Pattycakes (Chapter 5)
Summary: Like they say, it really does just take one time... Patricia Hodgins knows that better than anyone. She’s got even worse luck when it comes to her child’s father: Billionaire playboy Thor Odinson. He’s selfish and manipulative; and Patty’s not sure which outcome frightens her more—killing him or letting him worm his way into her heart.
Pairing: Thor x Black OFC
Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4
Warnings: Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Mildly dubious consent, Breeding Kink, Age Difference (significant but not extreme), Stalking (light stalking though lol), Past Relationships, Class drama, Dad!Thor, Character improvement
A/N: Sorry it took so long for me to move this chapter over here, I got kind of busy, and just was feeling bleh, but I’m here with the updates! 😂
This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! 😘
Chapter 5: Rock-a-bye
Thor’s secret gets out, and Patricia is forced to confront some hard truths.
“Mommy where my room?” Amelia’s excited squeal echoed loudly through the large apartment. She’d kicked her shoes off as soon as they arrived in the penthouse, bouncing excitedly around the open space. Thor had already called the movers—and paid them too.
He’d meant it when he’d told Patricia he didn’t want any more delays. And when he hadn’t heard from her, he’d decided to go straight to the source. Why argue with Patricia over texts when he could do it in person, staring down her low cut t-shirt as she fought against the inevitable?
There was little Thor had ever wanted that he hadn’t gotten, whether through privilege, or by simply taking it, and though he couldn’t explain it, he wanted…Patricia. Amelia. And if the only way he could get them was by exploiting Patricia’s fear that he might win a custody battle, Thor wasn’t above doing so.
He’d been so close to fucking her right there in the kitchen—it probably wouldn’t have taken too much more convincing—but his daughter’s riotous giggles made him second guess the urge. Besides, it was better to only push one agenda at a time, and it was clear that having Patricia’s obedience would take more than idle threats. You caught more flies with honey, as the saying went.
“I don’t know baby. I think upstairs?” She asked, turning to look at Thor, who nodded.
“Yes. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Amelia scampered up the stairs, half crawling on her hands and knees. She ran the few feet to the first door, pointing as he came up behind her, eyes wide with excitement. “Dis one?!” He hoped Amelia liked her new room—he’d spent time poring over every furniture catalogue he could get his hands on, and though some things hadn’t come in yet, he was fairly confident that he’d done a good job.
“Yes, Amelia, this is your room now.” He reached past her to open the door, and Amelia shot inside just as Patricia came up the stairs and rounded the corner. There was a huge bay window on one side, and the stark white walls had been painted a soft yellow, with images of horses running all along it—he knew she liked horses, and had asked specifically for them to be included. The plain light fixture in the center of the ceiling had been replaced with a hanging moon and star. She didn’t have a bed, or furniture set up, though the pieces lay against the wall, waiting to be assembled.
“This is a nice room, Thor.” Patricia said tightly. He could see she meant it, even if it was grudging. It was substantially larger than the room she’d had in Patricia’s apartment—it was easily double it’s size, with room for a much bigger corner for Amelia’s books and bean bag. The view—which she would only come to appreciate when she was older—was nothing to sneeze at either. The city lay spread out before her like a picture, the fading afternoon sun painting the room even brighter gold And that wasn’t even mentioning the antique rocking horse he'd stationed in one corner, or drivable miniature car in the other. He hadn’t quite been able to curb the urge to shower her with gifts—make up for lost time.
“You should say thank you, Amelia.” Patricia instructed, sighing with resignation. “Jesus, is that a mini Maserati?” She muttered, cutting her eyes at him.
“Thank you,” She repeated dutifully. “Mommy, where my books?” She asked, looking around confusedly. Her brows furrowed as she looked between the two of them, waiting for an explanation.
“They’ll be here tomorrow, with everything else from the old apartment,” Thor answered. He knew, of course, that that meant they would be sleeping with him that night, but he didn’t mind the thought of it quite so much, so long as Patricia kept Amelia’s tiny fists and feet away from his head. Instead of being reassured, Amelia’s face crumpled further as her lip trembled. “You don’t have to worry about them, they’ll be here.” He meant for it to be an assurance, but he could tell it wasn’t taking.
“But I want them now!” She whined, peering up at him with watery eyes before turning to her mother as though she would get a different answer. “Mommy!”
“They’re on the truck, Mels, like Thor said. Mommy can’t get them. You’re just going to have to be a big girl and get by with the books we have for tonight.” Patricia crouched down and tried to rub a soothing hand across Amelia’s cheek, but it seemed she wouldn’t be deterred, pushing her mother’s hand away fiercely.
“No, now!” She argued, her voice rising in volume until she was yelling. Patricia knelt in front of her, trying to calm her down, but it appeared too late for that. Thor grimaced. Thus far, all of his interactions with Amelia had been wonderful. She’d been very good on their walk to the store, holding his hand, and chattering at him quicker than he had time to process it. Now, however, her toffee colored cheeks were red with anger, and she rubbed her teary eyes as she stomped her foot.
“Amelia, enough.” He said sternly, crossing his arms. His voice was loud and authoritative, with the intent of stopping her fit in its tracks. This only served to incense her further, and she burst into tears, wailing loudly as she crumbled to the floor in a tantrum. Oh shit. Patricia heaved an exasperated sigh, and glared up at him
“Real nice, Thor.” She muttered, picking the screaming toddler up and cradling her to her chest as she continued to cry and struggle. “Don’t yell at her like that.” She snapped, stroking Amelia’s hair. Thor wanted to interject that he hadn’t yelled at her, but he doubted that distinction would matter to his wailing daughter and her irritated mother.
“She didn’t nap today, we’ve been moving around a lot, it’s no wonder she’s feeling testy.” Patricia explained, rolling her eyes. Thor could tell there were more words she wanted to let loose, scathing ones that would likely set his own temper raging. Her tone made it clear she felt the information she was dispensing was obvious— To you, maybe. He groused inwardly.
Amelia whimpered in her arms, and she grimaced. “Where am we sleeping? I’m going to try and put her down for a nap, it’s the only thing that’ll stop this.” She said quietly, and Thor fought the wide grin that threatened to spread across his face. Patricia had requested her own room—a request Thor had not fulfilled.
“Your bed isn’t here yet either.” He replied smoothly, not bothering to keep the smug smirk off of his face. Patricia glared at him, tight lipped and marched past him back out into the hallway, likely heading for his bedroom. Thor couldn’t help but enjoy riling Patty up. He hadn’t changed many things there either, and he saw her stop and roll her eyes at his massive bed before crawling onto it and laying Amelia down.
Amelia was still sniffling, clinging tightly to her mother as she tried to extricate herself. “Mels, I’m just going to go get your bottle from the bag downstairs—”
“No!” She sobbed, holding tighter. “No, no, mommy!” Patricia looked up at Thor helplessly. Amelia had graduated from attempting to push Patricia away to refusing to let go of her, wailing.
“Can you get the duffel bag from downstairs, please? I think I have a bottle all made up for her already.”
“A bottle? Patricia she’s three.” He said disbelievingly. He knew little about child rearing, it was true, but surely three was too old to still be drinking from a bottle, wasn’t it? The vitriol with which Patty was glaring at him, however, spoke otherwise.
