Repellent

6- Killer Legs and a Bleeding Heart

*First Draft

"Jade, move away from the wanted murderer," Ethan says, condescension etched in his words.

"Don't hurt him," I plead as I wrap my arms tighter around Roman's body.

"Don't hurt him? You should be more worried about you. How close are you to him right now?"

Before I can answer, the deep rumble of Roman's voice startles me. "She has her arms around me. Her head is resting on my chest." He pauses and unease fills my belly. With a sultry rasp, he adds, "I can smell the floral shampoo in her hair."

My grip around Roman loosens and I look up at his stoney face. Why is he speaking to Ethan like this?

"So it speaks. Jade, get away from him now," Ethan commands, eyes still averted while pointing the rifle toward us.

"How does it feel that she wants to touch me, but not you?" Roman prods.

I don't understand. My stomach drops like a sinking ship and my head feels like it's stuck in the Cerisian sand, my mind no longer in my body.

"Shut the fuck up! Jade. Come. Now," Ethan barks.

I can't believe this is happening. I should move away from Roman, but I'm still afraid Ethan will beat him or shoot him.

"I..." I try to find my voice, but nothing comes out. I don't know what to do. Roman is acting strange and cold like he doesn't care about me at all.

We developed a friendship. Or, I thought we did.

"Why don't you come and get her? Never mind, you don't have the balls to get up close to me," Roman continues.

My heart is starting to race, my lungs...I'm panting.

My head is still resting on his chest, but I don't want to be there anymore.

"It's because you're a nasty fuck," Ethan sputters.

"Jade doesn't think so."

I didn't think so. But...

Ethan goes silent. While one hand holds the gun, his other hand starts pounding himself in the face. He lets out an animalistic scream before he lunges for me.

Instinctively, I curl into a ball, but Roman is lightning fast. He moves his legs and trips Ethan so he falls on top of him, his back collides forcefully into my face. Pain stings my nose, and I fling myself away as Roman wrestles him down with his legs. Ethan's breaths are coming out as high-pitched squeals, as he tries to flail away from his assailant. Roman has one leg pinning down Ethan's gun hand, and his other leg around his waist.

Gasping in panic, Ethan tries to pry the legs off of him with his free hand, but Roman doesn't budge.

Finally, Ethan's grip relents the gun and Roman manages to nudge it away, out of reach.

"Jade...gun," Ethan chokes out.

Tears are falling down my face. I should get the gun. I should.

Most people's response to high stress is fight or flight. Mine, apparently, is freeze and I hate myself for it.

Roman relaxes his hold and Ethan takes advantage by trying to squirm away. Roman must have anticipated that response because he swiftly readjusts his legs around Ethan's neck.

I should get the gun.

I'll grab it. Point it. Say, 'Let him go.'

And then I'll be transported to Hestia...