The Guily Ones

Punch in the Gut

A/N: Triggerwarning. 

This chapter is a bit darker than the rest. Nothing to dark, but maybe still worth mentioning, as it contains themes of: 

* child abuse (mainly talked about/insinuated, barely depicted)

* trauma/shock/catatonic state

If I missed anything, please let me know, so I can update this list. Now, without further ado, please enjoy!

James.

Who else could it have been?

Always. James.

He had been lurking in the shadows, waiting for me to appear, and in the very same undead breath that he used to curse me, he lunged forward. In one swift, brutal motion, he knocked out the terrified girl with a blow to her temple, just after she had screamed my name at the top of her lungs. The sound of her scream would be forever etched into my memory, haunting my nightmares. A shiver ran down my spine still, goosebumps prickling my skin as red-hot anger surged through me, all of it directed at James. But he merely chuckled at my growl of fury and my attempt to charge at him.

"I can't believe it—Mama Ash to the rescue. This might actually be easier than I thought. We needn't have gone to all that trouble..."

He had already yanked the girl up by her hair and hoisted her onto his arms. As I took a step toward him, his fangs flashed out, sinking into the girl's neck. He drank deeply, and whatever shred of respect I might have still held for him was utterly obliterated. When he finally withdrew his teeth from her dainty throat, to warn me not to interfere, thick drops of blood dripped into the limb girl's blonde hair.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Ash. Behave yourself, or she dies."

I froze in place, and James grinned with satisfaction.

"That's better." As a "reward" for my compliance, he licked the open wound, his saliva barely stimulating the healing process. Then, like she was nothing more than a sack of wet potatoes, he slung the girl over his shoulder and gestured with a flourish for me to lead the way. My stomach churned, and it took me a moment to get my feet to move. What choice did I have? It was obvious, that James was capable of anything. Whether I had the strength to fight didn't matter in these circumstances. James wasn't attacking me directly; he was using a child as his shield. So, I followed him, where he shoved me into a car and dumped the girl onto my lap. We drove through the dark night to a complex of buildings. The little girl in my arms was breathing so shallowly that at times I feared James's blow to her temple had been too severe. But the growing lump and her racing heartbeat, which made her small chest rise and fall rapidly, reassured me otherwise.

"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here," I tried to convey mentally, repeating the words like a mantra in my head. It was more to calm myself than the girl. The truth was, I was at a loss.

Sure, I could have fought. My body was still battered from the previous days, but I felt stronger and more energized than I had in a long time. But I had no idea how to protect the girl under these circumstances. In a twisted way, I was almost thankful that the girl seemed to be unconscious. For the moment, she was spared the reality of our dire situation.

The real fun began when we reached the parking garage. Two gorillas—figuratively speaking, not actual apes, but two massive, muscle-bound men—had been waiting for us. Before I could register what was happening, one of them had ripped the girl from my lap while the other yanked me out by my hair and twisted my arm behind my back. The barely healed injury flared up again, threatening to pop back out again. I yelled in pain. Unfazed, James locked the car.