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Post by kittypatter on May 17, 2011 15:31:46 GMT -5
Watching Loreli sleep, Bradley gave a small, content sigh. It had been six years since James had walked out and the rest slowly followed in his wake, but somehow, after the years of worry that Victor would come and maliciously murder you in your sleep, the idea of leaving didn’t seem so wise. ‘You can’t go back now.’ he muttered to himself, spinning the propellers on a toy helicopter. Glancing around him, he watched all the figures whirring and humming happily, whizzing around the caravan. Fairy lights and light bulbs littered the shelves and bedstead, flashing ominously each time a dark thought entered his head. One of the bulbs had already smashed - bloody stress, he’d end up going bald.
‘Come to bed.’ a sleepy voice murmured from deep within her pillow. With a genuine smile he joined her, almost instantly falling asleep, their bodies a tangled mess. His angel. There was a time when Christopher Bradley followed in the steps of William Stryker, a gun by his side and his emotions cut. He couldn’t fully commit to the work, like Victor so easily had, but he’d toughened enough not to get close to anyone they came into contact with. It would always end bad. How had this even happened? As he tossed and turned in the bed sheets, his arms wound away from Loreli and wrapped around himself for protection. He’d been brought up in an alright place and had planned to become a clown or an entertainer, or even a car salesmen, if the pay was good enough. Well, at least he’d got half his wish; he was a clown alright, a loner, a freak.
Something warm wrapped around him and it took a moment for him to understand what was happening, still half asleep, he felt soft hands wrapping around his middle, a jaw resting on the crook of his shoulder. She fought away his nightmares with her tender touch, but lately it was harder to master and he found himself waking and quivering with shock. That place had ruined him, he couldn’t even feel safe in his own home and he knew something bad was coming. By the time the next bout of nightmares arrived, Bradley was sprawled on his back, interlocked between all the cushions, the sheet wrapped around his middle. Loreli had given up to his fighting and kicking and gone out into the fairground for some morning air, so bitter and yet welcoming. Resting herself on an upturned bucket, she lit a cigarette, happy for the warmth and peace it gave her. Bradley wouldn’t need to know, not about this harmless little packet, it’d only make things worse.
In his own little dream world, Bradley felt about three inches tall, the room around him dark and hollow, each footstep echoing. He could hear the sound of a prowling creature behind him, snarling and growling as it chased him like a mouse. Running down a corridor, heart in his throat, he hit out against the wall, the sound of tin or metal reverberating around him; he’d just given himself away. Victor bounded around the corner, a sly smirk on his lips as he easily filled the meters between the two of them, but instead of being captured under dirty piss-yellow claws, they both fell through the wall and into what seemed to be a science lab. Bradley’s back hit the floor with a thud and he jolted awake, forcing himself up onto his elbows and shattering four of the light bulbs above his head. Stubbing out her cigarette, Loreli ran inside, gasping and prepared for the worst, sighing as she saw her boyfriend dotted in sweat. Again.
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Post by sanelunatic on May 17, 2011 18:27:48 GMT -5
Across town, hardly five blocks from where the fairground had set up, Samantha Fields sat on the edge of a messy bed. Moonlight streamed in through the bare window, casting dark shadows in the corners of the rooms. She bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. She glanced at the clock, the bright green numbers stinging her eyes. 4.03am. Suddenly, the door to the flat slammed and she stiffened, staring at the bedroom door with a clenched jaw. It opened with a creak and a tall silhouette crept in, it hit the chest of drawers and swore quietly. Sammy marched over to the wall and flicked the light switch, revealing a disgruntled Wade.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ She snapped, arms crossed over her chest. She was at least a head smaller than him.
He glanced her over once and snorted, heading for the bed. ‘Go to sleep.’ He slurred.
‘Go to sleep?’ She hissed and stormed up to him, pushing him hard in his chest. He barely moved. ‘Go to fucking sleep? I’ve been up all night worrying over you but I can see now there was no need, someone took good care of you, didn’t they?’ Her voice was rising in volume as she spied the lipstick stain on the corner of his mouth.