“Yes, Thor. Three. ” Her voice carried an air of finality that made Thor bristle, and he opened his mouth to respond—but was cut off by Amelia’s loud sniffle. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room. The bag Patricia had mentioned was sitting by the steps, and upon opening it Thor saw that it was full of things for Amelia. Changes of clothes, small toys, snacks, and formula for toddlers. In one of the side pockets, he found a lidded sippy cup containing what he assumed was Amelia’s juice.
When he returned to his bedroom, Patricia was seated cross-legged in the center of the bed, rocking a still testy Amelia back and forth as she rubbed soothing circles on her back. The toddler eyed him suspiciously as he crawled onto the bed on his knees awkwardly, holding her bottle. “Here, Amelia.” He patted his lap, hoping to entice her into sitting with him while she drank it, but Amelia let out a distrustful little whine and fidgeted.
“Come on, Mels. Thor went and got your bottle for you, what do we say?” She looked down at the fussy child in her lap. Amelia scowled and threw a frustrated little fist at the bed beside them. “Amelia.” Patricia replied sternly. “What do we say?”
“Okay. Now do you want to go sit—” Patricia’s voice was drowned out by an answering wail as Amelia shook her head so hard her hair flew around it wildly.
“No, don’t wanna! No, mommy!” Patricia looked apologetically at Thor, who handed her the bottle without further argument. He couldn’t keep the angry look off of his face, however, and he heard Patricia swallow audibly. Amelia calmed instantly, holding the handles on either side of the bottle as her eyes grew lidded. Patricia continued to rock her slowly, patting her back when she let out a sad little hiccup.
Thor rose from the bed, his fists clenched tightly. Why? Why would she react so poorly to him? They’d been just fine the other morning when he’d taken her out to help him get breakfast. It just… didn’t make sense. Thor narrowed his eyes as he made his way back downstairs, and over to the liquor cabinet. It was late afternoon, but it wasn’t as though he had anything else to do. By the time Patricia joined him at the table, he’d downed two glasses of scotch already.
“Starting early?” She asked snippily as she sat down across from him, her lips pursed with distaste.
“What are you telling Amelia about me?” He asked bluntly. Patricia’s mouth fell open in surprise and she sputtered. “She hates me.” The bitterness he’d been trying unsuccessfully to keep out of his voice dripped steadily from his words. What he wasn’t expecting, was a surprised peal of laughter from Patricia, who quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as her shoulders continued to shake. Thor gripped his glass tighter. “This is amusing to you?” He spat. “We’ll see how amusing it is when my—”
“Yes, Thor, your lawyers.” Patricia snorted. “You’re this upset because your daughter had a tantrum? Newsflash, Thor: you’re a stranger. ” He bristled at this, but Patricia rolled her eyes and continued. “Amelia doesn’t know you . It takes time to build that kind of relationship. You can’t buy it,” She replied pointedly.
Thor took another angry sip of his drink. He knew it was silly to expect her to latch onto him like she clearly did Patricia, but he still couldn’t help the burning jealousy that threatened to overwhelm him. In his mind, it was even less fair because Amelia hadn’t had the time or the choice to get to know him.
“I’m not telling her bad things about you, Thor.” Patricia said softly, reaching out to touch the back of his hand. “I promise.” He studied her face for a moment, looking for the lie—but found none. He hadn’t realized how much he really wanted her to stare at him with the same adoration until he’d found she didn’t. A
He drained his glass and sighed. “I suppose I just… She’s my daughter too,” He replied, somewhat petulantly. Patricia nodded.
“She is, I’m not denying that.” Any more. “She’ll come around, Thor. You just have to be patient. Amelia’s a sweet kid, I’m sure…” Patty sighed long-sufferingly. “I’m sure she’ll love you in no time.” Surprisingly, Patricia’s platitudes did make him feel just a little better. Were it Idunn, she’d be sulking until he bought her something shiny and expensive. Patricia cleared her throat. “Can we talk about my bed?”
Thor rolled his eyes. Here we fucking go. “It’s not here yet.” He lied smoothly, declining to mention the fact that he hadn’t ordered it. It had been nice waking up with Patricia and Amelia, and even better to fall asleep with Patty’s body fitted so snugly into the hollow of his own.
“Thor, please. Let’s not play this game. I can buy it myself if you’re feeling too prickly about it.” Thor furrowed his brow at her jab.
“I can afford a bed for you.” He scoffed.
“So what, you just don’t want to?” She snapped. “I meant it when I said we should be focusing on Amelia. Isn’t that the whole reason you’re doing all...this?”
Patricia was half right. He did want to involve himself in his daughter’s life, and he did want to be present for her. At the same time, the virulent desire to punish Patricia for her transgressions remained. Along with it, was the strange urge to have her wholly and completely to himself. He understood it about as well as as he cared to—Thor was more in the habit of assuaging his desires than he was into examining them.
“I’m doing this, Patricia,” he said smoothly, grasping her hand in his own and stroking his large thumb over her knuckles. “Because you owe me.” He could see the indignation and anger on her facial features. “Because you took something from me that I can never replace.” He would never see Amelia learn to walk, or to talk, there was no amount of money that would rewind the years for him.
“You what, Patricia?” He asked, bringing her hand up to his lips. He felt her shudder at the contact.
She snatched her hand from his to point at him accusingly. “Look. I’m not doing this with you, Thor. I said I would come here so that… so that you wouldn’t take her from me, not so that you could make me into a housepet!” Thor gritted his teeth. Brute force had always worked well for him, but he kept butting up against seemingly impenetrable walls when it came to Patricia. It would be much harder to force her hand with Amelia around, he knew. Perhaps it was time to employ the same technique he had with Stark—give just a little, to get a whole lot more.
He wanted Patricia—wanted her as often as he could have her with as little resistance as possible.
“Fine.” He’d caught her mid-sentence, and Patricia sputtered, the steam going out of her in her surprise.
“I said fine. I’ll have something here in an hour.” He sent off an irritated text to one of his many “assistants”, instructing them to pick up a queen sized bed from the closest Pottery Barn—it didn’t matter what it looked like, Patricia wouldn’t be using it very long if he had his way. And Thor Odinson usually had his way.
“Oh.” She looked at him suspiciously. “Really? I-I can pay for it myself,” She said again, and Thor shook his head.
“I’ll take care of it. I told you I would, so I will.” Patricia’s trust— and her compliance— wouldn’t come easily.
When Clint finally came by with the movers, Patricia was almost as excited as Amelia, bouncing on her toes as they unloaded the bed. They set everything up easily, and when Thor brought a set of sheets for her, she was laying in the center with her legs dangling off of the side. She sat up to look at him quizzically.
“Thank you, Thor.” She said grudgingly. “I… Just...thanks.”
“You’re welcome, Patricia.” He deposited them on the edge of the bed, and for a moment, he found himself tempted to tug her forward for a kiss—but dismissed it. That wasn’t the relationship they had. He watched her struggle with the bedspread for a few amusing minutes before crossing the hallway back into his own room. Amelia was still sleeping soundly in the center of his bed, snoring softly. Patricia had surrounded her with pillows, which Amelia had prompt spread out over, her arms and legs sticking out at awkward angles.
