The Dead World Ch. 15

She beelined for her room with dawn on the horizon. It was raining heavily, thick drops splattering against the windows as she made her way quickly through the lobby and up the stairs, not wanting to risk slowing down or stopping for a moment should she happen upon someone she did not want to encounter. That thought had her stall at her door at that, fearful that Skully would be waiting just beyond, or Slash. At that, she was cautious in the way she pushed the door open, and listened for any movement beyond.

Dove stepped into the room apprehensively, closing the door hard behind her... her eyes dropped immediately to bits and pieces of things she was certain Skully had found for her from the abundant supply of luggage scattered about the resort. Pretty lingerie in white lace, sheer undergarments in pale pink, silky halter dresses of gold and teal, more revealing low-cut blouses--she shoved the items to the floor from the bed with roiling anger. She threw herself onto the mattress, grasping one pillow and burying her face into it as she screamed viciously until she no longer had breath to do so.

He needs to die; he DESERVES to die! How... how could she accomplish that was the question that haunted her every waking moment. Her thoughts raced; first to the armory locker in the southern tower--no... they knew about it now. Dog had inadvertently given them that knowledge. They would have cleared it entirely.

Dog had tried once already, if she believed what Skully told her. If he had little success, then how the hell could she ever hope to accomplish such a feat? Her thoughts shifted to the other men in the group, wondering how she might sway their loyalty and inspire them to act against the code they had followed for so many years.

She kicked her little feet free of the boots and shut the world from her senses, and felt herself tumbling deeper into her solemn emptiness, the solitude almost suffocating in ways she could never recall. As rain pinged upon the metal balcony just beyond, the curtains drawn wide to showcase a dark sky and ominous clouds; she let her thoughts churn over and over again to ways to be rid of the antagonistic man orchestrating such damning suffering and evil among them. It would only get worse, she knew, before she was free of him... and the longer she thought of that, the more she feared that he would even hold to his word and allow her to be free of him once they reached their destination.

There was a rapid knock on the door. Her eyes snapped open, and she peered across the suite toward the foyer cautiously, a rush of hope seizing her heart. It wasn't their usual pattern, the playful knocks in increments of five with the hesitation between the first and the following four... but maybe Dog had realized their calling card had been used against them several times now.

She rapidly cleared the space between her bed and the door, and called out with uncertainty, "Who is it?"

The rapid fire knocking resounded as she craned to the tips of her toes to peer through the peephole, only needing a moment before she hurriedly removed the locks and swung the door wide, allowing Dog to rush inside. His arms had encircled her slight waist, and pulled her close as she slammed the door shut behind him and snapped the deadbolt back into place, her chest tightening as she bit back tears.

"Danny..."

The break in her voice ripped at his heart as he took her face in his hands and rested his forehead to hers; the tears she had held back for days now welling and spilling down her cheeks. She curled her arms around the taller youth and held onto him desperately, the gentle brush of his thumbs smoothing the tears from her pretty face, inspiring a bittersweet smile to tug her lips. "I'm happy you're alright--I was so worried about you."

His dark hazel gaze was searching her face, the fact that she looked so very different from the last he had seen her several days ago unsettling. He didn't want to pull away from her to write. He'd honestly never wished for the ability to speak freely more than he did now, but he quickly pulled her into the room, and moved to the desk to take the pen and pad from there, rapidly scribbling onto the paper and presenting it to her. 'Let's go. Right now.'

The moment her eyes swept over the note, they went wide, and she shook her head vehemently. "We can't. There's no fucking way--there are dangerous people out there looking for us... and there's something... something strange happening to me. I can't explain it, but Skully knows, and there's no fucking way he'll stand for it this time--Dog, please, stop--stop! We can't."

His fingers had encircled her wrist, and he all but dragged her toward the door despite her desperate attempts to remain where she stood. She twisted her hand from his grasp forcefully, shaking her head viciously once more.

