Surge (79 page)

“No, she doesn’t like the sound,” I answer when Cory still doesn’t get it. “So, it wasn’t anything you were doing wrong, it’s just that she was afraid of the gun.”

“And how the hell do you know that?” Cory asks. “You’ve only been teaching her for a few days, when we were teaching her for months.”

“Actually, I figured it out weeks ago,” I counter and feel a little but smug about that. “I noticed her flinching was the cause of the bullet going wild, so I made a comment about her being afraid of the gun.” I look at Olivia with a question in my eyes, she nods to say that I can continue. “You know about her mom.” Cory’s face fills with understanding, as he nods and looks at Olivia. Cupping her cheek, he crouches a little and lifts her chin slightly to be able to meet his eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell us? We could have let you use my earmuffs.” Olivia mouths that
‘She didn’t want to seem weak.’
Cory shakes his head at her in denial. “Travis and I never thought you were weak. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever known.” She gives him a doubtful look. “Who dropped out at seventeen, and got her GED so that she could help support her family? Who passed up a full scholarship so that she could take care of her mom? And who escaped from hell and found me? You are strong, and Travis would be damn proud of you if he were here to see you now.”

“R-really?” Olivia asks aloud.

When Cory nods, she gives him a watery smile and jumps up so that she can reach his neck and hug him. This seems like a personal moment, and I’ve already stayed past my welcome, so I turn away from the duo and walk toward the stairs. Jogging up to the kitchen, I continue on past the empty parlor and jog upstairs. A glance at my watch says it’s eleven, so most likely everyone’s gone to sleep already. At the landing, I hear voices coming from the left and head in that direction. The door across from Tommy’s where I find John, the twins, Whit, Akio and Mike.

“What’s going on?” I ask the now quiet room.

“We were just going over the new map,” John answers.

He then points to the paper folded out in front of him on the coffee table. It’s an office/den that they’re in, so there’s a computer on a desk in the corner and a couch angled toward the television. Those who could fit are on the three seater couch, leaving John, Oscar and Carlos sitting on the floor and all are centered around the map.

“Why?”

“Olivia’s good enough to travel now,” Carlos replies.

“And Tommy’s ready to leave,” Oscar adds.

“And you know this, how?”

“I talked to Tommy,” Whitney says. “He told me that he’s ready when we are.”

“And I cleared Olivia for the car ride,” Akio answers.

“She just had a friggin straw pulled out of her throat less than twelve hours ago,” I retort. “How can you clear her fit for travel? Never mind ask her if she’s well enough herself.”

“I’m a doctor,” the asswipe counters.

“With poor bedside manner,” I snap. “What about her pneumothorax? You made her strip because you said her lungs sounded off. Was that just bull shit to get a peek at her chest, you sick fuck?”

“No, I rechecked them while you were cooking, and they’re clear,” he says with a glare at me. “But I’ll keep an eye on them over the next few days just to be sure.”

“Well, I’m not moving an inch from this house until Olivia tells me that she feels that way herself.”

“I-I’m o-k-kay,” an awkward rasp tells me. I turn to face Olivia at the door with Cory behind her.

“You don’t sound it,” I say. Olivia points to Akio.

“She needs to retrain the muscles,” Akio explains. “If this were before the infestation, she would have needed speech therapy. Since that’s impossible, I’ve given her a few techniques to try on her own. She should be annunciating her words fluently as soon as the swelling goes down and the hole recloses.”

“So, you’re okay to move?” I ask Olivia and she nods. “You have no pain, can run five miles straight, and fight off wheezers without pausing to pant out breaths.” She gives me a firm nod. “Prove it.”

Olivia curls her finger over her shoulder, wanting me to follow her. I do and she jogs down to our room. Before I reach the door, Olivia comes out in her full leather gear from gloves to boots, and machete in hand. When she goes to brush by me, I catch her arm.

“Not that way,” I tell her. “I don’t want you going out there until I think that you could handle it.”

