what this is about. If you’ll excuse me.”
He turns to leave and you find yourself halfway across the classroom, hand outstretched, words ringing throughout your empty classroom. You have to say something; no one else will. Someone needs to stand up for the boy, now that Isla can’t, or won’t. And if that means setting yourself up as the bad guy? You’re willing to do whatever it takes to protect one of your kids.
“Jamie, wait! Please,” He turns back towards you and your footsteps come to a halt. This is a good sign. You take a shaky breath, forcing a wobbly smile onto your lips. “Spike is a great kid. But that’s the thing; he is still a kid. He’s only twelve. Fifteen is more traditional. Fourteen if you really think he’s ready. Don’t you think—”
“You don’t have any kids of your own yet, do you?” His words are cutting in a way that is completely unexpected. Your eyes widen, words momentarily failing you. This isn’t anything like the Jamie you have seen from a distance before. Softly spoken, his words sound sure and almost condescending, as though you are talking about something far beyond your own understanding.
“Excuse me?”
His beard twitches as his smile grows. He hooks one hand inside of his pocket, the other going up to brush back wild, loose curls. “You don’t. I can tell. I’m sure you mean well, Ms—”
And doesn’t that sting? An island of less than two hundred, and he can’t even remember your name.
“—but, respectfully: mind your own fuckin’ business. Have you been back to the mainland? Even once, since the outbreak?” Jamie watches you with unblinking eyes and you feel yourself flush.
Heat creeps up the back of your neck and you can’t quite meet his eyes. Sweaty palms rub against your skirt, your skin prickling at the mere thought. “I don’t see how that’s got anything to do with—”
“Aye, that about tracks. You aren’t even old enough to remember before, are you? Born here. Born, and raised, and with a bit of luck, one day, you’ll die here having never set foot on the mainland if you can help it.” Jamie shakes his head, sharp blue eyes trailing across you now, taking in every detail and finding you wanting. “You don’t see, because you haven’t seen them. All you’ve got are stories to work from. Stories, and the sound of sirens when one of them big fuckers makes a dash for the gates.”
It’s not a common occurrence, but it has been known to happen. More than once. The sound of those sirens going off haunts your dreams, jolting you awake in a cold sweat more nights than not. You can’t imagine how badly you would sleep, if you had ever seen one of the infected up close and personal. In all honesty? You don’t know how he does it.
Knuckles rap on one of the wooden desks, the sound echoing throughout your classroom. You meet Jamie’s gaze. It feels like you are the one who has been called in for a talking to, not the other way around. “You think coddling him will fix anythin’? It won’t. The more he kills, the easier it will get. I’m giving him the best chance of survival that I can.”
“By taking him out there? By putting him in the line of danger and, what? Hoping that a twelve year old has stronger nerves than a man twice his age?” You have all heard the whispered stories of hunters who froze on their first hunt, and of hunters who lost their nerve after nearly three decades of trips back and forth to the mainland. What hope could a sweet young boy like Spike possibly have out there?
“By doing whatever it takes.” Jamie’s words ring out throughout the room, loud and harsh and final. You flinch, taking a step back. “And I don’t need you or anyone else to like it. I just need that boy safe.”
He turns to leave and you reach for him without thinking, hand encircling his arm. Before you realise what is happening Jamie swings around towards you, his opposite hand raised high. Eyes slamming shut you flinch back, anticipating a hit that never lands. Harsh breathing fills the air. Your eyes creep open. Jamie looms above you, hand still raised. He’s looking at it as if he doesn’t know how it got there in the first place. As if he can’t believe what he was about to do.
“The more you kill, the easier it gets,” you murmur, throwing his words back at him.
“I didn’t. I would never…” He drops your arm as if burnt, taking several stumbling steps back. His fist hits the nearest desk, making the wood shudder and creak. You watch, unmoving, unwilling to risk bringing his attention back towards you as he hits it again, and again, and again. Knuckles begin to split by the time you next speak, voice pitched low and insistent.
“What does Isla have to say about this, Jamie? About you taking her baby out there?”
“Don’t.” Jamie doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his voice cracking, hair falling around his face, obscuring him from your view. By the time that he stands he has control over himself again. That mask of politeness is firmly back in place; if you hadn’t seen it for yourself, you would think this is what he really is like. That he is no more than friendly smiles and a neighbourly helping hand. You wonder what else you — what everyone — might have missed.
He always seems so strong. Is… is he really alright?
“Spike will be back in class on Monday. I expect we’ll see you at the celebrations tomorrow night. Though, there’s no need to push if you aren’t feeling up to it. Nobody would want to see you upset with stories about the mainland,” Jamie says, flashing you a sharp smile. “I reckon it might be too much for you. There’s no shame in knowing your own limitations.”
The way that he says it makes you want to slap him. Anger and shame swirl together in your chest as you watch him leave. That man is going to get his son killed, and there is nothing you can do about it. Nothing anyone can do about it, as long as Spike is the one to choose to set foot outside of those gates. And a sweet boy like Spike? You can’t imagine him doing anything that might displease his father.
All that I can do is wait.
“So there were eight of them, right? Eight! And what does mister big balls over here start doin’? He starts fuckin’ shooting at ‘em! One, then another, then another.”
A roar goes up around the room as Jamie’s story grows louder and more outlandish the deeper into his cups that he gets. Spike is sitting in front of him, clearly nervous and uncomfortable, yet he doesn’t say a word to contradict his dad.
He really is a good lad. Your heart twinges as you watch him being swept up into the crowd, dozens upon dozens of voices raised in good cheer as what feels like half the island celebrates the newest addition to the ranks of the hunters.
Despite the raucous party surrounding you, the past forty-eight hours have been amongst the more unpleasant in recent months. Your own fear had tainted your night on the Thursday, bleeding into the school day and seeing throughout your lessons on Friday as everyone waited for word of their return. Jubilation had turned sour that first night, when high tide came in and not a single sighting had been had of father and son. Nobody had wanted to take the banners down; it had seemed too much like a bad omen to remove them so soon.
You press your hands against your thighs, wiping away the faint sheen of sweat gathered there. You had awoken to sirens. Of course you had, everyone had; the gate had been under attack. Curtains twitched and faces twisted with terror and weary resignation peered outside, weapons in hand and a shared question in your minds: Would today be the day that the world as you knew it changed again?
Having your little row cottage so close to the gates had never felt more like a blessing and a curse. Were the gate ever to fall, you would be amongst the first hit. Yet in the early hours of the morning, it had felt like a blessing, as you had been amongst the first to see their safe turn.
Sleep had been impossible, even long after the all clear was given. Just what had they seen? How bad had it been, for them to risk bringing one back in their wake?
A cheer goes up and you see hands clapping on Spike’s back, Jamie raising a drink in his honour. A glass is pushed into his hand and he drinks. The way that his face twists in displeasure at the taste brings a delighted laugh from you and others around you. For all that everyone seems happy to let his boy play at being a man, there are still some things he is too young to understand.
Shaking your head, you turn your attention back to your own drink. You wonder how much of Jamie’s stories are true; you suppose you will never know. You aren’t about to ask Spike about it come Monday, and if you can avoid speaking to that father of his again, well. After your last conversation? It seems like it might be for the best.
As Spike’s chair is lifted and carried around the room in a raucous victory parade, you take it as a sign that it is time for you to leave. Jamie was right about one thing; You shouldn’t have come. Yet… you couldn’t bear the thought of not being here; of not seeing for yourself that one of your charges had returned home safely.
You let the door fall shut behind you as you go out into the cool night air. Pulling your cardigan more tightly around you to fend off the bitter chill, you turn down cobblestone streets, your own tiny row house not that far of a walk away. The sounds of the party floats out, dispelling any calm that the night would usually bring. Behind you the door bangs again, the roar of a hundred voices swelling and ebbing as it opens and shuts.
Picking up your pace, you hear footsteps hurrying behind you. The last thing that you want is to stay behind and talk about any of your students' progress with their rosy-cheeked and loose-lipped parents. If they want an update, they can come and visit you during more reasonable hours.
“Fuckin’ hell, you walk quickly. Wait!” a familiar voice calls and you stumble, feet going out from beneath you. It's surprise more than anything that sends you tumbling. You brace, ready to hit the cold cobblestone floor, when a broad hand takes hold of your arm, hauling you up, keeping you steady on your feet. Your momentum slams you into his warm chest, cheek pressing against worn fabric as your saviour does his best to help you stay standing.
“Thank…” Your words die in your throat as you catch sight of Jamie. “... you.”
Jamie smiles down at you, the corners of his lips twitching upwards. His eyes look softer than you remember; you wonder if it’s the relief of having returned home safely, of having been right about Spike being ready. Or maybe it’s just from indulging in one too many drinks.
“Didn’t expect to see you here. Not after all of that conscientious objecting you were doing,” he says, hand lingering on your arm. You try to pull it back, ignoring the heat spreading across your cheeks. “I was right. He was ready.”
“He was lucky,” you say sharply, meeting Jamie’s gaze. The jovial smile falls — not completely, but enough to see the harder edge lurking beneath. “Tell me, how many of those little stories of yours were real?”
“There’s always a grain of truth in the best stories.”
“Is there anything more than a grain?”
He laughs and you take a startled step back, not expecting the loud, bright sound. He shakes his head, his grip on your arm loosening then falling. You will have bruises there come morning.
“He made his first kill and he held his own. Stood his ground there better than men I’ve been out with twice his age. He deserves a night to feel good. Boost his confidence, like,” Jamie says steadily, not a hint of shame about him.
You arch an eyebrow, lips pressed into an unimpressed little line. “You know what they say; overconfidence will get you killed.”
“Aye, and don’t they also say believe in yourself and you’re halfway there. Bit of confidence would do him the world of good,” Jamie says. “Doesn’t do anyone any good for him to be scared of his own shadow, least of all him.”
“He isn’t,” you say, shaking your head. Spike may not be the most confident of your students, but he’s far from the most timid, either. “He’s stronger than you might think. Being sweet and kind doesn’t somehow make him weak. He doesn’t need bravado to survive.”
“Doesn’t he? You think any of us felt confident the first time we went back over the causeway, knowing what’s waiting for us over there? Knowing we have people here relying on us to come back?” You take an unsteady step back, then another, and another. Jamie matches you step for step. Your back hits the wall and you tilt your head back, doing your best to keep holding his gaze despite the overwhelming urge to look down. It would be a concession too far. “I never said he was weak. Don’t you go putting words in my mouth now.”