"Don't make me have to hunt you down... that was what he said to me yesterday. If we leave, and they find us, he's going to kill you Daniel... We fucked up, we have no more chances, don't you understand that?!"

His expression hardened with that same fiery defiance he always had as he fished a set of keys from his pocket and presented them to her... the keys to the Firebird. He saw contemplation break her fear and apprehension as she stared at the keys in his hand for a split second. He saw her longing, and her hope. She let her eyes dance back up to him as he closed the space between them, and carefully reached for her hand to place the keys into her palm and close her fingers around them. Her gaze grew dark, and her expression serious and cold, in a way he had never seen before.

"... What do you not understand? If we get caught, he's going to fucking kill you... that's if the people looking for us don't get to us first! Do you think that he or Slash don't know these are missing already? Put them back where you got them." She thrust her palm back toward him with stubborn determination, rivaling his own. His brow furrowed deeply, frustration building to new heights as he clenched his hands into fists and spun away from her to stifle his growing anger, almost inspired to pace the floor as she continued to speak with that same viciously direct and unyielding tone of voice.

"Dog, listen to me. Put. Them. Back. I'm trying to protect you!"

He snatched the pen and paper once again, scribbling down a note and holding it up before her eyes. 'I protect YOU. My job!' He threw the pad of paper at her feet, stroking his hands back through the long, messy locks as she closed the space between them and reached out to take his face between her delicate hands. With that same heated defiance, he pulled free from her touch and withdrew with building anger, glaring pointedly at Charlotte as her expression softened with defeated sympathy.

"Don't hate me... please... just do this for me, just for now. We can try again later. We will try again... just not now, not with so much at stake. He's threatened you, too. I know he has. I can't... I won't watch him hurt you..." She trailed off abruptly as her voice trembled, and curled her arms around herself, moving away from him toward the balcony door. The storm had picked up. It looked as if it were night just beyond the glass doors, the ocean waves as chaotic and unforgiving as the barely spoken words broiling between them on whether to flee, or remain and endure.

The tension was thick enough she felt she could slice it with a knife should she attempt to. He wanted to break something. He wanted to grab the dainty thing and throw her over his shoulder and force her out of the living hell she had been coerced into, because anywhere would be better than where they were... but there was a stillness and a solid resolve to her suffering. She would not concede.

It was far too clear to him that Skully's manipulations were taking a toll on her, and while he would fight the demented turn of events until he physically could not anymore... some part of him knew that there would be no arguing with this woman.

Already he could see her steeling herself there as she looked out over the turbulent sea through heavy sheets of falling rain. She was not fearful or shaken for herself. She was absolutely determined that she would protect him, even if it meant she would suffer for it. He huffed bitterly and tried to force understanding into his own thoughts, rather than focus on her submission and acceptance of defeat.

He watched her for a long few moments as she stood with her back to him... and the longer he stared at her, the faster he felt his anger and frustrations subside. Her dark hair fell in waves of loose spiral curls down her back, her posture tense and resolute. He sighed deeply and released the last of his irritations. The distance between them disappeared. He curled his thin arms around her from behind and rested his chin atop her head as he succumbed to her logical calculations in full.

"Hmph."

Charlie turned to face him. She extended the hand with the keys in her palm, and gently tucked them into the wide pocket at the front of the black hoodie he wore, her eyes slipping closed as he kissed her forehead apologetically. He hadn't meant to upset her any more than she already was. Deep down, he knew she was right, and unwilling to take such fleeting risks if it meant for a moment the fault would fall upon him.

"... Thank you," she spoke the words softly, and forced a smile to pull over her lips as he studied her pretty face, his eyes the hue of lush green and rich earth warmed with concern and hopeless affection. He nodded his head gently, and let her reach to entwine her fingers with his own long, thin digits, leading him back to the bed, which was still a haphazard mess from days ago.

"Lay here with me, while you're here. I'm supposed to go to Slash... but he didn't say specifically when, so fuck him, and fuck Slash."

