The Berserker

Chapter 12

Of course Peyton was reluctant to move out. As we sat with mirroring expressions of aggravation, Nicky was doing her best to be the peace keeper. It didn't help I was still pissed off at him for prolonging the act of his reversion.

Peyton opened his mouth, and I glared, narrowing my eyes as he started with the same argument again,"Who's -"

"Peyton if you say that again, I will fight you to remind you how capable I am of protecting myself," I snarled, keeping my body relaxed.

"NO!" Nicky yelled amidst our heated conversation.

"I'm more worried about you losing yourself," Peyton snapped back, and I laughed wryly. "Says the one who pretended to stay in a reversion stated after he returned."

"I have people to bring me back. Who do you have when we're moved out?" He hit a low spot, and he knew it. Most of the time, I returned on my own, but sometimes - just sometimes - a more rude awakening is required before too much damage is done.

"It's time I figured that out on my own," I answered coldly. "I won't have people with me every time."

The coldness in my voice surprised me. I was stating the truth; luck wouldn't be on my side all the time if I had any to begin with, but it felt different today.

Clenching his fists, Peyton growled, "The next time you ask me for help remember this. I won't be helping you."

"So what? Because I'm trying to help our family you're going to shun me?" I demanded, the rage inside boiling. The heat of my anger washed over me, making my neck hairs stand on end.

"Because you're eagerly rushing towards your death. You want to be killed. That adrenaline you get," Peyton stood up glowering at me, "from a near death experience, you're addicted to it."

I matched his stance facing him eye to eye. "You always make it seem like I'm the bad one, instantly rushing to danger. You know whenever I fought, I was defending someone else or myself. But, you, you're different. I think it's you who's addicted to that rush and you take your frustration and anger out on me." I flicked him in the chest.

Smirking slightly, I continued,"You're still hiding and you hate not being able to show your true self."

Peyton's eyes widened unable to refute it. "Et je sais que tu détestes ça le plus." (And I know you hate that the most.)

It never did occur to my mind what happened next was a possibility. The clap that resounded stunned both Peyton and I, and we simultaneously turned to face Nicky who looked like she was ready to put us ten feet under. My cheek felt weird, and I moved my jaw around trying to figure it out.

She slapped me... and with all of her strength, I realized noticing her harsh breathing and hanging position.

"We're moving and that's final. Now, the two of you either stop quarreling like children or Lord help me, I'll sedate the both of you and lock you up," Nicky said in an angrily quiet voice.

I swallowed at the mention of being locked up. Blake started crying from their room, presumably because of all the yelling, calling Nicky away with a huff.

And, that was that. The end of our discussion.

In the next two weeks, we located a house for them to move into - a reasonable distance from the current location - and packed up their stuff and moved within the next two weeks, working around Peyton's work schedule mostly since he refused my help in that respect. I couldn't blame him either; I was still mad about it too. Throughout our cold war, the responsibility of taking care of Blake rotated, giving me a chance to become more comfortable with him. Perhaps, the sole benefit given the situation. I think he liked me, but I couldn't be sure because his mood would change rapidly around me. I liked him though, and I loved seeing him smile.