His eyes dip to your lips and time stands still. You shouldn’t do it. You shouldn’t give this infuriating man another moment of your time. Any bad blood between you will fade when given enough time and space; it isn’t as if anyone has the luxury of holding a grudge anymore. And now that Spike has gone on his first hunt? Nobody will bat an eye if — when, you can’t help but think, — just like his father, he chooses to go to the mainland again.
“I just want him to be safe,” you confess, voice barely more than a murmur. You are tired of losing former students, still too young, too over confident, not ready, no matter how much you try to help them prepare.
“That’s one thing we can agree on.” Jamie’s hand drops from your arm to glance across your waist, fingertips brushing against the delicate curve with a featherlight touch. He looks at you with a softness in his gaze that isn’t expected.
It’s enough to break the last of your resolve.
Hands clutch at his jacket, pulling him down and towards you. Jamie’s eyes widen as you press your mouth to his. His lips are warm and plush. A little noise of surprise leaves his lips as they part, allowing your tongue to slip inside. The tickle of his beard against your bare skin is almost enough for you to pull back, dark hair brushing against sensitive cheeks. He tastes of homebrewed beer: sour, vinegary notes clinging to the edges of his mouth. You pull back, greedily sucking in a little breath before his lips are on yours again, broad palms falling to cup your cheek and hip, the line of his body pressing against yours from chest to thigh.
Warmth blossoms in your chest, sparks igniting at each fresh point of contact. The scent of salt and sweat clings to his skin. Jamie’s lips brush against yours, tentative at first, growing in confidence as the first breathy whimper falls from your lips.
You can’t feel the chill in the air anymore, your senses alight with Jamie’s overwhelming presence. The heat of his skin, the gentle pull of his lips, the firm reassurance of his hands chasing away all thoughts of the outside world. You could happily lose yourself beneath his lips and teeth and tongue.
The sound of laughter and joyous shouts swells again, the bright, warm glow lighting up the pathway as another couple spills out onto the street. It is only through sheer luck that they stumble right instead of left, making their way towards the beach instead of coming across the two of you.
Hands press against Jamie’s chest, forcing him back as he leans in to try and kiss you again. You turn your head as he persists, lips trailing from your jaw, nipping at the delicate column. “Stop. Jamie, stop. We can’t do this. Somebody might see.”
“Anybody leaving that party has better things to do than sneak around looking for us.” He cups your hips between his hands, one wandering behind you to caress the swell of your behind. Shuddering beneath his touch, you try to remain focused. “So uptight. I’ve got just the thing to help…”
His words don’t fully register; one moment you feel his heat against you, the next, you blink down at him as he sinks to his knees, making himself comfortable between your legs. Broad shoulders urge you to part your thighs, thick fingers reaching for the hem of your skirt. Your head falls back against the wall with a thump. You try to catch your breath, to remind yourself of why this is such a bad idea. Calloused fingertips brush against your thighs, inching up, and up, and up. It feels so different from your own touch you can think of nothing else. He flips the edge of your skirt, hiking it up to your waist, and he groans.
Jamie cups you through your underwear, the heat of his hand radiating out across your rapidly dampening skin. The fabric is starting to turn translucent as your need grows, the hot puff of his breath through the thin layer is enough to make you sigh. He laughs, pressing a kiss to your thigh in a move more tender than you would have thought possible. You stare down at him with wide eyes as he guides your hand into his hair, curling your fingers in the dark waves as he hooks a thumb over the waistband of your underwear and holds it in place.
Hot lips press against the wet fabric, kissing your mound through the thin barrier. Jamie inhales, letting out a pleased hum as the natural earthy yet sweet scent of you washes over him. Fingers tighten in his hair reflexivity as he teases you, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses across the fabric.
“Jamie, please,” you gasp, tugging on his hair, trying to guide him where you need to feel him the most. Wide, mischievous blue eyes stare up at you from between your thighs; he looks almost boyish like this, the weariness that clings to all of you falling away from his face as he lets himself enjoy this moment. “Don’t tease.”
“Yes, Ms. Are you always this bossy? Or am I just special?” he asks, lips twisting into a wide grin as your gaze turns incredulous. ”I reckon it’s a teacher—“
Tugging on the back of his hair firmly his eyes widen as you force his head back; it’s no more than an inch, two at the most, but you see him swallow hard, the exposed line of his throat quivering as his adams apple bobbs, gaze locked firmly with yours.
“If you even think about mentioning my students right now we are going to have a problem, Jamie,” you warn him, fingers tightening. You both know that he could overpower you easily; other than the mandatory drills, you aren’t the sort to work out like hunters like Jamie need to in order to keep themselves strong and safe. It wouldn’t surprise you if he could lift you with little effort. Yet he remains happily on his knees, letting you guide him, that same playful, teasing little smile slipping into a smirk at the edges of his lips. “I mean it.”
“You really think that’s what I want to talk about right now?” Jamie asks, eyebrows raised, voice low and husky and filled with incredulity. A breathy laugh escapes from you and you shake your head, the tightness in your chest giving way to anticipation.
Thumbs hook over the waistband of your panties, blue eyes holding your gaze; he slips them down without looking away. You hardly dare to breathe as the cold night air meets your heated flesh, sending a wave of goosebumps skittering across your skin. Now that you are exposed fully, you realise how wet you are. Jamie eases the sodden fabric down as far as your knees before he focuses his attention higher, rough hands gently pressing your thighs apart.
He slowly moves his head down, ignoring the way that your fingers still tangle painfully in his hair. Jamie hums, pleased, as he takes you in for the first time, a single, thick finger brushing over thatch of hair covering you. Cheeks heat, lips part, an excuse ready on the tip of your tongue when Jamie presses forward and your world narrows to nothing but him.
Broad hands hold your thighs apart as his nose presses against your folds, trailing down from the soft, downy hair to the slick lips hidden below. Jamie’s tongue moves leisurely as he licks a stripe across you, teasing across your entrance before moving up, and up, and up. His nose bumps the eager nub of your clit, his tongue soon following. Your head thumps back against the wall, the momentary jolt of pain not enough to register as he hums again, pleased with what he finds.
You can’t remember when you last did something like this. No, that isn’t true — you know you have never done something quite like this. You have been in Jamie’s position before, eyes wide and ready to please, eager for some scrap of attention thrown your way. For such a tight-knit community, it can be lonely, being one of the only ones without a partner at your age. It’s like being on the outside always looking in. When you were younger, when you still thought there was a chance of finding someone just for you, you had done it more often. But it has been years since you last even thought of lowering yourself to your knees for anyone. And nobody has ever offered to return the favour, much less dropped to their knees first. It’s as if Jamie is determined to prove you wrong about him at every turn. He really is one of a kind.
Lips wrap around your clit and your hands tighten in his hair, forcing him closer, heedless of his comfort, or if he can still breathe. A high pitched keen echoes around you, too loud for comfort. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, instead tilting your head back and staring up at the star-smattered sky.
Tightness coils low in your belly, tension drawing tighter, and tighter, and tighter, as he teases your sensitive bud. A single thick finger traces the length of your slit as Jamie coats it in the proof of your excitement. A calloused fingertip probes at your entrance, circling, holding back as if waiting for permission.
You’re close. You can feel yourself dangling on the precipice, the tension almost too much to bear. His tongue swipes across you in a broad stroke as he pulls back, blowing lightly against your quivering flesh. You swallow back a sob.
“Fuck. Jamie, please?”
“I knew there were good manners in there somewhere,” he says, the pointed tip of his tongue flicking over your pulsing bud before two fingers press inside of you without warning. Thick and tough and perfect, you can feel the strength behind his touch, every hard earned callous from years of handling a bow rubbing against your sensitive walls. You clench around him instinctively as he moves his hand, fingers curling, pressing, searching for that one spot guaranteed to make you see stars.
You tip over the edge embarrassingly quickly, clinging to his curls as calloused fingertips rub across your g spot insistently, drawing out every once of pleasure you have left to give. Your chest heaves as you take great, panting breaths.
Eyes creeping open, you peer down at him, already anticipating how this will go; now you have had yours, it’s his turn to have you. Maybe on your knees or bent over for him. At least he had the decency to make you come first. You lower your wrist from your mouth — when had you raised it? Neat teeth marks give away the way that you did your best to stifle your cries as Jamie sent you tumbling over the edge.
Aftershocks of pleasure shoot through you, leaving you feeling weak at the knees. You glance down towards him at last, expecting to see his cock already out and impatience on his face. He has his fingers in his mouth; eyes wide, his gaze piercing you as a wet, pink tongue darts out, chasing every last drop of you from his skin.
“That’s one. Let’s see if you’re ready to give me another.”
You hear him speaking, but his words don’t register. Your hands hang limply by your sides; the wall holds up the entirety of your weight. Thumbs hook over your outer lips and he presses back between your thighs, honing in on his prize.
Flingers slide back in to the hilt, this time pumping steadily. Plush lips kiss a wet trail across your thighs, leaving open-mouthed kisses and nipping little bites in his wake. He pauses at the junction where your thigh and hip meet, determined to leave behind a mark that you will feel for days.
By the time the warm puff of his breath brushes against your clit again you are already dripping around his fingers, clenching in time with his thrusts. You want to beg for more, you want to feel what it would be like to have him inside of you properly. To feel like you belong to him. You press your hands tightly against your mouth, twisting to bite down on your wrist more harshly in an attempt to stifle the desperate, growing noises pouring from your lips.
The pointed tip of his tongue drags a leisurely circle around, and around, and around where you want to feel it the most. Hips stutter, giving an aborted little thrust as you try to guide him to where you need to feel him the most. Need rising, you try again, back arching, hips pressing forward. Amused blue eyes flick up towards you. He holds your gaze, unblinking, as lips wrap around your clit and he hums.
Mouth falling open in a wordless cry, you topple into the abyss. You hadn’t realised how close you were. Jamie’s fingers keep thrusting, his tongue still working your sensitive bud as your peak stretches out, waves of pleasure crashing over you and receding. Each time you think it is almost over, that surely you have finished, he twists his fingers just so, rough pads dragging across your sensitive inner walls, or his tongue darts out to tease at the trembling bud nestled between your legs.
“Jamie,” you manage to gasp. It’s half plea, half whine; it’s all you can manage to get out. It only serves to make his grin widen. “I can’t—”
“You can.”