He blinked and some of his drunken expression seemed to fade. ‘Sammy-,’
‘Don’t fucking Sammy me, Wade,’ she cried, flinging open the wardrobe and grabbing an armful of clothes. ‘I’m done. I should have gone a long time ago, I should have gone when we left Stryker, but no, I stayed, for you, and this is the thanks I get.’ Sparks flew from her fingertips as she stuffed the clothing into a sports bag.
He touched her arm, something close to regret on his face. ‘Don’t go, nothing happened.’ She shook him off, but he just grabbed her again, this time tighter. She turned to face him and his face hardened. ‘I mean it, don’t go.’
‘Oh yeah?’ She glared up at him. ‘And who’s gonna stop me?’
He glared back at her, all signs of intoxication had left, and he pushed her back onto the bed effortlessly. ‘Go to sleep.’ He ran a weary hand over his face. ‘We’ll talk in the morning.’
‘No, I don’t-,’
‘Go to fucking sleep.’
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Post by kittypatter on May 17, 2011 18:51:06 GMT -5
‘You never used to be like this.’ she whispered, crawling back under the duvet against her previous words. She couldn’t help it, no matter what he did, or how late he stayed out, or how many times he raised his voice to her - she was stuck on him.
Rolled on his side, so he didn’t have to face her, Wade felt the alcohol churn in his stomach and something else twisted painfully inside. She was right, she was always right. He never intended to be cruel to her, fuck, he loved her, but things had gotten so strained since leaving Stryker, and he knew he wasn’t the only one having doubts about it. They were trapped, forever in doubt of everything and everyone. Without really thinking, he reached behind him and let his fingers graze across her arm, finding her fingers and linking them. Tomorrow he’d try and sort this shit out - he was Wade Wilson and he was sick of taking this lying down.
The next day, Wade stood at the entrancing of the funfair, a look of horror on his face. Running a hand over his stubble, he groaned as a handful of children ran around his legs, balloons bobbing around and smacking him in the face. This hadn’t been his idea, but he’d do anything to save another fight. Reaching out for Samantha’s hand, he thought against it, shoving it into his pocket and staring forward. Ride’s weren’t really his thing, but he could try the shooting game and win some stuffed shit-ass-teddies to keep her at peace. 'Come on then.' suddenly he found his spirit and strode ahead, eyeing a beer stall.
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Post by sanelunatic on May 17, 2011 19:02:32 GMT -5
Sammy bounded after him, her face alight with excitement. It had been awhile since she had looked like that, he noted, her old, bouncy, uncaring self. He shook the thought away and scowled, gritting his teeth. He could feel her looking at him, doing that stupid fucking analyzing shit she did with those big green eyes.
‘Is it her?’ She suddenly said, craning her neck to where he was looking.
He glanced at her questioningly. ‘What?’
She nodded at a slender woman with long dark hair. ‘Is that the woman you fucked? You’re staring at her. She’s really pretty.’ She raised an eyebrow.
‘I didn’t fuck her.’ He blinked. ‘I don’t even know her – it wasn’t her, okay?’
Sammy shrugged. ‘Whatever you say, Wade.’
He narrowed his eyes as she passed him and headed for the cotton candy stall. He caught her wrist and pulled her back. ‘Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t.’ He hissed in her ear.
‘I’m not going to do anything, darling.’ She smiled sweetly and yanked her wrist from his grasp.
Wade knew that look in her eyes but before he could grab her back, she had gone, disappeared into the crowd. Damn her for being small, he thought, and pushed through the cooing parents. The woman was still in his sights, painting the face of a little girl. He was metres away from her when suddenly a ball of fire hurtled out of nowhere, and hit the woman square in the chest, sending her flying into the side of a caravan.
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Post by kittypatter on May 17, 2011 19:14:51 GMT -5
Loreli was contently painting a tiger’s face on a little blonde boy, who kept poking out his tongue to taste the paints, when suddenly she noticed a man heading straight towards her. Blinking, she gave a gasp as the boy let out a cry - she’d just poked him in the eye with the paintbrush and bending, she picked up a tissue and passed it to him. ‘Sorry, darling, are you okay?’ as she went to touch the boys face, the mother dragged him away.
