“Why? You really haven’t put it together, girl? And here I thought you were so bright.” Charles sighed, “I couldn’t risk you recognizing me. I couldn’t risk you remembering that I used to fuck your mother, and I couldn’t risk you remembering any of those little stories she used to tell you.”
He stood up and she stepped back as he stalked forward.
“And I couldn’t risk you twisting Bryant’s mind when I’d spent so many years twisting it for my own benefit.” He glanced over at him, and she did too. Had his arm moved? “Not that it mattered in the end. Someone must have got to him years ago.”
“Bryant would have never followed you, or the COF.” Phee hissed the words out as he pointed the gun at her again to halt her retreat.
“That shows how little you know, Ophelia.” He closed the gap between them and she swallowed the whimper as his fingers slid the bra strap off her shoulder. “Just amazing… just like your mother. I wonder if you’ll fight me like she did?”
Those words snapped something inside her, and the fire that had been building inside her since she had met the resistance, since she had seen Bryant’s true self, blazed into an inferno. She felt it engulf her and she shoved him away from her. He immediately slammed the gun into the side of her head, but when she hit the floor she kicked out at his leg. It wasn’t exactly a good hit, but it brought him to his knee anyway. This time when she kicked, she aimed better, and she caught the wrist he had the gun in and it went flying. He lunged for her and she turned to scramble away, but he caught her legs as she crawled forward.
“That’s it, make me work for it.” His words sent a chill up her spine and she reached out for Bryant, a futile scream of frustration aching to break free from her chest. She kicked at Charles again, and was able to get one foot free to land a hit on his shoulder. It propelled her away from him a little and she crawled towards Bryant. Charles laughed as he caught her ankle and stopped her, “He can’t save you, Ophelia.”
He flipped her over and started to move up her body, but she was a blazing fire, a righteous inferno, her mother’s name was a tattoo of molten gold over her heart, and in her hand she had Bryant’s gun. She pointed it at Charles’ forehead and he froze, the smug smile on his face disappearing in an instant. “I don’t need Bryant to save me, Charles. I’m my mother’s daughter.”
Phee pulled the trigger and the kick was worse than she had imagined as it jerked her body back. Her heart was pounding and she had closed her eyes when the gun had fired, but it was pretty hard to miss from a foot away – and she definitely hadn’t missed. Charles was half draped over her left leg and she kicked him off her. The gore in front of her was too much and she swallowed the urge to throw up and finished crawling towards Bryant.
Pressing her fingers to his neck she closed her eyes, “Please, Bryant, please. I’m begging you, fucking be alive.” There was a flicker under her fingers and she pressed harder. Weak, and erratic, but there. It was there. She laughed with joy, and kissed him hard. Half a second later and she felt him lean into the kiss, and she pulled back in shock. His turquoise eyes were opened to slits, the gemlike quality of his eyes was dull, filled with pain, but they were open. “BRYANT?! Oh my God, stay with me, okay? Stay awake.”
He nodded weakly and she stood up and ran to where she’d dropped her pants, digging out the cell phone before she rushed back to his side. She called the first number and waited, and waited, and waited, as it rang.
“Hey, I’m calling for help okay? You have to stay awake.” She smiled down at him, brushing his brown hair back from his forehead as she hung up and dialed the second number.
“Okay. Wh- why don’t you have clothes on?” Bryant’s brows were pulled together, his voice a quiet whisper.
“Your uncle was an asshole, that’s why. Now stop trying to talk, I’m still trying to save us.” She forced a smile for him, and he rolled his eyes before he closed them again.
“Holbrook! Give me an update!” The gruff voice of Easton came over the line and Phee sighed.
“It’s me, Easton. Phee. We need help, Bryant got shot, we’re at his uncle’s house on the second floor in an office. I can’t get him downstairs by myself.”
