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bewiiitched · 3 months ago

Text

» Sex doll (chapter 3)

Author's note: Writing this hurts physically. Both of them are unhinged animals. Also, let me now if you want me to tag you! <3

WARNINGS: RAPE. +18, MDI. Gore (kinda), powers as drugs, torture, blood, violence, P in V, fingering, angst, dub-con, everything seems fixed until is not.

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She still fiddles with the syringe in her hand under the gaze of the mutant who doesn't bother to move. — You know, I thought that the whole tough guy act would last only in bed.

As expected, he doesn't appreciate her observation.

Logan decides he's had enough and grabs the hand that had the syringe, and she purposely drops it, pushing off and sending her leg against his chest, keeping him in place as her foot goes up to his throat and she is leaning herself against the front seat, gaining some distance. The silver glow catches the mutant's attention and she stabs his thigh, without flinching.

His claws return so she withdraws her foot in time before he can grab it. He catches her intention as he leans forward looking to grab her but intercepts the mutant's arm, grabbing his wrist and her legs take center stage, trying to get up, tries to get to the front seats and her fingers enter the wound on his thigh viciously.

There is no curse that can express his anger and his nostrils flare at the pain. She realizes that his nerves are still sensitive, but she digs them deeper, feeling the warm blood in her hand. At the same time, she kicks him with all her strength in the face, the crack of his nose makes her shudder and she manages to free her arm from his grip, so she pushes herself between the seats, her heartbeat echoing in her ears as she manages to open the door, with a grimace of pain she crawls trying to get out of the car but Logan's hand on her ankle stops her.

— Let me go!

She exclaims, and inside her anxiety eats away at the idea that he doesn't kill her. Because everything has gone so fucking wrong and neither pleasure nor pain seems to contain it so if she had to go back to the damn complex and confront Ajax, she would be sent to Wade as a damn toy to be disposed of. The decision of her superiors weighs on her and her stomach twists at the thought of having to repeat the situation if it was decided that she was not strong enough to take him down herself. The only viable option seems to be to escape from both of them. It was gonna be fun when they found out that she had deserted.

A gasp escapes her lips as she feels the tug on her leg and her hands grip the leather of the seats. She struggles, but it is obvious who has more strength and his hand closes on her thigh now that her bottom in the back of the car.

— Shit. — She curses, as her anxiety begins to transform into panic to escape, and she still struggles to avoid being dragged completely. Grabbing her hair his mouth sticks to her ear, and tears threaten to escape her eyes but she holds them back.

— I ain't playing, kid.

The seriousness in his tone makes her freak out and is there when she realizes she has crossed a line. Her hand grabs his, trying to free her hair but he hovers over her and wraps a hand around her waist, holding her in place.

— Let me go.

Her distress grows as his breath echoes in her ear. Her torso is still between the front seats, keeping her back hunched to ease the pull on her hair, the hand on her thigh traveling to her hip and his fingers curling, digging into her skin seeking to draw her to the back.

— Answer or I'm gonna rip off your fucking throat.

— Go fuck yourself.

Part of her hopes that if she pisses him off enough he’ll kill her. Which sounds a lot better than spending her life locked in a cell until Weapon X does it. Or Wade. If she even gets close to him in the first place.

— Is it the brotherhood?

— What? No. — she answers, sounding genuinely offended. She hated her powers, what she’d done with them. Why would she join a supremacist faction?

— You’re a mercenary?

A bitter laugh escapes her chest. — Do you think I’ve earned my pay, sweetheart?

She hears his exasperated sigh too close, and for a moment she thinks he’s pulling away, but his grip tightens on her hip. — Why did they send you?

If her joint was healing, she’d shrug. — Tests.

— Tests? Why the hell would they send you if not to kill me?

Sometimes she’s surprised by the secrecy the organization has achieved. If she knew what they were doing, would the X-men decide to get involved?

— If I tell you, would you kill me?

Logan seems to consider her question, and she snorts, rolling her eyes even though he can’t see her. It’s then that it all makes sense.

— You want me to kill you?

The hesitation and slowness with which he says it makes her laugh, and for a moment she forgets that she has one of the most dangerous mutants in the back of her vehicle half-undressed. And well, another one just a few meters away.

His grip softens, and she can see the hesitation in him. — Oh fuck you, are you going to play the hero? Send me to a special prison? You're wasting your time, Big boy, I'll die before I get into my cell.