Another lost customer. Looking up, she gazed at the man again, trying to decided whether she knew him or not, but before she had a chance, she was slammed into the side of her caravan. Giving a groan, she rolled over, quickly tugging off her shirt with a gasp. Feeling the start of a burn coming on her arm, she was glad she’d shook it off sooner. The girl was staring at her with such a look of hatred that she had to think for a second if she should just run away. The queue of children that had been waiting for their turn, were all pulled back by their mothers who gasped and cried as Sammy lunged herself after Loreli.
Racing out of the caravan, Bradley had to stop himself from toppling into Loreli. Reaching out to take her arm, he gave a grunt as she pulled away, heading straight towards Samantha. What was this bitch playing at? This was a circus, and now they were going to get some tricks. Pushing her hands out before her, she smirked as the face painting table flew up into the air and hurtled towards the brunette. Bradley only had a second to realise Wade was standing feet from him and fear hit him square in the chest like a chunk of ice.
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Post by sanelunatic on May 17, 2011 19:22:21 GMT -5
A part of Sammy was shamefully delighted when the woman retaliated. She had grown up fighting and learning to defend herself, it was a part of her. Stryker had taught her that. She lifted her arms, sending a burst of fire at the table. It burst into flames, the force of the stream of heat sending the table flying sideways and probably hitting some unsuspecting victim. The area around them had nearly almost been deserted now except a few stragglers.
‘That all you got?’ She smirked. She had spoken to soon when the woman seemingly picked up the chair the boy had been sitting on, and hurled it at her. Sammy was slower this time and the chair hit her legs, sending her crashing to the ground.
‘Bradley?’ Wade raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘The mutant cat hasn’t got you then?’ He grinned, obviously referring to Victor. They had both seen the newspapers.
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Post by kittypatter on May 17, 2011 19:29:44 GMT -5
‘What have I ever done? Psycho bitch!’
Loreli moaned as she watched Samantha fall to the ground. With her other hand she reached out and broke a pole free from one of the stall tents, and without a word she shoved it beneath the girls neck, making her immobile. Keeping the girl pinned to the ground, she wondered where she was supposed to go from here. Behind her, Bradley was having a conversation with the man that had been watching her, and shocked she loosened the pipe.
'Bradley-' knocked backwards, Loreli gave a groan as her head hit the floor and everything mometerily blurred before her eyes. He shrugged his shoulders towards Wade and ran his hand over his mouth. 'Who know's where he is - as long as he doesn't come here.'
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Post by sanelunatic on May 17, 2011 19:37:52 GMT -5
Sammy lunged for Loreli but inches from her, someone grabbed the back of her top and pulled her back. IN seconds Wade had her wrists in his hands and she was pressed up against the caravan.
‘Will you fucking give it a rest?’ He snapped. ‘Its Bradley, and that’s his girl, and I didn’t fuck her.’
‘Damn right, he didn’t.’ Loreli panted, leaning on Bradley, his arm was slung around her shoulders, concern upon his face.
Sammy’s chest heaved as she gasped for breath. She shook Wade off. ‘Whatever, gayboy.’ Wade rolled his eyes.
The four stared, trying to work each other out. They all shared something, which connected them in a way, it made all of them feel as if they should say something. Loreli brushed a piece of hair from her face and glanced the newcomers over coolly.
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Post by kittypatter on May 18, 2011 10:43:54 GMT -5
‘You ruined my stall.’ Loreli muttered darkly, escaping from Bradley’s arms before he had a chance to make her apologise, or even worse, to become social and show the new people around. She didn’t care who they were, or where they were from - they were causing trouble and she’d had enough of Bradley’s little worries without a fire starter on their tail. Glancing at Wade, she shook her head and turned back. She was going to say something but had decided against it. Fuck it, they weren’t worth it. Moving back into the caravan, she could see the dent where she’d hit it and that was when the pain hit home and seared along her right side.