“Update on the mission first. What’s the status on Charles Holbrook?” Easton was harsh, and she wanted to scream at him to fucking hurry up because Bryant had way too much blood under him. Grabbing her shirt from the floor she shoved it under his jacket where the wound was and pressed down. Bryant groaned, but she kept up the pressure.
“I fucking killed him. Is that a good status update, asshole? Now get someone here and save Bryant!” She shouted into the phone, and then muttered an apology to Bryant when he winced.
“You? You killed Charles Holbrook?” Easton had disbelief in his voice.
“I swear, Easton, if you don’t have someone on the way here, the second time I fire a gun in my life it’s going to be aimed at you.”
Easton was laughing, talking to someone away from the phone, and then he came back to the line, “Holy shit, yeah, we’ve got a team heading your way. They were up there on a separate mission, they’ll be able to transport you guys back. Damn, Phee, Bryant should have recruited you sooner!”
Phee looked down at Bryant, agreeing with Easton that she wished she’d met Bryant sooner, and hoping that he survived so they could have more time together. A lot more time. “I agree, he should have. I’ll see you soon, asshole.”
Easton just laughed, “I think I like you. See you soon.”
When she hung up she leaned down, pressing a kiss to Bryant’s temple. He was covered in sweat, and she had no idea what to do for him. She’d just seen on a movie once that you should put pressure on a wound, so she had. She wasn’t sure if she was putting too much pressure, or too little, and she had no idea what else she could do, so she just started talking. “Bryant? Bryant, I want you to stay with me. Just stay with me, okay?”
He groaned and his eyes cracked a little, and she nodded, thinking as she looked around the room and tried to focus.
“Right. Okay. I’m going to tell you a story, and you’re going to stay awake until these guys get here or you’ll never hear the end of it, and it’s a good one, so you better fucking listen.” She took a shaky breath and started, “Once upon a time, there was a great king of fire. He was strong, and brave, but he couldn’t let the fire show because he lived in a castle made of ice, and the smallest slip of his fire could ruin everything…”
Epilogue
“They’re calling it the Golden Age on television you know.” Phee grinned and wrapped her arms around Bryant’s shoulders from behind. He was sitting at his desk, scrolling through something on his computer, but he stopped immediately to turn and kiss her. It was fantastic, and when he nipped her bottom lip and groaned against her mouth it shifted to perfect.
“Who comes up with these names anyway?” Bryant laughed when she stood up, but he grabbed her and pulled her down into his lap, burying his face against her neck. “It’s as silly as the New Democratic Fellowship.”
“Golden Age is a little overconfident.” Phee laughed and brushed a hand through his chestnut hair.
“Everyone is being overconfident. They act like it’s been ten years since the COF was in charge. Six months isn’t very long, I mean, the resistance was still taking out and capturing targets a month ago.” Bryant sighed and leaned back, but she saw the twinge in the movement and made sure she wasn’t leaning on the wrong place. The bullet had torn through his side, and blood had gone into one of his lungs, basically collapsing it from what she understood. He’d spent two weeks in a hospital bed, and it had taken months for the wound to heal, and even now he still got twinges when he moved the muscles wrong.
Members of the resistance had flooded his room, and she had slept by his bedside. Parks had shown up and shook her hand, thanking her for finishing the mission and for keeping Bryant safe. The man had looked at her with the same kind of respect he had shown Bryant the night of the uprising. E
aston had stopped by shortly after, clapping her on the back and giving her and Bryant updates on how the whole thing had played out. Easton still called her at random, apparently having decided they were friends after she’d shouted at him. He was weird, but in a good way. Regan had come by too, totally at a loss for what to do with herself since Alex was dead and there was no job for her to go to. When Phee had told her the whole story, about how the resistance had identified Alex as an informant for the COF, about how he had been paid to sell out his own people and reveal dissenters – all so he could live downtown – Regan had flipped out. She had been shocked, and had talked so loudly that a nurse had come in and told them they had to talk somewhere else.
