If Tyler Rake from the Extraction movies was the one assigned to escort Ellie Williams to the Fireflies, how would they fare compared to Joel?
Gets emotionally attached / successfully escorts Ellie to the hospital
Gets emotionally attached / fails to escort Ellie to the hospital
Doesn’t get emotionally attached / successfully escorts Ellie to the hospital
Doesn’t get emotionally attached / fails to escort Ellie to the hospital
Voting ended onMay 9, 2025
Propaganda:
Badass survivalist man traumatized by the death of their child has to escort a young person out of extremely hostile area. Is that not Last of Us?
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How would they have handled the Firefly hospital massacre:
Exactly the same way as Joel let’s be for real here. Maybe the difference would be hed move quicker and more efficiently than Joel since he’s ex-special forces.
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Hey Char, I know your thing is for Thor, but would you write any other Hemsworth characters? I just re-watched Extraction and it's such a "netflix" movie if you know what I mean, but this time I felt things for Tyler Rake, like, dude really needs a hug
A/N: Tyler Rake x F!Reader. I gave these lovahs a super soldier backstory because straight up he would not have survived that bullet wound. Smut on a table. Idiots in love.
It’s not that he doesn’t love her. It’s that he does.
You can’t have two mercenaries together. It’s suicide. It’s a target. But he comes back to her. Every. Fucking. Time.
He staggers through her door with blood painting his face or sheeting down his thigh and she puts him back together. Sometimes it’s her who comes to him. She finds him like she’s got a piece of herself inside him. A North Star. A bit of telepathy. She falls into him - lips quivering around some half-hearted description of whatever injury she has. She’s inhaled toxic fumes or gotten a stab to the gut that should have killed her, but didn’t. He attends to her. He attends to her in all sorts of ways.
No matter the wound, they live.
It’s because of who they are. What they’re made of.
Ten years ago, two soldiers were sent to Lab 406 and made durable. Tyler remembers all of it. She doesn’t. She buried it somewhere inside her where she cannot inspect it or touch it or bring it back. She refuses to relive it and it’s not like Tyler would ever ask her to.
They were reborn there. Hard as diamonds. They can still die, of course, but not very easily. He should have bled out on that bridge, but he didn’t. He should have drowned, but no.
He’s seen her come back from five bullets to the torso. He’s watched her nearly succumb over and over again and it still fucking breaks him because he always believes that each new time will be the last.
“We’ve got nine lives, Rake,” she husks from a bed in El Salvador. There’s a needle in her arm supplying her with fluids. A janky heart monitor that beeps and beeps. The bandage around her ribs is smeared in rust-red. Their hideout now a makeshift hospital.
He slips his thumb across her cheek, he sweeps it over her lower lip that’s parched and dry. “We’re out of them, baby,” he murmurs.
But they never are.
***
“This isn’t smart.” He grunts as he shoves her back against the edge of a table, as he digs his fingers into the meat of her thigh and makes her whimper like she isn’t already made of steel.
“No,” she pants against his mouth, tongue licking inside the cup of it. She grasps the hinge of his jaw to drag him down against her and he follows. He pins her to the table, covering her with his body. He pushes her knees apart before pressing into her and oh - it’s hot and wet and knot-tight. He drags his hips back before driving forward with a ruthless snap - forcing a gasp out of her that’s bruised with pleasure. This feels just like a fight. A cyclone of webbed energy and passion and too much.
“Is this what you want?” he rasps as he fucks her - thrusting in short, blunt strokes that punches the breath from her lungs. He’s not even sure how it went from him opening his door to him on top of her like this. His sweats are around his knees. The cups of her bra are rucked down around her stomach.
He’s mad. He’s furious. She’s put herself in danger again. She’s come to him when she shouldn’t have and he’s got a whole Russian syndicate on his ass and still she found him.
She clings to him, her fingers digging into his ribs, the heels of her feet knocking against his lower back. “Yes,” she replies. “I want you, Tyler. I just want you.”
He pauses for a moment. She never calls him Tyler. It’s Rake or dumb ass or fucker, but never his first name. He presses against her, hips at a slow grind, cock pulsing and twitching deep in her cunt where she clenches around him. He looks at her - eyes searching her desperate face.
“You found out,” he realizes - almost resigned. She blinks at him, cocking her head a little.
“Nik,” she replies. “Nik told me.”
He sighs and attempts to draw away from her, but she doesn’t let him. She wraps her arms around his neck and yanks him back to her heaving chest. He nearly tumbles off the table, his hand shooting out to grip the edge of the wood to balance his weight.
“She was sure you were dead,” she says in a hushed voice - her breath warm against his ear and his bristly cheek. “Shot through the neck…the river. You kept it from me.”
Not even accusatory…just sad. She’s sad, which is an emotion he has rarely seen overcome her. It stuns him.
“I was sure you were alive.” She trails off, mouth opening and closing as she searches for the words. Finally, she whispers. “I-I would have felt it. If you were dead…I would have known.”
He grimaces. Maybe - he should have guessed the reason for her visit the second she’d shoved her way through his door. Her expression had been one of relief and then she’d basically climbed up his body, curling herself around him like a wild vine. She’d cradled his face and kissed him so roughly, it vibrated through him, straight to his bones. He thought she was just there to fuck, which was usually the case.