Back outside, Bradley and Wade moved out the way of Samantha’s range. They had things to talk over that they didn’t want to concern here with; even if she had been with Stryker, it didn’t mean she understood what they’d been forced to endure. Things had gotten so much worse, darker and harder to bear. Scratching the back of his head, he handed Bradley a beer in a plastic cup, shrugging as his friend eyed it suspiciously. This was a kiddie cup and he needed a real mans drink. Actually, perhaps friend was a little too far… co-worker? Associate? Whatever. Downing the drink, he could see Loreli moving inside the caravan, her slender shape visible through the thin curtain. Wade couldn’t stay… he couldn’t go back to that, and with him here, something bad was bound to happen. They spoke about their past and what they’d gotten up to. Meeting Sammy and Loreli, living seemingly normal lives, and then the truth had seeped out. Not that they weren’t content with what they had, but…
‘There’s never really an escape. We tried so hard to get away and we’re still trapped.’
Wade said nothing. ‘This beer tastes like piss.’ he deciding, nodding, and yet still finishing off his fourth cup.
Stepping inside the caravan, Samantha gazed at all the little trinkets and gadgets that littered the place - a scent of candles filling the air made her feel like she was going to get her fortunate read. Loreli was sat on the sofa by the window, fiddling with a small portable television, failing to get a signal. This was always Bradley’s thing… he was the signal. Sammy had heard stories about all of Wade’s friends, but hadn’t pushed him to make her see them. Lately she didn’t feel like being social. Feeling awkward she tapped the toy train set, smiling slightly as it took off around the track, wired to every crevice of the caravan like a ghost ride.
‘You’re working in a circus.’ Wade scoffed, ‘I know people say we’re freaks, but isn’t that taking it a little far?’ Bradley knew he was joking, but it still hurt. Shrugging his shoulders he let his fingers dance over a Labradors coat as it trotted towards him, winding between his legs. There was a manner of allsorts around here and he loved it.
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Post by sanelunatic on May 18, 2011 16:42:13 GMT -5
‘I don’t recall inviting you in.’ Loreli muttered, giving up with the television set and straightening up. She turned to face Sammy, who was tapping each of the hanging light bulbs in sequence. ‘Stop that.’ She snapped, rolling her eyes.
Sammy raised a brow. ‘Stop what?’ She asked innocently and tapped a blue bulb particularly hard. It swung forwards and tapped against another one. ‘This?’
‘So mature,’ Loreli spat. ‘I can see why you and Wade are together.’
Sammy shrugged. ‘Cos we’re both fit as fuck.’ Loreli went to reply but the door to the caravan swung open and the two men walked in. Without even sparing a glance at Sammy, Wade flung himself into an armchair and cracked open a can of beer. Bradley smiled grimly at Loreli, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug.
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Post by kittypatter on May 22, 2011 6:42:01 GMT -5
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Snuggled next to Bradley, Loreli squeezed her eyes shut, listening as the wind outside rattled against the caravan, making it creak and jangle. Sammy and Wade lay at the opposite side of the undersized room, laced around one another, a couple of empty drink cans down by their feet. Bradley had never told her that his so-called associate was also a drunk. Groaning, she shifted herself, taking his arm from around her waist and placing it on the mattress. It sounded like a storm was coming. Glancing at the door, Loreli swallowed the idea of going and sat on the edge of the bed, peering in the darkness.
Everything had gotten so awkward after they’d arrived. Every movement felt pressured and every cough felt like a dent against the silence. Loreli had avoided Sammy as much as she could, instead going back outside to have a cigarette while the three of them spoke insides of stories or some shit. She didn’t really care for them, she wouldn’t make friends of them, that was for sure. She and Bradley had a life here, and now these two low-lives had come and invaded it. When were they going? If they thought they were going to take Bradley with them, they had another thing coming. That was all over now, and even though she hadn’t been there like they had, she knew what they felt. Bradley’s dreams gave most of it away; the nervous shaking, the crying.
The wind had dropped slightly, but still whistled through the cracks in the door and window. All they needed now was a fucking tornado. Pulling on her cardigan, she moved to the door, opening it and instantly igniting the sensation of being pulled through a vacuum. The wind knocked a lamp over behind her and quickly Loreli jumped onto the dirt outside, the door slamming behind her from the gale. Time for another smoke.
