Wicked Games

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Kent's POV...

"Can you get there?" She yells.

"Where?" I yell back. Through such a rain no kind of voice is heard.

"There." Pointing she makes effort to jump down.

"Why do you want to go there? To hide away?" She remains silent.

"Can't you just let me go?" Damn, this woman is mad stubborn and traumatized. Her attempts to run away from me, curl into her nutshell and cope with all the news by herself destroys me, tears me apart, to think how hurt she is, that she's been all alone, by herself for whole life. And for now she got used to have herself only, to let swollen heart heal by itself.

I let her go and she rushes into some building that has huge lighting letters atop of entrance. It's a club. Which is, despite the storm completely filled with drunk crowd. It's Greece, what else did I expect. But now all I care about is Hope to not go absolutely insane because she acts like one.

Getting through crowd she taps on bar table. "Something really strong, doesn't matter what."

"What you think you're doing?" I question her freak behavior.

"I want to drink." She announces without even looking at me as if ghost was talking to her.

"I think you don't need it." It's pointless trying to get her attention. If she wants to ignore you she does it professionally.

"I thought you were alcoholic one between us and now you're trying to prevent me from drinking?" Judgmental eyes check me from head to toe.

"Drop the attitude." I warn her.

"What are you going to do about that?" Stay quiet I tell myself because if I open mouth I'll end up saying something really inappropriate. "I just want to be little tipsy, I'm not gonna get drunk."

. . .

She's again on that table, drunk, very drunk, dancing like nobody's watching.

Wild and bold, it makes me adore her even more. What a free soul's owner. Kent, ah Kent! Focus!

Swaying her hips, touching those pretty waves entertains me more than it should. The image came to my mind when she danced for the first time and captivated me with her charm. I let myself say that her body looks perfect, not because of hourglass figure, absolute flat stomach and wide hips but because it's her and she'll look perfect no matter what.

I'll have to take care of her later, she lost her mind half-hour-ago after almost a whole bottle of martini. So cup of double whiskey satisfies me. From distance, I observe her magic, how it spreads to the people around her and fills them under siren-like influence.

I lost attention for exactly two seconds and now I see man trying to force Hope to dance with him. And she makes hopeless effort to get rid of him. I press back of my teeth tight to kill anger boiling inside of me while watching him touching her inappropriate places shamelessly.

She won't take it, I know it, her temperament ends him. I better wait when he needs to go to restroom to get himself together after she attacks. And there it is, her anger issue kicks in and makes her to punch him. I was waiting when she would erupt.