There's venom in her voice when he confirms her fear, and her outburst is no different than the one that had him writhing on his knees, but, her fluids are out of his system. So there is no pain.

He can hear her breathing has relaxed but her heart still threatens to escape her chest. Is a surprise when his touch stops and she straightens up again with a grimace, everything hurts, and it seems ironic to her how with a power that can cause pain, she is the one who feels it the most.

He still looms over her. But it doesn't last long as Logan forces her to turn around, and this time she doesn't fight, there is a resigned look on her face that doesn't go away and his hand rests on her cheek.

— You had it planned from the beginning.

There is a hint of emotion, but if it is anger, disgust or mockery, she can't tell. It is not, until she looks at him, after fighting her own feelings that she realizes it is pity. — You could have knocked me out.

— Have you seen me well?

Maybe she would have succeeded, but she knew from the moment she had used her powers on herself, that the battle had taken another turn.

— Weapon X.

She says finally. And Logan's expression is sinister as he looks at her, his gentleness disappears when his hand squeezes her neck and by inertia she grabs his wrist.

— Weapon plus?

He asks, and despite the situation, she tilts her head in bewilderment. His gaze searches her eyes for any hint of a lie, any familiarity with the name, but ends up accepting that she doesn't know it.

— Speak. I want details, sweetheart.

The mocking tone in the nickname doesn't hide the threat. And she can see that she doesn't need to piss him off to get him to kill her.

— They're using your DNA to create new mutants. — She says, not bothering to sweeten her tone and she can see his gaze burning on her. — There's one in particular that's causing problems and they need to keep him under control.

He takes her time to weigh the information and his expression shows no emotion, part of her is curious about what he's thinking.

But It quickly disappears when he looks back at her with a disdainful look and his grip on her neck tightens, there's a low moan as she tries to pull away, her feet moving trying to push him, but he stops her by using his free hand to pull her closer and stays between her legs.

His gaze is impassive and she can see the resentment in his expression, it was not foreign to how he had labeled her in his mind. — Logan...

She moans, in a plea, her voice is hoarse from the pressure and her nails dig into his wrist as everything around her seems to spin. A part of her burns because she cares, because she still has hope to escape all the shit she's brought upon herself and no one seems to let her do it.

Tears slide down her cheeks and her breath struggles, her body going limp against the seats as her eyes barely register him, everything blurring when he suddenly lets go.

She inhales sharply, leaning over at the stabbing pain in her lungs. She flinches when she feels his touch and his arms wrap around her, trying to lift her up. There's a sigh from him, and she shivers, barely managing to stay conscious. — Why…?

She murmurs, and rests her head against his chest as he slumps down onto the backseat with her on his lap. — You reek of regret, sweetheart.

(...)

When she wakes up again, she sits up suddenly as she realizes she doesn't know the place. Her heart flutters in her chest and she tries to piece together the fragments of the day before. But the wounds on her body make her remember easily.

She tries to get up from the bed she's in and inspects the room. Logan is the last thing she remembers and it's not comforting. There is a window and she doesn't waste any time in approaching it, but it is when she sees herself in the reflection that she notices the necklace on her neck and everything around her shakes.

She freezes halfway, but sees that wherever she is, is surrounded by trees. The door opens and she steps back instinctively, grabbing the lamp on the nightstand. Her labored breathing makes her grip tighten.

— Easy.

She keeps her teeth clenched and it becomes painful to grab the lamp, if she could use her powers, it would have already broken. He is dressed in a white sleeveless shirt and baggy jeans, with no wounds in sight. He waits for her to speak, but when she doesn't, Logan leans against the door frame watching her lose her temper inside her mind.

— Where the fuck did you bring me?

Her voice is still hoarse and the marks on her neck are less visible, but they remain. It makes him think of a cornered animal, not that he can blame her when she was already one inside the car and there she kept her powers.

— A cabin.

He answers simply and watches as she puts the lamp back in its place. His sigh is shaky as he crosses his arms over his chest and closes the door behind. The necklace is indicative of the situation and it terrifies her.

— What's the plan?

His lack of response only confirms it. A damn cell. She could laugh if her throat wasn't raw. — Let me go. You won't see me again.

— No.

He growls, and comes closer. It's not his decision. But it doesn't make her feel better. His brow furrows as he watches her back away and there's desperation in her eyes. — I can tell you everything, give you the damn location, just let me go.

