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Chapter 17

Sparrow

I can’t believe this is my life. I can’t believe I’m allowed to wake up with a smile and nuzzle closer to the man next to me in bed. I can’t believe I fall asleep every night happy and sated after he’s wrung at least a few orgasms out of me, his larger body on top of mine, weighing me down, making me feel protected and safe and shielded from the world.

A week passes. Maybe two. I don’t keep up with the time, too elated and happy to just be with Louis, snuggling up beside him on the couch and watching TV until we’re both too hot for each other to keep focus, and he carries me into the bedroom and does with me what he wishes, but the difference from Aaron is that now I want it too.

Everything. I want everything.

The only issue arises when he has to go to his bartending job in the evenings. I’m still wary of being on my own, and while I can try to use some of my brain power that usually goes toward worrying to study instead, the conversion rate doesn’t seem that high.

I try to clean. I try to watch nature documentaries. When he’s got the late shift, I even try to exercise to exert myself enough to fall asleep. But no position is as comfortable as when Louis spoons me from behind with his arm snugly under my neck, so I usually settle for keeping myself up until he gets home.

This night is such a night. Louis has the late shift together with Ravi, and even though he hates to leave me alone, he also hates bringing me to Moe’s and all the people he claims could harm me there. I suppose he’s right. It’s better I stay here; at least I’m less likely to run into Aaron.

The hour is turning late, and I retreat from the couch to the bedroom, thinking I’ll read a book until Louis comes home. I’m lying there, quietly reading, trying to trick my anxiety into thinking I’m safe when a scratch by the patio door heightens my breath.

Strange. Why would Louis enter by that door? He wouldn’t, that’s the answer, so then who—

Voices. Voices coming from outside, muffled by the window. With my heart in my throat, I get to my feet, crouch, and peer into the living room.

Two men stand outside the patio door. From this angle, I can only see their shoes and ankles, but I can already tell they’re too skinny to be Louis. I crane my neck, careful not to give myself away.

There’s the loud, shattering sound of broken glass, followed by a burst of muffled laughter.

“Are you sure about this?” says a voice I don’t recognize.

Then, a voice I do recognize snaps impatiently, “Yeah, I’m sure, what the fuck do you think?”

It’s Eric—the guy who got me drunk at the party Lilith brought me to. In some ways, I should thank him for getting Louis’s attention on me. If I hadn’t gotten so shit-faced that night, Louis might not have noticed me at all.

The question is, what the hell is he doing here?

Footsteps tap across the carpet, and I crawl desperately backward on my palms and feet until my shoulders hit the bed. Any second now, they’ll see me!

I duck and slide and crawl until I’m fully underneath the bed. My breath is staggering up my throat, but I try to keep every little sound inside as I turn around to my stomach, facing the door to the living room.

“Where does he keep them?” Eric asks. Now that I see him, he doesn’t look right. He’s slurring his words, and his steps are swaying too much. Maybe he’s taken a few swigs of the bottle himself this time?

“Check the cabinets,” the other guy says.

They rip open some of the cabinets on the wall next to the TV. What are they looking for? They have to know Louis will be coming home soon. Robberies are usually done in secret, so why break in so close to the end of his shift?

“Fuck, where are they?” Eric snaps. “Tyler, look in the bedroom. We’re running out of time already.”

The feet approaching the bedroom send my heart into overdrive, and I clasp my hand over my mouth lest they hear my gasping breaths. But what about my heartbeats? They’re pounding so hard I can feel my pulse all over my body. I feel sick. What would they do if they found me? What are they planning to do with Louis?

There’s a rattle of someone unlocking the door to the apartment. Louis! It has to be.

Eric lets out a hiss. “Fuck. Forget the guns. Let’s hide, and we’ll overpower him.” He crouches down next to Tyler behind the bedroom door.

“Have you seen the dude?” Tyler snaps. “There’s no way we can take him.”

“With this, we can.” Eric flips something open that glints in the moonlight. A knife? Oh god, no…

The entrance door opens, followed by Louis’s footsteps and the rustle as he takes off his jacket.

Shit, I have to warn him! But if I scream now, Eric or Tyler might try to catch me…

It’s worth the risk. I fill my lungs with as much air as I can fit and scream with all my might, “Louis! Watch out!”

“What the fuck?” Tyler mutters. Then several things happen in quick succession.

The huge silhouette of Louis enters the doorway. Tyler lunges toward him. At the same time, a hand shoots under the bed, grabs hold of my arm, and yanks me forward.

My knees burn as they skid over the floor. Eric keeps pulling my arm until he’s got me upright, and then he bends one of my arms behind my back so hard I think it’s going to break.

“Wait!” Eric yells triumphantly, and something cold and sharp presses to my throat. “Look what I’ve got.”

Louis, who’s got Tyler up against the doorway with a brutal grip on his throat, snaps his attention to the two of us. His eyes—dark and furious—fix on me.