He presses the flat of his palm against your mound, warmth seeping into you. A third finger probes at your entrance, stretching you, filling you completely. You reach for him weakly, to pull him close or push him away you, aren’t sure anymore. Your other hand moves to cover your mouth; you’re already being too loud, too needy, too easy to overhear.
This time you watch him, determined not to miss a second as he plays your body with a level of expertise you have never felt before. Pebbled nipples rub against the fabric of your blouse, the sensation momentarily distracting you. You can see movement in the distance, around the village hall. Maybe it’s just shadows or a trick of the light but it’s enough to make you shift in place, the rounded tip of your scuffed mary janes pressing between his spread thighs, glancing across the unmistakable line tending his jeans.
It’s Jamie’s turn to let out a shuddering breath; you press more firmly, watching his face closely. Eyelashes flutter, lips parting. He grinds down against your shoe — it’s no longer than a moment, but it’s still enough. Feeling how much he wants this, how much he wants you, is enough to make you see stars. The edges of your vision go white as you give in to the sensations washing through you, release rolling through you in unending waves.
Beneath you Jamie gasps; muscles tighten around him, forcing his fingers to lock in place. You press your foot up, holding steady as you give him the space to rock against you, his movements sharp, filled with determination and need.
He presses his forehead against your stomach, cheek resting against your thigh as he finds his release. You run your fingers through his hair, gently untangling sweat soaked locks as he tries to catch his breath. You find yourself staring at the top of his head, wondering what it would feel like to have more of him inside of you; how big is he? How thick? A man with Jamie’s confidence, a casual thing he wears about him like a secondskin? You have no doubt that same confidence would translate to the bedroom. If his performance so far is anything to go by, it would be quite the memorable experience.
“Maybe next time, we’ll have to take this somewhere with a bed,” you say softly, breaking the silence. Your back feels raw, your blouse and cardigan nowhere near enough to protect you from the rough brickwork behind you. Jamie lets out a low hum as he carefully tugs your underwear back up into please. He presses a kiss to the sodden fabric, lips lingering.
Jamie pulls back, fluidly moving from his knees to standing. He reaches up to swipe at his beard with the sleeve of his jacket, chasing the lingering proof of your coupling from his lips. Tilting your head back, you take a step forward, rising onto tiptoes to press your lips to his. A broad palm presses lightly against your chest, holding you back.
Your eyes widen, understanding setting in. Oh. So that’s what this is.
You take a stumbling step back, then another, and another. This time, Jamie doesn’t follow.
“Wait—”
You shake your head, forcing a smile on your lips. “I’m glad we could move past our little disagreement. Tell Spike I still expect him on time on Monday, even if he is on his way to becoming a real hunter now.”
“You know I can’t— you knew what this was, didn’t you?” he says, voice strained, lips turned downward. He runs his fingers roughly through his hair, pushing back stray locks from his face. Guilt creeps into the edges of his eyes as he takes your silence in lieu of an answer. “Fuckin’ hell, you didn’t.”
Your stomach twists. Embarrassment crawls up through your chest, tendrils creeping out and across every inch of you. For all that Isla is safely tucked away in their house, she is still there, in their house. Jamie is still hers.
“That’s on me, not you,” you say firmly. He stills. Eyes search your face, looking for some hint of deception. His shoulders relax, tension easing out of him.
You brush down your skirt, making sure everything is in place, before turning to leave. There’s nothing more than needs to be said.
You are halfway down the street before you hear the sound of boots on cobblestones as he hurries to catch up. “Wait! Let me walk you home.”
“Really, it isn’t necessary. I know the way,” you say dryly.
He laughs, a breathy little sound as he joins you, walking by your side. “Let me anyway?”
The silence is more amicable than awkward, much to your surprise. It isn’t far to walk, but it is slow going with nothing more than the stars to light your way.
“It won’t change anything,” you say softly. You can feel his eyes on you. “So there’s no need to worry about that. I won’t say a word to anyone.”
“Thank you,” Jamie says gratefully. He lets out a long, low sigh. “You must think—”
You shake your head, not letting him get any further. “It’s none of my business. Everyone knows…”
“Everyone knows what?” His words are sharp, defensive. You find yourself shying away from him instinctively. The moment he realises his expression falls, shame replacing stubborn pride. Softly, so softly you almost can’t hear him above the low murmur of the wind. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”
You don’t think he would. Not on purpose. But you can’t say for sure. Your footsteps begin to slow. It takes him a handful of steps to notice. You come to a stop outside of your gate and he sends you a sheepish little smile. “This is me. I told you it wasn’t far.”
“Aye, you did.” He looks at your front door longingly, as if he hopes you will invite him inside. You wonder how many hours you could have together, just the two of you. Half the island was at the party by the time you left; it wouldn’t surprise you if the other half has joined them by now. How long can he be away from Isla before she notices? Would she even notice? “I could—”
Before he can finish speaking you slip through the gate, closing it firmly behind you. Lips twist down, eyes lowering as he takes in the barrier between you. “You’re a good man, Jamie. This isn’t what you want. Not really.”
“You barely know me.”
“I might not know you well, but I know of you. A fine, upstanding member of this community, even if you can be a little bit stubborn sometimes. You’re a good neighbour to have. An excellent hunter, by all accounts. And…” You look away, unable to hold his gaze. “A loving family man. Go home, Jamie. Your family is waiting for you.”
You’re at your door when you hear him coming up behind you. You daren’t turn.
“No, they aren’t. Spike’s out. He’s practically grown now, and Isla… .” Warm arms hover just out of reach, his forehead coming to rest on your shoulder from behind. “Isla hasn’t been waiting for me for a long time.”
You’ve heard the gossip. It’s hard to avoid in a community this size. The cries of pain. The shouting. Things smashing. If it weren’t for those things happening around the clock, no matter whether Jamie is on or off the island, well… at least nobody can deny that there is something terribly wrong with Isla. The community has known that she is sick for some time; you just aren’t sure if anyone has ever heard Jamie acknowledge it out loud.
“I’m not ready to go.”
He sounds so small. Broken, almost. He doesn’t have any family other than Isla and Spike. Does he have anyone that he can talk to? Anyone that he can lean on? You turn back towards him, you back pressing against your front door. His head is lowered, his arms hovering, uncertain of his welcome.
Jamie’s shoulders sag as you click your door open and take a step forward. Slipping your cardigan off, you hang it by the front door. Tonight has been nothing like you expected. Everything since your meeting with Jamie on Thursday has felt like one thing after another. And yet…
You turn back to the door, catching sight of Jamie as he begins his slow retreat; reluctant to leave, yet certain that he has outstayed his welcome. Leaning against the doorway you clear your throat. He turns, hope creeping in to the edges of his eyes.
Melinda is a live-in nanny who takes care of 6 yr old Beatrix Kenzie, whose father is a military contractor. One night the house is broken into and they are taken by a group of men led by a man known as Kraven on orders of his father Nikolai Kravinoff. Who wants something that Mr Kenzie has and is willing to use Beatrix to get it. Soon Melinda finds herself in a dark romance novel when Kraven shows interest in her. The two quickly develop a relationship when Melinda sees that Kraven isn't exactly what he appears to be. But of course, he's not the only one.
Warning: Cussing. Mentions of Violence. Mentions of Kidnapping/Hostage. Mentions of SA. Mentions of Abuse. Mentions of Death.
I Wanna Be Yours Part 1
Melinda was in the laundry room, she removed the cleaned clothes from the dryer and placed them on the folding table. Then she moved clothes from the washer to the dryer, and added another load to the washer. When she was done with that she started folding up the clean clothes. After that, she put them in the basket and headed upstairs to put them all away. Then she headed back down to the laundry room and placed the basket by the dryer, and headed to the kitchen. She checked to see if dinner was thawed out yet, it still wasn’t. She switched out the water the drumsticks were thawing in and then she headed to the living room. That’s where Beatrix was jumping on the couch with all her plushies and other toys all over the floor.
“Bea sweetie,” Melinda said as she started picking up some of the toys. “The toys you aren’t playing with you need to put them up.”
“But I’m playing with them all.” Beatrix said as she continued to jump.
“You're not sweetie,” Melinda said and she looked over at her. “And no jumping on the couch. Remember what happened last time when you did?”
She stopped. “I slipped and I hurt my foot.” Beatrix said with a sad face.
“Yes you did,” Melinda said. “And you didn’t like it when the doctor had to wrap it up, did you?”
“It hurt a lot when he did.” Beatrix said.
“That’s why you shouldn’t jump on the couch, right?” Melinda said.
“Right.” Beatrix said.
“Alright then,” Melinda said. “Please get down and help me pick up your toys that you aren’t playing with.”
“Okay.” Beatrix said and she got off the couch. “Can we play tea parting with my plushies?”
“Yes we can,” Melinda said. “Go put your plushies at the table and the rest can go into the bends.”
“Okay,” Beatrix said with a smile on her face.
She started doing what Melinda asked when the front door flew open and busted off its hinges. Beatrix screamed as several men came in. She ran for Melinda as she screamed her name. Melinda ran to her as a man grabbed Beatrix. She screamed for him to let Beatrix go as two men came at her. Melinda picked up the lamp that was nearby, smashed the man’s face with it, sending him to the floor. Another man came for her and she grabbed the stand that the lamp was on. She spun around and broke the stand on the man’s face, causing him to stumble over the guy on the floor, and fall over on top of him.
Melinda ran for Beatrix and took a hold of her and started fighting to get the man to let her go. She looked down at the man’s hip, seeing he had a large knife on his belt. She grabbed a hold of it and flipped the handle around in her hand. Melinda brought the knife down on the man’s face. All he could do was raise his hand up to try and protect himself. She plunged the blade into the palm of his hand and she twisted it. He cried out in pain as he let Beatrix go. Melinda pulled the knife out and screamed for Beatrix to run for it. Beatrix ran and Melinda brought the knife back down as she aimed for the man’s throat. But a large hand grabbed her wrist, forcing her to stop.
Melinda turned her head to see a man towering over her. He had medium length shaggy dark brown hair with curls at the end. He had a thick beard and piercing blue eyes that were cold. His facial expression was calm and connective. He was very muscular with board shoulders. He was wearing black combat pants that were tucked into black combat boots. He had a black leather vest and matching arm guards that were over a black long sleeve shirt. He was wearing some type of tiger or lion tooth that dangled off a string necklace.