The whole world had gone insane for about a month, and then the resistance had started their nightly talks on television. At first it had just been an explanation of why the uprising had happened, and assurances that it wouldn’t happen again. They revealed all the horrors of the COF. The spying, the widespread exterminations of the poor down in the fog, the systematic corruption in the government to keep those in the fog from improving anything. All of it. And the world had been surprised, even those living in the fog had been shocked to discover that their disgruntled concerns had actually had merit.
It was when she watched those talks in the early months that she had thought of her mom the most. She hoped that wherever she was, that she could see it. See that the world knew the truth now, and she hoped that she had seen the vengeance she took on the man that had ruined their lives.
Now the talks were all about the future, about the New Democratic Fellowship, and about the upcoming elections. Phee looked at Bryant’s computer screen and he double-clicked an email to pull it up. “So, everyone is pretty sure Mitchell Parks is going to win the election.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, Parks led the resistance, why wouldn’t he lead the new government?” Phee looked over the email that outlined Parks’ candidacy, and then she saw another line. “Wait, he wants you –”
“Yeah. Parks is a great leader, but he doesn’t know anything about running the city. He wants people on his team that can keep the world going. He was a leader of warriors, but now he’s probably going to have to be a civic leader and he is smart enough to know he can’t do that without a lot of help.” Bryant shrugged and looked up at her, his turquoise eyes were bright again, gemstones over brilliant light. “So, he wants me on his cabinet. Because I was the right hand, of the right hand, etcetera, etcetera.”
“Alright, and how do you feel about that? I know you never wanted to be in politics.” Phee tempered her voice to neutrality, wanting his honest feelings and not any tainted by a perceived opinion of what she thought.
Bryant sighed, “Honestly, I’m interested in it. I think I could actually help the NDF do this the right way, and Parks is a good man. He’s never been prideful, and he’s always listened to the people around him. He’s not ashamed of not knowing something or asking for help as long as it feeds into the success of the mission.”
“Okay.” Phee nodded, listening to him. Bryant was still her king of fire, and he had recognized the fire in her too. Sometimes when they were lying in bed he still asked her to tell the story she had made up the night he was dying on the floor under her hands. He had made her tell it again and again in the hospital as he slipped in and out of consciousness. It was his favorite story of hers, because it was their story. And he was still the king of fire. Sometimes he blazed with a ferocity that made the world stand up, take notice, and step back from the heat of it – and other times, like now, he was a subdued, steady forge. No less dangerous for the heat it produced, but not explosive. It was the kiln of thought and determination, and it was what would make him a great leader if he chose to participate in the fledgling government.
However she kept all of those thoughts to herself.
“But, Phee, I don’t need to be a part of them. I’ll do it, but I want to be with you, and this will not be an easy road. If you want a regular life, if you don’t want to be involved with the NDF like this, I’ll be happy doing anything. I’ll be happy as long as you’re with me.” Bryant brushed her hair behind her ear and then ran his hand down her arm.
Phee stood up and held out her hand for him and he took it. She didn’t speak as she led him across the living room, in front of the beautiful view they now shared, towards the bedroom. She gently pushed him onto the bed and he lay out, his brows coming together with the questions he wanted to ask. But he had learned that sometimes she spoke impulsively, usually with enough foul language to make some of the resistance guys blush, and sometimes – when it really mattered to her – she had to think it through first. She climbed onto the bed with him, unbuttoning his shirt slowly until she could see the puckered scar on the left side of his ribs. “Bryant, you know how I feel about you. You know the life I’ve lived has been strange, and the one I’ve lived in my head has been even stranger, right?”
He tilted his head as he looked up at her, “Yeah, I know. And you know I love you.”
She smiled as he said the words again, that had been relatively new, the first time had been early, and they’d both agreed to only say the words when they really felt them. Phee looked up, meeting his eyes, “And I love you.”
Bryant grinned and pulled her down into a kiss, one that made her wet and urged her to climb on top of him and see just how hot he could get her, but she pushed herself up from him so she could say the words she wanted to say.