“Don’t move,” Eric says, “or I’ll cut your little boy toy from ear to ear, bitch.”

Louis grunts, and his shoulders heave, his huge arms bulging with muscle. “Let him go. Or you’ll fucking regret it.” He looks crazed, nostrils flaring.

“Why would I let him go?” Eric asks, ripping me even closer to him.

“What the fuck do you want?” Louis growls, and his voice…I’ve never heard him like this. He doesn’t sound angry; he sounds beyond angry. He sounds as if Eric and Tyler have opened the gates of hell, and the beast that slept inside isn’t happy about being woken up.

Tyler gets out of Louis’s grip and aims a right-hand hook, which Louis narrowly ducks.

Eric stumbles backward to avoid being hit by the both of them, and I take the one chance I’ve got to bite him in the hand that holds the knife.

I bite as if my life depends on it because maybe it does.

I bite with the same fury I hit Aaron over the head with.

I bite him for disturbing our home, for hurting me, for trying to hurt Louis, my Louis…

“Aargh!” Eric drops the knife and falls backward onto the bed.

In a flurry of motion, I grasp the knife from the floor and launch myself onto the bed to straddle Eric.

“No!” he yells and puts his arms up as I slice the knife in the air in front of him, trying to get at him anywhere I can.

Something dark and furious has taken hold of me, and instead of Eric’s dark eyes, I see Aaron’s; instead of Eric’s thin-lipped, gaping mouth, I see Aaron’s. Adrenaline-fueled speed allows me to evade Eric’s defense, and the knife cuts through his skin like butter, slicing him open, and blood spurts from his forearms and the sides of his hands. Eric wails like an injured dog when I reach his chest too.

“Sparrow.”

Louis’s voice—Louis’s calm, safe voice—speaks behind me, but I can barely hear him. I’m screaming and crying at the same time as I slice away at Eric, and Eric can do nothing else but try to protect himself with his arms over his head as I hack away at his skin. He thrashes and wriggles but seems to have forgotten the use of his legs from the shock.

“Sparrow, stop.” Strong arms close around my waist and lift me away. I’m floating in the air for a second before my feet land on the floor, and a gentle hand pries the knife from my fist.

Blood. So much blood.

Eric is half-panting, half-sobbing. His arms are covered in slashes, and he’s still protecting himself—still holding his bloody arms up as if I’ll have another go at him.

Louis wrenches Eric’s arms down on the bed and points the knife to his throat.

“What’s the matter?” he says in a calm, dangerous voice. “Seems to me like you want to die.”

“No. No!” Eric shakes his head, voice frantic and broken.

“Why else would you break in here and attack my Sparrow?”

“We wanted to…wanted to teach you a lesson,” Eric whispers, licking his dry lips. “You didn’t have to beat me up that bad.”

“It’s my job to beat up senseless little assholes like you.”

“Wasn’t fair. I couldn’t move for weeks.”

“Didn’t think you deserved it?” Louis says. “You caused the death of that girl, and now that you’ve hurt my Sparrow, you deserve worse than a beating, don’t you think?”

“Him?” Eric sneers, casting me a glare. “He’s fucking insane. Evil little freak.”

Louis raises the knife, higher and higher as if charging the force behind it. My breath catches in my throat. Is he really going to do it?

Eric screams and lashes his hands up in front of his face in protection. “No, please!”

It all happens in a split second, and in that precious moment, I feel high on the adrenaline surging in my veins.

Louis pauses, knife hovering scant inches above Eric’s trembling hands.

“You’re going to leave our home now,” he says. “I don’t ever want to see your faces in this town again. Get as far away from Springvale as possible, got it? Or else, I think you know what will happen.”

“Tyler,” Eric sobs. “What did you do to Tyler?”

“Splash some cold water in his face, and he’ll wake up. Probably.”

Eric rises slowly from the bed and limps over to Tyler, who’s lying on the floor in the living room. Eric bends down and slaps his cheek. Tyler jolts to life, and they disappear from whence they came, tails between their legs.

I let go of a shudder. Then another. I’m shaking as if I’ve been out in the cold for hours.

Louis sets the knife down on the bedside table and turns to me. “Sorry. Did that get you scared?”

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. I swallow a load of spit and try again. “No.”

It did get me scared, but seeing Louis like that and taking the knife to Eric, it…It wasn’t scary; it was exhilarating, thrilling, arousing. Got me all hot and shaky. For once, I got to hurt someone—someone bad—without getting hurt myself. And Louis…Louis protected me. He avenged me from Eric’s insult and scared the living shit out of him, as he deserved. Didn’t he deserve worse than that though? And deep down, I wish it wasn’t Eric who broke in. I wish it was Aaron. Wish it was Aaron I slashed with the knife. Wish it was Aaron I got the chance to do worse things with…Who Louis would do worse things with…

“Let’s clean you up.” Louis leads me into the kitchen. With a wet towel, he gently wipes the blood off my face.