His lips turn into a line, the team was already in charge of gathering information and it didn't take long for them to discover that the problematic mutant was called Deadpool. So she didn't have too many cards to play.

He hadn't been long in learning that at the time, the mercenary was in charge of hunting down anyone involved with the project. But he keeps that information to himself. A consensus had been reached, and it had been decided that the best option was to keep her under surveillance until she could be moved. And Logan's resistance to her power had made it clear that he would be in charge of supervising her.

She ends up giving in and lets herself fall on the bed, her gaze is lost as she seems to meditate on the situation and out of the corner of her eye she sees him leave the room.

/////

Night has come when she decides it's time to leave the bedroom, and a part of her is relived that the door is not closed. Toss and turn, she had rolled in bed trying to fall asleep but had woken up late in the afternoon and assumed that her body had had enough with 12 hours of sleep.

Not that she agreed.

She grimaces as she notices that everything is silent. With her abilities repressed she finds it difficult to adjust to the fact that her senses are those of a normal human and that makes her more alert. The hallway is dark and she notices that the cabin is small, instinctively her gaze focuses on the front door, but at best it would be locked.

And she had already taken too many risks when she had her powers.

Her feet move on their own when she hears him. — Are you going somewhere?

His tone leaves no room for jokes, and when she turns her face partially to look at him, she sees him standing behind her. His hair is strangely disheveled and his shirt is wrinkled. But there is no trace of drowsiness in his voice. She knows what he thinks and sees no point in denying it, but that doesn't stop her from raising her hands in a harmless gesture. — Where's the kitchen?

His brow furrows even more which makes her wonder if he has ever stopped looking permanently annoyed. She notices as he approaches a few steps, that he is assessing the situation.

The walk to the kitchen is silent, and she can swear that the mutant's gaze is fixed on her. The hairs on her neck stand up at the thought. Or maybe she is paranoid. Neither option is very reassuring.

She hears the click of the switch and the light turns on. She tries to hide the fact that her eyes are searching for the nearest sharp weapon and she jumps slightly when she feels the brush of his shirt against her back. Walking past her she sees him go to a piece of furniture and take out a bottle of whiskey.

His expression is serious and for a moment she wonders if her powers have left any after-effects. She swallows, noticing the dryness of her throat and searches through the cupboards until she finds a glass and then goes to the fridge and fills it with water.

She takes a small sip and in the background she hears the movement of the bottle. Her world slows down as she tries to find a solution, she does not want to act on impulse although a part of her sees no other option. The fatigue that had plagued her during the fight was gone, but her injuries weren't. And then there were her non-existent powers.

It was going to be fun.

She catches a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye, and the situation falls apart. His fucking senses.

She lunges for the damn door as she lets the glass crash against the kitchen counter, it shatters, and though she cuts herself, she manages to grab a piece in her hand. She puts it in her pocket, her nails digging into her palm, trying to stop the wound from closing.

She hasn't even gotten halfway there when his arm closes around her forearm. This time she doesn't kick him, she lets him pull her close, grabs his wrist, and twists hers the other way, managing to get away when now she's the one who grabs him, tries to bend his arm but Logan grabs her neck.

She doesn't give in, she lifts her leg and throws it over his shoulder, his grip loses strength and she pushes herself off, hooking both legs and falls on her back,

dragging him with her. The sharp pain in her lower back makes her curse. He grunts and tries to pull away but she grabs his wrist and twists it.

She's on her side but she tries to get him to turn his back, and turns her hip to the opposite side. Claws clack and her grip tightens.

He's not trying to kill her but that doesn't mean he's going to be gentle. His claws dig into her thigh up to his knuckles. The scream tears through her throat but her grip doesn't let up despite the gushes of blood that come out, he pulls them back as she sobs in pain, her jaw aching from the force with which her teeth clench. Despite the burning in her muscles, she fights back out of pure rage, and frees her injured leg to kick him, the sole of her foot connecting with his cheekbone and his head snapping back.

— Bitch.

He growls, and the irritation is turning into something more. She pushes herself up, sitting and still holding him when It pulls out the piece of glass, stabbing him in the throat over and over again with animal rage, growls coming out of her mouth until his hand closes on her wrist.

She doesn't give a shit about her powers, the necklace, Ajax and the project when what's in front of her is the impediment to her escape.