In spite of himself, Thor smiled. Adorable. It had been a long day for her, waking up early to pack as many boxes as they could, and then sitting in the car while Patricia and Thor sniped back and forth at one another. No wonder she was tired and cranky. Maybe Patricia was right. He sat down on the bed gingerly, careful not to disturb her too much. It really was amazing, how much she looked like both of them. She wrinkled her nose in her sleep, and Thor grinned.
“Real cute when she sleeps, isn’t she?” Patricia asked quietly from behind him. She’d clearly bested the fitted sheet, and was now standing next to the bed, quietly observing their daughter alongside him. “Sometimes I can’t believe I made her.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her raise an unconscious hand to her stomach. Unexpected bitterness filled him—-he’d missed that as well.
“Did you… I mean, did you always want….” Thor trailed off, unsure of how to ask. If he’d been in her position, he couldn’t say he’d have kept a baby. Unmarried, fresh out of school… For the first time, Thor fleetingly thought about what it must have been like for her. Had her parents supported her? Had they been disappointed? He swallowed thickly at the thought; the weight of Odin’s disappointment was often crushing.
“Did I want an abortion?” Patricia asked, and for the first time when their eyes met, there was no anger or hurt in them. “At first, yeah.” She admitted. “But I couldn’t… I couldn’t go through with it. I kept making the appointments and missing them.” Her voice was quiet. Thor didn’t really know anything about her pregnancy—he’d never bothered to even ask. “And then I was a month and a half pregnant, and by then I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.”
Thor felt another pang of jealousy. He’d never gotten to see her pregnant, to go to ultrasounds or feel the baby kick. Would I have gone if I’d known? He shook his head. It didn’t matter what he would have done—because he’d never gotten the chance to do it. He wondered if she’d known the baby’s gender before the birth or after.
Patricia moved forward, leaning past him to reach for Amelia. She fussed a little, but Amelia hushed her, cradling her in her arms as she fell quickly back asleep.
“Thank you again for the bed, Thor.” Her thanks were earnest.
He heard her door close behind him, and her footsteps faded.
The next morning, Thor was woken from sleep by the smell of food cooking. He didn’t usually keep the fridge or pantry particularly well stocked, considering he ate out for almost every meal. He frowned, before padding blearily down the stairs. He didn’t normally work Mondays—a caveat of his long weekends, usually spent drinking more alcohol than he cared to remember. It was early for him—before eight—and he rounded the corner into the open kitchen.
Patricia was standing in his kitchen, flipping sausage links in a pan while Amelia chattered at the breakfast bar, swinging her legs wildly.
“Door! Mommy, Door is here!” She pointed at him, her eyes wide. Thor was tired and he’d woken up feeling particularly cranky, but Amelia was as chipper and excitable as always, paying little heed to his sour mood. Patricia turned to look at him over her shoulder, and Thor felt his mood worsen as she raised a judgmental eyebrow at him. He was tempted again to take her to task, wipe the smug look from her pretty face and make her beg —but Amelia was all too present.
“I see him, Mels. What do we say? Good morning, Thor.” Patricia instructed, looking over her shoulder first at Amelia, and then at him. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt, her legs and feet bare. Her curly hair was piled messily on top of her head, and round glasses that Thor had never seen her wear before were perched on the edge of her slightly upturned nose.
“Good morning, Patricia. Gone grocery shopping, I see.” He said, and she snickered.
“Someone had to, this house was emptier than a Mets game.” She replied without missing a beat, glancing at him over her shoulder.
“Goo’ Mornin!” Amelia chirped, turning to smile brightly at him, all yesterday’s animosity completely forgotten. She whirled back to her mother, her mouth going a mile a minute. “Mommy I have school today?”
“Of course you have school today, Mels. It’s Monday. You have to go to school, and Mommy and Thor have to go to work,” She explained. Patty muttered something Thor didn’t quite catch, though he could parse out the phrase “real work” from her grumbling. He felt ire rise in his chest, but he calmed himself.
Long con. You’re playing the long con.
Patricia brought over a small, colored plastic plate with Amelia’s blunted cutlery on it, and began cutting up her food when Thor stopped her.
“I’ll do it. You get ready.” He said, watching her narrow her eyes suspiciously at him. She didn’t fight him on it in front of Amelia, relinquishing the fork and knife wthout a fight.
“Oh. Um, okay. Thank you?” It came out as a question, and Thor nodded his head graciously. Patricia lingered for a moment, puttering around the kitchen as she watched them out of the corner of her eye.
“You go to work?” Amelia asked him curiously as she chewed.
“You should wait until you’re done chewing to talk to people, Amelia. But yes, I’m going to work today.” She chewed thoughtfully, still swinging her little legs. She swallowed before speaking again. “Like your mother.”
“Um. I work in the same building as your school, Amelia. My father owns it.” Her eyes widened, and Thor was surprised by the spark of pride he felt in his chest at her amazed expression. If only your mother was as easily impressed. He continued to cut up her eggs, and sliced the sausage into little pieces.
“Wow!” He held the fork out for her, and Amelia grasped it with clumsy fingers. “I like school.” Thor had never really… spoken to a child before. Things he found obvious were completely new to her, but he found the glow in her eyes as she discovered new information to be strangely precious.
“What, er… what are you learning in school?” He asked, taking a bite of his own food. Good.
“Show and tell! I like show and tell,” Amelia bounced in her seat. “And shapes! Dass a square,” She replied proudly as she pointed at one of the pictures on the wall. Thor heard the shower start upstairs, indicating that Patricia for now, at least, couldn’t interfere. Amelia puffed her little chest out, and Thor got the indication that he was supposed to be impressed, and acted accordingly.
“Wow!” He replied in a booming voice, enjoying it when she slapped her tiny hands over her mouth as she giggled. “You’re so smart!” Amelia preened—she was a proud little thing, and it reminded him of himself. There were other similarities, ones he kept noticing the longer he was around her. Her stubbornness, the squared set of her jaw. It was more obvious than ever that Amelia was his— How Patricia thought she could deny the obvious is beyond me. Though he knew Patricia would frown on this line of questioning, she wasn’t there to object. “Amelia, can you tell me about your family?”
“Mommy!” She chirped, and Thor nodded, smiling.
“Very good. Who else is in your family?” He asked patiently, stroking her head affectionately, testing a loose curl between his fingers. It was looser than her mothers, but still just as soft.
“Gramma, and Gampa,” She said slowly, her face screwing up slightly as she thought. “Auntie Wanda! And ‘Merica!” She still hasn’t told her. Thor kept his displeasure off of his face, though it wasn’t easy. Of course Patricia hadn’t told Amelia yet—it was clear her goal was to drive him away before it ever mattered. But Thor was just as, if not more, stubborn than she was, and it would take more than that to keep him from his daughter, now that he knew he had one. the
“And what about your father? Daddy?” He asked, and Amelia furrowed her brows in confusion. “Where is he?”
