Hurt

by Bryn Wolfe

With a wince of pain, Bryn writhed to try and get away from the person hurting her. If she had to guess she would say it was Joel, merely because of the style of the way he was inflicting pain.

"You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Brynny," came the soft drawl of the knife wielding sadist. Yes, it was definitely Joel. "After a while, once you ran off like the coward bitch you are, I had to find a new girl to share my love with. But now that you’re back again I realize that I would have never replaced you. You’re just so...fun."

As he once again became silent, focusing entirely on the matter at hand – or rather figuring out where to slice her skin next – Bryn’s mind wandered to the only person she could think of that would sort of take her mind off the pain, yet inflict pain in itself. Drago. Drago, the love of her life, who she had caused so much pain. He’d gone off to kill himself because of her.

******

"I saw the funniest sight today at the bar and I’m still not over it," Tino said cheerfully as he pieced together a clarinet. "Care to venture a guess?" All Bryn could do was glare at him, not even wanting to think about what he could have seen that he would deem funny. "It was your knight in shining armor. Drunker than...well, me. It was the funniest damn thing..." At that point, he started playing some awful tune, if you could even classify it as a tune.

As Bryn tried to tune out his screeching clarinet skills, her heart sunk. Drago had been more drunk that Tino, and that was her fault. Technically it was Jacob’s fault, but it led back to her and that caused her sadness.

"I can see by the look on your face you know exactly who’s fault it is," Tino said as he paused momentarily from his playing, going right back to it when he had finished speaking.

"Shut up," she murmured sadly. He laughed and played what sounded like a mournful note.

"You know what he kept saying? "She has left me." It was beautiful."

"Shut up!" she raised her voice, feeling more guilty and sad in general as the moments went on. Unfortunately, every time she spoke he was playing his terrible clarinet.

"Why? Are we feeling guilty?" he taunted. "Guilty that he was so far gone I had to carry him back?" She couldn’t control her tears anymore, she couldn’t even bring herself to yell at him.

"I think my favorite part was that even as drunk as he was getting, he kept on refusing those other beautiful girls because you might come back. You might forgive him. All the while, I knew better."

"I hate you," she cried through her tears. "I hate you. Leave him alone...leave me alone...just go away."

"That’s sad, because I love the both of you so much," he said with a grin. "And after all I’ve done for you two. Not a word of gratitude, just a go away. Ungrateful wench."

"All you’ve done for us?! You tried to kill him! You’ve done nothing but torture me..." She glared at him as he glared at her, still playing his stupid clarinet.

"You know nothing of the relationship I have with that boy," he said, pausing in his making of unnaturally bad music. "Besides, if I hadn’t been there tonight...well, I hate to think of what could have happened."

"Fine, I know nothing of your relationship with him," she snapped icily. "I know plenty, however, of your relationship with me. Gratitude? Hell no."

"Oh, come on. You can’t really say that you don’t like me."

"I can and I will. I don’t like you!" He just sent a glare her way and went back to playing his clarinet, seemingly worse on purpose, just to irritate her. While he was amusing himself with being terrible, she was working to get the bindings off her hands. "You’re really no good at that, you know!" she yelled over the din he was making when she could stand it no longer.

"That’s not the point, my love." She felt a twinge in her stomach and glared at him.

"Don’t call me that! Don’t ever call me that!"

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t."

"Just...because!" True, it wasn’t a good reason, but she didn’t have one to tell him. She just couldn’t stand him calling her all those awful pet names.

"But you are my love," he said with a snicker. "Why shouldn’t I call you it?"

"I am not your love," she retorted through clenched teeth.

"Why say such things when you know they aren’t true?"

"Why do you?" she shot back.

"Why don’t you be quiet before I have to do something I will regret," he growled.

"You don’t really regret much, though, so who knows what that would be..."

"I hate to hear what you’re insinuating," he said, looking angrily at her. She just glared back, and he continued with his clarinet playing, much to her disappointment. Finally, she slipped her wrists out of their binding. "I think I could eventually become good at this," he said with a self-assuring nod.

"Very doubtful."

"What would you know?"

"Not much, but enough to know that you’re no good," she said snippishly.

"I could get better," he responded defensively.

