Page 12 of Killer (Project)

“I did nothing wrong,” I yelled my voice growing weak. He crossed the room in what seemed like less than a second coming face to face with me. He reached his hand up, and on instinct, I flinched away. Not because I thought he would hurt me, but because it just had become a habit.

“You’re so right, Maggie. You haven’t done anything wrong. You have been the kindest individual you could be, and I understand that now. What you don’t get is when I told you to stop…” his words stopped as his eyes dropped down to the spot where Blake’s hand had touched me, “…to stop sticking up for me—you caring has brought all this on you.”

His voice was soft, caring, and I wanted to press into his touch as his fingers gently ran across the slap on my cheek.

“I don’t care. It was the right thing.” The words didn’t sting quite as bad as the reality of what they meant. I had been doing the right thing. I had been sticking up for Diesel because no one else would. Even if we were both damaged from the outcome of it all, I would rather have us both here than an early death for him.

“In reality, it isn’t. You don’t deserve to be called names.” His breath could be felt against my own lips, and as I lifted my eyes up to his, I almost gasped. In those eyes, I saw a flicker of something that I had never seen in all the years I had known him. Love.

“It’s not the names that hurt, Diesel. It’s the physical things that hurt. I can wipe away the hurtful comments like a chalkboard, but I can’t undo the physical. I can’t make my mind forget what a slap feels like.” A tear escaped my eye, sliding down my cheek. Diesel’s thumb stopped it, pressing softly against my skin.

“You won’t ever have to… I’ll help you forget.” His lips pressed against mine feather soft, the connection causing goose bumps to develop on my skin. His hand sunk into my hair softly as if he wanted to breathe life back into me. Was he afraid the others would shut out the goodness that was inside of me?

When he pulled away from me, my mind was spinning and my cheeks were flushed. Long gone was the very thought of pain. Now it was replaced with something else. He pressed our foreheads together and stared deeply into my eyes.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore. I won’t let them break you, beat you, or make you weak. You didn’t listen to my warnings. You didn’t stay out of it. None of that matters though—all that matters now is that they stop hurting you. You were there for me, even when I didn’t need you. Want you. I will be here for you.”

“What’s her name?” I could hear someone ask but couldn’t answer. My throat ached as if someone had shoved a baseball bat down it.

“No idea. I never asked Killer, and at this point and time, I don’t feel like going back in there to do so.” The voice speaking was deep and robust. My body felt weak as I tried to move around in the arms of the person carrying me.

“Fuck. She’s waking up. Let’s get her to a room.” I wanted to grunt, doing anything I could to let them know I was still here. I had no idea where I was or what was happening.

I hear the clicking of a door opening and my body being placed on soft sheets. I willed my eyes to open, but they wouldn’t. It felt as if cinderblocks were laid upon them.

“We need to go get Greg,” one of the voices said. Who was Greg? Were these people going to hurt me?

I heard the click of the door closing as whoever was in the room left. It was then I focused on getting my eyes to open. Think happy thoughts, I told myself—when in reality all I could see was the darkness in the man’s eyes that I had loved. I knew it was him. Not just by looks, because he looked very different than he used to, but in my body, my soul. I felt a pull. Kind of like love at first sight, but more so along the lines of seeing an old friend after not seeing them for years. You just know.

As I focused on Diesel, who was now going by Killer, my eyes popped open. My throat throbbed, and as I tried to lift a hand up to my throat, I realized I was unable to do so. Was I paralyzed?

I tried wiggling one of my toes, and it worked. What the fuck was wrong with me? Panic seized me as I looked around the room. It was simple. A bed I was laying on the corner. A dresser with a TV in front of me. A closet to the right, and a door that lead to what I would assume was a bathroom.

It was personal living quarters, but why? Which led me again to the question of, where was I? My eyes swiveled around the room. No windows, no escape route.

I could hear voices approaching and forced my eyes closed not wanting them to think I was awake yet. What if these people wanted to kill me? After all, what was it Diesel was supposed to be? Dead.I had gone to his funeral. I had wept at his casket and clasped his hand in my own. Yet he was alive. Breathing, seething in rage. He had almost killed me.

Not only that, but it was completely obvious he hadn’t a clue who I was. If he had, he wouldn’t have ever laid a hand on me. The man I knew, and the man who he was now, were two very different people.

“What the fuck happened out there? I told you guys to lay low. Now you got people questioning us,” a voice raged just outside the door. I forced myself to stay unmoving, which wasn’t an easy feat when all I wanted to do was to run from wherever I was.

“Killer. He went off the rails. He’s been in the training facility since we got back. I think this is someone from his past.”

The person speaking couldn’t have been any more correct. I wasn’t just someone from his past, though.

“Fuck, Christ. What did you use to dose her up?”

“L1,” the man responded. What the fuck was L1?

“Good. Let’s hope it doesn’t have any adverse effects on her,” the man who I assumed was the leader said sounding relieved.

“Do you want us to do some background work on her? I’m not sure she can ever leave this place. People in the club honestly thought Killer committed murder.”

I could practically feel the anger and confusion filling the room. They weren’t alone in their emotions. I wanted answers, too.

“Full background. Find out where she lives, placement of work, and any other information that would be helpful. She has free will to the entire building. She isn’t to leave under any circumstances and let Killer know he isn’t to have contact with her.”

The man sounded disappointed as if he had expected more from Killer. I almost couldn’t blame him. At that moment when he had his hands around my throat, I saw a lost man, a man who had so much hate and anger built up. He wanted to unleash fury on anyone who made him feel something he didn’t want to feel.