“I don’t… I don’t know,” she grimaced. She was fidgeting, glancing all around the room as she frowned. She sniffled, and Thor cursed inwardly. It seemed like this was something Amelia had never really questioned before. He hadn’t meant to upset her, only gauge what she thought.
“Mels, what’s wrong?” Patricia’s worried voice came from behind him. Thor turned to see her, a towel wrapped around her body and her hair damp and dripping. “Thor, why is she so upset?” Amelia hopped down from the breakfast bar and ran over to her mother, attaching herself to one of her legs as Patricia glared at him accusingly.
“Thor, I was gone ten minutes! ” She hissed. “She looks like she’s about to cry!” It was true, Amelia didn’t really have the words to communicate her confusion, and it was making her upset. Amelia looked tearfully up at her mother.
“Mommy, where is Daddy?”
Patricia fumed the entire way to work, and had to fight from cursing when the Asgard building came into view. Amelia bounced excitedly; ready for school, her previous upset already forgotten.
“Where is daddy?”
Patricia had sputtered at her question. Of course Amelia knew about families—they had at least two books about them, packed away in boxes somewhere. She knew about parents, and siblings, but… Patricia had been careful. She made it clear who Amelia’s family was—grandmother, grandfather, her. America and Wanda too—but not Thor. And when Amelia had looked up at her and asked that seemingly simple question, Patricia had been caught between a rock and a hard place.
She’d scowled at Thor, whose attempt at placid innocence would have been laughable had it not been painstakingly clear that he was the one who had set Amelia on this course of thought in the first place. Patty wanted to scream—why was he doing this? Was it just to torture her? Had she really done so wrong by keeping her pregnancy from him? Her mind was going around and around in circles, each thought biting the tail of the last. Maybe it had been cruel and selfish, but his current behavior made her feel fairly justified in doing so.
He’d been successful in forcing her between a rock and a hard place. If she lied, he would he angry—Patty had swallowed thickly at the thought of his ire. And if she told the truth, there was no way Amelia would be in any shape to go to school today.
“He’s… it’s complicated, Amelia. You have a dad, sweetheart.” That reassurance seemed to satisfy her daughter’s worry, and her lip stopped trembling, though she wasn’t quite as bouncy as she had been when Patricia had gotten her up for breakfast just a short while before. Thor hadn’t come with her to drop Amelia off, apparently satisfied with the chaos he’d already managed to sow at seven thirty in the morning. I want to wipe that smug look off his disgustingly handsome face.
It wasn’t the thought itself that made Patricia start as she ushered Amelia into daycare, but the unnecessary descriptor she’d attached to it without meaning to. Of course Thor was handsome… Her cheeks flamed.
“Sorry, we’re a little late this morning,” She said quietly, watching Amelia skip forward past the reception desk and over to one of the small learning areas where other children were being read to as they sat quietly. The receptionist shrugged.
“No problem, Miss Hodgins. We’ll see you at pick-up.”
The rest of Patty’s day was a blur of activity—sorting new art, returning phone calls. She completed each task mindlessly, her thoughts scattered elsewhere. How do I tell her? The time was rapidly approaching when she would no longer be able to conceal who exactly Thor was to Amelia, and if she didn’t want her daughter to resent her forever, she needed to figure out the best way to do so.
Patricia bitterly found herself wondering how Thor would continue to punish her when he could no longer hold Amelia’s hidden parentage over her head—no doubt he would find something. Suddenly, her mind conjured the image of Thor reading to Amelia, her tiny body tucked beside his on the bean bag, bright eyes watching him with rapt attention. In spite of everything, Patricia felt herself melt, just a little. At the very least, it was amusing to watch him attempt to keep up with their daughter’s rapid fire questions, ever changing moods, and seemingly never-ending well of energy.
“Patricia, we’ve got some Klein pieces being delivered this evening, do you think you could stay an extra hour or two?” One of the other consultants was poking his head into the back office when she looked up, a pleading expression on his face. “Peggy’s leaving early to take the Judas to the MET for the opening tonight, and I have to go with her to help. You’re the only one who’ll still be around.”
Patricia liked Peter Quill well enough as a coworker, and though they were relatively close in age, she often found him just a tad scatterbrained, not to mention immature. Patricia glanced up at the clock—only twenty minutes before the gallery closed. She’d only been working there a few weeks, not long enough to have a standing relationship with anyone. Peter had been there for years—an expert at appraisals. Saying no to him could have consequences. Patricia swallowed nervously. She’d be cutting it close to pick up Amelia, but…
“Um, sure. I think I can stay. How many pieces are we expecting? Evelynne didn’t say.”
He grinned charmingly at her. “You’re a lifesaver, Patty.” Patricia waved him off, shaking her head. “No, seriously. I’m the idiot who double-booked myself.” He joked self-deprecatingly, jerking his thumb in his own direction. “Just two. Delivery guy said they’d probably be here before five.”
“No worries, Peter. My pleasure.” Peter crossed the room in two long strides, sweeping Patricia up in a bear hug. She squeaked with surprise, before awkwardly returning the gesture. He released her after a moment, and as Patricia was smoothing her skirt, he leaned against the desk.
“Let me repay you. Dinner? Drinks? On me.”
“Peter… I don’t really know, I mean you really don’t have to,” she sputtered. He was handsome, funny… But Patty wasn’t one to date her coworkers. Peter held his hands up placatingly.
“Totally platonic, I promise,” He replied evenly, lifting his hand to draw an “x” over his heart. “Scouts honor. There’s a couple of us going, a couple of the other consultants, Drax and Gamora. Plus, you know, boss lady’ll be there too.” Patricia felt her shoulders practically sag with relief. She didn’t know if she could take another presence in her close personal life right now—between Amelia and Thor, there wasn’t much of Patricia left to go around if she was being honest. As much as she disliked the father of her child, she couldn’t deny that he occupied more space than she wanted to allow, both physically and in her thoughts.
“Well I hope you’re an honorable scout, because I could definitely use a drink. How’s Friday?” She asked, and he nodded.
“Be prepared to be serenaded, Drax gets very romantic when he’s drunk. Thanks again, Patty!” He replied, before heading back out of the storeroom. It would be nice to have a night away from Amelia that didn’t included getting the crap grilled out of her by Thor—it would be a welcome respite.
Patty finished up her cataloguing, and then headed back to the front desk to wait for the delivery. Johann Klein was no small name in their gallery—a small, Sokovian artist who had gained international fame when his work was featured in a cultural exhibit at the Louvre. No coincidence that he was Wanda’s favorite artist, as a fellow Sokovian—even if she’d been in the states since she was ten.
P: We’re getting some Klein pieces in tonight, thought you might want to know so you could come see them, fangirl
Wanda responded to Patricia’s ribbing almost instantly.
W: 🙄 not responding to that. OOOOOOH!! I’ll be there. When’s the gallery open until??? I wanna see!
P: We’re closed for the night but we’re open late Thursday. I’ll bring your child, she’s been dying to see you
W: it’s a date 😘
It was only half past four, and Patricia amused herself by scrolling on her phone until after five, when she began to feel a little impatient. The daycare closed at six, and while there was no hard rule about pick-up time, Patricia knew that it was likely Amelia wouldn’t have many other children to play with by now, if any were left at all. Fuck. If she’d still been in Long Island, it wouldn’t have been difficult to have her mother or father pick Amelia up, but it would take over an hour to drive in during rush hour traffic, and Amelia certainly couldn’t wait that long.
