Vigilante

7. Patty Parker

The last time Patty had been in a dress shop like Cherri Couture, it had been for their senior prom. She had remembered the shop girls giving her dirty looks, and the whispers that she wasn't good enough to be Ryder Armstrong's girlfriend. It was something that had followed her through her entire life. She was after all the daughter of the help.

She wasn't supposed to be with someone like Ryder. But for whatever reason, fate had put them together time and time again. And who was she to argue with it? They were so woven together she didn't think anyone could tear them apart if they tried, and she knew that for a fact because death had tried. And death had failed. Because they were right back where they started.

Together, forever.

She could feel the stares as she browsed the dresses. She had only been to the ballet a few times, and each time, she'd had Mrs. Armstrong to help her. "How about this one?" Ryder suggested, holding up a bold, red dress with a slit up the leg.

She blushed. "I can't wear that to the ballet. Not if we're just going as friends to this thing."

"But it would be oh so much fun to tear off you."

"Keep it in mind for later," she whispered, "we have to be respectful. I might seem fine but I...I still lost something. I still went through something traumatic, and the cities still grieving."

He frowned. "Alright, alright. But that doesn't mean you have to look like Judi Dench."

She blinked. "I'm surprised you even know who Judi Dench is."

"You shouldn't be. You used to torture me by making me watch the 2005 Pride and Prejudice over and over again."

"Don't act like you didn't have a crush on Kiera Knightley as much as I did Mathew Macfayden."

He grinned. "I absolutely didn't. Because the only woman I have ever had a crush on was you."

Patty could have sworn she heard one of the shop girls sigh dreamily, which made her roll her eyes. "You're incorrigible."

"Yet, you love me."

She turned away, attempting to hide her blush, and focused on the sparkling, dark blue dress that she had found. "What about this one?"

He sighed, reluctantly putting away the red dress. "I want to see it on you first."

"As you wish, Mr. Armstrong." She noted the bulge in his pants, making her giggle as she went to the dressing rooms.

The one they went into was big, private, entirely surrounded by mirrors. "Turn around," she ordered, "I've got to change."

He laughed. "You've got to be joking. After everything we did last night?"

"I'm supposed to try on the dress so that you can see it," she reminded him, "we won't get to that part if you see me change before."

Ryder frowned. "Well, well, well, aren't you cocky."

"I'm not wrong, am I?"

In answer, he turned around so that she could change into the dress. Its cool fabric slipped over her, feeling delicious against her skin. "Beautiful," Ryder said.

As she adjusted herself, she glared at him. "You looked before it was even all of the way on."

"Whatever you wear, it's going to be beautiful because it's on you." He stepped forward, grabbing both of her hands, and pressing his forehead against hers.

"We shouldn't do this here," she whispered.

"I have spent the last five years doing what I should be doing," he told her, his breath hot against her lips, "I don't give a damn about shouldn't. All I want to focus on is want, and that---" his hands trailed up against her arms, making her shudder at his touch, ---"is you."

They were in the middle of one of the fanciest stores in Conrad City, with an entire staff of people outside the fitting room. Not to mention the shoppers. Patty knew she should have protested, put an end to the whole thing then and there. But all she cared about in that moment was his fingers on her.

She heard the zipper sliding down, and felt the dress fall to the ground. Then her bra went with it, and her panties. Soon she was standing completely nude in the dressing room.

"Your turn," she challenged as she grabbed hold of his suit jacket, wrenching it off before tossing it to the floor. His eyes became dark, like that of a predator going in for the kill.

As she unbuttoned his shirt, he went for his pants, and soon there was nothing but their skin on each other. They sought refuge in one another, making up for lost time in kisses, licks, and the brushes of fingers. It wasn't love making. It wasn't even fucking. It was them, memorizing each other in case the world ever tried to strip them away from each other again.

And it would rue the day that it tried to.

When he finally drove his cock into her, she was already a quivering mess, completely at his mercy. Her whole body melded into his as she arched into him with every pound, and he became animal like as he thrust into her.

As she was about to burst, she felt a blistering heat against her skin. Patty let out a scream. Something was burning her skin. She felt tears well up in her eyes, and saw to her horror, that Ryder's own had become an angry, flickering red orange. Like they were filled with flames.

"Ryder," she cried, "Ryder!"

He pulled away from her abruptly, his body covered in flames. He looked from her, back to his hands which were covered in flames. Flames that had crept up and down his entire body. A scream came from him, and before she could stop him, the flames engulfed the room.

Patty stood up, trying to pull on her clothes even as the room filled with smoke around her. She could hear the shrill beeping of an alarm, and the screams of the staff as they ran to get out. "Ryder!" she called, but through the smoke she couldn't see him.

Finally, a figure emerged. A figure that was not Ryder at all, but a tall, burly man wearing a fireman's uniform. His eyes widened as he saw her, half naked, with burn marks on her skin.

"C'mon Miss," he said, "I've got you."

"Ryder!" she called out. "Where's Ryder?"

"Miss, there was no one in there with you," he told her, "your safe. Everyone's safe."

But Ryder wasn't there.

The last thing she remembered before she passed out was coughing on smoke, and then the world faded out.