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Eamonn loved smoking. It was the top of things he loved, along with sex, blowing things up, and money. He wasn’t arrogant, just a man that knew what he liked and what he wanted. Stryker, on the other hand, thought he dripped arrogance and wasn’t afraid to tell him often – too often– that he could break him as easily as the twenty-something cunt could build himself up.
Eamonn had heeded to these words, somewhat. Swinging back on his chair, he let it hover on two feet, only snapping back into place when Stryker slammed his palms against the table with a slap.
‘Yes, Boss?’ he asked, boyish charm igniting, a charismatic smirk spreading across his features. Stryker glowered back at him. There was something about this boy that he didn’t like – but he was good at what he did, and Stryker would just have to put up with that. Eamonn was used for everything. Victor had gone on a rampage a while back and he needed someone stable(ish) to fulfil duties and get things done with less deaths. Sure, Victor had done what was required, but did he need to make so much mess? In common terms, Eamonn was a hitman. He went in, he came out with the goods, tarnishing the opponent slightly, scaring them enough to obey if ever another time comes. But did he have to be some damned obnoxious.
Stryker slid a photo across the table, of two women. They were both brunettes, one more exotic looking than the other. Around the same age, the tallest one with hard eyes, the other unsure. Eamonn stared at them for a long moment, holding the picture before his eyes, keeping his gaze on Sammy. ‘Cute. What do you want me to do?’
‘You remember Wade Wilson, don’t you?’
The smile was gone, dropped onto the floor where Eamonn might as well have stomped on it, stamping it into the ground like a bug. ‘What do you want me to do?’ he repeated placing the photos back down. Eyes once alight with fun had darkened into ones full of malice.
Rolling in the duvet, the two bit and groaned, arched and nipped. His tongue traced the inner of her thigh, hands grabbing at her breasts, her nails digging into his strong back. The muscles tensed as he thrust and she moaned. Turning in unison she straddled him, hands padding his chest, his grip firm on her thighs. Eamonn bit her lower lip, forcing her down hard as they tussled in the sheets; his hands forced her shoulders down, his hardness pressed suggestively between her legs. It was always a battle of dominance, of the opposite sex. Sometimes, Eamonn took it too far. Once he’d burned her forearm with his cigarette because she wouldn’t fuck him; once he’d slapped her hard in the face and her cheek had stayed red for hours and, before she and Wade had left, he’d almost broke her arm, forcing her roughly against the wall in a threat to keep her grounded. Why did they get to leave, and he didn’t? And why did she leave with Wade, and not him?
With his Glock 17 snuggled neatly in the small of his back, Eamonn pulled on a suit jacket and snatched the photos from the desk. The other one, he didn’t know, and strangely, neither did Stryker. But he hadn’t been interested in her – why should he? But if Eamonn could find her, he would certainly find Wade, and he was someone desperately needed. Tests had been arranged, and the powers were mounting up, the sick enthusiasm bubbling up in Stryker like a kid waiting to open his presents. Somehow, Wade had gotten wind of the experiments Stryker wanted him to undertake and in the night, he and Sammy had fled. Sometimes, he blamed Eamonn for their escaping. He’d told Sammy – foolish boy – and of course she’d told her darling little lover. Now he could go and get them back, undo the mess he’d caused.
‘Don’t kill them. He’s important, do you understand? Forget the other girl, just bring me the two men and the youngest.’ But that was when the metal door had been thrown open, and a blood splattered, panting Victor Creed had prowled in. Someone hung behind him, shifting into the darkness, the light of a cigar denting the shadows. 'What's happened? What have you done, Victor!'
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Post by sanelunatic on Aug 14, 2011 13:13:03 GMT -5
Logan had been in town when he had caught the scent. Almost instinctively a low guttural snarl had risen up his throat, earning a few odd looks from passers by. Ignoring them, he had followed the smell to the fairground and that was where he had been for the last half hour – watching, waiting. It wasn’t the best fairground in the world, with few rides there, and even fewer people to keep them occupied. No one had bothered to pick up the empty chip packets and hotdog wrappers so they littered the grass, blowing gently in the wind like tumbleweed. It had been dark before, but now it was pitch black, and Logan lit one of two remaining cigars, sucking the comforting smoke into his lungs before letting it roll out into the cold air. A noise came from a caravan across from him and he stilled, sniffing the air. A figure was walking down in between the caravans, his black coat swishing round his ankles. Logan moved out from behind the candyfloss stall and stood opposite him, hands clenched into fist.