“Who taught you how to hold the knife the right way?” He said in a deep voice. She spit in his face, causing him to turn his face and wipe it off. She dropped the knife and caught the handle of it with her other hand. She quickly thrust the knife towards his inner thigh when he turned back to her as he grabbed her wrist, stopping her again. “First the distraction and then aiming for a major artery.” He smirked. “Aren’t you a clever girl.” He twisted her wrist to make her drop the knife but Melinda refused to let it go. He twisted it more and Melinda started breathing heavily and she pushed through the pain as she refused to let the knife go. “You're strong and brave. I like that.” He pushed hard on a pressure point on her wrist that caused her to open her hand and drop the knife.
“Mel!” Beatrix yelled. Melinda looked over at a man holding her by her waist with one arm and pulling her by her hair with the other. “Help me!”
“Bea!” Melinda yelled.
Melinda quickly turned her attention back to the man that had a hold of her. She raised her foot and went to bring it down on his knee cap, when he moved at the last second. He brought his foot back around, hooking her leg with his. He pulled his leg back, causing Melinda to get off balance and head first towards him. He spun her around by her wrist, causing her to turn her back to him as he let her wrist go. He wrapped one arm around her body, pinning her arms to the side and her body against his. Then he took a hold of her hair and yanked her head back, so she would look up at him as he looked down at her.
“Who are you to the girl?” He said. Melinda refused to talk. “Answer me,” he yanked her hair but she still wouldn’t talk. “Would you like me to order him to hurt the girl instead?”
“I’m her nanny,” Melinda said.
“Her nanny?” He said. He tilted his head, looking at her with curiosity. “But yet you fight so ferociously for her as if she was your child.”
“I’ve been her live-in nanny since she was two years old.” Melinda said. “She is as much my child as she was to her mother.” She struggled to get out of his hold. “And you better pray you don’t lose grip of me, because the moment you do. You’ll find out real quick the most dangerous thing in the world is a mother trying to protect her young.”
He grinned. “You have a fighting spirit, I admire that.” He said. “We’ll take both of them with us.”
“Kraven,” He said. “Your father only said for us to get the girl and kill anyone else in the house.”
“And I say,” Kraven said, looking over at him. “We take them both.”
“There’s no need to take her, she’s just a little girl.” Melinda said and Kraven looked back at her. “You can take me and do whatever you want to me, but you leave her alone.”
“Don’t worry,” Kraven said, leaning in closer to her. “I plan to do whatever I want with you. But the girl is coming with us. Her father has something that my father wants. Once he has it, we’ll let her go.”
“Bullshit.” Melinda whispered. “Otherwise you guys would have come in here with masks on.”
“Smart and observant,” Kraven said, leaning back. “I give you my word that the girl won’t be harmed as long as you listen to me and don’t try anything. But the moment you decided to act up,” the other guy pulled Beatrix, making her cry out and Melinda tried to break the hold again. “I’ll forget about keeping my word. I hope we have an understanding.”
“Yeah,” Melinda said, through her teeth. “We do.”
He grinned. “Good,” Kraven said. He let Melinda go. “I want your phone and any other devices you have on you.” Melinda took her phone out of her pocket and handed it to him. Then she took off her apple watch and gave it to him. “Come with me upstairs. I want you to pack a bag for each of you, we’ll be staying with us for a while.”
“I’ll go upstairs, but at least let her sit on the couch and wait.” Melinda said. Kraven nodded his head. The man let Beatrix go and she ran to Melinda, crying. “It’s okay sweetie, I need you to sit on the couch and wait for me.” Beatrix started begging her not to leave her. “Hey,” she crouched down. “It’s going to be okay. Here.” She picked up a rabbit plushing off the ground. “Mr Cuddlesworth is scared so he needs you to comfort and protect him, okay? Can you do that for me Bea?” Beatrix nodded at her head and she stood back up. “Go sit on the couch sweetie and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Beatrix nodded her head and she dragged her feet as she walked over to the couch, and sat down. Melinda headed to the stairs with Kraven right behind her. She went to Beatrix’s room first and Kraven stood at the doorway watching her. Melinda grabbed a suitcase from the closet and she started packing up some of her clothes. She packed along with it Beatrix’s favorite book and blanket. Her sketchbook and crayons, and the small photo album of pictures of her mother. When she was done she headed to her room and placed Beatrix’s suitcase on her bed.
Then Melinda went over to her closet and pulled out a duffel bag. As she gathered up the clothes, Kraven looked around her room. Her room was definitely different from the rest of the house, it was a bit romantic goth style. Her walls were dark burgundy and all the furniture was black. She had pictures of her and Beatrix on her walls since she was very little in gold frames. Melinda even had gold frames that had insects and flowers hanging up. Kraven saw her book collection was of William Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe and classic monster books. He saw she had a sketchbook like Beatrix on her desk, he picked it up and opened it. He smiled as he looked at all the sketches of wildlife and animals she did.
“These are really good.” Kraven said, he looked over at her. “Did you draw these?”
“Yes,” Melinda said.
“You're quite the artist.” Kraven said.
“Thanks.” Melinda said.
He grabbed the case of pencils that was with it. “Here,” Kraven said. He held the book and case to her. She looked at it and went back to him. “You should take it with you.” She took them and put them in her duffle bag. She went across the hall to the bathroom her and Beatrix shared, she grabbed what they needed and came back to her room. She put the stuff in the bag and closed it up. “Allow me.” He picked the duffle bag and the Beatrix suitcase, and they headed back downstairs. As soon as Beatrix saw Melinda, she got off the couch and ran over to her. Melinda picked her up and Beatrix wrapped herself around her, holding her tight. “Let’s go.”
The whole car ride, Beatrix was cuddled up to Melinda and her face buried in her side. Melinda kept a firm grip on her as she laid her head on Beatrix’s. She played with Beatrix’s hair and whispered to her that everything was going to be okay and they’ll be back home soon. And Kraven watched them the whole time through the rearview mirror, seeing how caring and loving Melinda was to Beatrix, a child that wasn’t her own but she treated as such. Much like how his mother treated his half brother Drimtri whose real mother was one of his father’s many mistresses. She cared and loved Drimitri as much as she cared and loved him.
Once they got to where they were going and they stepped out, Melinda noticed they were in an underground parking structure. They walked over to an elevator and got in, and they headed upstairs. Melinda saw the numbers just climbing higher and higher until they stopped on the 12th floor. They got out and were taken down a long hallway, passing several closed doors. Until finally they stopped at one with a keypad that asked for a code. Kraven stood in front of it and entered the code, then the door unlocked. He opened it up and Melinda saw there was a twin bed and a night stand with a lamp on it that lit the room up. There was a small children's table with a chair and some toys, and a bathroom.
“Go on,” Kraven said. Melinda picked up Beatrix and carried her inside the room. She went over to the bed and sat down. She watched as Kraven stepped in and sat their stuff in the corner. “I know this room is small, but we were only expecting the girl. I’ll see about moving you two into a larger room and add an extra bed for you. Maybe a room with a TV and a few more toys for the little one." Melinda nodded her head. “I’ll have food brought up shortly for both of you. Is there anything in particular you two would like?”
“Anything is fine, we’re not picking eaters.” Melinda said.
“Alright then,” Kraven said. “If you ever need anything feel free to ask for me.”
“Thank you.” Melinda said.
Kraven nodded his head before stepping outside and closing the door. As soon as the door locked, Beatrix started crying in Melinda’s arms. She started rocking Beatrix back and forth as she stroked her hair and sang to her. Melinda scanned the room and she noticed the camera up in the corner pointed right at them. Once she got her to calm down, Melinda whispered in Beatrix’s ear. She sat her on the bed Beatrix started exploring the room like a child her age would. But really, she was looking for stuff they can use, along with any mics or hidden cameras like Melinda told her to. She knew if she did it, more than like it would draw suspicion.
After a couple of hours, the door opened up and Melinda quickly put Beatrix on the bed and shielded her. They sat food down on the table for them and walked back out the door, locking back up behind them. Melinda tasted it first, she didn’t feel funny or anything after eating a few bites and drinking the water. She nodded her head to Beatrix and she started eating her food. Melinda only ate a little bit and gave the rest to her. After a few more hours passed, Beatrix started getting tired. Melinda tucked her into bed and read her book, and Beatrix soon went to sleep. Melinda got up and moved the night stand to the edge of the bed. Then she laid up against the door and put her feet against the nightstand, then went to sleep.
“What is she doing?” The Guard said as he looked at the camera footage.
“She’s using her own body as a barricade,” Kraven said as he crossed his arms. “So the moment someone tries to come into their room while they are asleep it will wake her up.”
“I would never have thought of that.” The Guard said.
“I know,” Kraven said. “Just like I know you wouldn’t have thought to use the girl to look for something to turn into a weapon and other hidden devices in the room.”
“Shit,” The Guard said. “That’s what she was doing?”
“Yes,” Kraven said, nodding his head. “She knew we would be more mindful of her since she's an adult. And we wouldn’t think twice of the child being a child and looking around.”
“Damn,” The Guard said. “Who is this chick?”
“Who is she indeed?” Kraven said.
“She’s 23 year old Melinda Mercer.” He said, coming into the room with a file. “She was a foster kid back in the day in Detroit and she has a very nasty juvenile record.” He opened up the folder and showed Kraven her mug shot.
“Is that blood on her?” Kraven said.
“Her foster dad’s blood to be exact.” He said. “Turns out he tried to crawl into her bed that she was sharing with her older foster sister. He was hoping for a threesome, Melinda ripped a chuck off the side of his throat with her teeth. She pretty much went Hannibal Lecture on his ass after that. She took one of his ears, part of his cheek, some chucks out of his arms and some fingers.” He handed the file to Kraven. “She was only six at the time.”
He looked down at the file. “She killed him.” Kraven said.
“Yep.” He said, nodding his head. “Once he was down she got up on him and started ripping more of his throat out. That's why they had no choice but to lock her up in juvie for a while, though they normally wouldn't with someone her age. When the cops showed up, she kept attacking anyone that came near her. She was like a wild animal that got cornered, she went completely feral. They had to taser her to bring her in. She even attacked other juveniles when they tried to pick on her. And male staff came near her when she was locked up. They ended up keeping her in her own room and had only female staff go near her.”
“It says she first went into foster care when she was three because her parents were found to be abusive.” Kraven said.