She feels the pressure and knows that the bastard is trying to break her join. The grip on his shoulder is stronger than ever because the blood that stains them could make her lose her technique. She decides to make the pain serve a purpose but Logan manages to make her drop the glass.

— Stop it already.

There's an angry tone in his voice, and she knows that is taking him effort not to kill her. Still she doesn't respond. Instead, she uses her free hand to dig her nails into the wound on his neck, managing to sink two fingers into his flesh that twists in circles. She feels him squirm and lets go of her wrist. The whole area tingles and there is a sharp pain but that doesn't stop him from closing his fist and punching her in the stomach and Logan rolls over while the hand she had previously grabbed rests against the ground.

Trying to get up, the glass is lost and he manages to lift them both by grabbing her throat with his still trapped arm.

The murder attempt is a two-person affair, and he pushes her against the fridge door, trying to get free. She moans at the second blow to her back, but then she realizes that her collar has loosened, a wave of euphoria runs through, she frees him from the grip of her legs when a fist goes her way, managing to stop him by grabbing his arm and pushes herself again, bending her legs and kicking his hip causing him to move away slightly.

With her throat free from his hand and soon from the collar. Both are panting for different reasons, and she lunges at him raising her fist but he dodges it, grabs her and throws her towards the cabinets where her neck hits the edge of one.

there is a sound that makes them shudder.

Click.

A painful laugh escapes her lips when she feels the tickle on her body. Blessed healing.

He doesn't share her joy. He lunges at her like a predator, claws out because now she is a danger and she tries to steps aside but his claws scratch at her side and she sinks her own fingers into the wound on her thigh staining them with blood.

Her other hand grabs his forearm, and her fingers slip into his mouth roughly, her teeth scratching her, her blood coming into contact with his saliva and he resists the urge to bite her fingers. Unexpected for the mutant but effective, she winks at him before making everything into pain.

His nerves throb and there is a sharp pain throughout his body. He no longer bleeds and the wound on his neck has healed but he remembers the pain on a loop. There is no sound that can escape his throat.

He is covered in her blood and his shirt is no longer white, the pain in her thigh makes the one in her shoulder seem silly and she knows that she will have to hurry if she wants to get into the forest.

She has learned her lesson and gives him no rest, she keeps him for minutes, the spasms make his knees finally give out and he falls.

Losing patience, she opens the drawers looking for the cutlery, when she finally finds it after opening four, she takes out a knife that she stabs into his throat.

The blood gurgles and he seems to choke, but it does not make her back down even though she wants to. She turns him, from one direction to another and begins to wonder if he can even go into shock when a drop of blood falls on the floor, one of many as she notices the crimson liquid coming out of her nose.

She shakes at the idea. That is not her damn limit.

Her concentration wanes, and although in general terms pain is the easiest thing that the body can solve ending in unconsciousness, it is also the most demanding, since she had to constantly force control on the nerves.

Different situation when it came to pleasure and other sensations.

— Damn you.

Logan raises his head, there is a trickle of blood in his mouth and she realizes that he has bitten the inside of himself, his cheeks or his tongue, it doesn't interest her. He spits out the blood and growls, the effort is evident on his face and there is a trace of sweat on his face. Suddenly, his breathing is labored as the pleasure takes its toll on him.

— Are you not going to faint?

She spits in frustration and a frown, digging her nails into his arm until they draw blood but his body shivers with pleasure. The hand that is not clinging to him travels to his face and kisses him, the pain returns and shakes him.

His breathing stops for a moment and she finally pulls away from his mouth, his eyes are closed but his body seems to bear it and she moans in irritation. She abruptly pushes him to the ground and positions herself over him, her fingers close on his jaw, and stops the pain but keeps her grip in warning.

— I don't want to hurt you. Just let me go. Please.

And there is a desperation that makes Logan look at her even when the whole room is blurry and he can barely focus on her despite the proximity, his mind is not clear and the only sound he manages to make is a growl while showing his teeth in threat. The tension in his body is brutal and he struggles to speak when the sharp pain in the muscles of his face draws a moan from him.

— No.

He sees her face turn to stone and Logan can almost mock when the pleasure shakes him. He looks at her stunned because that was not what he was expecting and his nostrils dilate when he feels her nails caress the wound he had previously stabbed. One after another without rest and everything in his body seems to tremble at her touch.

