Aero
One I looked forward to breaking and bringing to reality—that is until I realized the inevitable. If I’m not careful, a woman with the mindset and strength of Briony will break me. She has the power to tear me to fucking pieces, and the masochist in me will gladly allow every part of my destruction.
She’s always been my little doll to protect. My promise I’d kept safe from a distance, until that distance became the barrier my soul craved to break. But Briony Strait is just a stray like me. A mistake reinvented in ways that made her existence acceptable. I watched from afar all these years when I could, ensuring she was taken care of, until the inevitable call came through a week ago. The eternal stain of condemnation was showing, and it was a stain they quickly wanted to scrub out.
Just like that, she went from a prominent, respected woman in the community to the ticking time bomb that threatened their demise. So alike we are.
I gave her some space after she’d hit me, when all I really wanted to do was grab a fistful of hair and tell her all the ways she better get on her knees and start listening to me. But Briony isn’t the type to sit and obey. Throughout her life, she’s only done so because she knew no other way. Survival in the world in which she resided.
I’ve given her a glimpse of her freedom, a life of uninhibited desires and standing up to the powers that be. My little firecracker is about to light up this world and find comfort in her revenge.
When she’s ready.
And she’s so close.
But this reality of hers I’ve held secret has the potential to break her past the point of repair. I have to be careful with this fragile flower. Her petals are too fresh to hold her bloom.
I’d had another dream again while resting beside her. The kind that makes me despise a gentle hand. The kind that makes me irate with the urge to erase the past. Memories of mind-fucks meant to deceive children into trusting authority. Memories that left a man like me craving pain and punishment rather than caring adoration.
I fucked out my frustrations. I took from Briony and used her to erase the stains of my own misfortunes. Having her beneath me saved me the trouble of beating my head into a wall to silence the voices of the ghosts of my past. That or take another life. I needed her more than she’d ever realize.
Feeling her let go around me is my only heaven. I’ll forever worship the deity that is her warm, wet sanctuary. Finding euphoria like that is a dangerous temptation for a man like me. One taste of Briony and I’m on my knees, ready to kill or be killed for my queen.
She fell back asleep after I cleaned her up, and I sat and studied her like I used to in secret. Unlike my tortured mind, peaceful thoughts seemed to occupy her dreams, and seeing that lip curl into a little half-smile made me crazier than I’d ever thought. What did she dream of? What gave Briony peace of mind? I knew it couldn’t be me. I’m too vile and fucked up to bring anyone genuine joy.
I got the urge to tie her up, keeping her restrained and fucking her endlessly until I got confirmation I’d knocked her up. I wanted to fuck her until I saw her belly form a tiny bump and her tits become swollen and pained with the evidence of my claiming.
She’d find her own way to kill me before willingly allowing that to happen. Or I’d plant her key to freedom again just so we could fight like animals before fucking like them.
I left her before the sun rose, allowing her to rest before needing to dispose of Saint’s Jeep properly. I couldn’t think of a better getaway vehicle than my sweet half-brother’s treasured Jeep. This bitch is going to burn to the ground, and I’ll enjoy the shit out of it.
On my hike back hours later, through the twenty-five acres of wooded land I’ve come to call home, I wipe my forearm over my brow, collecting the beads of sweat that had formed since the sun had risen.
Passing through the vibrant sounds of the forest, my ears perk up as I hear one that doesn’t align. Up ahead, through the brush and trees, I see a dark-haired girl facing a tree about three yards from her. I plant myself back against a large maple, folding my arms over my chest as I study her curiously from afar.
She’s holding a knife in the air, wearing nothing but a white tank top with matching white shorts. My brows lower as I watch her stalk towards the tree before her, and with the blade held high, her white-knuckled grip on the handle, she stabs it. Piercing the bark with her blade, she holds the end, breathing hard before ripping it from the tree and repeating the process.
She stabs the same place on the tree repeatedly, screaming out as her forearm collides with the bark that cuts free, the blade sinking deeper with each forceful gut.
She’s murdering this tree. Attempting to end a life before her, needing it to bleed, needing it to take its last breath for her own satisfaction and release. Her own revenge.
Her frustrations get the better of her as she cries. She’s falling apart. I approach her as her little hand finally releases the blade, her palm slowly trailing down the damaged bark, and she sinks towards the ground.