"Sure." He turned in his chair a little, so he could keep a better watch on her as he played. She shivered, hating to have him look at her so intently. He peeked out the window. "Ah..." he said with a triumphant look. "There goes lover boy. Off to another bar, no doubt. I hope." Her face fell, sadness overwhelming her. "I am so pleased that you are aware that you took a good moral man and made him a drunkard," he said with a smile.

"Stop that," she said quietly, shaking her head.

"It makes it so much easier for me that he’s destroying himself," he said, completely ignoring her. "I don’t have to provoke him to fight me or try and poison him or anything like that. He can kill himself." A surge of panic ran through Bryn and without even realizing it she had lunged at him and started hitting him.

"Honestly," he said, pushing her away with minimum effort. "Do you have a death wish?" She knew she could do no damage, because he was a giant oaf, but she was getting her anger out somehow.

"Leave him alone," she protested. "Don’t say those things!"

"Honesty is always best," he laughed. "I’m just telling you the truth." He just chuckled to himself in a somewhat sadistic manner. "I think someone’s feeling a little extra guilty. And rightly so." She shoved him and backed away from him, more tears falling from her eyes. "Yes," he said, laughing more heartily. "You used your wiles and made him love you. Well, now look what you have done. You have finally made me the victor!" She whimpered as she shrunk back from him. "I tried all these ways to defeat him. I should have thought of using a woman much sooner."

"I hate you," she whispered sadly.

"So you’ve told me," he said with a nod. "It doesn’t matter much, though, does it. I still win."

"No, you don’t," she said, but she couldn’t push it out of her head everything she had caused. She drove Drago to being a drunkard and now he was going off to kill himself, all because of her. She couldn’t stand the thought of it.

******

Without warning she was pulled from her reverie as an extra sharp pain hit her. "I can’t wait until we get you back to Chicago," Joel hissed, twisting his knife slightly as he pulled it out. He traced along a scar on her stomach with the tip of his knife. "I don’t remember giving you this one. Has someone else been keeping you in line as well?" He traced over it again, this time digging the tip of his knife into her skin.

Her mind flew to the night she had received that particular cut and pangs of guilt hit her again. Another night when she had failed Drago. It seemed to be all she did.

******

"I was a whore, plain and simple," Bryn said, looking away from him. Wordlessly he stood abruptly and started walking away from her. Her heart sunk, watching him. That was the one thing she had hoped he would never find out about her. She rose and walked over to him. "Drago..."

"Leave me alone," he said, not looking at her.

"You don’t understand..."

"Please, leave me alone." The way he was standing there, refusing to look at her, broke her heart. How could she make him listen? How could she make him understand?

"Just listen to me," she said softly, resting her hand on his arm lightly.

"I told you to leave me be," he said sharply, brushing her hand away. All she could do was stare at him. He had never spoken to her like that, ever. Finally he looked at her, but the look on his face showed complete and utter disgust. She stood there staring into his eyes, which reflected ultimate disgust, as her own eyes filled with tears. When she could stand it no longer she ran from the bar, sobbing.

Adrenaline ran through her as she sprinted down the street. Eventually, though, she started walking because her sobbing was taking so much energy it was making it hard to run. She had only been walking a little while when someone grabbed her shoulders and roughly turned her toward him, causing her to gasp sharply.

"Hey there, it’s the little slut," Tino growled, brandishing his knife. Why was it always him, she questioned herself. Why did he feel the need to do this all the time? He grinned horribly at her before swiftly cutting her arm. She winced but did not make a sound. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of that. He stabbed her deeply in the shoulder, aggravated, and then pressed the blade to her throat. She closed her eyes, breathing in sharply.

"Go ahead, it doesn’t matter anymore," she said sadly, meaning it entirely. Almost as though her consent on the matter made his urge to do it go away, he pulled his knife away from her throat. He cut her across the stomach and turned, heading back to the bar without another word. She pressed her hands to her stomach with a groan as she slumped back against the building. For a while she stayed like that, then started her long trek back to Astoria.

******

This time it was a thud as something hit the floor that broke her out of her nightmare. Seconds later she felt Joel pulled away from her as his knife landed on her, thankfully though it was not a sharp bit that hit her. She could hear some sort of struggle going on, but had no idea what was happening as she couldn’t see anything.

"What the f..." she heard Jacob, her brother, start to exclaim as she heard something else hit the floor. There were several more moments when all she could hear was a ruckus, but the a voice broke through the noise.