“That’s right.” He said, nodding his head. “She has scars up and down her arms from whatever they hit her with. They had cops show up several times to the house. But they never did anything because the parents claimed the girl had mental issues and was doing it to herself. The cops didn’t even bother double checking their story. It wasn’t until an off duty cop that was walking by heard a blood curling scream that they busted down the door and went inside. They found the parents holding her down and burning her back with an iron.”
“Fuck,” The Guard said.
“They threw her into the system after she was all healed up.” He said. “Eventually after the juvenile thing, they put her in another foster home. But she kept attacking any males in the home, clawing and biting them. She claimed they were trying to hurt her and even some tried to rape her. There was only a couple they could prove she wasn’t lying, the rest was their word against hers. She bounced around for a while but eventually she got taken in by Evelyn Mercer. Seems like Evelyn had an act to get the most dangerous and vicious children under control. Melinda has four older foster brothers that she seemed to be cool with since they went through what she did. The oldest is Bobby Mercer who has quite a record himself, all dealing with assault and some for theft. Rumor has it when Evelyn was murder by some gangster named Victor Sweet that ran everything, Bobby beat him to death with his bare hands. Now Bobby runs the streets of Detroit. The second oldest is Angel, he has a record as well and he's an ex Marine.”
“Would explain why she knew how to hold the knife properly and she went for my kneecaps to try and bring me down,” Kraven said. “What about the other two brothers?”
“Jeremiah is the third one,” He said. “As a record as well, he’s a self-made man now. He owns a contraction business in Detroit. The last brother is Jack. He didn’t have a record but he was abusive in every sense of the word before he got to Evelyn. He was some punk rocker. He’s dead now though. Gunned down when Victor Sweets sent men to their home to make them back off of him before Bobby got a hold of him. Some of my contacts in Detroit said she’s like Bobby, likes to get up close and personal with her opponent. She killed some of Victor Sweets' men that day with a couple of hunting knives. Kinda like you Kraven.”
He chuckled. “A woman after my own heart.” Kraven said.
“If she has a record of violence like that how in the hell did she get hired as a live-in nanny?” The Guard said. “Seems like the last person you want watching your kid.”
“It’s because of her record that she got hired.” Kraven said as he kept his eyes on the file. “She only ever attacked when threatened. Besides protecting herself, she had a primal instinct to protect others around her with deadly force.” He closed up the file and looked at the camera footage. “Making her perfect to protect a child when you're a military contractor and your child may be taken as leverage against you.”
“And how does your old man plan to get a hold of him?” He said. “He’s on a ship that went dark, no telling when he’s going to resurface. Could be days, weeks, months even before we can make contact. What are we going to do with those two till then?” He motioned to the camera.
“They’ll be staying here with us of course.” Kraven said.
“And what happens if that chick decides to go feral?” The Guard said. “I don’t get paid enough to risk getting my throat ripped out by her teeth.”
“She’s just like any other wild animal I dealt with before,” Kraven said. “She just needs to be tamed.”
“And you think you can tame her?” He said.
“Yes,” Kraven said and he grinned. “And the little one is going to help me do it.”
I Wanna Be Yours Part 2
Note: Normally I do gifs in the story as well, but I think I will add them later when I have more time to edit.
Tagging: If you like to be tagged, please leave a comment or a message in the ask box.
Warning: Cussing. Mentions of Death. Violence. Very Lil Smut Talk
Cowboys & Monsters Part 5
Rhett covered up his face and rocked himself back and forth as he cried. The officers standing around, all had their heads down. They didn’t judge Rhett for his outburst or for crying. They would have done the same if it was their partner, their best friend. So they gave him space, allowing him to process the horrific site the best he could. But it was for only a moment, there was still work that needed to be done.
“Detective!” David yelled. He stepped in front of him and crouched in front of him. “We “Did you hear me?” He put his hands on his shoulder. “Detective, look at me please.” He shook his head. “Rhett, we can’t find Wyatt.” He stopped shaking. “Did you hear me Rhett? We can’t find Wyatt.” Rhett looked up at him. “We don’t know if he was taken or if he’s hiding somewhere. Do you have any idea where he could be?”
“Wyatt?” Rhett whispered.
“Yeah Wyatt.” He said, nodding his head. “We sent out an amber alert.”
“No, he’s not gone.” Rhett said, shaking his head. “Walker… Walker taught him to… to hide and.. And stay quiet if something happens.” He quickly shot up, almost knocking David over. He took off running to Walker's office. “Wyatt! It’s me, Uncle Rhett! Where are you little man!?” He opened up the bench that had a spare blanket and pillows, but no Wyatt. “Wyatt!” He started searching Wyatt’s other hiding places. “Come on out little man! Hide and sneak is over! You won!” He took off running to Wyatt’s room. “Wyatt! It’s Uncle Rhett! You are here buddy?!” He heard a little laughter coming from behind him. “Wyatt!” He went over to his closet and opened up the hamper, which was full of clothes. “Little man!” He heard the laughter again and the clothes moved. He started taking out the clothes until he saw the little toddler smiling up at him. “Wyatt.” He smiled as he got him out. “Thank God.” He knelt down as he hugged him tight. “You had your uncle Rhett so scared little man.” He pulled back and looked at him. “You did a great job hiding and staying quiet, your daddy and mommy would be so proud of you.” He hugged him tight again. “Let’s get you over to grandma and grandpa, okay?”
3 Days Later: Cemetery
Rhett, Walker's and Ava’s immediate family sat down under the canopy. The other friends and family, stood up with their umbrellas over their heads and opened. It started raining when the priest started to conduct the ceremony. Rhett’s eyes stayed on Walker’s coffin till he saw movement out of the corner of his eye in the distance. It was the same woman he saw in the church that he asked about. No one seemed to know who she was but there were many people Walker helped out throughout the years that came to show their respects. But something didn’t sit right with Rhett when he saw her, something told him there was more to her than just a pretty face.
Of course there was more to her, she was a hunter after all, a Winchester. Melinda Winchester. She came to New York when she first heard about these Hannible-like killings. She came to investigate if it was some type of supernatural creature. Or just another monster that reminds people how evil humans can truly be. She was about to leave the city when she saw the news, so she came back around. Melinda wanted to pay her respects and do what she could to help. But she didn’t want to approach anyone, not yet at least. So she stood off in the distance, under a tree as the rain started to pick up.
The soldiers and officers both stood at the ready. They fired their rounds off, one by one till they were done. They folded up a flag and handed it to Rhett, who in return walked over to Chief Walker and handed it to him. People started placing roses on Ava’s and Walker’s graves before heading off. Rhett helped Mrs Walker up and gave her a hug, before she went with Walker’s uncle. The Chief looked at him and placed his hands on his shoulders. They both stared at each other as their eyes slowly started to water.
“I’m sorry sir,” Rhett said. “If I wasn’t caught up in my own shit I would have been there.” He started crying. “I should have fucking been there.”
“No,” Chief Walker said, shaking his head. “Don’t do that to yourself my boy, don’t. This is not your fault. If you were there, we wouldn’t have found Wyatt and I would have buried both of my sons. Alright?” Rhett nodded his head as he looked down. “I just want you to focus and figure out who did this to my boy and daughter in law. I want you to bring them to justice Rhett. Can you do that for me son?”
“Yes sir,” Rhett said, nodding his head as he looked back up at him. “I’ll get the bastard who did this. One way or another, I’m going to make him pay for what he’s done.”
“I know you will.” Chief Walker said, giving him a hug. “Stay safe.” He walked off to comfort his wife as they headed to their car.
Rhett watched as everyone went to their vehicles and started heading out. He refused to leave with the others, he wanted to stay till they filled up the graves. He started to hear a slight whisper from behind him. He couldn’t make out the words, but he knew it was a woman's voice. Rhett turned around and saw Melinda was standing at the foot of Walker’s grave. She was whispering as she kept her eyes on Walker's coffin as they lowered it. He started walking to her as he kept his eyes on her. He couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she looked. How the rain glided down her hair and face, making her skin glisten in what sunlight was shining. When he got closer and could hear her voice and hear what she was saying, she was singing. He smiled a bit at the sound of it, the sound of her gentle, sweet, heavenly voice. He stood beside her and they kept their eyes on the grave as her song started to come to an end.
“Carry on, my wayward son. There’ll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don’t you cry no more.” Melinda said. “Goodbye John.” She tossed the bouquet of flowers in Walker’s grave and the staff started filling in the grave. “I’m sorry for your loss. John was one of the good ones.”
“Thanks.” Rhett said. “Did you know him personally?”
“Yeah,” Melinda said., nodding her head. “Ran into him back in the day when I was working on a case that he helped me out with.”
“You're a detective or something?” Rhett said.
She turned to him. “Special Agent, Tess Trueheart,” Melinda said, showing him her badge. “F.B.I.” She put her badge away. “Do you have any leads,” she looked at his badge on his uniform. ‘Rhett Abbott.”
“Detective, Rhett Abbott,” Rhett said “And I do,” he smirked. “But I’m not sharing them with you.” He shook his head.
“Just because I’m F.B.I doesn’t mean I’m here to step on your toes Detective.” Melinda said, “I’m just here to get justice for an old friend and his wife.”
“Bullshit.” Rhett said. “You're no F.B.I.”
“What makes you say that?” Melinda said.
“Tess Trueheart, was the love interest of Detective Dick Tracy.” Rhett said, he stepped closer to her. “A famous fictional character from the comics created by,”
“Chester Gould. The first comic made its debut on Sunday, October 4, 1931,” Melinda said, smiling. “The actress Glenne Headly played her and Warren Beatty played Dick Tracy. The movie was released on Friday, June 15, 1990.”
“Yeah,” Rhett said, crooked smile. “That’s right. How did you know that?”
“My parents were big fans, that's the reason why they named me after Tess. I love the movie and I got some of the original comics.” Melinda said, “Speaking of comics, did you know they rebooted the comic series back in April of 2024?”
“No,” Rhett said, smiling as he shook his head. “I didn’t know that.”
“I bought two copies of each of the issues.” Melinda said. “One so I could read it and the other I stored away with the rest of my comics.”
“You collect comics?” Rhett said.
“Oh yeah,” Melinda said, smiling as she nodded her head. “Tons of them. So,” stepping closer to him. “Are you going to share those leads now Detective?”
He snapped out of it and stepped back “No.” Rhett said. “You're still full of shit.”
“Oh really now?” Melinda said, smirking.
