cartoon or something.”
“Oh! So you’re ready for more then?”
“I’m going to have to be if I’m going to understand what happened Friday night.”
This is the first she’s mentioned the attack. I need to know what happened when I was unconscious. I stop, my gaze pinning her where she stands. “Tell me,” is all I can manage to say.
Tears fill her eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“It isn’t nothing. Your arms, clothes, were filled with blood and there was barely a scratch on you. What happened? And don’t tell me nothing.”
She stares at the mat.
“You fought back, didn’t you? You hurt them?”
She nods. “I was so scared,” she whispers. “When the guy climbed on me. Tore at my clothing.”
The words set my rage on fire. I didn’t know what they almost did. Didn’t know…
“Whatever,” she says as she shakes away the demons I know she must see in her thoughts. “Let’s just step things up, okay?” She clenches her jaw, balling her hands into fists by her side. I watch the emotions drain from her expression as she becomes the Sentinal she was trained to be. “Don’t go easy on me this time.”
“I won’t,” I say, still angry over the violence I know she endured.
I walk behind her and she assumes a solid stance. Time slows to a halt. And I wait.
Wait.
The air crawls with electricity as I feel her trying to anticipate the attack. Finally, I pounce, pulling her arms behind her, immobilizing her with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. She squirms underneath my hold. Every moment of resistance awakens the part of me I hate. My neck grows hot and I know my marks are flaming to life again. I ignore the feelings flowing through me and focus on her, pulling her arms ever tighter.
“Fight back, baby. Fight back.” The words come out as nothing more than a whisper. She gives into my hold. Her movements slow and I know I can do what I want with her.
Resisting instincts that should no longer exist, I spin her around, her arms still bound in mine. She locks eyes with me, the color draining from her face. A tear slithers down her cheek. For a moment I am stunned. She looks so broken, so afraid—nothing like the warrior I know her to be.
Nothing like my Nesy.
My heart beats once...twice...as we remain locked in this moment. My thoughts war. Part of me needs to protect her; part of me wants something else.
Something vile. Wrong.
I swallow hard.
And everything changes.
Nessa’s face grows hard, her gaze, icy. She pulls her arms from my loosened grasp. The fear once etched on her face turns to rage. She strikes me, the blow landing on my arm as I block my face. A tremor vibrates through me and another blow greets the block.
Within a moment, blows and kicks unleash at a dizzying pace. She strikes my arms, my side, my legs. Kicks, blows, punches. Her fury can’t be contained as she pummels me over and over.
I block the attack, absorbing the anger in every move. I take a step back, then another. She has me against the ropes. There’s no escaping her rage—one caused by me. Again. Blow after blow, kick and kick, I feel every ounce of her anguish. And although I am not sure how much more I can take, one thing is certain…
Nessa fights like a warrior.
The endless blows continue as I wiggle out of her assault. “Nessa, stop. You’ve proven your point.”
She gives no response save the constant barrage of more punches.
“Nessa! Stop!”
Her fist connects with my jaw, sending me spinning back into the ropes. I turn and duck, avoiding the next assault. “Nessa!”
Nothing comes from her—no words, no mercy.
Nothing except a palpable anguish unlike anything I’ve felt. Her eyes are aflame, focused on one thing.
Injuring me.
Maybe even killing me.
I can’t slow her assault. My skin bends, absorbing a hatred I’ve never felt from her. Bruises already form as she pounds my body. A strong kick lands in my gut. Another to my ribs. My breathing grows shallow as the
“Oh! So you’re ready for more then?”
“I’m going to have to be if I’m going to understand what happened Friday night.”
This is the first she’s mentioned the attack. I need to know what happened when I was unconscious. I stop, my gaze pinning her where she stands. “Tell me,” is all I can manage to say.
Tears fill her eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“It isn’t nothing. Your arms, clothes, were filled with blood and there was barely a scratch on you. What happened? And don’t tell me nothing.”
She stares at the mat.
“You fought back, didn’t you? You hurt them?”
She nods. “I was so scared,” she whispers. “When the guy climbed on me. Tore at my clothing.”
The words set my rage on fire. I didn’t know what they almost did. Didn’t know…
“Whatever,” she says as she shakes away the demons I know she must see in her thoughts. “Let’s just step things up, okay?” She clenches her jaw, balling her hands into fists by her side. I watch the emotions drain from her expression as she becomes the Sentinal she was trained to be. “Don’t go easy on me this time.”
“I won’t,” I say, still angry over the violence I know she endured.
I walk behind her and she assumes a solid stance. Time slows to a halt. And I wait.
Wait.
The air crawls with electricity as I feel her trying to anticipate the attack. Finally, I pounce, pulling her arms behind her, immobilizing her with one hand and covering her mouth with the other. She squirms underneath my hold. Every moment of resistance awakens the part of me I hate. My neck grows hot and I know my marks are flaming to life again. I ignore the feelings flowing through me and focus on her, pulling her arms ever tighter.
“Fight back, baby. Fight back.” The words come out as nothing more than a whisper. She gives into my hold. Her movements slow and I know I can do what I want with her.
Resisting instincts that should no longer exist, I spin her around, her arms still bound in mine. She locks eyes with me, the color draining from her face. A tear slithers down her cheek. For a moment I am stunned. She looks so broken, so afraid—nothing like the warrior I know her to be.
Nothing like my Nesy.
My heart beats once...twice...as we remain locked in this moment. My thoughts war. Part of me needs to protect her; part of me wants something else.
Something vile. Wrong.
I swallow hard.
And everything changes.
Nessa’s face grows hard, her gaze, icy. She pulls her arms from my loosened grasp. The fear once etched on her face turns to rage. She strikes me, the blow landing on my arm as I block my face. A tremor vibrates through me and another blow greets the block.
Within a moment, blows and kicks unleash at a dizzying pace. She strikes my arms, my side, my legs. Kicks, blows, punches. Her fury can’t be contained as she pummels me over and over.
I block the attack, absorbing the anger in every move. I take a step back, then another. She has me against the ropes. There’s no escaping her rage—one caused by me. Again. Blow after blow, kick and kick, I feel every ounce of her anguish. And although I am not sure how much more I can take, one thing is certain…
Nessa fights like a warrior.
The endless blows continue as I wiggle out of her assault. “Nessa, stop. You’ve proven your point.”
She gives no response save the constant barrage of more punches.
“Nessa! Stop!”
Her fist connects with my jaw, sending me spinning back into the ropes. I turn and duck, avoiding the next assault. “Nessa!”
Nothing comes from her—no words, no mercy.
Nothing except a palpable anguish unlike anything I’ve felt. Her eyes are aflame, focused on one thing.
Injuring me.
Maybe even killing me.
I can’t slow her assault. My skin bends, absorbing a hatred I’ve never felt from her. Bruises already form as she pounds my body. A strong kick lands in my gut. Another to my ribs. My breathing grows shallow as the
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