He feels…anxious. A bit confused.
He’s still inside her, still holding himself up by a forearm so he won’t crush her smaller frame. He’s also weirdly touched. He had always thought he was the one more worried for her while she brushed off every single wound dealt to her person. Now - it was quite apparent, he’d been wrong. She could be scared for him. Upset.
“I lived,” he says gently as he strokes her thigh and then her hair. “I’m okay.”
He can feel her pull back an inch before burying her face into his neck. She’s panting a bit, nosing at the underside of his jaw and then she places a soft, wet kiss against the knotted scar from that nearly-fatal bullet. He shivers - reflexively thrusting shallowly into the warm wet clutch of her pussy.
“When Nic told me, I came running,” she reveals. “I didn’t-didn’t even think.”
What can he even say to that?
I’m pleased. I’m surprised. I didn’t think you were capable of that kind of fear.
He lifts himself up - placing both of his forearms on either side of her head to bear his weight. He regards her quietly - devoutly - a little bit more in love with her despite himself.
He decides to change the direction of the conversation, focusing on the very neon red fact that she shouldn’t be with him when he’s in a spot like this.
“Sweetheart,” he says. “It’s dangerous,” He runs his knuckles across her cheekbone - the furrow between her brows. “It’s not safe for you here.”
“When is it not?” she retorts, her eyes gleaming a bit too brightly. “You’ll need back-up.”
Of course.
He drops his face into her shoulder, exhaling long and loose and she digs her knees into his waist, squeezing him. She combs her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp. “Let me fight with you,” she pleads - moving against him, her lower muscles bearing down upon the length of his cock that’s sunk to the hilt. “Let me, Tyler.”
He jerks a bit at the sound of his name off her tongue. He’s going to come from this and won’t that be embarrassing? He can last hours fucking her rough and brutal, but the second she holds him like he’s something fragile, he crashes headlong into his peak.
She has never told him i love you, but sometimes she tries when they’re in moments like this. It’s on the tip of her tongue just as it is on his. They’re incapable of saying what they mean, especially to each other. They communicate through physical acts.
Fucking or fighting or both.
Usually, both.
“Alright,” he relents because he has never refused her. She wouldn’t leave if he asked. In fact, he’d have to forcibly manhandle her out of this hideout and she’d just clamber onto the roof or unlatch a window. “But you’ll listen to me,” he growls. “You’ll be safe.”
“As houses,” she quips before he edges his teeth across her earlobe - the lovely line of her neck. It’s back to the races - the temptation of the finish line within reach. He eases himself out of her, leaving just the tip before he plunges right back in.
“Oh,” she gasps. “Oh - Jesus, Ty.”
“Like that?” he coaxes. “Does that feel good?”
Her head falls back, her mouth parted around his name and damn he doesn’t know when the pace of this changed. When this sex became so fucking tender even if he’s still railing her on top of a dining room table.
Because she showed her hand. Because she came to you when she thought you had died. Because she was so terrified at the idea of losing you that she tracked your ass down to the middle of fucking nowhere in frigid Eastern Europe.
He cradles her cheeks - eyes boring into hers as he takes her in powerful, deliberate strokes, rolling his hips as she lifts her pelvis - the head of his cock stabbing deep as she cries out. They’re good at this together just as they are good at being partners when they take down an enemy. It’s strategized and it’s a dance and it’s her guessing every move he’ll make and be right.
If he could fuck her open, he would. If he could brand her with his fingerprints, he would. If he could make her come again and again without a moment to breathe, he would.
Their life has been unforgiving and all he wants is to please her, to save her, to make her his.
“Tyler,” she begs into the hot press of his kiss. “Tyler.”
Sorry this is late, guys. I’m having an awful period so I’ve been curled up napping, taking a hot bath, anything to feel more comfortable! Here you go, though. Enjoy!
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine
Visuals - The Verboten cast of characters post
Words - 2,531
Warnings - SMUT! Bit of angst, bit of fluff!
Tag list - In the comments! To be added/removed, please DM me :)
Chapter playlist - Madonna - Crazy for You
“Where’d you stay last night?”
“Slept at the station.”
“Oh.”
No, she didn’t care at all after initially inquiring into where he’d been the previous night, heading off upstairs with the laundry, Tyler continuing through into the lounge where he was dived on by his kids.
“Hey guys! You’re up early,” he commented, sitting down as Seth and Grace ambled onto his lap, receiving huge, bone crunching daddy cuddles.
“Or you’re up late, either of the two. Why weren’t you here when we woke up?” Grace asked, little hands stroking his beard. Zoey had professed to liking his facial hair a little fuller, so he’d obliged.
“I was too tired to drive, so I slept at the station.” Lie, of course. He couldn’t very well give the unsavoury, un-child friendly truth of ‘I was railing the shit out of your auntie until 3am’, though.
“And what happened to your head? That’s so cool, you’ve got stitches! Hey mummy, daddy’s got stitches!” Seth exclaimed as Ella walked back in, glancing over.
“Yeah, what he said. You okay?” She asked, returning to fold away the ironing board.
