Taming the Queen of Beasts

RIKA

Gar stood over her, hands open and at his sides, his eyes wide. "Rika… what—?"

"Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me!" she wheezed, scuttling back, away from him, until her shoulders came up against the trunk of a tree.

Gar froze, but he still loomed over her, his face painted in confusion. He reached one hand forward and Rika's chest exploded with adrenalin.

That hand had broken bones, broken skulls. Those arms, so thick with muscle, had held her like a kitten under one arm even while he fought.

There was blood on his knuckles, and his feet.

He was a nightmare walking.

"Rika," he breathed, that deep, quiet voice that she'd been yearning to hear for days. She'd dreamed about that voice. But she'd forgotten… she'd forgotten… he was deadly. Not human.

"Get away from me!" she growled, pulling herself up to a sitting position, clutching the scanner to her chest. She didn't even know if it would work anymore, but somehow she'd been fixated on it, her brain screaming at her that she couldn't leave it, even as she tried to escape the whirlwind of death he'd just visited on her colleagues.

Holy sheet. Holy sheet.

Her entire body trembled.

"Rika," he said, slightly stronger this time, but his voice pleading. "I wasn't trying to hurt you. I never want to hurt you—"

She slapped away the hand he offered and pushed herself back and up, against the trunk of the tree, pressing herself into it, turning her head as far away as she could without taking her eyes off of him.

She'd known men like him her whole life. Sweet and affectionate one second, roaring death the next.

How had she let herself be fooled? Was she so stupid that she let herself fall for his handsome face and cut body and ignore the violence simmering inside him?

Well, no more. Her heart hammered at her ribs and her blood thudded with the shot of adrenaline fizzing in her veins.

In her mind, Gar's surprise and shock disappeared behind images of her father, standing over her in exactly that pose, his face twisted into a sneer, hands balled to fists.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to kick him in the balls. She wished she had the gun and she could shoot him in the head and—

"Rika, beautiful, look at me. Look at me."

Rika blinked and realized Gar had dropped to squat at her feet, leaning towards her, elbows on his knees.

"Don't… just don't…"

Gar's forehead wrinkled and his mouth pulled down on the sides. "Rika… I would never hurt you. I was trying to get you out of there—"

"You killed him!" she hissed, sitting forward enough that the words spat in his face.

"Possibly," Gar admitted. "Though it wasn't my goal when I went in. I had to get you out of there. Am I wrong that he had realized you saved me?" he asked quietly. "Thank you, Rika. You saved my life. I can never repay you. Now… let me save yours."

Rika blinked again, for a split second, that warmth appeared in her chest again—the aching to be close to him, wondering if he was okay. But then her sense returned.

He'd killed John. And who knew how badly the others were injured? He'd torn the four of them apart in seconds, barely breaking a sweat—and carrying her at the same time.

He was… he was a murderer. He was a thug. And she didn't stand a chance if he decided to lay a hand on her. He could outpace, outfight, and outstrike her.

She was at his mercy. This massive mountain of man could do whatever he wished with her and she would have no more choice than a child in their father's arms.

Her breath tore in and out of her nose as she swallowed and swallowed, nausea coming in waves. Her hands shook so badly she almost dropped the scanner. She was so confused! Her body jangled with fear and fury. It wanted to lash out at him, claw his face, flee…

But her heart… her heart pulled towards him. In the same moment she cursed his strength, she yearned for him to gather her into that chest and hold her close, keep anyone and everyone else away.

A wave of fear rocked through her and she trembled from head to foot.

"Oh, Rika," Gar breathed. "What did he do to you?"

"I'm fine!" she shrilled. "Leave me alone!"

"I don't want to harm you—"

"I just watched you murder a man!"

"No, you watched me defend your life and my own. He had a gun, Rika, and I took it from him. The other had a weapon as well, I've seen them before. Been warned. If he'd shot it at me, I would have dropped to the dirt, unable to help you or myself for many minutes—if it didn't make my heart explode," he ended gruffly.

Rika blinked. Ron had had a taser in his hand, Gar was right. But Gar had kicked it out of his grip so quickly she'd barely registered that he was moving before he'd already been leveling the men… 

Rika's breath caught in her chest and she tried to suck in and couldn't. Fear screamed in her head and she dropped the scanner, her fingers digging into the dirt as she tried—and failed—to breathe.

"Oh, beautiful. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Gar breathed, pulling her into his chest.

She tried to struggle, tried to push him away, but she had no air. Her sight was beginning to star and flash at the edge of her vision. And tiny whimpers broke in her throat as she sucked and sucked at the air, trying desperately for oxygen.

Gar was careful not to cover her mouth, or squeeze her.

But he sat in the dirt and pulled her into his lap, his forehead leaned against her temple, rocking her slowly and whispering, murmuring that he would never hurt her. Pleading with her to see him… to know…

And slowly, slowly, slowly… Rika's wheezing became sobs.

Slowly, slowly, slowly she relaxed in his arms. 

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