The last thing Patricia wanted to do was call Thor, but there weren’t many options. As the clock struck half past five, Patricia sighed in defeat, before reluctantly tapping Thor’s contact info. She’d saved his name under Asshole , with several cursing emojis after it. It was childish, but it still made her giggle just a little before she pressed the call button.
It rang once, twice, three times before being silenced, and Patricia was abruptly sent to voicemail. She narrowed her brows. Did he just… screen my call? Pursing her lips, Patricia tried again.
It took three more calls before Thor’s irritated voice boomed out of the receiver.
“What?” He snapped. Patricia could hear what sounded like rustling, and a quiet, feminine giggle, and she rolled her eyes and clenched her jaw. “I’m… in the middle of something.”
Balls deep in some one , more like. Patricia didn’t like the spark of jealousy that burned on her tongue as she spoke.
“I need you to pick Amelia up from school, Thor.” She said quietly. “I had to stay late at work, and I’m worried I won’t be there by the time they need to close at six.” She heard Thor snort.
“I’m busy. ” Another little laugh. The woman said something too quiet to hear, and Patricia could hear movement.
Patty knew it probably wasn’t wise to push him. She’d been on the receiving end of his ire since they’d reconnected, and she wasn’t stupid. Patricia knew that she’d only experienced a small portion of his wrath, and was loath to see him follow through on all of his idle threats. But Patricia’s maternal instincts had already begun kicking in, and she wasn’t about to back down now, not when her daughter needed him.
“You don’t just get to be a parent when it’s fucking fun, Thor!” She shouted, slamming her hand against the desk so hard she knew he had to have heard it through the phone. “Amelia is alone at daycare, and she needs her father to come get her! If this isn’t what you wanted, you should have left us in fucking Canarsie, we were doing fine without you!” She seethed, her heart racing. She was prepared for the barrage of condescending insults, but he only levied a heavy sigh at her after a few seconds of silence.
“I’ll be there.”
Patricia ended the call without saying anything further. Her pulse was still racing, her blood roaring in her ears. This was only a small victory, but Patricia felt the pleasure course through her just the same. It was ten to six when the delivery men finally got there, and after six thirty when Patricia had finished logging the paintings into the system, and locked them away safely in the vault all the way at the back of the gallery.
She didn’t bother with the train that evening, and simply called a taxi back to Thor’s luxurious apartment. Patricia wondered if she would ever think of it as home. Thor had all the taste of a rich, urban socialite, and though his apartment was gorgeous , it wasn’t… homey, or welcoming. It was cold and impersonal—a perfect reflection of its owner. He hadn’t responded as to whether he’d picked Amelia up or not, but as it was almost seven, she assumed he had.
The lobby was almost as sparse and minimal as Thor’s apartment, and the security guard eyed her suspiciously as she fumbled with the card key for the penthouse elevator. I know I don’t belong here either, buddy, Patricia thought bad naturedly as she punched the “close door” button harder than she needed to. When she finally reached the top, the doors slid open and her ears were immediately assailed with Amelia’s excited shrieks.
Yep, he got her alright. Patty kicked her shoes off, and padded towards the sounds with stockinged feet. Thor and Amelia were in the living room, and from the looks of things, it had only taken her just over an hour to utterly destroy his simple, clean living space. There were some boxes piled up against the distant walls, indicating that the movers had already dropped their things off. Patricia was surprised to see Amelia’s bean bag at the end of the sleek sectional couch. Patricia took the two short steps down into the sunken living area, peering around. As she observed, Amelia’s head popped up from the other side of the couch, and she shrieked upon seeing her mother, covering her mouth and ducking down again.
“Mommy’s here!” She whispered excitedly, her still too-loud voice carrying easily. Thor’s deep answering chuckle made Patricia’s belly do a strange flip-flop.
“Is she? Okay, we’re going to jump in three, two—” Thor stood from behind the couch, Amelia clutched in his arms. “Surprise!” Amelia laughed, clamoring out of Thor’s grip and scampering across the rug to slam into Patty’s legs.
“Mommy! Mommy, Door came to my school!” She said excitedly, pointing back towards her father. Patricia snorted, before covering her growing smile with her hand. Thor was wearing Amelia’s fairy wings, which were hilariously small on him, and she’d given him the wand that accompanied the costume as well.
“I see that! Did you have a good day at school?” She asked sitting down as Amelia clamored into her lap. Amelia began chattering instantly, and Patricia watched Thor settle not too far away, putting the glittery wand down on his once pristine coffee table.
“I paint today, mommy!” She said excitedly, showing Amelia her finger-paint stained hands. “And, and, and we play games,” She said seriously, watching Patricia nod as she listened. The living room looked like an Amelia bomb had gone off in it—there were several of her books littering the floor and sitting on the couch, along with at least four toy horses that Patricia could count, and probably what were the entire contents of the dress-up chest that her grandmother had gotten her this past Christmas.
Thor looked completely exhausted, though Patty didn’t blame him—it was clear Amelia had extra energy tonight, and it was going to be an uphill battle getting her to settle down, this Patricia knew from experience. She couldn’t help but giggle as Thor’s head sagged back against the couch cushions.
“I’ll tell you what, why don’t you go play, and Mommy will start dinner?” Patricia asked, watching as Amelia considered her options. Patricia kissed her head, and bundled the little girl off of her lap. It looked like Amelia and Thor had had a go at quite a few of the boxes, and she tore through one of them, pulling out even more toys. Patricia looked over at Thor, who was regarding her silently.
“I assume everything went okay at school,” She said, and he waited a moment before shrugging.
“I wasn’t on the approved guardians list, but I smoothed that over.” Patricia winced—she’d forgotten to add him to the list of people allowed to pick Amelia up from school. She’d been meaning to do it, and just kept forgetting. It hadn’t helped either that she was still holding out hope that he would grow bored of this game and release them.
“Damn. Sorry.” Thor raised a skeptical eyebrow, but Patricia gestured placatingly with her hands. “Really, I didn’t… that wasn’t on purpose, Thor.” Patricia reached up to loosen the bun she’d had her hair in all day, massaging her scalp and running her fingers through her curls. “I’m glad they let you take her. What did you tell them?” She asked, cocking her head.
“I told them I was her father.” He said simply, and Patricia’s cheeks heated as she was reminded of her earlier thoughts. She glanced up to see if Amelia had heard, but the little girl was far too busy making her horses fight one another to listen to their boring adult conversation.
“Of-of course.” She said tightly. She rose from the couch, and she could feel Thor’s eyes on her like physical weights, dragging down her form. “I’m going to go change.” It was clear her earlier assumptions had been correct—the movers had already dropped off their things. It seemed like Thor had already unpacked and set up most of Amelia’s room; her four poster bed sat against the wall, across from the huge window seat on the adjacent wall. Her bookshelf was put up, and while not all of her books were on it, many of them were. Her beanbag was downstairs, and so were a couple of her other things, but… It gave Patricia a warm feeling in her chest to think that Thor had gone through the trouble of setting up Amelia’s room.
