"GET OFF!"
"Yield."
"GET OFF!"
"So, what's the verdict?"
At that question, Nathaniel shut up.
"Saving your breath?" I asked, placing a hand on his bare back, feeling the rise and fall off his chest.
To say that his position was compromising was an understatement. My knee pressed against his neck as my foot simultaneously pinned his wrist. His other arm, I had locked to the side firmly pulling him up, limiting his airway.
"How - did -" he paused to take in another breath, "youdothismove?" Nathaniel rushed out in a breath, returning to his laborious gasps.
"I'll tell you when you apologize."
He glared up at me, and I smiled confidently in return. It was the fifth time I had pinned him down. Nathaniel angered easily when he had no control of his emotions, the stone face completely cracked. He was a volcano, the pressure building until there's a fissure, and then boom. Each time I won, the angrier and more careless he became.
"Atla," an all too familiar voice called, making me stiffen.
How in the bloody hell did he get in?
Releasing Nathaniel, I pulled him up quickly, warning him to be quiet. I shoved him into the weapons' room, shutting off the lights and closing the door.
"Atla, are you downstairs?" His voice was nearer now, and this was the last thing I needed to end tonight.
"Stay here," I whispered, stepping backwards, reaching for the knob. Turning it and slipping out, I made my way upstairs, coming face to face with my father.
"Why are you here?" I demanded, eyes narrowing.
"Atla -"
"No. How did you get in? I locked the door."
"I tried your back door. It was open."
Nathaniel!
Grinding my teeth, I shut the basement door. Dad had a wistful look on his face, but I couldn't find an ounce of kindness within me.
"So, what did she say?" I asked coldly.
"Who?" My father frowned in confusion.
"Dove," I stated, scoffing lightly.
"Why do you think it's about her?"
His eyes shifted, when I switched the hallway's light on, revealing my deadpan expression.
"When isn't it about her?" I asked, walking past him to the living room.
"Where are Peyton and Nicky?"
"Just say what you want and leave. You interrupted my workout."
His footsteps faltered, stopping shy of the living room steps, lips pressed into a thin line. Arching an eyebrow, I waited for him to say something.
"Since when do you speak to your father like that?"
"I don't have a father," I quipped. "What did your wife say Mr. Rollins that prompted you to deign me with you gracious presence?"
My words stung, regret swimming in his eyes, but I still couldn't find sympathy.
"Atla, I'm sorry -"
"If that's what you came to say, please leave through the front door. Your apology is worthless," I said interrupting him, gesturing to the entryway.
YOU ARE READING
The Berserker
Action"Be careful when you prod a sleeping beast, for when it awakes, carnage is sure to follow." Twenty-two years old, Atla Rollins is a survivor of a hell on Earth. Her survival does not come without a price, and it weighs heavily on her as well as the...