“Fine, just some footie louts kicking off yesterday after the match.” Ella’s questioning ended there, nodding before going back to ironing one of his uniform shirts. “So, what do you two want to do today, hmm? You’ve got me all day, so we might as well go out somewhere? It’s raining, so we could finally get that fishing trip in?”
The two were out of his arms while screaming with delight in seconds, shouting that they were going to get washed and changed out of their pyjamas. He didn’t bother asking Ella if she wanted to come, he knew full well what the answer would be. While his eldest two got themselves ready, he picked up Lani from her bassinette and went outside while bouncing her in his arms, enjoying the spring morning, albeit through shattered eyes.
“Bloody hell, one of ‘em fucking bit you?” He suddenly heard from behind him, Ella touching a finger to the side of his neck, immediately evoking the memory, him and Zoey so lost in the intensity of her riding him while filming it on her phone, that she’d taken a chunk out of his neck.
“Yeah, bastards.” He muttered, his wife shaking her head.
“Look, I know we’re not in a good place right now, but I still care. You believe that, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t. I’m not talking about this in front of her either, no matter that she doesn’t understand a word of it. We’ll talk later.”
Later didn’t happen though, after an entire day out with the kids, taking them for dinner afterwards and carrying them in from the car asleep one by one and tucking them into bed, he went to their large double garage and worked out before showering and heading to bed, Ella having gone up long ago. He was still in the spare room, of course.
Lying there, he wondered how much longer he was going to torture himself with it, existing in a marriage that had gone from rocky to beginning to crumble. Separate bedrooms, one spouse refusing to admit there was anything wrong and the other six weeks into an affair that showed no signs of abating. It wasn’t good. He doubted there was much recovery from the current state they were in.
Did he truly want to recover his marriage at this point though? If he was honest, if the impossible happened and Ella walked into that bedroom right at that moment, cuddled up to him, apologised and told him what was on her mind, he’d want to give things a shot. He did love her still. He knew that while he was starting to develop some kind of tentative feelings for Zoey, the love for his wife hadn’t completely gone away, no matter how stale their relationship was. Or that he was cheating on her. It didn’t mean he didn’t love her.
Or was that just what he told himself to make it easier?
He knew one thing clearly, though. He no longer respected her, which he guessed was a fair enough assimilation. She didn’t do much to command it, with her cold behaviour and refusal to work on things with him. They were at an impasse if she wouldn’t even tell him why she was pushing him away.
Still, though, he had his distractions, spending lots of time out with his kids, and the rest of his spare time, in Zoey. The following Friday, he’d met her right out of work and her from drinks with Paris, heading back to her apartment ready to enjoy the night of hot sex and bottle of espresso tequila she’d bought.
“What are you doing?” He laughed, a drunken Zoey, in her heels still skipping daintily down the hallway towards her apartment, turning and winking at him, shimmying out of her dress, kicking it up with her heel and turning to catch it neatly, sucking her middle finger seductively with a soft moan.
“Come get me.” In all her life, she’d never seen a man cover ground so fast. He picked her up, slamming her back against her apartment door, lust charging through him as he kissed her with ferocious need, his cock already straining for release at the front of his jeans.
“So, now I’ve got you, how do you want me to fuck you?” He asked, mouth at her neck, Zoey somehow managing to locate her keys and let them inside her abode.
“In the shower. I like it when you’re wet.” Carrying her straight through, he took his phone and wallet from his pockets, throwing them down by the sink, Zoey dropping her keys and bag before she was carried, fully clothed, into the shower, Tyler turning the water on and flattening her against the tiles, not a care in the world as they shared magmatic kisses, the jet quickly soaking them to the skin.
They didn’t even bother shedding their clothes, Tyler having changed out of his uniform prior to leaving work (this his second shower of the evening, the first at the station after a drunk had thrown up on him) and not particularly caring that the black jeans and grey t shirt he had on would require a turn in the dryer before he could leave. He’d already told Ella he was out with the boys and staying at Jimmy’s place.
Freeing his cock, he yanked her thong to the side and plunged himself into the aqueous silk of her cunt, giving her his many inches with inexorable zeal, his hips driving against her like a piston as she pawed at him, their mouths a mess of feverish, open-mouthed kisses.
He sucked at her neck, making her feel like she was breaking apart from the voracity of his fuck, denim rubbing at her thighs, her sensitive walls dragged by hot steel, her fingers sweeping through his wet hair as she felt her heart crash wildly in her chest. The heat between them was utterly primal, the sex they shared beyond wild, bodies grinding together with the most acerbic of friction, culminating in them both tightly coiling before the glow was released, leaving them breathless and spent beneath the water.
Once out, dry and clothes going round in Zoey’s dryer, they stood naked in the kitchen, listening to music, doing shots and laughing. All the while, she couldn’t help but think too, that whenever she was with him, she was at her happiest. It wasn’t just the sex, it was the fact she was having sex with a man she counted as one of her closest friends, so being around him was always a guaranteed good time.
It was moments like this, laughing until her sides hurt before being chased up to bed, that she had a hard job in thinking she was doing anything wrong, even though of course, she knew that she was. Him and her, it just felt right, it made sense.