“Yeah, really.” Rhett said, nodding his head. “Walker didn’t work with any F.B.I. agent on any case. I’ve been his partner since the academy. If he ran into you at any point of time, I would have been there or he would have mentioned it.” Her smirk faded as he stepped closer, getting into her face. “Who are you really? Because everyone I spoke to doesn’t know who the hell you are.”
“A friend of John’s,” Melinda said. “From back in the day.”
“I know all of his friends.” Rhett said.
“I doubt that.” Melinda said she stepped away. “Have a good day Detective.” She turned around and started walking off.
“I suggested you don’t leave the city.” Rhett called out.
“I wasn’t planning on it.” Melinda called out. She went to her car and opened up the door. “Detective,” She looked over at him. “Since you suggested something to me, I’ll suggest something to you.”
He smirked. “And what’s that?” Rhett called out.
“You leave this case to me.” Melinda called out. “You have no idea what you're going up against. Nor do you know how to kill it.”
“Kill it?” Rhett said, she got into her car. “What do you mean kill it!?” He rushed over to her car as she started driving off. “Hey! What the fuck do you mean by that!?” She sped off. “What the fuck? Who in the hell is this chick?” He grabbed out his phone and placed a call. “Danny, I need you to run me a plate? KAZ 2Y5.” He nodded his head. “I got it, thanks.” He hung up his phone. “You obviously aren't Dean, but at least I got your last name, Miss Winchester."
Later That Night Rhett’s Home:
He gave the money over to the pizza delivery guy. “Thanks man.” Rhett said, taking the box. “Have a goodnight.” He closed the door and headed to his office as he looked down at the box. “I don’t even know why I ordered a large,” he sighed as he stepped into his office. “Force of a habit I guess.”
“I hope you got extra pepperoni.” Melinda said he looked up seeing she was at his desk and on his laptop. “By the way, love your taste in scotch.” She took a drink from his glass. “Goes down real smooth.” She put the glass down. “Also what’s up with all the hentai on here? I swear I thought I was my big brother’s laptop for a second.”
“It’s called anime and it’s an artform you little shit.” Rhett said, tossed the pizza down and rushed over to her as he did, she chatted something in Latin. Before he could take another step, she tossed a small black bag near him. He stopped and smirked at her. “Really? One, your aim sucks. Two, what the hell is a small bag going to do?” He went to take a step but he almost fell over. “What the fuck?” He got his balance and he looked down at his feet as he tried to lift up his foot but he couldn’t. “What the hell?” He tried his other foot, nothing. “Why can’t I move my feet?”
“Because Detective, that small bag on the ground is a hex bag.” Melinda said, he looked back up at her. “You're going to be stuck in that spot till I remove the bag.”
“Hex bag?” Rhett said.
“Yes, a hex bag.” Melinda said she took out a usb drive and stuck it into his laptop. “I learned how to make them thanks to a witch named Rowena.”
“A witch?” Rhett said, and she nodded her head. “There’s no such thing as witches.”
She looked up at him. “If there’s no such thing as witches,” Melinda said, smirking. “Why can’t you move then detective?”
“Super glue.” Rhett said.
“Super glue? That’s a new one.” Melinda said. She looked back at the laptop and started downloading files onto her usb. “If it’s super glue, then untie your shoes and step out of them detective.”
He bent down to untie his shoelaces, but the laces wouldn’t budge. “What the fuck?” Rhett said and he tried his other shoelaces. “Why can’t I untie them?”
“The hex bag prevents that.” Melinda said and he looked up at her. “Like I said detective, you're stuck there till I remove the bag. So just stand there and relax, once I’m done I’ll remove that bag and I’ll be on my way.”
“Fine then, Miss Winchester,” Rhett said, she looked up at him and he smirked. “That’s right, I got your last name. So who is Dean to you? I don’t see a wedding ring, so I’m assuming he’s that big brother you mention."
“Congrations detective you solved another case.” Melinda said as she went back to looking at the laptop. “And yes he is my big brother. Ironically he said the same thing you did about his hentai.”
“I knew I should have deleted my browser history.” Rhett said, he shook his head. “So you said once you remove this hex bag, I can move again.” She nodded her head as she said mm-hmm. “Then I’ll just get the bag then.” He squatted down a bit as he started trying to reach for it.
“How's Maria doing?” Melinda said and Rhett froze. “I hope she finally stopped bugging you about forgiving her for tripping and falling on Andrew’s dick.”
“You were the girl from the bar.” Rhett said. “The one that got Maria to fuck off.”
“That’s right.” Melinda said, she nodded her head.
“Why did you do it?” Rhett said.
“Because she was trying to blame you for her cheating.” Melinda said. “Cheaters always want to blame the person they cheated on.”
“No, not that.” Rhett said, shaking her head. “Why did you kill Walker and Ava?” She stopped typing. “The night they were killed Walker called me up to come over. He said he ran into an old friend from back in the day claiming that there was a second killer out there. He wanted me to come over so the three of us could sit down together and talk, while Ava took Wyatt over to his parents house. When I got the call about their murder, I couldn’t focus for shit. But since then I just kept playing everything over and over again in my mind. And I remember seeing that chevy impala of yours passing by me when I drove up.” She looked up at him. “You were the one Walker was talking about, weren’t you?”
“Yes.” Melinda said.
He reached behind his back. ‘So you're the second killer,” Rhett said, he swung his arm back around, aiming his gun at her. “I bet you were hoping to kill us both, but the neighbors heard the fight and called the cops before I got there.”
“You're wrong detective," Melinda said. “I would have never hurt John, ever. Nor would I hurt Ava. It was a Vetala that killed them.”
“Vetala?” Rhett said, raising an eyebrow. “Who the fuck is Vetala?”
“Vetala isn’t a who, it’s a what.” Melinda said. “Vetala are man-eating creatures that use venom to paralyze its prey. They look a lot like humans till they shift a bit when they hunt and eat. They have long sharp claws and fangs, their eyes look like,”
He shook his head. “No, I,” Rhett said, slightly lowering his gun as he looked away. “It was dark and raining.” He looked back at her. “I don’t know what I saw. One moment I saw snake eyes and fangs, then the next I didn’t. We’ve been up for three days, so the lack of sleep was just fucking with me.”
“No it wasn’t,” Melinda said. “And deep down, you know that Detective." She went back to typing. “From this file it says you had a hold of your suspect but because of the rain and them moving around you weren’t able to maintain your grip and she fell to her death.” She grabbed the usb and looked up at him. “The Vetala hunts in pairs detective. And despite being man-eating creatures, they are very loyal to the one they choose to be its hunting partner. It killed John and Ava because you killed its partner."
“I didn’t kill her.” Rhett said. “I lost my grip on her.”
“The Vetala doesn’t see it that way.” Melinda said, she stood up. “It only sees that you killed its partner and it wanted you to feel its pain, by killing yours. I know you may not believe me but,”
He scoffed. “Got that right.” Rhett said, he pointed his gun back at her. “Remove this hex bag or whatever the hell it is, so I can put you under arrest. Unless you want to shoot you right now.”
“Detective,” Melinda said, putting her hands on the desk and leaning on it. “I came back here when I heard about the murders, because I had a feeling it was something more than a human going completely insane. But by the time I tracked it down, I saw all the cop cars and news vans in the construction site. I saw two body bags being loaded up into the morgue van. I also overheard someone saying thank god these murders are going to stop. So I assumed you guys handled it and got them both. It wasn’t till I saw on the news a couple days later that you guys only got one and I found out it was you and John working that case. I tracked John down to a grocery store and I told him there was another killer out there. I told him he needed to get his wife and son out of the house before it was too late. He gave me his address and he told me to meet him there in an hour but,” She sighed as she looked down. “I got delayed by the damn flat tire. By the time I showed up,” she looked up and he could see tears forming in her eyes. “I cared about John, he was a friend.”
“Now that,” Rhett said, lowering his gun. “I believe.”
“But you don’t believe the rest?” Melinda said.
“I don’t know what to believe.” Rhett said. “But I’ll work this case with you.”
“You can’t.” Melinda said, shaking her head. “I’ve been hunting monsters since I was a teenager, I come from a long line of hunters. Hunting things, saving people, family business, the Winchester creed. My family and I hunted down creatures that you can’t even begin to imagine. Witches, demons, wedigos, even vampires and werewolves. Everything you were told that went bump in the night and then some, are fucking real detective. And if you don’t know how to kill them, they will kill you. You guys got lucky killing that Velata because of the height it fell from. Normally they can only be killed with a silver blade through the heart, with a twist. Next time,” she shook her head. “You won’t be so lucky.” She looked down. “John wasn’t.”
“I’m sure a bullet to the head will put it down.” Rhett said.
She looked back up at him. “All you're going to do is piss it off.” Melinda said, she stood back up. “And since you plan to continue this investigation. I’m afraid I’m going to leave the hex bag in place till I kill this monster. Once I do, I’ll come back here and remove it.”
“You actually don’t have to worry about coming back here to remove it.” Rhett said, with a smirk. “I already figured out how to get out of this.”
“Oh really?” Melinda said, smiling as she crossed her arms. “Do tell.” He shot the bag and he took a step towards her. “Son of a bitch.” She ran for the window she came through and he went after her. He went to aim the gun at her, when she spun around and quickly took a hold of the gun with hands. “I don’t think so detective.” She moved her hands, taking two parts off the gun, making it unless.
“What the fuck?” Rhett said she nailed him with an elbow. “Fuck!” He stumbled back and glared at her. “Asshole!” He threw his gun down at her. She caught it and spun around, and threw it back at him. “Shit!” He dodged it and then he rushed her.They started throwing punches, blocking one and another. “If you're not going to work this case with me, then I’m throwing fucking your ass in jail!”
“You can try!” Melinda yelled
She spun around and kicked him in the stomach. “Fuck,” Rhett said, gasping as he grabbed his stomach. She spun around again, kicking the side of his head and sending him to the ground. “Son of a bitch,” He looked up at her. “What? Were you raised by ninjas?”
She smiled. “Grown Ups 2, love that movie.” Melinda said, he smiled back then he spun around and took her legs out from under her, causing her to fall onto her back. “Shit!” They both put their legs to their chest and throw them forward, causing them both to pop up and land on their feet. They both glared at each other as they took a fighting stance. He smiled as she deepened her voice a bit. “Round two, fight.”