“How the hell is she supposed to show you otherwise if you won’t let her leave the house?” John asks.

“She could do a couple of training exercises in the basement,” Cory proposes when I don’t respond right away.

Olivia nods and I let her arm go to follow her down stairs. I hear several pairs of steps following behind us, but I pay them no attention as I follow that woman on a mission in front of me. Passing down the hallway and through the kitchen, she ducks into the door that leads to the basement and jogs down the steps.

When I reach the bottom, I see Olivia pushing the table we have shooting practice at over against the wall. The finished basement is pretty big since it’s just one huge and open space with a bathroom in the corner, so we’ll have plenty of room to do whatever it is she’s planning. Once the table is out of the way, Olivia walks over to her CD player and flips it on. Green Day’s “Brain Stew" comes blasting out of the speakers. Curling her gloved finger at me, Olivia bounces on her toes and rolls her head side to side. Seeing her grin, I’m actually a little afraid that I’m about to have my ass handed to me by a pint sized songbird. Not that I would ever let it show on my face, instead, I grin right back.

“You sure you wanna do this?” I ask and she nods. “I don’t want to hurt you, it goes against my rules of not hitting a girl.”

“Believe me, you won’t be hitting her,” John remarks.

I flip him off and hear several voices laugh. I don’t look over to see who followed, but I know that it was at least John and Cory since I heard their distinct laughs amongst the mix. Shaking out my own shoulders, I walk toward my opponent. I have a foot in height on her and at least sixty pounds, there’s no way in hell that I’ll be using any of that against her. I’m just looking to make her sweat and see how her stamina is. Olivia asks if I’m ready, and I give her a nod.

Before I can blink, Olivia dips down and sweeps my legs out from under me. I land on my back and the breath rushes out of my lungs, but I push myself up. Still struggling to catch my breath, I curl my hand at her to say I’m good. Olivia shrugs and goes to grab my arm for a flip, using her own technique against her, I twist and roll her over my back and she lands on the ground. I place my knee on her chest to pin her and look up at her face.

Instead of seeing defeat, I see triumph in those grey irises. Smirking as she does it, Olivia hooks her leg over my back, crosses her left arm over her chest and shoves it into the left side of my neck as she flips us. Her knees immediately pin my arms down as she straddles my chest. I believe that we were in a similar position earlier, and it was near impossible to get out of then, as it is now. I twist my arms this way and that, making no progress.

“G-give?” Olivia asks and I shake my head.

I hear more chuckles from the peanut gallery, and that gives me the push I need to dismount her. Using my feet, I push off the ground and throw my right shoulder forward. Olivia’s eyes widen a little bit as I wrap an arm around her waist to soften the fall as she lands on her back. Pulling my arm free, I catch both of her wrists and hold them above her head.

“Give?” I ask.

Olivia doesn’t give me a verbal response, but I sure as fuck get a physical one. She swings an elbow wide, catching me in the nose as a knee comes up between my legs. Letting go as quickly as possible, I roll off of her to cup my stinging balls. Jesus Christ, did that fucking kill. I don’t even notice the blood dripping from my nose, until Olivia pinches the bridge.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” she rasps out.

Olivia’s breathing is a little fast and she’s trying to say more but it’s lost in the pants. I can feel her hand shaking on my nose, but I’m a little busy trying to make sure my balls are still attached and that they’re not exploded in a bloody mass inside my pants. Junior has officially receded and become a vagina. I have a freaking labia! I don’t want a fucking labia! I like my cock n’ balls.

“Jared, you alright?” John asks. I keep my eyes closed tight and bite my lip on a curse as I nod.

“I think it’s more like
‘Janet’
right now,” Carlos says.

“
‘Janie’s Got a Gun,’
” Cory starts singing Aerosmith’s song. I’m not that injured that I can’t free a hand to flip him off.

“I think it’s safe to say that Olivia’s good for travel,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, she did just hand Jared his balls on a platter,” John agrees. “So, I think that she could handle a car ride.”

“O-out!” Olivia shouts.

