Chapter 9: Holly (Part II)

The great exceptions of love, life and family

     “Excuse, how are we getting to...”
     “Russia; and we’re walking.”
     “Excuse me?”
     “Russia, it’s a country in the top end, you do know where that is right?” I retracted my claws and words of distain and just continue walking up the road.
     “Um Holly it’s the other way.”
     “I knew that.”
     “Holly?” he mummers to himself, beside me now, I little too close. I didn’t respond he was most likely questioning himself. He gazed upon me every now and then -it made me uncomfortable. My breath came short then was nonexistent not even a kilometre into our trek to the other side of the Mediterranean Sea and into the top end.
     “No, why should I.” I say stoping dead and starting to trek back in the opposite direction. I don’t even know this man and I’m not just going to leave the country with him. I’m going home where I’ll be safe.
     “Hey! Holly, come back here!” he booms like I was some disobedient infant. I just started running on pure adrenalin more than the fitness I did not have. I didn’t want this. I can’t do this, what is wrong with me? I’m just a kid; I couldn’t defend myself if he tried anything. I needed a protector someone who would comfort me, who knows who I am and cares about my needs, my thoughts.
     I was head over heels before I knew it. His tight biceps squeezed my abdomen, my hair swung like Sergeant’s mane. I could feel the blood rushing to my head. He does know I’m not a dead deer? And that if he continues like this I will pass out? Or is that his objective? I found myself tempted to grab his jeans, they give off that crisp new smell and the buttocks they covered is just so rigid and desirable. That’s disgusting. Have I lost my mind? This is the strange man my Nan has entrusted my life with. It must be the lack of oxygen to my brain or something. Like instinct he flips me the right way up and I slide down his chest, my feet find the floor once more. He looks down upon my eyes that wear the sight of a thousand battles. I force myself to look away but cannot force myself to walk, I feel dizzy and his hands upon my hips to stable me. He whistles and the sound of hooves shakes me. I look up and see Sergeant who stares at me excited; a white horse the one from my nightmare and a faded memory stands by his side.
     “Lacy.” I breathe.
     “What did you just say?”
     “Is she yours?” I ask in a daze at her beauty. Her body so soft and rich, she gleams silver in the afternoon light.