‘What are you doing here, Victor?’ He said, his voice sounding too loud in the deathly silence that had enveloped the place.
The man’s lips lifted into a smirk and one sharp fang was revealed. ‘I could be asking you the same question, Jimmy.’ He laughed.
Logan opened his mouth to tell him that his name was Logan and he was a different person from James altogether when the caravan door swung open and a woman stepped out, a lit cigarette between her lips. She was too pretty to be working at a fairground but looks alone didn’t save you from Victor.
‘We’re closed.’ She said flatly, not at all phased by the two men.
‘I didn’t come for the rides.’ Victor grinned and took a step towards her, Logan mirrored him and the older man paused. ‘You gonna’ stop me? Tell me it’s wrong?’ He mocked.
Logan glanced at the woman who looked puzzled. His eyes flickered back to his brother. ‘Leave her, Victor. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.’
‘I didn’t come for her.’ He shook his head. ‘No, no. Don’t you remember, lightbulb boy?’
‘Bradley.’ The woman tensed. ‘What do you want with him?’
Victor tilted his head to one side. ‘Now, that’s really none of your business is it?’
He lunged but Logan was there, claws out. He slammed his shoulder into Victor’s and he stumbled back, snarling. He raised his hand, his nails sharp and threatening, but Logan grabbed his wrist and pushed it into his chest, holding him still. His fist slammed into Victor’s chest, blood spraying them both and the man roared in pain, shoving Logan aside. Ignoring his groans, he marched to the caravan but halfway there he suddenly stopped stick still. He growled, staring at some sort of invisible wall.
‘What the fuck?’ He snapped and looked up to see the woman standing there, her hands up, palms facing him. She was glaring hard at him, but her hands were shaking somewhat and Victor just smiled. ‘Drop it, girly.’ He snarled.
‘Leave it, Victor!’ Logan shouted. ‘You can’t fight everyone. Go back to Stryker’s.’
Victor seemed to be thinking this over when the caravan door opened and Bradley stuck his head out, blinking blearily. ‘Loreli?’ He murmured.
She glanced over her shoulder. ‘I’ll just be a minute.’ She said, trying to come off strong but her voice cracked. She looked back at Victor, only to find he was gone, along with Logan.
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Post by kittypatter on Aug 14, 2011 14:20:32 GMT -5
‘Pack that bag.’
‘Loreli, I don’t understand..’ Bradley frowned, catching the duffle bag that she had chucked at him, a wad of socks fell out and onto the caravan floor. Like a woman possessed, Loreli chucked everything and anything into her own bag, cramming it tight and filling it in an instance, struggling to do the zip up. Maybe a few things she didn’t need, but snuggled down in the middle between an old cardigan and a book, nestled a battered revolver. It was no big deal; everyone around here had some form of protection, straining from baseball bats to dodgy homemade explosives. They were freaks after all, no one truly wanted them around. Everyone had to cover their own asses, and she was going to do anything she could to save hers and Bradleys.
Sammy and Wade were outside, drinking, chatting, fucking – she didn’t really care. She’d told them she and Bradley had needed to talk, and Wade had thrust his hips with a wink, suggesting he knew what they were really thinking of doing. Loreli had stuck two fingers up behind his back, moaning when Bradley clamped her hand into a fist with his own. He cared for the two strangers more than he did for her, she could sense it. And it wasn’t quiet jealousy, but worry that he would take them under his wing or return with them and everything would be broken. Again. This had been her chance at a new life, a new family, a new person. But now all hope to be normal had vanished in an instance, and as Wade opened the door, she sought it best not to try and send him away.