“I had something in mind for tonight, you know,” she told him sultrily, grabbing her toy box from under the bed while Tyler lay back, eyebrows raised with interest, beginning to grin when her coil of black bondage rope made an appearance. “Oh, but not for me. For you.”
“Oh, you want your beast restrained tonight then, tiny mistress of pleasure?”
“Well, you did say you were happy to wait your turn. It’s your turn now, at least if you’re willing to switch like that, since I know you’re dominant by nature.”
“I’m willing. It’ll be a first too, since I’ve never let anyone bind me before.” Zoey felt quite pleased to hear that she’d be the first to let someone as sexually adept as Tyler experience something new with her. Especially, since as she mentioned, he was an extremely dominant lover.
Copying how he’d looped the rope around her forearms and bound them together when he’d tied her up, she secured him, giggling as she leaned forward and felt him tickling her nipples with his tongue, getting off the bed to tie each end of the rope to the top corner posts, securing him tightly before picking up her next piece of ammunition.
“Apparently this is white chocolate flavoured.” Twisting the top off the bottle of massage oil, she sniffed it, pouring a drop on her finger and sampling it. “Oh, yum! It does actually taste like it. Wanna try some?”
“Can’t hurt, I guess.” His grin grew wide when she poured out more into her palm, rubbing it between her legs before positioning herself above her face, gasping when she felt his tongue take a long, firm swipe at her.
“Yeah, it does. Although I prefer the way you taste all on your own.” She let him lave at her for only a short time longer before moving, kissing her way down his chiselled body until she reached his cock, taking him into her mouth with a firm suck, having him fully hard from his semi-erect state in minutes. Just being tied up had worked very favourably upon him, enjoying it much more than he presumed he would.
The groan she evoked from flicking her tongue over the very tip of his cock made her insides pulse, his deep rasp beyond arousing, wetting her hand with the massage oil and grasping his shaft. Getting him slippery, she then placed the oil on the bedside table, moving back to him, her hand pumping slowly while she licked his balls at the same time.
The sound of the rope straining as he pulled against his restraint was sinfully erotic, increasing the pressure of her grip slightly, the thick dorsal vein of his shaft tight and bulging against the press of her thumb as she wringed him again, twisting her grasp, making him pant.
“Oh no, you gorgeous beast. Not yet.” She purred, backing off when she sensed him beginning to ascend. Pleasure crackled through him, Zoey licking her cupids bow before circling the head of his hardness with a slow swipe of her tongue, watching his head tip back with a guttural groan.
She kept working him like that, mouth and hand building him up only to relax and let him cool down again, until his body shook, overly aroused and tightly wound, needing something, anything more. “If you don’t get on me, I swear, I’ll...”
“You’ll do what? Nothing. You’re tied up, and I’m in control.” She spread kisses from his hip, up over the tattoo covering the side of his ribcage and around to lick his nipple, her oily hand working his hot, slippery shaft. The power she had over him made her insides fizz, but she knew though, as soon as she untied him, it would be like freeing an angry demon from the vessel it had inhabited. Therefore, she chose to leave him bound, her tongue running a slow, flat lick up his chest, watching his arm muscles cording as he tensed and pulled against the rope.
“You’re so fucking hot. Here, have these, taste how wet sucking your cock has gotten me.” Pushing her hand between her legs, she gathered her slick, pushing them into his mouth while diverting her own to his neck, gently biting so as not to mark him (once had been a close enough call) and licking his throat, scattering kisses as he sucked with a wanton growl.
Wrapping her hand around the girth of him, she shifted back, guiding the pre cum soaked head of his massive erection between her folds, gasping as he slipped and slid over her clit. She was all for teasing him a little more, but oh, he was like iron. Who could possibly resist being split by that? Not her. Positioning him at her gaping opening, she sank down, his moan so barbarous, she nearly came from hearing it, nails gliding over his chest as she began to ride him.
Looking up at her, she was his ultimate fantasy personified, a dark haired, golden eyed girl who loved absolutely everything that got him off in bed, and was willing to try new things with him as well. It was never stale, never predictable and god, how that excited him so very dangerously. Watching her, the gentle bounce of her small, yet beautifully perfect tits as she rode him, her mouth agape, soft cries fluttering over her lips, he was utterly bewitched by her.
Sweat streaked their bodies as they grinded together with feral urgency, their exclamations filling the air, Zoey feeling as if he was about to go through her with the force of each upward movement, his arms muscles tensed firmly as he struggled against the rope, eyes like blue fire staring right at her. The heat sizzled, both of their bodies chasing the sublime, falling into euphoria as sparks skittered, the coils within them snapping violently, leaving them shaking, overcome, knocked sideways.
Their descent was slow, the fiery pleasure ebbing away as they twitched and panted against one another, Zoey eventually reaching to unfasten his bindings. As soon as he was free, his wrists rubbed raw from the rope, he flipped her onto her back, pinning her down by her neck.
“You’re in trouble now.”
Of that, she was in no doubt.
For the rest of the early hours, they fucked until they were physically too sore to continue, lying curled around one another in the warm cocoon of Zoey’s bed, beneath soft blankets, Tyler asleep before her.
In just the dim light coming from her salt lamp, he looked absolutely perfect, her heart fluttering as she stroked his hair, sweeping his forelock away from his head. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, for him to have come to mean something real to her, but she couldn’t deny that he had.