It could have only been a shout with how loud she said it, but it still comes out a little breathy. I don’t know if it’s because she told them to, or if it’s the fierce expression on her face when I open my eyes, but four pairs of feet immediately tread up the stairs. Once the door slams up top, Olivia’s face softens as she looks down at me.

“Y-you okay?” Olivia ask and I nod. “I-I’m so-orry.”

“It’s fine,” I breathe out. She shakes her head as she unzips her coat. Lifting my t-shirt out of the way, Olivia begins unwrapping an ace bandage from her chest. “What the hell are you doing?”

I catch her hand before she flashes me. Junior is in no state to be becoming hard as a rock, and with her stripping off the final layers covering her chest, he’s going to be getting stiff, and I’m positive that it would be painful for him to do so right now. Olivia uses her other hand and continues unwrapping. Once she has one of them off, she pulls the shirt back down and holds it up to my nose.

Understanding that she wasn’t giving me a peep show in return for unmanning me both relieves and irritates me at the same time. Relieves me that I’m not getting action out of pity, and pisses me off because I’m depraved enough to think that she would ever do such a thing. My nose didn’t bleed much and is already stopped flowing, so I just swipe away what’s remaining under my nose and ball the ruined fabric in my fist.

“I freaked,” she whispers.

I look up to meet her eyes and see that they’re filled with some left over fear and remorse. Pulling off her glove, Olivia points at her wrists. I rub my fingers over the scars and remember the position she told me that she was bound in. Spread eagle, which is what I essentially held her down in.

“I’m sorry, I forgot,” I tell her. Olivia shakes her head at me.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispers. I notice that when she keeps her voice low, she doesn’t have as much difficulty, which I’m guessing is why she’s using it. Olivia points at her head. “I went somewhere else for a minute and my crazy ass took it out on you.”

“You aren’t crazy,” I retort and tilt her chin from looking down at her folded hands. “I tripped one of your triggers, it won’t let it happen again.” She nods. “You know that I would never hurt you, right?”

“Of course,” she replies with strength and rubs her thumb along my burned brow. “You have honest eyes. It was the first thing I noticed about you.” Olivia flashes me a smile as she taps her pointer finger on my lips. “Then there was that mouth of yours. It convinced me along with those open eyes of yours that it would be okay to trust you, even when my brain kept screaming at me to run.”

“I’m glad you ignored your brain and went with your instincts,” I say.

“Me too, Mouth, me too.”

<~~~<~~~
~~~>~~~
>

“So, you wanna tell me about how a mafia boss factors into the mix?”

Now that the room’s cleared, and my balls no longer feel like they’ve exploded; it’s more of a slow burn, but they’ll live, thank god. Anyway, now that the room’s cleared out, I figured that it was time to get back to the point of me rehashing nightmares with her during training. It’s simple really, I want her to channel all of that anger at her target to take her mind away from the fear of the gun.

Olivia says that she can tell me, but her voice may break at points.

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I actually noticed that if you keep it at a whisper, you sound fine.”

“I’ll try that then,” she whispers. “
‘The Don’
is the nickname I gave Cole’s right hand man. He reminded me of Marlon Brando in
The Godfather
, so that’s what I referred to him as, even though I knew his name was Tim. Anyway, Don is a douche bag who would have jumped off a bridge if Cole told him to. He kind of reminds me of Chelsea with the way he went along with whatever he was told to.” I nod and she clears her throat a little bit.

“Do you need water or something?” Olivia shakes her head.

“No, just not used to talking yet,” she answers. “I’ll be alright soon enough.” I nod since she’s the one that’s done this before, so she knows what to expect. “Don didn’t do much of anything to me but hose me off once a day. But Eddy, that fucker did plenty.” Olivia pulls her coat off and lifts my t-shirt before pointing to one of the triangular scars. “These were from an iron. He’d heat it over the fire and then hold it on my skin. When I refused to scream, he left it there longer, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction, so I took the burn as opposed to his smug smile.”