Above the Law

Chapter Twelve

Eden's resentment ebbed away slowly during training sessions after delivering a powerful blow to Yate's genitals that left him hunched and groaning. She didn't forgive him, but against her better judgement she trusted him. She knew she had to trust him. She wouldn't go out and tempt rapists if she thought he wouldn't show up and live up to his end of the deal. She needed to trust him, and she did. He gave her no reason to think otherwise.

Yates had given Eden a shiny pocket knife that looked suspiciously like the one he used to torture her, and then brief demonstration on how to handle it properly. She now found herself subconsciously flipping her knife open with the thumb stud whenever she was sitting alone in her room. Just as often, she found herself thinking of Parker and how he came to be the Shadow Killer—as the news was now calling him. She wondered if Yates had any influence in the name. He hadn't killed anyone in over a month, and the last time he'd been seen he'd tortured Eden's dad. The city was falling into a false sense of security by assuming his work was done. It hadn't even begun.

He was back to his kind eyed self, though he pushed her harder than ever in hand-to-hand combat. He said she was good at blocking hits, but hers would leave only a shadow of a bruise. She promptly reminded him of his whining moans after she'd kicked him in the balls and he clamped his mouth shut.

"So play to my strengths, I'm assuming?" she panted as she put her long hair in a tighter ponytail. "You're saying shouldn't go and punch the pig at my school who slaps my ass whenever he passes me?"

He stepped closer to her, eyes flaring. "How big is he?"

She considered for a moment, looking Yates up and down. "A little bigger than you, probably not as muscular though..." her words trailed off as she realized she was shamelessly checking him out.

"Then take him down," Yates said, like this was a no-brainer.

"But you said—"

"Eden, you can hold your own with me—"

"But I know you're not trying to hurt me, and I also know you're not putting everything you have into fighting me."

"Take him down," Yates repeated.

"But—"

"No buts, Eden. Take this bastard down." He was surprised that she hadn't said anything to him, and he was really surprised she let it happen often. She's wasn't the type to take things sitting down. He couldn't see her biting back whatever retort she'd yell at him, he couldn't see her letting him walk away unscathed. "Where's his body after he slaps you?"

She furrowed her brows together. "I don't... I don't understand what you mean."

"Is he in front of you after he slaps your ass, or does he retreat like a little bitch?"

"He's usually in front of me."

He smiled, his brown eyes shining mischievously. "Good."

Eden wore her tightest jeans and a sinful smile the next day.

She sat in history, her fury flaring when she saw the large bruise on Mrs. Whitney's left check. Why did no one in the staff do something? How many times had she said she'd fallen down the stairs? How many times had someone known the truth and sat back and done nothing? How many more beatings until it's not just bruises and broken ribs Mrs. Whitney receives from her husband?

The bell rang and class ended. Eden stalked up to Mrs. Whitney's desk, her eyes burning. Mrs. Whitney looked startled.

"Eden, are you okay?" she asked hesitantly.