This was the fiery woman he had grown to adore. Her words tempted a smile to pull over his lips, hearing her curse the despots and play their games of exploitation against them by poking holes into the loose spaces of their verbal demands.

She stepped none too gently on the gathered articles of clothing that she had tossed to the floor earlier, moving to lie as Dog sat to unlace the combat boots from his feet before carefully drawing the blankets up and around them both. She didn't turn away from him, but rather curled as close as she could, wrapping her arms around him as he enveloped her into a warm embrace and let his eyes shut out the world.

It didn't feel real, holding her like this. Days ago he would have never thought it possible, and it might not have been even now if Diablo hadn't come to him early, determined to relieve him of his station. Diablo seemed distracted, and bothered, and happy to spend time looking out over the long strip of road leading from the island toward the forests and mainland.

Discomfort was a steadily growing sentiment among all of them, but it was easy to ignore every bit of that and focus on her and only her. Her eyes swept down to his neck, to the angry bruising that still had not faded entirely from where Colton had curled his fingers around Dog's throat and tried to strangle the life from him, the flitter of anger swirling in her consciousness as she nuzzled nearer still.

"Everyone gets two days a month. The first and last day is for anyone. Those are his rules. So I'm going to suffer it however it makes sense to me..." Her voice was nearly a whisper, and she could feel him tensing with anger at the stipulations of the contract. She shared the thought.

His time would come; that much she was certain, but with careful planning and calculated precision, not in impulsive panic or impassioned whims with both of them desperately unprepared. She dared not travel the paths of her darkest fantasies, not right now. And she would not allow him to dwell on thoughts of revenge.

Dove tilted her head, a hand shifting to gently cup his cheek as she leaned in, and let her soft lips tease with fond simplicity against his. She stole the darkness from that moment with that single effortless, tender act... and pressed another silken kiss to his lips, and another. There wasn't a moment of hesitation from him; not a second of timidity or fear. His heart swelled eagerly, and he drew the hand up to cradle the back of her head as she entrusted precious tokens of affection against his lips.

"Today is for you..." There was nothing short of fondness and true desire long overdue in those words as she whispered them to him. She had come to regret every moment she had shied away from him and withdrew, clinging to the ghost of a memory of her life, long before the coast and the virus. She couldn't go back and fix that now, but she didn't doubt for a second that she could ease the bitterness of wounds that lingered on both of their minds at the hands of their antagonistic leader.

She didn't let Dog dwell on it. She knew that pain, and fear, and how corrupting it could be... any moment of lingering too long and they'd both be etching out plans of how they meant to destroy the younger Callaghan, and that was not what she wanted right now, no... her mocha eyes slipped closed as she pressed another deliciously sweet kiss upon the full lips of the younger male and felt him all but melt to her touch. He needed no further invitation. He was moving with delicate focus to guide her back amongst the pillows strewn in disarray around the bed.

Not once had he drawn his lips away from hers. He didn't let his hands stray, but rather allowed Charlie to guide, the days of longing and suffering all seeming to pale by comparison of her hands sweeping down his chest to push the thick material of cold-weather clothing up, seeking the warmth of his skin beneath her fingertips. Dog wasted no time in complying, rising over her to draw the material up and away. He looked down on her with newfound affection, in awe of her beauty and the strength she held, even in the face of adversary and injustice. She rose to her elbows, and followed suit, drawing the thin material of the low cut white blouse up over her arms and head to discard it with no true concern, and he sought her lips again with enamored passion.

Her arms entwined around his neck to draw him close again, his thin digits teasing against her sides and beneath the fullness of her breasts, painting kisses against her jaw and neck as she breathed a soft, airy sigh and curled her fingers into his air. Oh, he'd kiss every silken inch of her if she let him, and he meant to do exactly that. The discoloration of roughness that had once been there had faded just as quickly to nothing once more, and as he painted her collar and chest in tender kisses, he reveled in the feeling of her slim fingers stroking back through the wild mess of his long, dark locks.