“Why couldn’t you have met me first?” She whispered, kissing his head before curling into him, his arms tightening around her in sleep, big hands flexing like bear paws at her back. She enjoyed it for the time she had, before he’d return to Ella, leaving her feeling lonely without him.
A/N: Alright so here is chapter two everyone! Lot’s of tension and bickering and banter in this one - but also some pretty raw and tender moments towards the end as Tyler and Kate start to realise their feelingsssssss.... i hope you enjoy! :)))))))))))
I stop in my tracks immediately, the sharp pain jolting all through my rib cage like being stabbed over and over again with every step that I take. I curl over at the waist, my hands clutching at my side as if that’s going to do anything at all.
We’ve been jogging through a heavily wooded forest area, where I’ve been desperately trying to keep up with him. But he is a giant man, and as I watch him running I realise he has to be over 6ft, at least. Whatever his height is, all I know is that one of his strides equals about 3 of mine. It also really doesn’t help that each time my feet hit the ground, a sharp pain shoots up through my ribs.
I hear foot steps coming back my way, followed by Tyler’s irritated voice.
“You need to keep up”
“I would if you didn’t break one of my goddamn ribs”
“I didn’t break your ribs, trust me. But I can if you wan’t, then at least you’ll actually have something to complain about”
I glare up at him through the disheveled hair that has fallen in my face. I don’t even bother fighting back, as that would take energy I really do not have right now. The pain is clouding my wits, I can barely think.
Maybe it was the fact that I didn’t have anything to say back, or the fact that I cannot stand up straight without gasping in pain, but something alerts him that maybe I’m not over exaggerating about this. Because suddenly he’s kneeling down in front of me, telling me he needs to take a look.
“Let me have a look then” he nods, his face bored as though he’s just trying to get this over and done with to appease me. His hand reaches for my torso but I swat him away immediately.
“Don’t touch it” I hiss
He sighs “Look we need to hurry, just sit down so I can check it”
I reach out for the tree trunk beside me, grimacing as I lower myself to the floor in defeat.
“I’m just gonna look okay, I’m not gonna touch it” he reassures me as slowly takes the hem of my shirt in his hands and glides it upwards.
I watch his face change as my torso becomes exposed, his eyes falling over my ribs. He looks slightly taken aback at the sight, hanging his head.
“Ah fuck” he breathes, and I begin to panic.
“Is it broken or not?” I demand.
“No,” he shakes his head as he takes one last look at my ribs before carefully pulling down my top “But it’s starting to bruise… bad”
I watch his face closely. His once underwhelmed expression is now riddled with concern and guilt. On top of that, he looks angry, but not with me this time. No. this time he looks angry with himself. The air feels heavy around us now, and I feel like I’m looking at a whole different person. For the past hour that I’ve known this man he has been nothing but unforgivingly brutal. He has had no time for sympathy, and the only look I’ve seen on his face majority of the time is rage. My brain ticks at one hundred miles an hour as I try to comprehend how the man who killed a room full of people is now kneeling in front of me so sheepish and small.
“Sorry, I didn’t realise how hard I-“ he begins to apologise, his voice and face coated and dripping with shame. I almost can’t believe that the word sorry is coming out of his mouth. But suddenly a voice from his ear piece cuts in.
“Tyler somethings wrong, hold your position”
His eyes dart back to mine nervously.
“There’s someone else in those woods. About 100 meters out. They’re closing in on your position”
I can physically see Tyler’s stomach drop as the reality of the words set in. He immediately springs into action, holding out his hands to try help me up of the ground. As I stand up, the pain tears down my side. The only thing stopping me from crying out in pain is the fear of whoever is closing in on us. I might be in severe pain, pain that I don’t think I’ve ever felt before, but I’m not stupid. If we stay here now, we will die. Tyler will die. I don’t know this man. But I am not costing him his life. I can’t.
“Can you walk-“
“I’m fine” I lie, through clenched teeth. He hesitates, knowing that I’m blatantly lying as he stares down at me.
“Tyler, run” I growl. Taking my hand in his, we both take of in a sprint, back tracking the way we came in. We’re going back to the car. Abandoning all efforts to stay quiet, we crash through the bushes and leaves. This isn’t about stealth, this is about survival. The threat of someone who wants us dead biting at our heels, I have no choice but to keep up with him or we both die. I momentarily forget about the pain in my side that I’m sure is only being made worse by the countless tree branches that I’m crashing into as we run. But Tyler is the one taking the brunt of the tree branches and leaves that whip at us as he leads ahead, clearing the way. But everything almost seems to move out of his way as the brute strength and force of his body demolishes any obstacles in our path.
All noise seems to have droned out as my only focus is running with everything I have in me. That is, until the sound of a sharp, whizzing bullet flies directly above us. It misses us, but lodges directly into a the tree trunk that is only a couple of centimetres above our heads.
A heavy weight pulls me down to the ground, and I realise Tyler has dragged me down behind a large boulder for coverage. Both of us pant heavily, trying to retrieve what little breath we can. I stay crouched down behind the rock as Tyler fires a few rounds in the direction of our pursuer faster than the blink of an eye. Then, he turns back to me, desperately fumbling with his vest until he pulls of a grenades.