I lean into him, melting into his touch. So warm. So safe. Louis. My Louis. I rub my face into his torso, inhaling his sweat and lingering adrenaline.

“You liked that, did you?” he mumbles, sliding my bloodstained shirt off. “You liked what we did?”

“Yeah.” I tug at his belt, palming the crotch of his jeans, my pent-up tension desperate for a way out of me. “I liked it.”

Louis cocks an eyebrow, and I don’t know if he’s surprised, disturbed, or turned on, like me. “That’s how it is, huh?” With a grip on my hips, he lifts me effortlessly up onto the counter. “This got you all hot and needy?”

Turned on it is, then.

I nod wordlessly, grabbing at his shoulders and pressing him tighter against me.

“Okay, baby. I’ve got you.” He makes quick work of my underwear, and my cock springs free, achingly hard and hot against the cold air flowing in from the shattered patio door.

“Louis.” I arch my back, trying to show him what I want, what I’m aching for. “Want you now. Now.”

He grits his teeth, gaze searching the counter, and his hand shoots out to grab a jar of coconut oil by the stove. The lid clatters to the ground as he coats his fingers in the oil, shoves his pants down in one go, and slathers his cock up.

“Want you inside,” I gasp, and he lifts my knees up high and fits himself to my hole.

“You’ll have me.”

“Now,” I whine.

“Wait a bit, baby boy. Don’t want to hurt you.” He presses into me slowly, and the tight ring of my hole burns from his girth.

“Ngh…just…just…ah!” The head pops inside, and I arch my neck to watch where he’s entering me. Slowly, his thick length pushes further and further, and the sight and sensations send my head spinning, my cock twitching, and my hole aching.

“That’s what you wanted?” Louis grunts. The sharp edge of the counter cuts into my lower back, but I don’t care. I’ve got him inside me now, and everything is as it should be. “Such a needy little boy. So desperate to get your hole filled.”

All I can get out is a half-strangled “mmh” as he starts to fuck me in earnest, and my hips move on their own to meet his thrusts. My back bends uncomfortably, and my skin burns where it cuts into the edge of the counter, but Louis helps by holding my hips, almost lifting me into the air as his cock punches in and out of me. It’s so thick, so perfect. I feel myself clutching him back inside every time he pulls back. Sweat drips from his forehead, and his breaths come in quick, sharp bursts.

“Isn’t that right?” He lets go of my hips and grasps my jaw, and his eyes bore into mine. “Aren’t you a needy little boy?”

“Y-Yes,” I gasp, and I’m so close, I’m so insanely close—

Louis flips me over, and I barely have the presence of mind to grab onto the counter as he enters me again, his cock sliding even deeper, so deep it almost hurts.

“I’ll give you what you want, always,” he grunts. “My needy boy. My needy, beautiful boy.”

His heavy balls slam against my buttocks, and he grabs hold of my hair, twisting my body so our lips can meet.

“Want to watch you come,” he growls into my mouth. “Want that ass to squeeze my cum out.”

He reaches down and closes his fist around my aching dick. His hand is so big that he can envelop the whole thing, and it feels incredible every time. I cry out with my orgasm as I shoot into his fist, and his grip loosens as release flows through him as well.

“Don’t pull out,” I plead. “Just hold me. Hold me like this for a bit.”

He sighs into my shoulder, his sweaty forehead slick against my skin as our heartbeats slow. He holds me, tight and unrelenting, providing me with the warmth and safety I need. The attention. The love.

Maybe not that last thing though. Maybe he doesn’t ache for me the same way I ache for him. Probably not. Who would?

Who would? Aaron used to come at me with these exact words whenever I protested or complained about his cruelty. Who would ever love you but me, huh? You’re helpless without me.

I shake my head to rid myself of his incessant voice, and before I have time to change my mind, I ask the question I so desperately want an answer to.

“Would you have killed them for me, Louis? If I’d asked?”

Louis shifts, his softening cock still buried inside me, and I feel some of his cum seep out of my hole and trickle down my thighs. “Of course I would.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I thought you’d be scared. I thought you’d be scared of…of me.”

I turn around, and his face is shut off from emotion, save for the tenseness of his jaw.

“I’ll never be scared of you, Louis. Not really. I know you won’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that.” The words wrench out of him with a sincerity that takes me aback.

Is he that scared of hurting me?

Not knowing what to say, I cup his face with both hands. As I slide my fingers through his beard and hair, I realize they’ve both grown longer, and I love how it makes him look even wilder than when we first met.

“ I don’t know that,” he whispers, and I’ve almost forgotten what we were talking about, too distracted by the feel of his beard tickling my knuckles.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, not knowing what else to say, not knowing what else to do other than to reach up and kiss him.

Louis moves his lips hesitantly against mine, with none of his usual hunger. He kisses me as if I’m a small, fragile thing, and for the first time, I understand: Even if I wouldn’t care if he hurts me physically, he’s terrified of the same, which must mean that if I let him hurt me, I’d hurt him too.