She kisses him again and it is almost intimate. She runs her hands under his wet shirt and feels his hair stand on end, when she leaves his mouth, she goes down to his neck and leaves a trail of kisses that makes his hands clench into his fists.

Despite his tension, he ignores her as her touch remains gentle. — Why not?

She whispers, and he sighs heavily trying to concentrate on the ceiling lamp. Her caresses go down to his arms and he swallows when he can feel the touch on his knuckles, he is tempted to take out his claws but his body does not respond.

— Logan.

The impatience in her gaze does not show in her voice. And he tenses when he feels her teeth on his earlobe in a soft bite. — I want a answer.

She murmurs and he realizes how consistent her power is in contrast to the fight in the car, her control does not waver. She notices that he is alert, and she doesn't blame him, knowing he is expecting the pain to come at any moment.

Her hand goes down to his hips, and rests on his thigh making small circular movements, her hips go back and she positions herself until their pelvises touch. She sees his gaze fixate on the area.

The pain greets him like an old friend. He jerks his head back and she herself grimaces in shock, the intensity has worsened because it is now constant, the damage she needs to inflict on him to beat his healing is almost impossible, so his nerves become more sensitive from the effort it takes to fight her power and heal at the same time.

She moves her hips on his but her body does not register the action until the rush of pleasure stops the pain. He is weakening, but it is not enough for her to escape safely. How long would it take to recover if she is not even unconscious?

— I am not going back there.

She continues trying to talk, and the only sign she has that he is listening to her is how his eyes move towards her, there is no muscle in his body that moves and this time it is not she who prevents him.

— Please. I just want to leave.

She murmurs, and he does not need his senses to know that she is telling the truth.

A part of him considers the idea of leaving her. She's not a monster, but they can make her act like one and his condition is the living image of that.

He's not sure how well protected she'll be when they lock her up and the collar closes permanently around her neck, but she seems certain that she'll die. The verbal fight in the car leaves a bad taste in his mouth when he remembers it.

But it's not his decision, and there's no way to hide it from Jean or the professor when they question what happened. He looks away and hears her growl in frustration, the discomfort returns to her when nothing seems to convince him and the pain blinds him again.

It doesn't last long, or maybe everything feels the same now. Both hands position themselves on either side of his mouth and she kisses him, the range of emotions is so wide that it disconcerts him, there's anger, fear, frustration but he also captures an iota of vulnerability that devours him.

And his hand, despite the tremors, reaches for her neck, attracting her. He notices that her touch is stronger on demand, and when they part, his nose rests against her neck, and he can sense doubt in her, not in her power, as she continues to press the pleasure into his body.

They are both fragile for different reasons, and it doesn't take long for him to understand that she wants to stop fighting, she keeps looking at him, waiting for him to pierce her or knock her out, to fight his instinct like she had seen him do in the car.

But he doesn't, and the next time she kisses him he doesn't resist. He still feels her latent power in his body, but there is no pleasure, no pain, no itch that incites him to come closer or move away. It's all him and his hands travel to her hips, he grabs a handful of flesh and startled she moves slightly, causing his pants to tighten when he brushes against her core.

For the first time, Logan catches desire in her gaze, and the spasms are a thing of the past, he pulls her roughly and digs his fingers into her flesh, moving down to her ass, her hand travels to his belt to unbutton it but before her hand lowers his zipper, she leans towards him with one hand on the button of his pants and the other directs her to his chin.

Her gaze questions him, seeking permission and he nods slightly, there is a hint of relief in her gaze and she wastes no time in nibbling on his neck, she feels him rub, and she lowers his underwear hastily, her own core throbbing.

He is faster when he removes one hand from her hip with the other keeping it pinned in place, and sneaks inside her shorts. He feels her panties and inserts two fingers into her hole, the stretch makes her shudder, but she is soaked so the burning does not last too long. She moans, and leans against his chest, her hips suspended in the air as his fingers work their way in and her nails dig in as his thumb brushes her clit.

She squirms, but his movements are relentless as he drags her to orgasm. — F-Fuck. Don’t stop.

She gasps, and moves her hips forward to get more friction, small moans escaping her lips and her hand traveling to his member. — Does it hurt?

She asks, but she’s not looking at him, her voice barely holding any strength as she catches her breath and her walls clench around his fingers, she feels him tense as her fingers wrap around his cock. A wave of pleasure runs through him and she hears him moan as the pain in his erection eases.

