Cayenne 13, Mocha 9, CCM 14
Author: Casey
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy (NIEE) universe, during NIEE (synopsis and directory now up)
Challenge, Toppings, Extras: Cayenne 13 (wrestling/grappling), Mocha 9 (look, but don’t touch), CCM 14 (uncomfortable), Cherry (I haven’t really written first person in…probably close to 5 years)
Word Count: 865
Rating: PG to PG-13 (some mildly graphic violence)
Summary: Jez meets Colonel Rees for the first time and more than words are exchanged.
Notes: Told in first person, from Jez’s POV. I do love the mystery man (Rees), despite this and other later events.
At the sound of footsteps, I glanced at David who was keeping watch. “There’s a guard with food and then,” - his eyes widened - “those three guys from yesterday!” Jay and I looked at each other before I stood, watching the short man open the door.
“Your turn,” Shortie sneered. I stared back without comment and, after a second, he looked away, gesturing to the thugs. I slid by them, shrugging out of their grasp. As I did, I dug deep into my memories and pulled out the haughty walk I had perfected way back when I was living with the duke, over three years ago. I stalked up to the short man and crossed my arms, smirking. Shortie looked surprised, frowning at me. Finally he shrugged. “Have it your own way then,” he said and led us down the hall, Jay’s quiet chuckle echoing after us. After a short walk, we reached a small windowless room with just one door. The thugs grabbed my shoulders and spun me back around to face the door as another man entered, nodding the short one on his way. I eyed him warily, knowing this had to be the man in charge, as I favored him with my best blank stare.
“I know that type of walk well,” he started without preamble, “and it seems ill suited to a person in your position. Now, let’s see if you aren’t more cooperative than your friend. What’s your name?” he snapped.
“Jack,” I replied blandly, thinking of Reardon.
“And where did you learn to walk like that?”
“The same place I learned to walk at all,” I shot back.
He sighed, greatly exaggerating it. “Must you be difficult as well?” He tilted his head. “Although I do suppose you answered my second question quite truthfully, just not the way I’d meant it, which, and in of itself, is very interesting indeed.” I didn’t like the knowing look on his face at all and I had to force away the first feelings of nervousness. “Get her out of her shirt,” he ordered casually and studied me as the brutes did as ordered.
I glowered back, struggling to make things as difficult for the two larger men as possible. As it came off, I felt a surge of anger. The scars that marked my chest were deeply vivid and almost constant reminders of a past I’d been forced to leave behind and forget, because of people like the man standing in front of me.
“Well, well, I was right. There is indeed more to you. Much, much more, I would guess. So,” he drawled, “what happened to you?”
As he spoke, he reached forward and I jerked out of reach, colliding with the large man behind me. “Don’t touch them if you value your life,” I growled. No one, not even Bri, had ever touched my scars and I wasn’t about to let him be the first one, at least not without a fight.
He laughed. “I don’t think you are in any position to carry out a threat like that.”
“You really do not want to test that theory,” I warned him.
“I’ll take my chances,” he replied, amused, completely ignoring my anger - and, I’ll admit it, humiliation - and reached forward again. I pressed back against the thug holding me, watching his hand creep closer, then something in me snapped. My vision and brain cleared a few moments later, and I discovered that I had my hands around the leader’s throat, sitting on top of him, banging his head into the concrete floor. I could hear him screaming for the guards and I paused, more than a bit unnerved by my action. He brought his knees in and threw me off him. I rolled to take some of the sting out of hitting the hard floor. “Get her!” he yelled, scrambling up and away from me. The guards caught me under the arms and slammed me into the wall. Before I could recover, the two threw me across the hallway. I hit the ground and skidded a few feet, wincing in pain, already feeling the burn from the scrapes on my bare skin. New scars. Joy. I took the moment to try and figure out what had happened, eyeing the debris littering the hall. Somehow the two of us had slammed the door back open with enough force to splinter the area surrounding the knob. I mentally whistled in surprise before the guards reached me and jerked me back to my feet, twisting my arm back behind me, pinning me in place unless I wanted to snap my own limb.
My victim got back to his feet, apparently satisfied that I was under control now. The man was bleeding from somewhere on his head, as he stared at me with undisguised surprise and curiosity. “Remind me to try a less painful way to get that particular fact out of you in the future,” he told me before, without any sort of warning, planted his fist deep into my stomach. I coughed, trying to regain my breath, as the guard pulled me back upright. “You are going to pay for that. Painfully.”
