In The Arms Of Danger [Sequel to Make You Mine]

14:

14:

 

Making 'bad people' seem human is the key to making them really scary.
                       

                                                                                                   -Tom Noonan

Emotions are just as dangerous as the people who possess them. Emotions are an arsenal of powerful weaponry in our psyche. Emotions over power thoughts because they control our actions. It's like a domino affect. From blissful to brokenhearted, the way we feel can dictate our actions. And for every action is a reaction. I'm just hoping my emotions don't get in the way of my actions.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

My hands keep stuffing articles of clothing into my over-sized bag until I touch something soft. Danny's foot.

“Ava, I asked you a question,”

“I told what I'm doing. You can accept it or not,”

I go to lift up my sleeping toddler but to my surprise a firm grip on my arms stops me. I'm about to tell him to let me go but his overbearing voice interrupts me.

“They say it's easy to fall in love, but harder to stay in love.”

“I'm sure you can guess that last part's never been my problem,” he finishes.

“Well everyone isn't you.” I shrug out of him before leaning down to lift Danny.

“I know because I'd never be a coward and run,”

“Look, I've had enough of your bullshit and I'm not staying to hear more,”

“What's the real problem, babe? Are you mad because I didn't fuck you.”

A shiver flows through me like an electric current from his seductive whisper.

“Last time I checked your definition of fuck was rape.” I glare hard at his lax posture. His hands are no longer on me, they're in his pockets. His entire collard shirt is ruffled from our previous actions.

“Is that what you think of me?” his reverberating chuckle fills my ears and makes me flush with fury. None of that is funny. Even if he did get off of me after five minutes of making out. None of it is in the least bit funny. The heart dropping fear I felt was all because of his sick, twisted games.

“I was trying to teach you a lesson,”

“Which was?” Why am I still giving him the time of day?

“It's simple, stop talking to every fucking thing with a dick.”

Here it comes. The once hidden jealousy. It's like a mask he wears. One day he's red and the next he's blue. It's not making sense. The purpose of counseling is to progress, not regress.

“No, you have to stop being such an insecure asshole.” I quip sharply. My hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, making it easier to see because my hair isn't constantly in my face. The comfort of the sweats and loose tee keep my bloated stomach from showing easily.

He shakes his head pitifully. The look alone causes me to narrow my eyes. I've always hated sympathy.

“And you have to stop being so naive,”

Danny's head is on my shoulder while my arm is under his rump. He sighs contentedly because this is how I would hold him to rock him to sleep after a nightmare.

“Put him down so we can talk,” chills run down my spine when I feel the cool breeze of air from his nostrils. As long as I've been standing here, I didn't even see Ian walk toward me. His arms engulf my body as he pulls me in.