He paid such delicate attention to those magnificently full globes, teasing her tender brown nipples with his teeth and lips before massaging them gently as his lips traveled down further still, over the smoothness of her stomach and the prominence of her ribs, and at that she giggled fitfully and his eyes were tempted up to watch the whimsical glow of mirth that accompanied her ticklish nature. His hands had shifted to her jeans, to tease against the button there, asking wordless permission granted by a flash of that gorgeous smile over her lips and a subtle nod, her hips rising ever so slightly as he tugged the material of that and her panties down her toned legs.

She had always been soft, but not quite like this. The light speckling of fine hairs was gone, replaced instead with effortlessly smooth skin, from her ankles to the thickness of her thighs and beyond. It did not deter his lips from their task. He kissed her hips, the smooth, hairless mound of her feminine mons, and the silken softness of her thighs and down to her calves. He settled on his knees as he observed that expression of fond endearment she stared at him with now.

Dog exercised certain restraint, learned perhaps from several instances of pressing and disregarding boundaries and the constraints of societal norms he knew nothing about many times prior. This time, she wasn't shoving him away. She had not once demanded him to stop, or tried to push for space, even as he took one delicate foot in his hands and gently rubbed the tension from her smooth soles and adorable toes. She shifted up ever so slightly onto her elbows again, and tilted her head, the luxuriant waves of her long, dark hair curling around her shoulders with their own otherworldly appeal.

"Why am I the only one naked?" she teased him, answered with a soft flush upon his pale features and a sheepish grin.

She slowly drew back to allow him to undo the belt holding the distressed, dark jeans at his hips. Dog eased the material down and away, and crawled over her once again, her hands rising once more to brush against the ripples of scars along his back as the younger man shifted delicately between her thighs and closed the space between them. She felt heavenly. He could barely describe her nubile, bare form beneath him as anything but that, the way she cradled him close, and pressed her lips tenderly against his throat.

It should have always been this way... Her mind shoved the fragmented nightmare of their first time together to the depths of her consciousness and buried it deeply there, where it belonged. She reveled in this patient and far more loving display, holding no ill will against his earlier inexperience and impatience. She hadn't known then the extent of just how prurient and impulsive tendencies seemed heightened in her presence. That was now something she had seen firsthand and felt, without a doubt, played a significant role in how the men of this group seemed to unravel by the day in her presence.

He was mindful as he rested his thin frame against her, his eyes lulling closed with each mesmeric press of her mouth against his slim throat and chest. Her body arched beneath him. The essence of venereal yearning only amplified the longer she allowed herself fervent desire, craving nothing short of control and eager consent for at least one singular instance before she was compelled to hold to her end of the arrangement. She reached down between them, her small digits encircling the base of his growing erection, and for the first time she ever recalled she felt the slightest shift of hesitance. A surfacing of doubt had stalled him, his eyes expressive and searching.

Was this what she wanted, truly? ... Or was she playing to the contract even now? That inkling of doubt had very nearly inspired Daniel to pull away from her and insist they do nothing more than they ever had; embracing one another for comfort and solace no place in the world seemed to be able to offer.

"Don't think about it," her breathy purr reverberated against his skin, and stole his focus completely, wiping that moment of concern and uncertainty clear from his mind. She guided the long length of his arousal against the plump lips of her outer labia, throbbing and eager between her fingers. The beading wetness at the tip met with the hot warmth of her waiting sex, practically drenched with her desire. "This is what I want... Danny. I haven't wanted anything this badly... not in a very long time."

His restraint evaporated, his knees bracing against the firmness of the mattress beneath as he claimed her intoxicating lips and penetrated her with focused restraint, the pleasant purr welling in her throat caught between the lip lock as she deepened the kiss and locked her slim arms around his neck. The grip of her body, even with ample lubrication, was almost overwhelming. He hadn't managed to press even half of the length of that demanding shaft inside before he had to stop, and drew back to take several deep breaths. Dog was trying desperately not to lose control of himself to how sinfully tight her body felt around him.