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy (NIEE) universe, during NIEE (synopsis and directory now up)
Challenge, Toppings, Extras: Cayenne 13 (wrestling/grappling), Mocha 9 (look, but don’t touch), CCM 14 (uncomfortable), Cherry (I haven’t really written first person in…probably close to 5 years)
Word Count: 865
Rating: PG to PG-13 (some mildly graphic violence)
Summary: Jez meets Colonel Rees for the first time and more than words are exchanged.
Notes: Told in first person, from Jez’s POV. I do love the mystery man (Rees), despite this and other later events.
At the sound of footsteps, I glanced at David who was keeping watch. “There’s a guard with food and then,” - his eyes widened - “those three guys from yesterday!” Jay and I looked at each other before I stood, watching the short man open the door.
“Your turn,” Shortie sneered. I stared back without comment and, after a second, he looked away, gesturing to the thugs. I slid by them, shrugging out of their grasp. As I did, I dug deep into my memories and pulled out the haughty walk I had perfected way back when I was living with the duke, over three years ago. I stalked up to the short man and crossed my arms, smirking. Shortie looked surprised, frowning at me. Finally he shrugged. “Have it your own way then,” he said and led us down the hall, Jay’s quiet chuckle echoing after us. After a short walk, we reached a small windowless room with just one door. The thugs grabbed my shoulders and spun me back around to face the door as another man entered, nodding the short one on his way. I eyed him warily, knowing this had to be the man in charge, as I favored him with my best blank stare.
“I know that type of walk well,” he started without preamble, “and it seems ill suited to a person in your position. Now, let’s see if you aren’t more cooperative than your friend. What’s your name?” he snapped.
“Jack,” I replied blandly, thinking of Reardon.
“And where did you learn to walk like that?”
“The same place I learned to walk at all,” I shot back.
He sighed, greatly exaggerating it. “Must you be difficult as well?” He tilted his head. “Although I do suppose you answered my second question quite truthfully, just not the way I’d meant it, which, and in of itself, is very interesting indeed.” I didn’t like the knowing look on his face at all and I had to force away the first feelings of nervousness. “Get her out of her shirt,” he ordered casually and studied me as the brutes did as ordered.
I glowered back, struggling to make things as difficult for the two larger men as possible. As it came off, I felt a surge of anger. The scars that marked my chest were deeply vivid and almost constant reminders of a past I’d been forced to leave behind and forget, because of people like the man standing in front of me.
“Well, well, I was right. There is indeed more to you. Much, much more, I would guess. So,” he drawled, “what happened to you?”
As he spoke, he reached forward and I jerked out of reach, colliding with the large man behind me. “Don’t touch them if you value your life,” I growled. No one, not even Bri, had ever touched my scars and I wasn’t about to let him be the first one, at least not without a fight.
He laughed. “I don’t think you are in any position to carry out a threat like that.”
“You really do not want to test that theory,” I warned him.
“I’ll take my chances,” he replied, amused, completely ignoring my anger - and, I’ll admit it, humiliation - and reached forward again. I pressed back against the thug holding me, watching his hand creep closer, then something in me snapped. My vision and brain cleared a few moments later, and I discovered that I had my hands around the leader’s throat, sitting on top of him, banging his head into the concrete floor. I could hear him screaming for the guards and I paused, more than a bit unnerved by my action. He brought his knees in and threw me off him. I rolled to take some of the sting out of hitting the hard floor. “Get her!” he yelled, scrambling up and away from me. The guards caught me under the arms and slammed me into the wall. Before I could recover, the two threw me across the hallway. I hit the ground and skidded a few feet, wincing in pain, already feeling the burn from the scrapes on my bare skin. New scars. Joy. I took the moment to try and figure out what had happened, eyeing the debris littering the hall. Somehow the two of us had slammed the door back open with enough force to splinter the area surrounding the knob. I mentally whistled in surprise before the guards reached me and jerked me back to my feet, twisting my arm back behind me, pinning me in place unless I wanted to snap my own limb.
My victim got back to his feet, apparently satisfied that I was under control now. The man was bleeding from somewhere on his head, as he stared at me with undisguised surprise and curiosity. “Remind me to try a less painful way to get that particular fact out of you in the future,” he told me before, without any sort of warning, planted his fist deep into my stomach. I coughed, trying to regain my breath, as the guard pulled me back upright. “You are going to pay for that. Painfully.”