The sound is delicious.

His fingers leave her and he hears her moan, but he doesn’t give her a chance to complain as he pushes her pants down and moves her underwear to the side, lining up the tip against her entrance.

It's her turn to grunt, and she places both hands on his shoulders before dropping her hips completely. There's a moan in unison and she arches her back as she feels him fill her completely.

His fingers curl into her hair and he kisses her fiercely, yet her power takes a backseat. It doesn't take long for her to form a rhythm as she rides him, and there's no coherent sound coming out of her mouth, her own fingers tingling as she holds back her power. So her nails dig in.

She spreads her legs wider but he has another idea, and they both roll across the floor until he's on top. He pulls out of her, gripping her thighs before putting her legs over his shoulders and she winces at the dull ache in her leg, the blood is dry but she doesn't doubt there'll be a scar.

It's now he who looks at her questioningly, and she gives him a dirty smile. — Are you gonna fuck me like you fi—

The taunt dies in her throat when a scream escapes, and she wraps her arms around his neck for stability as he slams into her hips, her eyes widening at the new angle and her breathing coming in ragged gasps, he's buried balls deep.

His pace is animalistic, and the force of his thrusts keeps her busy while all she can do is take him. A wave of pleasure courses through her and she tenses, feeling his cock throbbing inside her but he's far from close, and he teases, attacking her clit, a shiver running through her and She clings to him. Her walls tightening from the impending orgasm.

— Logan.

She pants against his ear, and beyond the sound of their breaths, the watery sound of their intimacy takes center stage as he fucks her faster. It builds up, and the pull inside her tears her apart, the spasms causing him to loom over her more, until her knees are practically against her chest.

She looks up at him with watery eyes and shudders with pleasure, trying to recover from the orgasm but even fighting hadn't shown her mercy so he continues to attack her overstimulated clit.

— Too hard for you, sweetheart?

He teases, remembering her attempts to provoke him. And when she opens her mouth to fight back, he slips two fingers into her mouth. He catches her off guard, and she coughs lightly but her tongue wraps around them as she fills them with saliva without breaking eye contact.

She sees a hint of satisfaction in the mutant.

His throaty small laugh fills her ears, and her desire grows, she goes to get revenge, but she puts it off when she feels him lift her shirt and bra, capturing her right nipple in his mouth, arching her back into him as her hand grips the back of his neck.

The pleasure has her spinning, and it takes a little effort to focus as another orgasm threatens her, she pulls away from his mouth, and he looks at her catching a shift. She gives it back to him, pain and pleasure as she lets him fuck her. And she fights her own as she sends a rush of pain that lingers, she draws it out with so much effort that her head throbs, and her nose bleeds again.

She pushes herself up and his cock slips out of her. She lets go of his neck and grabs his arm. His weight gives way and he falls on top of her, she grimaces.

— I’m sorry.

Is all she says and her voice breaks, and she cringes slightly, there are tears forming in her eyes as she looks up at the ceiling light, still pushing her power until they’re both on the verge of passing out.

She can't make him pass out, but he's on his way to unconsciousness and she rushes to get him off of her. The adamantium skeleton makes it difficult. Moving him seems impossible but she manages to get out from under him and as soon as he stops touching her, she starts a race against time to the door, throws it open and runs despite the pain.

She pulls down her shirt and rearranges her pants without stopping moving, part of her is tempted to use her powers to mitigate her pain, but she rejects the idea and forces her legs until her muscles ache and her chest burns.

It takes her what seems like hours to reach the damn road, and she wants to stop, damn it, she's sure that if she stops the tiredness will not let her wake up again, but the fear of him reaching her makes her paranoid about any noise.

She follows the road without stopping, and she can feel the lights of a car behind her but she doesn't stop until the driver brakes a few meters ahead. He must look awful, because the middle-aged man who steps out of the vehicle has lost color in his face.

— Please! — She screams, real panic in her voice. — I need help.

Desperation seeping into her voice. He looks at her and nods dazedly, stepping inside and practically lunges for the door, climbing inside.

— What happe-

His neck snaps and she shakes but tries not to fall apart and drags him into the passenger seat, swapping places as she slams on the gas.

Freedom hits her, and she just hopes it lasts.

////////////

Tags: @bontensbabygirl

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