[Chapter 9: Peeling the Paint One Wall at a Time]

     "I can take you to my house. You and Olivia can stay with me."

     I sigh, pulling my blanket around me. We are sitting in the living room watching TV. Well, just watching it. It's on mute, and on a commercial right now, so we aren't paying any attention to it.

     I don't know where Tate went, and I'm starting to get anxious. He'd been gone for over an hour and a half now.

     "I can't ask you to do that." I shake my head.

     Jaeger scoots closer to me, "But you're not asking, Rue. I'm telling you."

     "Shouldn't you be going home? We have school tomorrow, and it's like 12:30," I furrow my eyebrows, averting my attention to my fleece blanket.

     Jaeger chuckles, "You really want me out of here, don't you?"

     "Not really," I mumble.

     I mean, yeah, he probably shouldn't be here when Tate gets back, but I don't really want to be alone until then. It's probably the best for him to leave, though.

     "But," I continue, standing up. "You probably should go home and get some sleep. I'll most likely be asleep by the time you get home, anyway."

     Jaeger stands up, but a frown is on his mouth.

     "Don't worry about me," I give a small smile.

     Jaeger returns my gesture with a lopsided smile, and butterflies fill my stomach. He's suddenly hugging me, which doesn't help the butterflies in my stomach at all.

     "Be careful, okay?" He whispers into my hair. "Don't do or say anything that'll get you hurt."

     I instantly know he's talking about Tate. Tate won't do anything to me, will he?

     When Jaeger lets go, I notice his lip is bleeding again.

     "Your--"

     "Left-handers hit pretty hard," he chuckles again, his tongue swiping most of the blood off his lip..

     Again on the topic of why they hate each other so much. I'm not in the mood of arguing again, so I ignore it.

     "See ya later," I open the door.

     "See you tomorrow." Another lopsided smile. "I'll pick you up around 8."

     I nod and smile, "Thanks, pal."

     He chuckles as he leaves, and I wait until his footsteps are up the stairs and gone before shutting the door. The apartment is silent and dimly lit only in the living room with a floor lamp.

     I turn it off with a click of the knob, and head to bed. The bathroom light is still on, so I open the door to reach in to turn the light off.

     There are wrappers strewn all over the floor. Huh, that's weird. I thought I'd thrown those away.

     I grunt as I bend down and simply toss them into the trashcan. I look at myself in the full length mirror hanging on the door.

     My plain light blue t-shirt is covered with blood from both men, and I even have some on my cheek. My hair is a mess, and I barely have any makeup left on my face.

     The doorknob catches my eye, and soon my heart is racing. The metal is crushed, ridges on it from Tate's fingers. He couldn't have done that, could he? A regular person couldn't do that...

     They aren't human.

     Who isn't?

     Your friends.

     I scoff aloud, Yeah, and hippos are microwaves.

     They aren't from here, Anastasia.

     Neither am I.

     They aren't of this world.

     And then the mirror in front of me shatters.

Jaeger's POV 

     She basically pushes me out, but I leave. It isn't easy, but I leave her apartment.

     Instead of going home, though, I get in my car and park it a block away. Walking back, I spot Tate's ugly Wrangler down the road. Picking up the pace, I hurry to the building across from their apartment.

     The initial plan is to just stake out across from her apartment to keep an eye on her windows. Knowing Tate, he'd try to start something.

     I find the fire escape ladder hanging a good four feet above me. It's an easy jump to it, and I lug myself up to the roof.

     Hunkering down, I prepare to watch for the rest of the night.


Tate's POV

      I can't believe I said that. I've driven her right to Jaeger. I've pushed her away. I had to leave. Things would've gotten ugly between Jaeger and I if I hadn't.

     It's almost too much to be able to stand in one room without hitting him. The hate grows every time I see him with Rue. I'm supposed to be taking care of her. Not him.

