Heathens & Hand Grenades (Book 1 of the Heathens Duet)

Chapter 50- Callie

I don't know what I was thinking.

The door closes behind me and the soft click jolts my body into motion. "God," I whisper. No response. "Sir," a little louder. I'd laugh in any other situation. Trying to rouse him from a nightmare with nothing other than a fake name and an honorific. At least with Dario and Jaxson, I'd have their real names. I know so little about the man before me.

I didn't think any of this through. I'm not even wearing Dario's shorts because who would I have run into in the middle of the night? So barely oversized shirt and underwear it is.

He's so tangled in his sheets, that I worry about them strangling him. His normally scratchy rasp sounds so broken as he roars and pleads with an invisible enemy, his words barely making sense. I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I swipe at them with the back of my hand.

I step closer to the edge of the bed, just a knee on and inhale. Summoning courage from goodness knows where, but he needs me. My lonely God. I'm just doing what I know he wouldn't hesitate to do for me. "Wake up," I say gently but firmly with a hand on his shoulder as I lean closer.

He flips me onto the bed with a speed and strength no unconscious person should have and pins me beneath him with his forearm against my throat. The breath is knocked from my lungs and I rethink every way I thought this would go.

"Don't fucking touch me," he growls as he presses further on my windpipe. My legs are useless despite my squirming and he barely registers my nails digging into his arms as I attempt to gain a breath. "God, Sir, please," I beg as I cough against the pressure. Swallowing is impossible. Those tears that had been building at his pain are now falling with my own and my heart is racing with the thought that he could kill me right here and now and no one would notice.

"How does it feel to be the one helpless?" He grits out between his bared teeth. "You'll never touch me again," he promises, his knees pinning my legs down and I wince at the pain of his weight baring down on me.

"It's Callista," I rasp. "Please. Stop. Please." My scratches weaken, my eyes blur, and my racing heart slows. I can hear it dimly echoing in my ears. My heart and his breath, so loud.

No. Not like this. I don't want to hurt him.

He's going to hate himself for this.

"I'm sorry," I whisper as the black dots blanket my vision erasing his tortured feral grin as he chokes me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heaven is a lot darker than I thought it would be. More painful too. I just want to go back to sleep. When I wake up, all will be right.

"I didn't mean to. She was there, but it wasn't her. It was-" Huh?

"It's not your fault. She shouldn't have even been in here. She's breathing. I got to her in time." That does not sound like any angel I would want to see.

"But what if you didn't?! I could have killed her." The voice is shouting. There's no need for that. I'm trying to sleep. Heaven is supposed to be peaceful. This feels more like the worst hangover ever. "I did kill her." It whispers. So, I am dead. Disappointing.

"I brought her back," the other one sighs like he's mentioned this point numerous times and the info is just fading into the ether. "You just need some time to process. I'll take her on a supply run in the morning, give you a bit of space to breathe and I'll calm her down. She'll be fine. Everything will be fine."

Groaning hurts. In fact, breathing hurts and my chest feels like I just fought a gorilla and lost. I thought death was supposed to be an escape from all this. My head is pounding and the cough I attempt just makes everything worse.