The Dead Among Us

73. Round Three?

Fabia's POV

    Goddamnit...

    I don't say anything as I lay there, regaining my breath.

    He gives me a tap on the hips, informing me to get up, and as I do, I feel like I'm about to cry.

    I brace myself for his next words while digging my hands into my eye sockets, trying so hard not to burst into tears.

    He reaches down while I'm standing there and surprises me by pulling up my panties and sweatpants. He then grabs my hand and positions me to sit on his lap, the one that isn't soaked in my fluids.

As he reclines into a more comfortable position, leaning back against the stack of wood behind us, he reaches into his pocket. He retrieves a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

    "Want one?" he offers, but I decline, with a shake of my head, studying his face.

    He places a cigarette between his lips, sheltering the flame with his hands as he lights it before tucking everything back into his pocket. Leaning back, he takes a drag, the smoke curling around him as he momentarily finds solace in the moment. His hand traces soothing paths up and down my arm, the warmth comforting. With closed eyes, he savors the quietude, lost in the simple pleasure of his cigarette.

    "Are you gonna spank me again?" I ask, my voice betraying my vulnerability.

     "No, not right now... I'm drained now..." he answers, still with closed eyes.

    What was all that talk about about having an extra cup of coffee earlier?

    His eyes suddenly open and dart at me, and fear grips me. Did I say that aloud?

      "Why? Ya want it now?" he says in a teasing voice.

    I don't want to look at his face; it makes my heart thump. I lean down and rest my head on his shoulder, saying, "I just want to know what to expect right now."

    His arm wraps around me tighter as he brings the cigarette to his lips again before saying, "Once I finish this, we can go back."

    "I can go alone now if you want. We're not that far," when I try to stand, his arm wraps around my stomach.

    "No, I'll walk you back."

    "I... won't... run off..."

    "I'm not worried about that," he states, almost offended; when I glance up at him, his eyes are scrunched up.

    He notices my head has tilted up, and he dips his down to look at me. He blows out a puff in the corner of his mouth, away from my face, watching me.

    "There's more than one Greg here, Fa..."

    My heart stops for a moment when he says that. I never truly got answers about that man, but apparently, everyone knew him and even had a funeral for him. And Jon even referred to him as 'Rapist Greg.' Was that actually his plan?... It felt more than that.

    I sit up straight, propping my arm on his shoulder, asking, "Who was Greg?" 

    He's finished with his cigarette now and flicks it into a corner without returning my eye contact.

    "The guy who tried to rape you, I thought you knew that." 

    "I mean, like, what was his job? And he didn't try to rape me, Sabin."

    That got his attention, and his head snaps back in my direction.

    "You said he did."

    "No, I said he tried to tie me up."