     I pull to a stop in front of Falcon's Perch, the local bar, and sigh. Drinking usually makes the itchy feeling between my shoulder blades go away. It makes all the bad thoughts disappear. It keeps hell at bay.

     A tap on my window makes me jump and knee the wheel. I groan until I look up and see Mitchell peering behind the glass to me. His gold eyes gleam even though there isn't any light on his face.

     "I was wondering if you were going to show up." His heavy British accent coats every word.
    
     "Who knows what would've happened if I hadn't," I mutter as I get out, then slam the door behind me.

     I know I probably shouldn't be leaving Rue alone with Jaeger, but I know he isn't going to try anything with her yet. Not until she falls in love with him. Then he'll have her wrapped around his finger, and keeping her safe will be the hardest thing to to for me.

     Mitch claps a hand on my shoulder, making me wince.

     "Oh," he sucks in a breath and raises his eyebrows. "Judging by the look of your face, clothes, and body posture, I'd say you're here because of Rue."

     "Is it that obvious?" I squint up at the moon, shoving my fists into my jacket pockets.

     Mist has started to settle in, and a sick, musty scent of a forest green blows past us. The moon, large and full, shines down at us with an eerie blue tint. Shit.

     "Well--"

     "Shh," I cut him off with my left hand. "What's the date?"

     Mitch scratches his black hair and sighs, "The eighteenth."

     "Oh no," I murmur. "No, nononono."

     Mitch checks his watch as I pace, "Ten minutes until one, chief. I don't know how you're gonna do this."

     "Trust me," I come to a halt in front of the door. "If I can handle all God's children, Satan's shouldn't be much worse."

     "Tate my friend," Mitch says, opening the door for me. "You're in for a treat."

     Clattering glass and scooting chair-noises hit me as soon as I step in, and the cigarette smoke makes me wrinkle my nose. Gruff laughter comes from a table in the far back, but the tables around it join in, too.

     "Table for three, please," Mitch says cheerfully to the waitress.

     She bobs her head, making her black hair bounce. Her eyes are golden, like Mitch's, and they glow like cat eyes in the dim light of the bar. The vibe she gives off is annoyed, but she smiles almost genuinely as we make our way to the table.

      She's a demon, nonetheless, but she isn't a corrupt one.

     "Tate!" My name ricochets off the walls.

     By the Angel, I pray. Let me walk out of here alive so I can get home.



Rue's POV

    
     I jolt awake when I hear the door close. Tate's finally home?

     The time on my alarm clock reads 2:35 AM. Why the heck is he home so late?

     Gingerly, I remove the covers from my legs. I have little cuts on my fingers from picking up glass, and all my fingertips are covered in Band-Aids.

     "Rue?" Tate's voice is just a croak coming from the living room or kitchen.

     I open my door, "Tate?" I keep walking, "Why are you home so--"

     Suddenly a hand is at my throat, and I'm shoved against the refrigerator. The face staring menacingly at me is definitely not Tate's. This man's eyes are gold, reflective like a cat's, and they almost look like liquid. It's hard to look away; I feel drawn to them like a moth to light.

     He has stubble on his chin, trailing up his jawline. His hair is black and cut short, probably so he can show off all of the scars on it. The man's nose is prominent, but doesn't stick out like a bird's beak. If not for the situation, I probably would find him attractive.

     Choking, I grab his hand to try and pull it off. It doesn't work, and he seems to just be squeezing harder, so drive my fist into his face as hard as I possibly could.

     Instantly his hand is gone, and the pressure's gone, too. As soon as my feet hit the carpet, I'm scrambling for the door, coughing and hacking.

     The door swings open by itself, and I run smack into a rock hard chest. I back up, finding a guy exactly like the first staring at me. At first, I think it's the same guy, but this one doesn't have stubble. Apparently I just ran into a lovely couple of twins.

     He smirks down at me as I back up, only to bump into his twin's chest. I slump, defeated with the fact that there is nowhere I could go. The one behind me grabs my elbows, and I don't fight.