Placing her bag on the side, knocking over a few electric cars, she moved to Bradley and cupped his face in her hands. He looked down at her with big, round eyes, and she knew she had scared him. Stroking his jaw, Loreli pressed her forehead against his; exhaling slowly as his hands snaked around her middle and held her comfortingly. Somehow, he seemed to understand in that moment. Understand they needed to get away, and they needed to do it now. ‘I love you.’ She sighed, breaking away just as his lips brushed against hers. Suddenly the urge to cry bubbled up and she gave a choking sound, turning away to throw her bag over her shoulder.
She hadn’t told Bradley she’d seen the two men outside, and not because she didn’t know who they were. She knew exactly what was going on, but somehow, telling him would make everything worse. They were after Bradley, not Wade or Sammy, so she wasn’t going to air her midnight meeting with anyone, not yet. Something about the more ferocious of the two had unsettled her, and just thinking about it made her stomach stir nervously, nausea and fear stinging the back of her mind. Shivering, she glanced over her shoulder at Bradley, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye. Why wasn’t he packing? 'Please?' she complained, and feeling Wade's eyes on her she finally turned to face him.
He leant in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He was handsome, in a goofy sort of way, and he really needed to shave. Shrugging her shoulders pathetically, she couldn’t find what to say. What did he want? She wanted to tell him to leave. What had made her so bloody hostile? ‘We’re going. We have to go somewhere. You can stay here.’ The words left her lips like a command and she frowned, swallowing but unable to take them back.
‘Lor, we can’t just-‘
‘They need somewhere to stay, why can’t they stay here?’
‘Because Victor is after us and he’s a murdering psychopath?’ Wade suggested flatly.
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Outside, Sammy sat on an upturned barrel, and Eamonn watched her with a sort of sadistic smile. She was pretty, as ever, a little worn, but still the same beauty he had fallen for. That was how women caught you, with their beauty. How could you deny someone so striking? How could you fault them for doing wrong, when they looked at you with such loving eyes? Too beautiful for her own good; that would be her downfall. He could feel the gun, resting contently, safely out of eyes length. He couldn’t see himself to hurt her though, it was strange. Though he felt possessed into watching her, like she were some fading actress. Sighing, Eamonn ran a hand over his mouth, run down. And that was when she spotted him, and in an instance his lips switched from downturned to a chauvinistic smirk.
‘Hello, Princess.’
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Post by sanelunatic on Aug 14, 2011 14:51:19 GMT -5
Sammy leapt to her feet, almost stumbling right over the barrel. Her eyes were wide, the kohl around them was smudged slightly but it just made her eyes stand out more. Eamonn moved to stand in front of her, his eyes raking up her body appreciatively, he smirked as he watched her back away from him and he followed until her back hit the wall of a ticket booth and she was trapped. ‘Miss me?’ He grinned. ‘What are you doing here?’ She breathed, her hands clenching into fists. ‘I missed you.’ He nodded slowly and reached out, running his fingers lightly over her cheek. She closed her eyes, tensing under his touch. She swallowed. ‘Eamonn, I’m with Wade now, I don’t – I don’t know what you want, but you need to leave.’ His eyes darkened at the name and his hands dropped from her face, instead grabbing her wrist and yanking her forwards so she was pressed up against him. ‘Yeah? So where is the prick?’ _______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ ‘What do you mean Victor’s after us?’ Bradley stared at them both. Wade shrugged. ‘Why don’t you ask your girlfriend here? She obviously knows a lot more than she’s letting on.’ Loreli flashed him a glare so fierce that if looks could kill he would have dropped dead right there and then. ‘Ignore him, Bradley, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.’ She shifted out of Bradley’s hold and moved across the room, shoving past Wade, who held up his hands as if in surrender. ‘Let’s go.’ ‘Loreli, what is this about.’ Bradley folded his arms across his chest, frowning deeply at the woman. Her pretty face scrunched up in annoyance. ‘I’ll tell you on the way.’ She snapped. ‘No, now.’ Lorelie sighed. ‘Fine, I saw him. This Victor guy. He was outside a couple of hours ago with some other guy and they were fighting. The Victor dude said he wanted you, for, for something.’ She looked at Bradley sadly. ‘I didn’t want you to know ‘cos I thought you might go do something stupid. Please, can we just go.’ Bradley’s eyes widened and he glanced across at Wade who shrugged. He dropped onto the bed, running a hand through his hair. A million thoughts were streaking through his mind. What did Victor want? Of course, he had seen the papers, but he didn’t think the man would ever find them here, and even if he did, why would he want Bradley dead? He didn’t have some amazing, life threatening power nor was he particularly useful, he just flew the plane. And Loreli. He looked up at the woman. She didn’t deserve to be dragged into this and no doubt once Victor returned to Stryker, he would tell him of her power. She was unique, her mind beautiful and delicate, yet in seconds she could turn into something...Something else. Stryker would be interested in an instant, another to add to his collection.