"Drago!" She could have sworn it was Samuel, but that was impossible. Samuel was in Chicago. There was no way he could be there. But whoever it was had yelled Drago’s name. Was it possible that he wasn’t dead and that he actually was there?

"What the fuck is your problem?" she heard Joel growl. Barely two seconds later a gunshot went off and she screamed involuntarily.

"What the fuck is going on?!" Jacob yelled, sounding a little more than angry and a good bit scared. As much as she hated to admit it, she agreed with her brother. She really wanted to know what was going on, who had been shot, who all was there...just everything.

"No one lays a finger on my Bryn without paying for it," she heard an all too familiar voice say, dripping with anger, and her heart soared. True, at the moment he sounded a bit frightening, but Drago was there. He was there, and he was going to take her away from all the torture and torment, and it would be wonderful.

"Your Bryn?" Joel growled, sounding more irritated than anything. She could tell from both his tone and Jacob’s tone that they both were upset about something more than Drago being there, but she didn’t know what.

"Yes, my Bryn," she heard Drago say, still sounding angry. "My beautiful, amazing Bryn. I will kill you if come near her again, got that? In fact, I intend to kill you anyway." Her breath caught in her throat, both in joy and fear. She had never heard him sound this way before and it frightened her a little. "Do we have an understanding?"

There was a complete silence in the room, and then, "I asked if we had an understanding. Do we?" Once again, there was a pause. "Are you not going to answer me?" She heard a bit of a scuffle, then a loud slamming noise.

"You know what I just love about that girl over there?" she heard Joel start in a low tone.

Her heart sunk, not even wanting to imagine what he was going to tell him. She heard the slamming noise again, but now there was a scuffle going on behind the words being spoken. "Her skin, that’s what I love about her," he continued in his low tone. "Wanna know why?"

Her curiosity was now getting the better of her as she heard him groan after a moment. She had no idea what was going on, or where Mark was for that matter. "For one," Joel started again, "it slices open so, so easily. You barely have to touch a blade to it." Really, how stupid is he? she thought to herself. Does he really have a death wish or something? Only a complete idiot would have said something like that to someone who had already stated he was going to kill him.

All she could hear for a while was a great deal of punches and struggling. Who was punching who and who was struggling, she had no idea.

"Just give me that," she heard Jacob say in an almost frantic way. "I might not hurt you if you do."

"Right," came Samuel’s voice. She could not believe he was there, still, but she entirely appreciated the fact. "Like I would believe you for a second. You’ve already tried to kill me." They had tried to kill Samuel? Somehow that helped explain part of it. That might have been how they knew where she was. Not that he would have told them, but if they had ransacked his apartment they could have found her correspondence with him.

"Well, sorry about that," Jacob said, not sounding all too apologetic. "I don’t want to kill you so much anymore, just that other guy."

"Right, because I would really side with you," Samuel scoffed in the defiant way Bryn remember oh so well. "Even if I did believe you, I’m still on his side. Idiot." Suddenly she remembered why she had always loved having Samuel as a friend so much. Loyalty beyond loyalty.

"Fine, be that way," Jacob said icily.

"And the other part I love about her skin," Joel growled barely moments later, "as I’m sure you’ve noticed, is that it tastes so good."

"That is enough out of you," Drago said, his voice full of rage. A shot was fired a moment later, then another, then another. Although she could assume it was Joel who had just been shot, three shots had been fired and she had no idea where all of them had gone. There was a shot pause, then she heard Drago speak again. "A quick death is too good for you...Let him go, Samuel. Let's see what he makes of this."

As many shots were fired, she felt slightly relieved that she knew both Samuel and Drago were still alive. She was trembling as she was untied and the second she was able to she clung to her love she thought was lost, crying into his shoulder.

"It is alright now," he said softly, stroking her hair and holding her close to him. "You are safe." She couldn’t help sobbing, even though she knew he was right. Everything that had happened in the past week or so had been hell, and it wasn’t going to be easy to get over. It was nice, though, to finally be held by him as she cried. She buried her head in his shoulder as her tears subsided, clinging to him as though she would never let go. And he simply held her. By that simple action he stopped the world from spinning around her, and he really did make it seem as though everything would be alright.