Until I Die(18+)

In Which There's A reunion

        I gasp when the pressure against my throat is suddenly lifted, rolling to the side and onto my hands and knees. My hand lightly grips at my neck as if it will somehow help me breathe better.

        That had been too close, I think, heart pounding. But somehow, Eric had saved me. Again.

        Shaking, I peer over at the two men in time to see Eric force the man off of the floor by the collar of his jacket before pelting him in the face with his fist. Oliver barely seemed conscious, his face a bloody mess.

        "You messed with the wrong people," Eric snarls, following his words up with another punch but this time, he let Oliver fall to the ground, barely alive. He spits at him before nudging him with his boot. Yeah – Oliver was out cold.

        Eric turns his attention to me, a crazed look in his eye which sent a shiver down my spine. I let myself fall to the side, my weight on my left hand and hip as my body sags with exhaustion. My throat ached; it felt like something was lodged inside of it. I could taste blood.

         "Jo," he whispers, sounding shocked. I didn't blame him because I felt the same way. What were the chances we'd both end up here? He stumbles, looking a bit unsteady on his feet but a quick glance tells me he's not injured. He kicks the machete out of the way before kneeling in front of me.

        I try to say his name in response, but it hurts too much, and I swallow painfully. I guess I wouldn't be talking for a while. I try to take a deep breath, but breathing is difficult – I feel like I was trying to suck oxygen out of a sponge. I hope Oliver hadn't permanently damaged anything.

        Eric raises a hand to my throat, and I shiver as his fingers graze from my chin to the base of my throat where they rest on top of my own hand. He frowns at my neck. "He'll suffer for this," he tells me, darkly.

        I nod in agreement, wincing when the movement pulls at my neck. My eyes search his. I realise that my butterflies were still there, going crazy for this man. Persistent little things. My hand feels warm and tingly under his.

        Eric clears his throat, gaze flickering between my eyes and my throat. "How long did he...?" He asks gruffly. He was beyond angry. It almost makes me smile.

        I go to speak again but wince at the noises I barely manage to make. Smiling grimly, I slip my hand out from under his and take the other away from the rubble. Using my digits, I flash him two sets of ten.

        His response is tight. "Twenty seconds?"

        I make a noise of agreement. I couldn't be absolutely sure since I was a bit too busy being killed to count the exact seconds, so it was a rough guess.

        An angry exhale leaves his nose. "You're lucky. People pass out in half that time," He says it so matter-of-fact it makes me wonder how he knows. His fingers caress my neck once more before he removes his hand completely. I miss the warmth immediately. "You'll be fine. But we need to get your hands cleaned up."

        I frown and flip my hands up, looking at my palms. Ouch. They were bloody with small cuts. I guess I must have hurt them when I climbed out of the car. Cutting my gaze back to him, I frown when I realise there was no blood on him. How had he killed a group of people without a single mark on clothes or skin?

        The question is pushed from my mind as he holds a hand out to me. I grip it and rise unsteadily. Eric places his other palm to my elbow. I stumble and his hand abandons mine to find purchase on my hip where he pulls me close.

        My fingers find his chest, gripping his hoody as my world spins. My head drops forward until it rests against the soft fabric of his clothes, and I whine pathetically. I feel sick all of a sudden. A reaction which could have been caused by a number of different things which had happened to me recently.