“When I throw this, run” he tells me firmly, as he rips the pin from the bomb. It feels like slow motion as his long arms peg the detonating bomb over the boulder and away from us.
I can barely hear him screaming at me to run as the sound of the explosive fills the air around us. We both scramble, fighting to get up of the ground and hit the ground running in an immediate sprint.
I’m not even sure if I’m running in the right direction, all I know is that I’m moving with every last fibre of my being. I keep my head low, my arms raise overhead in some kind of bid to protect myself from the bullets that are speeding through the air past us. My only indication to whether Tyler is still even with me is the sound of his crashing foot steps as he runs behind me. Suddenly there is a break in the wooded area we’ve been charging through, and we enter the clearing where the car is sitting.
“GO, GO! GET IN THE CAR” Tyler’s voice booms from behind me as I speed towards the passengers side. As I rip the door open and thrust myself into the car, I look back to see Tyler guarding me. Once I’m in he fires a few final bullets and suddenly he’s bursting into the drivers side.
Before I can even gather myself, Tyler’s foot hits the acceleration and the car lurches forward so ferociously it almost leaps of the ground. The back end of the car drifts, swerving left and right as the wheels spin out beneath it, before it suddenly kicks into gear and we take of flying straight ahead.
Without warning, we burst into streets that are filled and bustling with civilians. I can hear their screams they all fly out of our way. People are everywhere, and I can hear Tyler shouting for the countless people on motorbikes to move as we narrowly miss every single one of them. Boxes of fruits and products fall victim to us on our path of destruction as the car ploughs straight through them.
I’m so busy desperately trying not to smack my head on the roof of the car it swerves and bounces that I have no time to prepare myself when Tyler suddenly begins shouting countless profanities. I look up ahead to see the end of the road being blocked of by three police vehicles. Tyler slams on the breaks, the car halting so abruptly that only a miracle that my hands on the dashboard stop me from flying through the front windscreen. Without even a second of hesitation, Tyler shoves the gear stick into reverse with such haste that I half expect it to rip clean off.
“They’re police!” I exclaim as we speed backwards, away from them “Tyler stop they’re police!”
“No they’re not” he shouts over the now wailing sirens of the police vehicles that are surging after us. I furrow my brows at him as he spins the car around until we’re out of reverse, before taking off again.
I turn in my seat, looking back at the police in panic. I thought I could trust Tyler. Why the hell is he driving us away from them. I narrow my eyes, and suddenly see that those men aren’t officers at all. They’re dressed in black clothing; and it doesn’t take me long to realise that they’re have hijacked those police cars.
Chaos ensues as two of the cars spin out of control, colliding with food stalls and innocent by standers. The same voice from before bursts over Tyler’s radio speaker. The woman’s voice shouts directions to Tyler, telling him to turn right at the bridge. When I turn back in my seat, I’m met with a giant metal gate that we are only getting closer and closer to. With no sign of Tyler slowing down, I brace myself for impact, unable to stop myself from letting out a scream as we smash through it. I stare ahead in shock, mouth wide open as I realise we just smashed right through those metal gates, and are still alive. I look over at Tyler in shock to see that he looks completely unbothered by the fact that we could have just died. This guy is a goddamn maniac.
Suddenly one of the hijacked police vehicles rams straight into the back of our car, sending both Tyler and I lurching forward. We both look back in panic over our shoulders to see the man who was pursuing is in the woods, is now manically driving behind the wheel of that car.
“FUCK!” Tyler shouts, making a sharp turn to try and throw him off, but it doesn’t work. This only helps him gain in on us, as he begins to creep up towards the passenger side.
The sound of smashing glass bursts into the air and I look over to see that Tyler’s window has been shot and broken. Shards of glass cover us both, as the man fires of a few more rounds in our direction.
I see Tyler desperately fumble for the gun on his vest, but the second he takes his hands of the wheel we almost spin out. This man is going to fucking kill us if we don’t do something.
“Give me your gun” I feel myself shout suddenly, as I reach for his vest.
He shoves my hand away, before turning the car down into another street.
“I SAID GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING GUN” Using all my might I reach over and snatch the pistol from his belt. All in one movement I turn in my seat and angle myself out of the window slightly.
“GET BACK IN THE FUCKING CAR!” I hear Tyler scream at me, but I’m not listening. My eyes are locked on the driver behind us. The second he see’s me, he aims his gun at me, but I beat him to it.
Squeezing the pistol, I send a bullet flying straight for his head. As it smashes through the front wind screen it narrowly misses him, but the shock still distracts him and his wheels screech as he loses control of the car. This gives us a small advantage and a small window of time to get away from him. I feel a hand on my vest as Tyler tugs me, yanking me back into the car. He speeds up, putting his foot to the floor. I watch as the man behind us struggles to regain control of his car, fighting with the steering wheel until it finally spins out and he collides with the side of a building.
Tyler suddenly makes a sharp right turn, pulling us into a virtually empty back street.
“Out!” he shouts as we both scramble with great urgency and anxiety. He grabs my arm and we take off running up the stairs of the apartment buildings next to us. We rush up the stairs in leaps and bounds, constantly checking over our shoulders but there is no sign of anyone following us.