“Wait.” She smiled at him, “It is because of the lives we’ve lived, it’s because we’ve always been someone different on the inside that we could never do what you’re suggesting. For us, Bryant, a regular life would be a death sentence.”
His smile turned thoughtful and he ran his fingers over her cheek and she leaned into his touch, “So you’re saying I should do it, that I should join Parks’ cabinet.”
“I’m saying if that’s what you want, that you will do it brilliantly.” Phee’s smile broadened as he took a deep breath, obvious relief flowing over him. It was the answer he had hoped for, and the flames around him grew with his confidence until, in her mind, he was a blazing beacon. The kind of beacon that a so-called Golden Age would need.
“With you by my side, how could it end any other way?” Bryant grabbed her around the waist and flipped her over him, and he rolled with her, ending up on top of her. He was between her thighs, and he was hard. She grinned and rolled her hips, moaning as he kissed her again.
The two of them together. A king and queen of fire. An ocean god and a great forest queen. Two birds flying above the fog. Forty-three stories up.
Yes. With the two of them together, the Golden Age could be brilliant.
It could almost be a fairy tale.
About Jennifer Bene
Jennifer Bene is a writer of adult / erotic fiction. Her writing has been described by readers as "dark in a way that turns you on", and she definitely takes that as a compliment! She has a terrible mouth that often gets her in trouble, but comes in handy when she's writing. She loves to write strong female characters and dominant male characters in stories that take readers for a walk on the dark side.
When she's not attached to a keyboard, she likes to read, drink wine, do yoga, binge on Netflix, and enjoy life with friends/family. She lives in Texas, and no, she doesn't own a horse or wear a cowboy hat, you'd have better luck finding her on the dance floor downtown. Seriously.
Jennifer would love to hear from you! She does her best to keep readers up to date via social media, and tries to always respond when readers are nice enough to message her!
Check out her website - http://jenniferbene.com
Find her on Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/jbeneauthor
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Also by Jennifer Bene
Dark / BDSM Erotica:
Security Binds Her (Thalia Book 1)
Striking a Balance (Thalia Book 2)
Salvaged b
y Love (Thalia Book 3)
Dark / Fantasy Erotica:
Fae (Daughters of Eltera Book 1) (Summer 2015)
Tara (Daughters of Eltera Book 2) (Fall 2015)
BDSM Novellas:
The Invitation
The Rite
Of Fog and Fire (Summer 2015)
Anthology Appearances:
The More The Merrier (Ménage / BDSM Erotica)
The Darker Side of Love (Dark / BDSM Erotica)
Twist (BDSM Erotica) (May 2015)
Open Your Eyes
By Livnah A. Eden
Text copyright © 2015 Livnah A. Eden
All Rights Reserved
Acknowledgement and Thank You
To “Flyboy,” thank you for editing me in more ways than one! You are invaluable as an editor, a sounding board, and most importantly as a friend. My deepest thanks to you MJ for all you do.
A very special thank you and I miss you, to my friend, Lexi Brooks. I miss your insights and your wonderful understanding of character and story. Fly with the angels my dear friend, be free, and be at peace.
To my friend Anne A. Lois, without whom, I would never have met this amazing group of people. She was kind enough to offer her friendship and infinite wisdom.
My thanks are also extended to a number of friends for their generous input. To the lovely and talented Eris Adderly for her assistance with the Tarot reading scene, to Livia Grant and my dear Paul for being kind enough to offer to beta-read my story and provide feedback, and last but not least, to the wonderfully talented writers and editors of The Erotic Collective. Thank you all for your willingness to share, teach and mentor.
Aubree was sitting in her tiny apartment, blankly staring out the window. She was listening to Dierks Bentley’s song, ‘Say You Do’ and crying while she tried to sing the lyrics through her tears. ‘Don’t worry about the damage done, just let those words roll off your tongue, even if your lyin.’ Bree looked at the note in her hand and cried more.
Twist (A BDSM & Romantic Erotica Boxed Set) Page 49