Catching her beneath her arms, I hold her back to my chest, keeping her upright.
“Why?!” she screams, a shrill of pain leaving her throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?!”
My forehead wrinkles in confusion as I grip the flesh of her hip with one hand, the other also draped around her. She flails against my hold, fighting me as her flimsy little tank top rises up her stomach.
“How could it be true?!” she screams, covering her face with her hands.
My eyes fall to the forest floor near the base of the tree she tried killing. The envelope. The one from the safe I’d forced her to break into. I forced her to find her own truth, unbeknownst to her. She found it. Briony must have searched my place high and low since my departure this morning like the inquisitive little shit she is. I should’ve known. She found the manila envelope I’d taken from Alastor’s office. The envelope filled with the secrets of the past she’s yet to learn.
She knows.
“Shhh… Briony,” I whisper in warning, holding her firmly, trying to calm her. “Listen—”
“Fuck you!” she interrupts, before sending elbows into my sides while kicking wildly in my hold. “Fuck you, Aero! You knew! You knew this whole time, and you said nothing! Nothing!” she screams, launching herself forward until she grasps the handle of the blade from the tree.
Ripping it from the bark, she brings it down immediately to cut me, maybe even stab me, but I release my hold on her. She spins to face me, her loose black hair slapping her in the face as her chest heaves.
“If you’re going to do it, at least have the balls to look me in the eye,” I spit out, stepping forward.
Her face is wet with tears, her nose runny, and her lips puffy and red. Her pink, fleshy nipples press against the soft fabric of her top, and I have to bite back the urge to rip it down the middle, releasing those perfect handfuls of velvety flesh, pinning her body against the rough bark of the tree, allowing it to tear into the soft skin of her back as I make my way between my legs again. I hate that I love everything about how she looks at this moment. I hate that my desire to fuck those tears from her soul is the only thought running through my mind. Not sympathy. Not the need to comfort.
This is raw, unfiltered pain before me. The pain of realizing you aren’t who you thought you were. The pain of knowing you don’t belong. That you never did. The pain of knowing you are ultimately on your own in this world of lies, deception, and cruelty.
“It’s time you start talking,” she threatens with a cracked voice, stalking towards me until she’s pointing my blade at my neck. “I want answers, Aero. Explain what’s in that envelope and why my name is all over the inside of it.”
I tip my head back, giving her my neck. She pushes me in the chest with her other hand, backing me into the tree that became her recent victim.
“I’ll start talking,” I begin, leaning my head back against the tree. “But only when you wipe those useless fucking tears from your face and learn to fight back.”
She glares at me, lost in her hatred, a victim to the pain. I see her breaking beneath her flesh. She wants to melt into this earth, give up and let go. Lose herself in her sorrows. But those embers burn within her. They won’t allow her to succumb to nothing. When she internalizes her pain, she only burns red hot.
“Throw.” I nod my head. “Aim and hit the space above my right shoulder, and I’ll answer a question.”
“W-what?” She shakes her head. “You can’t be serious.”
“Pinch-grip the blade. Inside of your fingertips and your thumb,” I instruct. “Square your shoulders to me. Keep a firm wrist with your elbow tucked and keep the motion fluid as you release towards your target.”
“No,” she says quickly through clenched teeth, shaking her head. “No, I won’t play your games anymore.”
“Throw the fucking knife, Briony,” I snap, taunting her. “Throw it to ensure you’ll get your answers, or you get nothing more from me. I’m the only one alive who knows your secrets and is willing to tell them. So make your choice.”
Her nostrils flare as her other hand curls into a fist near her hip. “You evil bastard.”
I can’t help but smirk. Words like that are foreplay for a man like me. The pain of the inevitable truth behind the word bastard sends a blow to my gut, tearing through my emotional core, sending blood to my groin. If she wants her truth, she’ll be forced to learn to protect herself by the brutal assassin himself.
I rest my head back casually, cocking a brow as she wipes the tears from her face, angrily tossing them to the dirt beneath us, pushing through her pain to find the fight within her. There you are, baby.
“Fuck me up, darling,” I say, staring dangerously into her timid eyes as she squares herself off and I await my fate. “It’s your only chance.”