He probably paid someone else to do it. She thought snarkily, before heading to her own room to slide into a comfortable pair of leggings and a cropped tee. Thor was waiting for her in the hallway.
“I saw Amelia’s room,” She said softly. “Did you… I mean, you hired someone, right?” She asked, and he shook his head. Patricia couldn’t help it when her mouth fell open just a little, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Thor didn’t particularly strike her as the manual labor type.
“A labor of love,” He said dryly. “Though I did consider it.” The laughter bubbled out of Patricia before she could stop herself. She felt a little bad—it was clear Thor was attempting to connect with Amelia, and establish a relationship. Patricia sighed.
“Thank you. For picking her up, I mean.” Patty said awkwardly. Even though I had to practically beg you to do it. “I see she hasn’t destroyed too much of your apartment.”
“Yes, well… It’s all part of the job, right?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s your apartment too, Patricia.” He reminded her. She couldn’t help the little scowl that played on the edges of her lips at his words—of course he would say that, even though he’d bullied her into being here.
“Yeah. It is, I guess.” She said slowly.
Amelia was still playing when they came back downstairs, and hardly seemed to notice their absence as she made her plastic horses gallop all over the backs of the furniture. Patty headed to the kitchen, before beginning to search through the fridge for something to cook. She could feel Thor’s presence lingering nearby. He was seated at the dining room table, where he could easily watch both her, and Amelia, though his attention was clearly on the latter. Patty couldn’t help stealing glances, letting out an amused chuckle as their daughter climbed up into the chair beside him and began chattering away.
It was good to see he could be patient, even if he had a long way to go. Patty was in the process of cleaning up their hasty dinner when the shrill sound of the door buzzer went off, startling her. She dropped the lid of the pot with a loud CLANG , her hand flying to her chest. Thor looked equally surprised, knitting his brows together as their eyes met.
“Expecting company?” Patricia asked, bending to pick up the fallen cookware. He shook his head, putting down the book he’d been reading to Amelia.
“Not that I know of.” He rose to his feet, hushing Amelia gently when she whined that he’d stopped. The buzzer rang again impatiently, and Thor strode across the living room and down the entry hall to the elevator. Patty knew from experience that there were only two ways to get up to the penthouse—either with a personalized card key, or the be sent up by the doorman. Clearly this was the latter. Patty poked her head around the corner, watching curiously as Amelia clung to her legs.
“Who at the door, Mommy?” She asked impatiently, tugging on Patricia’s arm. She could only shrug. Thor punched the open button, and a tall, willowy blonde stepped out, poking her finger into Thor’s chest. She reminded Patty of a barbie.
“What the fuck, Thor?” She shrilled. “You said later four hours ago,” She whined, pressing herself against his surprised, rigid form and curling a lock of his golden hair around her finger. Patricia’s jaw dropped open in shock. No fucking way. The blonde brought her hands to his shoulders, but Thor seemed to get his bearings, and caught her wrists in one large hand. Patricia scooped Amelia into her arms, hushing her when she fretted.
“It’s… not a good time, Idunn,” He said harshly, glancing over his shoulder at Patty and Amelia. The woman— Idunn?— cast a disparaging glare in the direction Thor had looked, and her eyes first widened in shock as they met Patricia’s, and then narrowed in rage. She shoved her way past a shocked Thor and stalked over to the kitchen, where Patricia hurriedly backed away, still holding Amelia.
“Who the fuck is this? ” She asked, stomping an expensive heel against the hardwood flooring. Amelia whimpered at the yelling, and Patricia frowned. She rounded on Thor, pointing a manicured finger accusingly at Patty. “Who is she?! ”
“I’m right here,” Patricia muttered, stroking Amelia’s head soothingly. “And who are you?” She asked pointedly, refusing to be cowed. Idunn squinted at Amelia, her gaze traveling from her, to Patricia, to Thor, and then back to Amelia again. A knowing smirk appeared on her lips.
“Go play in your room, baby.” Patty muttered. Perhaps she could feel her mother’s ire, or sense the quickly escalating situation between the three of them, but Amelia obeyed instantly, and Patricia waited until she was gone from sight to raise an accusatory finger at the other woman. “You barge in here, yelling, scaring my daughter,” She snapped, grimacing when Thor got between the two of them. “I don’t know what you’re thinking is going on here, but it definitely isn’t.”
Idunn sneered at her, raking her eyes over Patricia’s plain leggings, and t-shirt, her lip curling. It was obvious that Patty was being judged—and found wanting. Her curly hair was pulled into a loose messy bun, in extreme contrast to the loose, blonde waves that Idunn clearly spent a great deal of time cultivating. Thor couldn’t have found a more opposite set of women if he tried. Patricia knew she wasn’t Thor’s… typical type, but with what amounted to a super model in front of her, she was forced to take stock.
“Idunn, calm down,” Thor replied harshly, placing a hand on her shoulder. She threw his hand off, continuing to glare menacingly at Patty. “You’re making a scene, I can explain—” Idunn cut him off, her offended gasp silencing him.
“ I’m making a scene?” She shrieked loudly, throwing her hands into the air. “You’re here playing house with the goddamn help , and I’m making a scene? Does Odin know about your fucking charity case?” Patricia’s mouth dropped open, rage beginning to boil in her gut. It didn’t matter who Idunn was, no one talked about her daughter that way. Before she could speak, however, Thor grasped Idunn’s wrist tightly in one hand, and she winced, struggling against his grip.
“I want you to think very carefully about the next thing you say, Idunn. You will not speak about my child like that.” Idunn opened her mouth to speak, but Thor didn’t let her. “You show up to my home unannounced and uninvited, and then have the nerve …” Thor flexed his other hand, clenching it tightly.
“So she is yours,” Idunn breathed, using his momentary lapse to snatch her hand away. “My father will never let you marry me now,” She gloated, crossing her arms and staring down her nose at a fuming Patricia. “Not when you’re indisposed. ”
Surprisingly, Thor emitted a deep chuckle. “Idunn, I was never going to marry you.” She sputtered at this, and he squared his shoulders, peering down intimidatingly at her. It was hard to stand up to him when he did that, and Patricia found herself feeling just a little bad for Idunn; having to face him down. “Leave. Before I call your father and tell him you’re panting after me like a bitch in heat.”
Idunn recoiled as though she’d been slapped, turning and marching out of the apartment. The elevator dinged, signaling she was gone, and Thor’s shoulders sagged as he clapped a hand to his forehead, cursing.
“God fucking dammit.”
Patricia let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Girlfriend?” She asked dryly, pursing her lips. Who was Odin? And…why wouldn’t he know about her and Amelia? It was clear they had an intimate relationship—why else react so poorly to Patricia’s presence? Thor turned to scowl at her, shaking his head.
“Something like that.”
Patricia found herself wondering what their relationship actually was, how close they were. Her thoughts turned back to the other night, and she felt even more uneasy. They’d had sex not that long ago… Patricia pinched the bridge of her nose. She was the “other woman”.