Just when I begin letting the smallest inch of my guard down, and attempt to catch my breath, it is quickly whisked away again by Tyler shoving me up against the wall.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing back there huh?” He growls in my face, pinning my shoulders back against the wall. This is a vast change from the worried Tyler back in the woods. The Tyler who looked guilty for causing that giant bruise on my ribs. Right now, with the look on his face, he looks like he couldn’t care less if he did it again.
I grab at his chest, trying to push him away, but of course I can’t. He doesn’t even budge.
“That little stunt you pulled back there could have gotten us both killed”
“But it didn’t! We’re here aren’t we!” I challenge him, my eyebrows raised. He shakes his head at me in bewilderment.
“Don’t EVER do that again? Do you hear me? If I fucking lose you I-” He catches himself before he finishes his words. I stare up at him, heart racing for what he was about to say. For what he stopped himself from saying.
“If you lose me what huh?” I stare up at him “Why the fuck do you care what happens to me?”
His chest rising and falling heavily as he looks down at me, our faces only inches apart. Our eyes locked on each other, I watch his internal battle. For a moment I see the smallest, fleeting hint of weakness. Of softness. Why is he looking at me like that? But it doesn’t last long.
“I need my fucking pay out. Try anything like that again and I’ll kill you myself”
But his voice sounds unsure. Like he doesn’t believe his own words. With that he gives me one final shove before stalking away from me to the other side of the room. I’m unable to take my eyes of him as I try to swallow and comprehend whatever just happened between us.
Just when I thought he showed me a moment of tenderness, of care, back in the woods. His normal disgust and hatred for me is back again. My supposed ‘rescuer’, who couldn’t hate me more.
He turns away from my slightly, busying himself with reloading his gun. As he does, my eyes fall over his arm - more specifically the blood that is covering one of them.
“Tyler you’re bleeding” I blurt out. It’s not a lot, but enough to show through his sleeve. Enough to do damage if left unattended.
He follows my gaze, looking down at his arm where blood is soaking through.
“Yeah a bullet will do that to you” I replies nonchalantly.
Thinking that he has been hit with a bullet I rush over to him, but he waves his hands, dismissing me.
“Relax, it just grazed me”
“You still need to cover it” I urge, completely baffled at how little he cares about this.
“Why the hell do you care?”
“Well I wouldn’t want you to miss your fucking pay out now would I” I scoff, watching as he rips the bottom of his shirt with ease until he has a long strip of fabric in his hands.
I expect him to fire back an insult, but to my surprise, he smirks. The tension easing a little, I also find the corner of my mouth curling up into a smile.
“Since you’re so worried, tie this around my arm” he raises his brows, holding out the fabric for me to create a tourniquet.
I snatch it from him, as he holds his wounded arm out to me. I try to ignore his eyes staring at me, trying to intimidate me as I wrap the shred of t-shirt around his arm. I also try to ignore the realisation that’s dawning on me at just how huge his arms are. They’re practically bulging out of his shirt. Making a knot, I pull tight. Tighter than I probably had to, but he deserves it for being such an asshole.
He clenches his jaw, grimacing in pain when I do so.
“Watch it” he warns me, but I shrug at his comment acting clueless.
“Come on, it’s just a graze, right?”
He stares down at me, his lips slightly parted to speak but no words following their lead. I know he see’s me as just a money grab. Some rich guys daughter who he needs to return home for a big case of cash in exchange. But that doesn’t mean he gets to treat me like an idiot.
I stare back up at him defiantly, not wavering under the firm grip that his eyes have on me. Then, if I’m not mistaken, his eyes flicker down to my lips. He quickly pulls them away from my mouth and back up ti my eyes, so fast that if I had of blinked I would have missed in entirely. But I didn’t miss it. I saw it.
I don’t have more than a few milliseconds to begin trying to understand what the hell that means when gun fire sprays the building we’re in. Immediately Tyler springs into action. The Tyler that was bantering with me just moments ago is gone, as the switch flips in him and he jumps straight into his stone cold soldier mode.
We both crouch down below the windows of the room as he grabs my hand and leads me out of the room. Once we are away from the windows we both stand, he lets go of my hand, replacing it with his gun. Standing protectively in front of me, we stalk through the abandoned apartment building, snaking through each room until he finds one with no windows.
He turns back to me, hand on the small of my back as he guides me into the room. Once we’re inside, he stands me against the wall - gently this time - and raises a finger to his mouth, signalling to stay quiet. I feel my ears prick as footsteps begin to approach from outside the room.
Tyler hides right out of sight in the door way, and I hold my breath, praying that he doesn’t get hurt. If something happens to him, not only am I a goner, but I will never be able to live with the fact that he died saving me. I can’t. The footsteps get louder and louder and I feel the anxiety in my stomach clawing its way up into my chest.
Suddenly, Tyler strikes forward, and the man hunting us down is flung against the wall. In a series of movements that happen entirely to fast for me to even comprehend, Tyler knocks the gun out of his hand and pins him against the wall so ferociously I can hear the mans bones cracking against the concrete. A knife appears in Tyler’s hands seemingly out of no where, and before my eyes I watch him plunge the blade into the man’s neck. He delivers three more fatal blows, slicing the bloody knife across the mans jugular vein over and over again.