“Fuck, I love Mortal Kombat.” Rhett said and they started punching and slamming each other into furniture he had in the room. She got him in an arm lock and applied pressure. “Fucking cock sucker!”
She smiled. “How did you know that?” Melinda said, he chuckled. “Are you going to give up detective?”
“Nah.” Rhett said, he shook his head. “I can do this all day.”
“Okay Steve Rogers.” Melinda said in a mocking tone.
“You into Marvel?” Rhett said.
“Yeah.” Melinda said, nodding her head and making him smile. “But perhaps DC. I love Batman. And Swamp Thing, though he’s so underrated.”
“I love Swamp Thing too,” Rhett said and he shook his head. “Fuck.” He flinged her off of his arm. “Stop distracting me and making me like you!”
“What can I say,” Melinda said, getting up and flipping her hair out of her face. “I’m a peach.” She gave him a big smile.
He smiled. “God I love your smile.” Rhett said and he shook his head. “What the fuck am I saying?” They both rushed each other but he got the upper hand. He wrapped his arms around her waist and went behind her. “Sorry about this.” He flipped backwards, sending them both to the floor. She went into a daze when she hit the ground, he let her go and got back up. “You good Miss Winchester?”
She groaned a bit as she came out of it. “I have to say that was a good suplex,” Melinda said, she panted as she tried to catch her breath. “So glad you didn’t pull a Kurt Angle and did it three times in a row. Or worse,” She sat up. “16 times like Brock Lesnar did to John Cena.”
“You watch WWE?” Rhett said.
“Back in the day, yeah.” Melinda said, nodding her head. “DX was my favorite group. I had a big crush on Road Dogg Jess James.” They smiled. “But now, it’s all about drama. No action.”
“That’s what I keep saying,” Rhett said, offering his hand. “Come on,” He helped her up and once on her feet, she flipped him over onto his back. “Fuck.” She quickly jumped on his desk and did a backflip in the air, and landed on his stomach. “Fuck!” She got up as he curled up into a ball from the pain. He looked up at her as she did the famous Hardy Boyz pose. “Fuck you Lita.”
She grinned. “You wish.” Melinda said. She went over to the box of pizza and opened it. “Oooo you did get extra pepperoni.” She grabbed two slices out. “Well detective, it was nice chatting with you and kicking your ass. But I really got to get back to hunting this creature down. Have a good night. And thanks for the pizza and scotch.” She walked down the hallway and disappeared from his sight.
“Fuck me,” Rhett said, rolling onto his back. “I can’t believe I got my ass handed to me by a hot nerdy chick that believes in supernatural bullshit.” He let out a sigh and he sat up. His head tilted, when he noticed a piece of paper on the ground. “What’s this?” He picked it up, seeing it was a receipt for a hotel room. “Oh I got your ass now Miss Winchester.”
Cowboys & Monsters Part 6
Note: Normally I do gifs in the story as well, but I think I will add them later when I have more time to edit.
Tagging: If you like to be tagged, please leave a comment or a message in the ask box.
Waring: Cussing. Violence. Gore. Mentions of SA. Mentions of Abuse. Mentions of Torture. Mentions of Cannibalism. Mentions Of Death.
Cowboys & Monsters Part 4
Before Walker and Rhett made it downstairs, the press was already on scene. They were doing reports and taking pictures as they demanded to know what happened and who was involved. Officers did their best to keep everyone back and place a cover for the crime scene because of the rain. They waited there till the bodies were loaded up and taken to the morgue. They headed to the station and were placed in two separate rooms, with a camera set up and recording them. There they waited for Internal Affairs Sergeant Gravin Walker, Walker’s uncle to come in and speak with them. Since a suspect died during a pursuit they were questioned about the incident.
Both Rhett and Walker declined a lawyer and waived their rights. Their union rep sat with them as they told Sergeant Walker what happened. Their stories were both the same. They had intel on the suspect, what they were wearing and where they were spotted at. While waiting, someone fitting the description passed by so they got out and followed the suspect. While following they lost the suspect for a few minutes and when they found them again, they were already consuming their latest victim. That’s when they saw it was a female, not a male like they all suspected.
Rhett told them after Walker told him to go, he ran after the suspect. And the suspect refused to surrender and made an attempt to jump from the beam to the next building. But they spilled and he managed to catch them, then he yelled for Walker and Walker said he was coming. He tried to hold on and lifted them up, but the suspect kept slipping because of the rain. Rhett yelled for Walker again and told the suspect not to move but they were panicking. Before Walker got to him, he lost his grip and the suspect fell.
Walker told them after they were separated he called it in and he tried to assist the victim but they died in a matter of minutes. So he called it in and continued the pursuit and when he finally caught up, he heard Rhett yelling for him. But when he got there, he saw the suspect was slipping and started to panic. He wasn’t able to make it in time to help Rhett and the suspect slipped out of his hands and fell to their death. Since the stories lined up and the evidence didn’t show any signs of foul play, they were both cleared and sent on their way.
“Are we going to talk about what we saw?” Rhett said as they walked to their cars. “Or are we going to stay in denial?”
“Denial.” Walker said.
“Works for me.” Rhett said, they got to their cars and he opened up his door. “Bar or home?”
“I’m heading home.” Walker said he opened up his door but he hesitated to get in. “You know when I was waiting for my uncle to come in, I kept thinking about her. About M.W.” They looked back at each other. “I was thinking about all those books she was reading and the news articles she had on those murders.”
“The ones about the case that pops and your uncle were working on?” Rhett said.
“Yeah,” Walker said, nodding his head. “I was so caught up with her and then bumped out about her leaving, that I didn’t put it together.”
“What do you mean?” Rhett said, looking confused. “What didn’t you put together?”
“Those murders were done by five people but all had the same damn pattern." Walker said. “The husband traveled for work and their wives were all house wives. The husbands left for work and made it to their destinations that were miles away. Their wives were all beaten, torture, rape, and then killed. But camera footage all show the husbands were the ones responsible though there was also camera footage showing them elsewhere.”
“What?” Rhett said, “They were in two places at once?”
“That’s what it seemed like.” Walker said, nodding his head. “That night she left, I asked them how their cases were going. My uncle and dad said the case was closed late the night before. They said the killer was some hacker that digitally altered the footage to make it look like it was the husbands, so the whole time it was just one man they were really looking for. A few days after she left I decided to check out the books she was reading. They were all about Indigenous cultures and their folklore. I noticed one of the books had a tab sticking out, it was the same color as the ones she was using. I got the book and opened up to where the tab was at, it was a chapter about creatures called skinwalkers.”
“Skinwalkers?” Rhett said. “I saw a movie about them, they’re shape shifters.” His eyes widened. “You're thinking the killer wasn’t a hacker, but a skinwalker.” Walker nodded his head and Rhett looked away. “Fuck.”
“But that’s not all I’m thinking,” Walker said, Rhett looked back at him. “I remember overhearing my uncle and dad bullshitting in the study. They said if it wasn’t for those two F.B.I agents coming in and figuring out it was just one guy, that those husbands would have been locked up for crimes they didn’t commit.”
“Her brothers,” Rhett said. “They were the F.B.I agents.”
“I don’t think they were F.B.I.” Walker said.
“What do you think they were?” Rhett said.
“I don’t know, ” Walker said, shaking his head. “All this is just,” he sighed, “Fucked.” He chuckles weakly, “I think it’s the lack of sleep fucking with me. I’m seeing things that aren’t there and putting things together that just don’t make sense. I need sleep.”
“We both do, brother.” Rhett said, he let out a sigh. “Maybe after a good night's sleep we’ll stop thinking crazy shit.”
“Hopefully,” Walker said, he got into the car. “I’ll see you in a couple days at the reward ceremony.” He closed his door and started his car, then rolled down the window. “If anything happens, call me.”
“I will,” Rhett said, nodding his head. “You call me too if anything happens.” Walker nodded his head and then he headed out. “Maybe those guys are some type of monster hunters.” He chuckled as he shook his head. “Fuck, I need a drink.” He got into his car and headed to their usual bar. He sat at a buff and Mark brought over his drink. He was looking down at it as someone sat across from him. He looked up, seeing an old face, he hadn't seen in years. “Perry?”
“Hey little brother.” Perry said smiling. “Can we talk?”
After Reward Ceremony: Walker’s Home.
“First he fucking shows up at our bar to talk to me.” Rhett said and Walker handed him a glass of whiskey. “Then he has the balls to show up to the fucking ceremony after I told him to fuck off. He’s sitting there telling everyone oh that’s my little brother up there. Oh I’m so proud of him. Fucking piece of fucking shit asshole man!”
“Lower your voice cowboy,” Ava said. “Waytt is sleeping.”
“I’m sorry Ava,” Rhett said. “I’m just,”
“Piss off?” Ava said.
“Yeah,” Rhett said, nodding his head. “Beyond piss actually.”
“I would be too,” Walker said, taking a seat at the dining table with them. “They get out of jail and the first thing they do is send Perry here to convince you to come back home, just so you can work on the ranch again.” He shook his head. “They couldn’t even say sorry to you.”
“I gave up waiting for an apology a long time ago.” Rhett said, taking a drink. “But uh, the ranch and me coming home isn’t all that Perry talked about.”
“What else did he say?” Walker said and Rhett looked down at his drink. “Dude, whatever it is you can tell us.”
“Perry told me why our folks treat me like shit.” Rhett said. “Well, why his folks treated me like shit.”
“What do you mean, his folks?” Ava said.
“I’m adopted.” Rhett said.
“What?” Ava and Walker said together.
“Yeah,” Rhett said, nodding his head. “I’m adopted.” He took a drink. “But it only gets worse after that.”
“How worse?” Walker said.
“My real mom died giving birth to me, her name was Sonia and she was my mom’s,” Rhett said and he paused. “Cecilia’s best friend. When she got pregnant with me, she named Cecilia my godmother and Royal my godfather. So when she died, they took me in.”
“If you were her best friend's son, why would she treat you like shit?” Ava said. “Don’t tell me it was because of her passing away giving birth to you? That’s not your fault.”
“It’s part of it. But the other part, the fucked up part,” Rhett said, he sighed. “Is the real reason why they did what they did to me.”
“What’s the other part?” Walker said.
“My real dad eh uh,” Rhett said, tightening his grip on his glass. “He was a drift passing though. He held my mom for three days in his hotel room and raped her repeatedly,” Ava and Walker both sighed and shook their heads. “No one knew because she said she was taking off to the mountains to hike and camp for the weekend, and she wasn’t going to have service. I guess she did that a lot, so they didn’t think anything of it. When she found out she was pregnant, she just told Cecilia she met another hiker and they had a crazy weekend together. It wasn’t till she was dying that she confessed what really happened to her.”