     "Go get the little one," Mr. I'm-Going-To-Grab-You tells the guy in front of me.

     Fear spikes my veins, "No!" I whisper-hiss. I lunge for the guy. Surprised, the man holding me lets go, allowing me to tackle the guy who was supposed to get Olivia.

     "Leave. Her. Alone," I hiss into his face. His eyes are probably as wide as his brothers, but the golden color isn't as lulling as before. Apparently when someone is über pissed the hypnotizing eyes don't help much.

     "Marcus..." The man's voice raises, his eyes still wide and staring at me. It's almost as if he's afraid of me.

     I point a finger close to his face, "Do. Not. Touch. Her."

     "Micah, she's like two pounds. Push her off," Marcus's voice gets quiet as he walks away.

     Desperate to keep Olivia safe, I sprint after Marcus and push past him. Guarding the door with my body, I stand strong.

     "Why are you still in here?" He asks, annoyed.

     "Excuse me?" I scoff. "I live here."

     "Micah! Take her outside!" He shoves me to the carpet and stalks into my room.

     I land roughly on my chest with a huff, and the wind is knocked out of me. I stumble into the kitchen, thinking maybe a glass of water would help the burning in my throat.

     "What's wrong?" Micah grabs my shoulders.

     Huh. How weird that one of my kidnappers would be concerned about my well being.

     No breath fills my lungs, and suddenly I'm plunging to the floor.


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Sorry it took about a million years for me to post. My writer's block was almost as bad as my other.
Crazy twist, eh? ;)

[Chapter 8: Taking Sides]

     Exhale. Inhale. Open the damn door. Why can't I open the door? Oh, maybe because the guy behind it could kick me out of his apartment and threaten to take my little sister away. But why would he do that?

     "Tate?" My voice cracks as I softly knock on the fake wooden door.

     All the doors in this apartment are fake wood. Well, in a way it's still wood, but... You know what I mean. The outside of it is plastic and the inside is just layers of pressed plywood, blah, blah, blah. If you can't tell, when I'm really nervous I get out of hand.

     A muffled reply comes from behind the door, so I slowly open it.

     Tate's sitting on the toilet (lid down, of course), already wiping the blood off his knuckles and face (apparently Jaeger knocked him a good one in the nose). His chestnut hair is all screwed up, making him look like a scruffy puppy, almost. His cheek has a gash just on the bone, and the bleeding seems to have gone down just a bit.

     The stained, and ruined, white wash cloth sits in the bathtub, so I decide to leave it there. As soon as I get up to throw all the garbage from this--wrappers, wipes, anything else--I'll be sure to grab it.

     "Oh... Darn," I bite my lip and shuffle around in the tiny bathroom. There wasn't a chair for me to sit in.

     Tate must know what I'm thinking about, because he sits on the edge of the bathtub, leaving his seat unoccupied.

     I nod a thank you to him and sit down, turning to my right where my First Aid kit is. Disinfectant wipes are the first things I grab, then butterfly bandages.

     "This might sting a little," I murmur after unwrapping a wipe. Gently, I scrub most of the blood off his face. He doesn't even wince.

     "I'm sorry," Tate whispers, looking directly into my eyes. We aren't as close as Jaeger and I were, and I'm deeply grateful.

     "Don't worry about it," I mutter, throwing away the my second wipe and moving onto the butterflies. It's a bit of a struggle just to open one, so Tate takes it from me, opens it, and gives it back.

     "How can you say that?" His voice is a hiss-whisper.

     I simply shrug, "I'll clean up the mess."

     His skin is warm against my fingertips as I apply two bandages. After wiping his gash with another wipe, I put a large bandage over it. Thankfully he had gotten his nose to stop bleeding after I walked in.

     Suddenly he pulls his face back, getting a straight look at my face, "No, you won't. Plus.. Rue.." He sighs, running his bloody hand through his hair.

     "Olivia saw us. She.. You don't know how bad it is that she saw that."