“You know, it would have been good to know you were seeing someone before you fucked me,” She snapped, stalking over to the fridge. She pulled the door open, grabbing a bottle of wine from the door and then slammed it back shut. “That’s pretty goddamn low of you.” Not to mention now I feel like shit.
Thor had the nerve to smirk at her. “I didn’t hear you complaining then,” He replied. “We were hardly exclusive.” He sighed. He didn’t look particularly guilty, either. “You might not understand this yet,” He reached for the bottle himself, motioning for Patricia to remove another glass from the cupboard. She did, grudgingly. “But there are certain… expectations I have to meet.” His voice turned sour, and Patricia took a large swallow of wine. Ah. Here it is. She thought bitterly. The part where he tells me I’m not good enough.
“Mmhmm.” Patricia narrowed her eyes at him, pressing her lips into a thin line. “And those would be?”
“Marry right. Take over the business. Keep our line strong.” He replied without hesitation, and Patricia got the sneaking suspicion he wasn’t pulling this out of thin air. It had been drilled into him by someone else. Maybe not so nicely, either. Patty smiled bitterly.
“Well, we never meant to screw up your arranged marriage by virtue of existing, and all,” Patricia said snarkily. “Maybe if you explained… everything to her, it would help.” She offered, but he shook his head. “Tell her you and me… we’re not anything.” He rolled his eyes at her words, and an unreadable expression crossed his face before he shrugged.
“It’s no use now. There’s no talking to her like that.” He sounded as though he was speaking from experience.
“Well, you know, just saying, if you’d told her you were moving your baby-mama into your apartment before you did it, it probably would have made less of a mess.” An irritated expression crossed his face, and realization dawned on Patricia like a lightbulb going off in a dark room. “Oh my god.” She barked out a derisive laugh. “You couldn’t tell her, could you? What are we, your dirty little secret?” Her tone was scathing. “So this whole time you’ve been trying to fuck me, you’ve been toying with her too? No wonder she came in here screaming bloody murder at you—”
“You sound jealous, Patricia. Want me all to yourself?” He drawled, and Patty was seized with the urge to hurl her wine glass at his head.
“Jealous?” She repeated incredulously. “What would I possibly—” Patricia was officially in defense mode, her voice rising in volume. Thor was unfazed by this, pushing his chair away from the counter and making his way over to her. He caged Patricia in against this sink as she shuddered, pressing himself against her.
“If you want me, Patty, all you have to do is say.” She hoped to god he didn’t see the little tremor that passed through her. She couldn’t help it, not when he used that voice. Patricia glared up at him, but Thor continued to smile disarmingly down at her, lifting a hand to stroke her chin gently. God , it was like he was seeing directly into her with those cold blue eyes. She didn’t want to admit her jealousy, because if she did, Patty would have to admit that part of her wanted him—and there was no way she was doing that.
“I—I don’t—” He kissed her, sweeping his tongue into her open mouth as Patricia struggled for words. She hadn’t been prepared for this, and like the bastard he was, Thor was ready and willing to take advantage. He sucked on her bottom lip until it throbbed, releasing it to go to work on her throat.
“You don’t understand yet,” He murmured against her skin. Patty hated the way his touch made her head all foggy, made her forget just how much she hated him. “Doing this for your own good.” His hand skirted over her hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He pulled away then, leaving her standing panting and confused in the kitchen, the wine glass trembling in her hand as he headed upstairs to check on Amelia.
What the hell just happened?!
1 note · View note
Borne of Bullets and Bloodshed - Chapter Six.
Surprise! Another chapter :) My writing game is so strong on this, so I decided to do another update for you. I’m hugely enjoying writing this series, it’s nice to see that some of you are enjoying reading it just as much!
Word count - 2,220
Warnings - None
Taglist - @katie007123 @clarinette07 @lilacmeadows @mostly-marvel-musings @skyfullofsong123 @captain-asguard @innerpaperexpertcloud @longlostinanotherworld @chickensarentcheap @ocaptain-mycaptainmorgan @malloryknoxx @dumb-ass-writer @brandleb
(I understand there is tagging difficulties right now with people not being notified of when I post. I already DM some readers to let them know, if you want to be notified in this way too, just let me know, it’s no issue!)
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five
“Sniper, opposite roof!” she hissed, Tyler ducking back to shield himself behind the wall, Liliya throwing herself flat to the creaking floorboards, one arm reached back to press against her wound.
“Stay low, I’ve got him.” Moving to the edge of the window, he ducked back again after briefly emerging, another bullet whistling through the air before turning and shooting through the open window space, the fifth bullet fired hitting the man in the neck. They both waited, exercising caution to see if anyone else was about to make a move, Tyler fetching his and Liliya’s rucksacks from where their captors had dumped them before arriving back at her side.
“It’s not bad, not deep,” she told him, grumbling in annoyance as she viewed her punctured leg after pulling up her leggings.
“I can get it out,” he assured her confidently, assessing the wound while Liliya turned her attention to the opposite window.
“No, Tyler. You can’t. There’s a group of men, six, no, seven of them heading this way, all armed.” Pushing herself up, she attempted to put weight on her leg, but found it difficult, just about managing to hop. “Fuck! Now is not the fucking time to be incapacitated!”
It most definitely wasn’t, if not for the small militia on their way, but for the tear gas cannister which suddenly landed through the window. Tyler threw his bag and a nearby rifle over his shoulder, Liliya doing the same before he hoisted her up, carrying her on his hip as they fled the room, coughing and hacking even from such a short-lived exposure.
“Can you walk at all?” A tentative step after he put her down, followed by a yelp revealed that no, she could not. Up she went again. “We move as a unit. You wield the rifle; I’ll be on transport and handgun duty.”
“Tyler, just leave me up here and clear the way first,” she suggested, taking the rifle from his shoulder just as she heard the men storming the stairwell. They were only on the fourth floor; it wouldn’t take long.
“I’m not leaving you alone when you can’t walk.” His answer was resolute, delivered in a tone that she understood was not to be argued with. It also made something in her chest flutter, a feeling long forgotten, or so she’d thought.
For once, she did as she was told, locking her legs around him, his arm holding her tightly, the pain to the side of her shin absolutely burning as her blood trickled over her boot, decorating the floor with vermillion drops.
Firing down into the stairwell, Tyler hit one of the ascending men, dodging back towards the wall again and readying himself for their appearance. They had to go head on, no way around it, Liliya braced as she held the rifle above his head. Two more were hit as they emerged, the remaining four bringing the fire fight.
From her vantage point, being held up by a man standing at six feet three, Liliya was able to hail down bullets on them, but sadly not quickly enough to prevent Tyler taking one to his right arm, just about able to fire off a final shot before running down the rest of the stairs, not prepared to hang around. Paolo had brought a team primed to attack in waves, it seemed. They needed to vanish, and quickly.
The sound of sirens in the middle distance also pressed the need for quickness, Tyler heading down a back street, still with Liliya clutched to him, her hand pressed into the wound halfway between his shoulder and elbow. He skidded to a halt next to a jeep, trying the door but finding it locked, the passenger side luckily open.
Throwing themselves in, he pulled a knife from his pocket in order to jam into the ignition and force the start, the vehicle shuddering into life, both breathing a small sigh of relief to at least have transportation faster than feet. They were by no means out of the woods yet, though.