“Jesus.” Walker said, shaking his head again. “So they abused you and treated you like a fucking salve because of what some asshole did to your mom?”
“Yeah, pretty much.” Rhett said, finishing off his drink. “I think I’m going to head out.” He got up.
“Dude, just crash in the guest room.” Walker said. “You really shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“I’ll be fine man.” Rhett said. “I was actually going to head to the lab.” He pulled out a small clear bag with hair. “Took some of Perry’s hair to run a DNA test.” He put it back in his pocket. “I’m going to have them run it against mine and see if,” he looked down. “If that guy that raped my mom is in the system.” He headed for the door.
“Rhett,” Walker said, getting up and stopping him at the door. “Dude you don’t have to do this alone, I can go with you.”
“I know I don’t, Cap.” Rhett said. “But I need to.”
He sighed. “Alright.” Walker said, nodding his head. “But if you feel like your heading to a fucking cliff, call me.”
“I will.” Rhett said. Walker gave him a hug. “Love you brother, goodnight.”
“Love you brother.” Walker said, letting him go. “Goodnight.”
Rhett headed out and drove over to the lab at the station. He gave them the samples and ran it as John Doe. Since he didn’t want to go back home, he headed to the locker room area and changed out of his formal uniform into spare clothes he kept. Once he was in his casual clothes, he put his cowboy hat on and headed over to his office. He sat in there, staring at a blank computer screen for a couple of hours. Eventually he turned it on and started searching for his mother’s name. It took him a while to narrow down the search, but he finally found her.
“Fuck,” Rhett said, rubbing his scruff bread. “I don’t look anything like you. That means,” He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I look just like him.” He leaned his head back. “If you lived you may beat the shit out of me too for looking like him.” His phone started going off with the Captain America theme song. “Sorry Walker, but I don’t want to fucking talk right now.” It stopped ringing and then it went off again. “Nope,” he shook his head and it stopped ringing. Then his office phone rang. “Fuck.” He leaned forward and picked it up. “Yeah?”
Walker: “Why weren’t you picking up your phone?”
Rhett: “I was self loathing.”
Walker: “Self loath later. Shit may be hitting the fan cowboy.”
Rhett: “What the hell is going on Cap?”
Walker: “I ran into an old friend of mine from back in the day when I was getting milk for Wyatt. They said there’s a second killer.”
Rhett: “What?! Are they sure?”
Walker: “Sure enough that they told me to get Ava and Wyatt the hell out of the house before it’s too late. I’m heading back now. I’m going to take them to my parents' place. I want you to come to my house in an hour, they’ll explain everything.”
Rhett: “I’ll be there.”
Walker: “And Rhett, don’t tell any shit. Not till we know what we are up against."
Rhett: “You got it.”
They hung up as someone knocked on his door. “Come in,” Rhett called out. The door opened and an officer peaked in. “What’s up David? Anything you need?”
“There’s a gentleman here for you Detective." David said. “He says he’s your brother.”
“Fuck,” Rhett said, shaking his head. “Yeah, let the fucker in.” David nodded his head and stepped back, letting Perry walk in. “Thanks David, just close the door will you.” He closed the door and Perry took a seat. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Rhett,” Perry said, taking off his hat. “I was told by dad,”
“Your dad,” Rhett said and he shook his head. “Not my dad.”
He sighed. “He said I needed to do everything in my power to get you back home.” Perry said. “
“In your power huh?” Rhett said, leaning back in his chair. “I fucking dare you to try something Per. Because last night I checked, you never had any power. It was all Royal, not you. You were too much of a fucking pussy to do anything. I had to fight your fights for you. I had to fucking do everything for you.”
“Just quit and come back home,” Perry said leaning forward. Rhett took his gun out and pointed at Perry. “Rhett, put the gun down.”
“I can blow you fucking brians out and have it all over these walls, and you know what will happen to me?” Rhett said and he leaned forward. “Nothing. Because they all know me here and they know I don’t ever pull the trigger without a very good reason. I still have copies of the police report I made about what your fucking parents did to me. The sheriff back home was kind enough to send them to me. He thought it would be a good thing to hold on to, just in case you guys ever decided to track me down. So I can shoot you right now,” he smiled. “And I’ll play it off like I had some traumatic flashbacks and I feared for my life, leaving me no choice but to put you down.” He pulled the hammer back. “I want you to get up and get the fuck out of my office, and out of my city. And if I see your face again, I will blow it the fuck off. Got it.”
“Yeah,” Perry said, nodding his head. “I got it.’
“Go.” Rhett said, he motioned with his gun to the door. Perry got up and left his office, closing the door behind him. “Can this night get any more crazy?” There was a knock on the door. “I just had to fucking say it.” He sighed and shook his head as he put his gun away. “Come in!’ The door opened up and it was David. “Don’t tell me someone else is here to see me.”
“No sir.’ David said, as he walked in with a folder. “The lab tech just dropped this off. He said there was a match in our system to the John Doe sample you gave him.” He held it out to Rhett, but he just stared at it. “Dective? Is everything alright?”
“Yeah,” Rhett said, taking the fold. “Everything is fine. Thanks.”
“Is there anything you need before I head out on patrol?” David said.
“No,’ Rhett said, shaking his head. “You're a good man. Have a good night and be safe out there.” David nodded his head and headed for the door. “Let people know not to disturb me please.” He nodded his head and closed the door behind. “Alright,” he took a deep breath before opening up the folder. When he did, he saw the photo of the man that looked like an older version of him. “Shit.” He quickly closed it up and tossed the folder on his desk. He started breathing heavily as his hands started to shake. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths trying to calm himself. “Don’t be a pussy. Don’t be a fucking pussy.” He opened up his eyes and grabbed the folder, and opened it up again. He stared into his eyes, that mirrored his own for a few minutes before looking at his name. “Harry Ambrose former… detective.” He put the folder down. “Fuck.”
Rhett picked up the folder and went back to reading. But he had to keep stopping, letting what he was reading process. What should took him minutes to read, took him almost an hour. That’s when he put the folder down and realized what the time was. He jumped out of his seat and took off running through the station. He got to the parking lot and jumped into his car, and sped off to Walker’s house. As he did, his phone went off and the ID said, 9-1-1 dispatch. When he answered it, it seemed like the world slowed down as words he thought he would never hear were spoken to him.
The phone fell from his hands and he stepped on the gas as the world sped back up. He flew down the road, swerving in and out of traffic till he got to Walker’s street. When he did, there were multiple flashing lights from cop cars and caution tape. News vans were parked across the street trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening. Rhett waited for a car to pass before turning onto Walker’s street and parking as close as he could. He got out and they immediately let him through and into the house.
As soon as he stepped in, glass under his book crushed. He looked around, seeing furniture was tossed and broken, along with the whiskey bottle and the glasses they used. The dishes were broken and some lamps were knocked over. As he walked down the hallway Rhett could see blood splatter and bullet holes in the walls, and shell castings on the ground. Then he got over to Walker’s room, he saw Ava on the floor. Her stomach was slashed and several chunks of her flesh were gone from all parts of her body. Walker was tied to a chair, just a foot away from her. He had slash marks all over his body and face, and his throat was completely ripped out. He crouched down, seeing both of their eyes were open and fixed on each other.
“They made… they made you two.. Watch each other die.” Rhett whispers as his body starts trembling. He slowly got up as he started struggling to breath. “No. No. No.” He shook his head as tears formed in his eyes. “This… this isn’t real. It’s..not real.” He started stumbling back. “It’s not real. It’s not real.” He hit the wall. “It’s not.. It’s not real.” He slid down the wall as his emotions took over. “IT’S NOT FUCKING REAL! IT’S NOT FUCKING REAL!”
Cowboys & Monsters Part 5
Note: Normally I do gifs in the story as well, but I think I will add them later when I have more time to edit.
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28 Years Later, the long-awaited third installment of the 28 Days franchise, is an engaging watch with the usual artistic flair Danny Boyle brings to the director’s chair.
Although it feels lacking in the social commentary of the previous two, it’s beautiful scenery and intriguing evolutions of the infected still leave the viewer enjoying themselves. We see that the world has moved on and left the British Isles to fend for themselves, and what that looks like for a few small pockets of civilization off the coast.
The setting is breathtaking, and is a large part of what keeps the viewer engaged, leaving you with the uneasy sense that nature has already written over what we’ve accomplished in less than three decades. The plot follows a young boy on his first excursion beyond the safety of the town’s walls onto the mainland, a rite of passage he seems none too eager for. His sickly mother suffers from headaches and memory loss, but with not doctors or medicine, there’s little they can do to ease her pain. The first half sees our young protagonist fighting to get back home, while the second half has him running away in the hopes of find a cure for his mother.
Ralph Fiennes has a haunting performance as the former doctor he meets. It brings to mind Brando in Apocalypse Now with less gut and better insight. The real stand out is young Alfie Williams, whose quiet magnatism keeps the viewer’s eyes locked on him. His portrayal of a young man grappling with his own inner turmoil as he struggles to stand tall and become a man is increadibly endearing. Jodie Comer also does well, seamlessly going from different degrees of lucidity with ease.
One of the only complaints I have against this movie is one of the new evolutions of infected. Most of them were intriguing to me, but there was one I felt raised too many questions and made too little sense. I found the idea of the Alpha infected to be fascinating, as well as the low-slow types which have learned to eat insects and grown fat on them. I would have loved to see more of them looking half-decayed or even partially so; most of these zombies seem to be in excellent health aside from being dead. The other complaint would be that since this is a ‘part 1’ the ending felt a bit jarring. To his immense credit, Boyle has wrapped this story and not left us waiting for a conclusion that will be addressed in a few minutes when the sequel comes out six months later. It is a full story, which will hopefully lead into the next seamlessly when the time comes.
Overall, I’d give this movie 4/5 stars. While I felt the protagonist’s mission was futile, I did appreciate his dedication and how he persevered throughout. As with the previous two movies in this franchise, you come for the zombie action but stay for the discussions of morality in extreme situations. I will admit however that I am highly biased (28 Days Later is in my top ten for best movies of all time) so adjusting for that, you’re still looking at a solid 3-star horror movie.