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Post by kittypatter on Aug 14, 2011 15:25:53 GMT -5
As Sammy struggled in his grip, Eamonn gave a growl of frustration and shoved her around. Her back to him, his hand slid around her middle, holding her hands to her chest so she couldn’t fight back. His breath ghosted her neck as he spoke, and he grinned, letting his teeth graze over the smooth skin. ‘You gonna take me to him?’ Eamonn asked, groaning, winded, when an elbow came back and struck his chest. Coughing, he lunged forward to grab her wrist, but Sammy had sprinted off away from him, darting between the caravans and miniature stalls.
Rubbing his chest, Eamonn glanced around the deserted fair. It wasn’t in season, so what they did in the spare time between work he would never know. Prowling around the stalls, he turned every corner with a sharp eye, the gun down by his side, prepared. He wouldn’t shoot her, just scare her, make her stop. Every caravan looked the same, though some had been painted on the outside, with flowers and plastic chairs littered around, beer cans dusting the grass. It was like gypsies lived here, and he could hardly bring himself to believe that this was where Sammy would rather be.
Stryker may me some kind of animal, in the way he worked, robotic and yet so coldly animalistic, but the place he owned and housed them in, was almost luxurious. Modern, but chrome and un-homely. There – he’d seen a flash of hair, a gasp as she ran faster than her body would allow, the sound whipping in the air around him. His panting was loud in his ears, beating, thudding. His shoes loud as they ran through the hard ground. Sammy had just jumped into an open door of a caravan, and it had closed shut behind her, locking him out. Stopping abruptly, he drummed his fists aggressively against the flimsy metal.
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‘Bradley, can we go, please?’ there was a strange urgency in her voice and Wade picked it up, staring at her cautiously. ‘I told you, now we need to go.’ Moving over towards him, she tried to slide her hand into his, but he shook his head slowly, absorbed by thought. ‘Bradley-‘
‘What’s the rush?’ Wade asked slowly, arms still crossed over his chest, head tilted to the side. ‘If Victor wants us, we don’t stand a chance. He’s one smart pussycat-.‘ as he went to close the door, a blur of hair shot inside and collided against him, delicate fingers failing to shut the door because some of the clothes Loreli had packed were jamming it tight. Kicking the shirts out of the way, Sammy slammed the door shut, screaming in shock as something thumped hard from the other side.
‘What did you do!’ Loreli squealed, giving Bradley an I-told-you-so look.
Sammy wanted to tell them it wasn’t Victor, that the risk wasn’t as great as a murderous feline, but to her, Eamonn was the greatest threat of all. Maybe if she had them think the danger were grater, they’d help her. Work faster. ‘I was just sitting there, and I saw him.’ She moaned, feeling Wade pick her up around the middle and place her behind him. Together, he and Bradley pushed anything they could find in front of the small door, doing the bolts and padlocks recently installed. ‘What are we going to do?’
All of them were quiet for a moment, spare the heavy panting that had filled the room, making it seem claustrophobic and unsafe. Hiding in here wouldn’t make anything better. Taking the gun from her bag, Loreli held it up in front of her, frowning uncertainly as Bradley came to her side. ‘Think about what you’re doing, Lor-‘
‘I’m not going to shoot them, I’m going to shoot him.’ Pointing the gun towards the door, she ignored Wade’s complaints and watched him shift the rocking share from the door, leaving it free, spare the locks. ‘It might startle him, or something. So we can run.’
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