     "I told her you guys were wrestling," I let go of his warm hand. "She'll be fine."

     "No she won't," he says quickly and stands up. "Soon she'll be 'wrestling'," he puts air-quotes around 'wrestling.' "With friends at school."

     I stand up too, but fall about half a foot shorter than Tate.

     "Look," I throw away the wrappers and wash cloth in the trashcan under the sink. "She'll be okay. I'll talk to her about it, and everything will be okay."

    "No, you look--"

     "Hey!" I plant my hands on my hips. "Aren't you like a physician's assistant or something? Do want me to do this or not?"

     He glares at me, but nods.

     We sit back down, him sitting on the edge of the tub while I sit back on the toilet.

     "What's with the hate between you and Jaeger?" I blurt out. I don't know-- Yes I do. I know exactly why I asked that. They absolutely hate each other, it's completely obvious.

     He barks a harsh laugh and shakes his head, "If you only knew.."

     I glare at him, "Yeah, if only."

     Tate shakes his head again and thrusts his left hand at me, "Please, do what you will, just make it stop bleeding."

     "Oh?" I roughly grab it, causing him to hiss in pain. "So I can burn it to make it stop bleeding?"

     "Rue!" Tate exclaims through clinched teeth while I reach under the sink and grab a candle lighter. "Stop!"

     "Tell me," I hiss.

     He tries to pull his hand away, which only pulls me into him, sending us into the tub. Thankfully, I land on top, so I take the advantage and pin him.

     "Get off me," his voice is low.

     I scoff, "Not until you tell me."

     "I can kick you off me without even trying. You'd hit the door."

     Anxiousness tries to invade, but I kick it out, "Then do it."

     Tate sighs and looks away, "No."

     "Tate," I whine, turning his face to me. "Tell me why you two hate each other so much."

     Suddenly his left hand grabs my wrist, and I'm slid to the bottom of the tub. How did he do that so fast?

     "No," he whispers and climbs out.

     I clamber out after him and stand with a huff.

     "I'll take Olivia, and we'll leave." It all came out before I knew what I was doing.

     His hand squeezes the doorknob tightly, making his knuckles bleed even more. His blood is all over my shirt, and so is Jaeger's. A wrenching noise comes from the doorknob, and it begins to shake.

     My next words come out as fast as my last, "I can't live with someone who keeps secrets and lies."

     "Oh?" He's in my face, literally. His nose and forehead are pressed against mine. Something in his eyes spikes fear in my veins.

     My feet subconsciously take a step back, but he steps forward.

     "Doesn't that describe your life?" Tate hisses in my face. "You sleep on lies and bathe in secrets. Don't tell me you can't live with someone who keeps them."

     I turn away, inhaling sharply. He's completely right, he got it to a tee. Soon tears are running down my face.

     "Rue--"

     "I--uh," I sniffle and wipe my eyes. "I gotta go."

     Tate reaches for me, but I shy away and run out the door to the kitchen. Jaeger is sitting on the chair he was on last time I saw him, fiddling with his fingers. He'd probably been listening to us fight.

     Suddenly he stands up, grabbing my arms and pulling me into him. He angles me away from Tate, probably sending deadly glares him.

     My face is hidden in Jaeger's shirt, my tears staining it. I don't want to look up. I'd see the face of the guy who knew me too well, who could break me with personal information.

     "Rue," his voice his pleading, which makes me dig my face deeper into Jaeger's chest. "I didn't mean it. I was just mad.. I-I didn't know what I was saying--"

     "You were right," I shake my head, voice muffled. "It's all true. I'm just a burden on your shoulders. We'll be gone by Sunday."

     Jaeger's arms stiffen around me.

     "No, Rue--"

     "Tate," Jaeger's voice is expressionless, and his chest vibrates as he talks. "Stop."

     I hear Tate sigh, and the large apartment door is opened. It closes with a thud, and so does my heart.