And then, it’s over seemingly before it even began. The man falls to the ground, landing at my feet, with blood gushing from the wounds in his neck. Dead.
I pull my eyes away from the dead body at my feet to look at Tyler, but there’s nothing much to see. He’s already moved on, completely dismissing the life that he just took like it was nothing. He signals for me to follow behind him in the hall way, and when I take to long he grabs my vest and forces me behind him. Staying so close to his back I may as well be attached to him, we take a few slow, quiet steps forward. But that’s only as far as we get before two more men come flying towards us from around the corner.
I stumble backwards as Tyler attacks the first man, taking only seconds to kill him with a fatal shot through the chest. When the second assailant approaches, Tyler combats him with his fists. It only takes one punch to disorientates the man, who stumbles backwards giving Tyler enough to aim his gun. I watch with my mouth open so wide in shock it my jaw may as well have touched the floor as Tyler fires a bullet straight through the man’s head.
Two bullets. He has killed two men with only two bullets in what feels like a matter of moments. Now that I’m learning how lethal Tyler really is, witnessing it with my own eyes, my mind flashes back to the room full of dead men that Tyler had mowed through to rescue me earlier today. Now that I’m seeing what he’s truly capable off, that doesn’t seem that far fetched. In fact, it seems like it would have been a breeze to him.
The sound of Tyler shouting my name rips me abruptly from my shock induced flashback. He lunges forward, scooping me up with one arm and planting me firmly behind him. It’s only once I’m being shielded by his giant stature that I see what he was yelling about. Another attacker had been coming up behind me with a gun, and I was second away from being just as dead as the men around us. But Tyler had stopped that. He had thrown himself in front of me, literally putting himself in the line of fire to protect me like it was nothing. Like it was a reflex. Muscle memory.
As Tyler wrestles with the man who almost killed me, movement to our left catches my attention. Realising another man is running towards me at full speed, I spin on my heels and begin sprinting. As I burst through apartment after apartment, I can hear the man hot on my heels. I have no plan. No where to hide. Just every atom in my body screaming at me to run. Until, I meet a dead end. As I burst into the room and head for the door that will take me out to the balcony that wraps around the entire apartment complex, I shake at the handle desperately, just to discover that it is locked.
Back pedalling as I fast as I can, I turn to run out of the room, but instead I smash straight into the body of the man chasing me.
“No, no, no” I begin to beg, each cry for mercy louder than the other as I try to back away from him. But I have no where to escape. With one blow he punches me, delivering a blow to my cheek so hard I can feel it swell almost immediately. As I stumble, clutching at my face, he wastes no time wrapping his arms around me, wrangling me to stay still and comply as he begins to drag me away.
All I can do is scream. When I do, the first and only thing that comes out of my mouth is Tyler’s name. It’s all I can say. Its the only thing that comes to my mind. Over and over again I scream, calling out his name. Begging, praying that he can hear me. That he will find me.
My arms and legs lash out maniacally, desperate to cling on to anything that will stop this man from taking me. Stop him from taking me back to my kidnappers. Stop him from taking me to my death. But something else stops him. One single gun shot bursts into air. Not only do I hear it, but I feel it. I feel it fly so close to my face that I can feel it’s hotness on my cheek. But it doesn’t hit me. Instead, my attacker suddenly goes limp. His once suffocating grip on me going completely loose. As he falls, he takes me to the ground with me. We hit the floor with a thud, and the only reason I know I’m not the one whose dead is the fact that I can feel my goddamn ribs pounding even worse than before.
I look up to find Tyler standing in the doorway, his gun pointed at us. As soon as he knows the man is dead he drops his gun to the floor immediately, running over to me. I don’t know what it is, desperation maybe. Complete and utter fear. The fact that he had thought I was about to die. But for some reason when Tyler runs over to me, he scoops me up in his arms and holds me so tightly for a few moments that I can’t breathe. But I don’t care. As I’m enveloped in his arms, I’ve never felt more safe in my life. The sensation is overwhelming I feel like my heavy panting is about to turn into even heavier sobs.
“You’re okay, you’re okay I’ve got you” He chant’s over and over again in my ear, breathing heavily. For the next few moments we forget everything, clinging onto one another desperately. To scared to let go.
He lets go momentarily, but only to move his hands to my face, holding it firmly.
“Are you hurt?” He panics as he scans me up and down, desperation on his face. When his eyes fall over the mark on my face from where I was punched he curses under his breath.
“I’m okay, I’m okay” I nod and he exhales harshly in giant sigh of relief.
“You scared the shit out of me, yeah. Don’t ever scare me like that again” He tells me firmly as he can, but I can hear the poorly hidden shakiness in his voice.
As we stare at each other intensely, I see something I haven’t seen on Tyler’s face yet. Fear. He looks completely terrified. But not just terrified of anything… terrified of losing me… Everything he was saying before, about how he just need’s me for the pay check has gone out the window. No. In this moment, he couldn’t care less about his pay check, and there’s no hiding it. Right now, all he cares about is that I’m alive and safe, and in his arms.