He put his foot down, but not so much that two people covered in blood would attract more attention than they had already as they raced through the streets of Caracas. While Tyler drove, heading to the nearest exit road to get them off the grid, Liliya sat poised with the rifle, turned back to watch through the rear windscreen, ready to shoot anyone following them.
“How’s your leg?” He asked, glancing over at her.
“Burning, but I’ve had worse. Your arm?” After inadvertently being flung back against the door when he cornered sharply to narrowly avoid a red light, she decided to belt herself in, Tyler doing the same while he replied.
“Yeah, same. Could have been a fuck side worse though, huh? I guess you were right, we make a good team.” She smiled in reply, thinking that whenever they were together and being shot at, they didn’t really have much other choice but to be, for mortality’s sake.
They both felt better to have escaped the city once they hit the road leading out, a long route that would lead them away from civilization, their destination unknown and unplanned. They stopped to refuel and buy food, Liliya the slightly less bloody and inconspicuous, washing her face with her bottled water before heading in, returning with a bag full of food and a full tank of gas paid for.
“We’re going to have to stop soon. I’ve managed to sort myself out, but that bullet needs to come out of your arm,” she stated, after they’d been on the road for around three hours. She’d managed to remove the bullet, stitch, clean and dress her own wound, only managing to wrap Tyler’s to prevent it from bleeding further while he drove.
“You’re right, yeah. I’ll pull in when there’s a break in the trees.” They were driving along a dirt road, surrounded either side by rainforest, the perfect place to be able to stop for the night if they drove far enough into the thick of the trees, away from the road where they could be seen. Relaxing too much just wasn’t an option, but Tyler reasoned that with Paolo and his team out of the way, they could both breathe for a little while, at least.
Once he’d slowed and managed to find a way into the forest that wasn’t quite so densely established with the hundreds of feet tall trees, he drove through until the road vanished from view, eventually entering a clearing where the forest bordered on a small lake. They got out, Liliya taking her ever-present first aid kit from her bag and sterilizing the tweezers she’d used to yank her own bullet out, before attempting to remove Tyler of his.
“Fuck, It’s no use! It keeps slipping,” she cursed, while he grumbled in pain, swallowing another mouthful of scotch. They’d situated themselves on the grass behind their stolen jeep, the air all around peaceful, cicadas chirping, birds calling out their song from the trees as the last of the light began to dip into the horizon, the sky adorned in rich pink and orange. “I will have to be gross, but it shall work.”
Moving astride him, she lifted his arm to her mouth and wrapped her lips around the wound, beginning to suck. He’d heard of this method of bullet extraction, but never had he used or witnessed it before.
He remained dubious, gritting his teeth, Liliya increasing the pressure suddenly. His reaction was only human, smirking through the burning pain as he wagered to himself that she probably sucked dick like an absolute champion.
He felt the pressure then release, physically feeling the bullet exit as she turned away and spat it onto the ground, along with a mouthful of his blood. “If you have hepatitis, I will fucking hunt you down and skin you.” She told him, continuing to spit, Tyler chuckling his usual, deep rumble of amusement.
“Well, I’ve bare backed you three times. There isn’t much left I could give you that you wouldn’t have already gotten from me pumping you full of cum,” he observed, Liliya raising her eyebrows.
“I suppose this is true, big man.” She eyed him in a way that let him know loud and clear she expected him to do that very thing to her again at some point soon, turning her attentions back to his arm to clean and stitch the wound. “I’ll leave dressing off, because if you’re anything like me then you’ll be dying to get into that lake and wash. I smell like an Olympian jock strap basket.”
He could have smelt better, he had to admit, watching her undress and dig out a bar of soap from her bag before hobbling down and wading in. He sat back and watched her for a short time, wanting the burning pain in his arm to die down a little before he moved, instead letting his eyes feast on the Russian beauty before him.
She had the kind of body one would expect from her life, muscled and scarred, but with the rounder, softer touches of womanliness that drove him wild, such as her full hips and rounded bum that carried just enough fat across the muscle to give it the perfect jiggle.
He recognised her scars, stab wounds, burns, bullet holes and knife slashes, each of them painting a picture of a hard life across the canvas of her pale skin, adorned with randomly scattered tattoos.
A double headed eagle graced the back of her neck, detailed mandalas on one forearm stretching to her hand and fingers, one also across her sternum leading beneath both breasts, a couple of other finger tattoos, a cluster of roses in front of two crossed AK-47 rifles down her side and set of roman numerals leading up from the base of her spine were just some of her works that he focused upon while watching her bathe.
“Are you coming in? The water is absolutely perfect,” she called to him, suddenly bobbing and squeaking quietly, pointing frenziedly to his right. Turning his head, he saw a tiny rabbit by the water’s edge, curiously foraging.
“Oh look, dinner!” he announced, Liliya’s face darkening in an instant.
“You shall not! Bunnies are my favourite of all the animals,” she stated firmly, continuing to look on at the small creature with fondness. Right there, he witnessed a softness he would have, up until that point, doubted could exist in a woman like her.
“Why?” He questioned, amused. For a woman like Liliya, he’d more expect her favourite to be some kind of deadly arachnid or reptile.
“Because they are small and cute, but feisty and clever. If they get pissed off, they stamp and bite. I appreciate such attitude. I had one as a child named Pushkin. He was a badass, he used to bite my father, who he absolutely detested and then hide behind the curtains, only coaxed out by my mother or I along with the offering of strawberries.” Again, he witnessed a softness about her as she revealed what was obviously a much-cherished memory.
He wasn’t sure why, but it endeared her to him a little, seeing her as a person, not just a killing machine who he enjoyed having sex with. He liked the way she could still find joy from something so small and insignificant as a baby rabbit when such had been lost to him for many years. There was a part of her that remained not so hardened by what she did, nor the things she had likely seen, a little slither of sparkle that intrigued him.
“How long did you have Pushkin for?” He asked, unbuttoning his shirt, examining the neat stitches in his arm again. She’d done a really good job.
“Until he was thirteen, which is very old for a rabbit. I was away by that point in the army. He apparently jumped into my mother’s lap one morning to cuddle with her while she drank her coffee like always, but when she moved to take him into the kitchen for his breakfast, realised he had gone limp. She always says he knew he was going to go, but hung on so they could have their routine one last time. Did you have any childhood pets?”
After undressing fully, he entered the water with her, Liliya lathering just enough soap to be able to wash her hair before handing him the bar. “We had a Belgian Malinois named Tiego, he was awesome. My brother and I used to chase him all over our land as kids, they’re massively high energy dogs so he suited being in a household where he had two young boys to keep him occupied.”
“You mention land. Did you grow up on a farm or something similar?” Tyler revealed that yes, he had, his parent's sheep farmers out in the Northern Territory of Australia. It happened completely organically, the easy conversation they’d slipped into, no longer mercenaries being hounded, their co-existence surrounded by blood, sweat and bullets.
They were just two people, enjoying the cool water of a lake in the fading Venezuelan sun. For that moment, that’s all either of them needed to be.
15 notes · View notes