Elements of Pain Chapter Two Login to Kupika  or  Create a new account 

This diary entry is written by ‹Mad♥Hatter♥Love›. ( View all entries )
Previous entry: Element of Pain Chapter One in category (general)

Elements of Pain Chapter TwoCategory: My stories
Saturday, 14 November 2009
05:03:09 PM (GMT)
Dallas's father, Millen, shoves her in the car forcefully. Slamming the door, he
turns to the man in the front. "Stroggi, to the country house, please," Millen says.
  Dallas sobs harder. The country house? That's where they were last time when
he...she can't think of it. And, Stroggi, the Russian body builder who was paid off
not to tell anybody about her and her dad. 
  Millen slaps Dallas. She feels the stinging pain in her cheek and eye. He glares at
her. "Shut the fuck up, slut," he growls. He's a vampire, too. A hot vampire, Dallas
would say if he was not her father. Or, thirty, going on 340. And if he hadn't...she
shudders with the memory.
  His hands work his way up her leg to her bikini bottom. "Sweetheart, what have you
done to yourself?" he asks, voice gentle. If he hadn't been touching her like that,
it would've sounded like a concened parent. "I admit, the tattoos give you that extra
edge. But Daddy's baby shouldn't cover up that body. It's so nice. Unlike your
mother--she was fat. You do know that's why I killed her right?"
  Dallas nods, falling into that old pattern. She sniffles and lets him talk. His
hands leave her cold and hot. Hot on the outside, but cold on the inside. Like she's
dead. Or dying. Slowly freezing her to death. She closes her eyes as his hand traces
the tattoo that goes down her butt. 
  "Ahhh, what is this? I am not the only person you fuck, sweetie?" he asks, voice
joking and light, but angry. Possessive. "'Damaged'? What a wonderful thing to put on
your butt, don't you think, Stroggi?"
  Stroggi shakes his head. "No, sir, I believe it's not. I don't think she's damaged,
  "Me either. Let's see if I can prove to her how not damaged she is..." Millen
  He kisses her roughly on the mouth. "Stop the car, Stroggi. Never forget you're my
hoe, Dallas. In this world, you don't pick who you fuck, Alley Cat." 
  Alley Cat. That name. The one she was born with her. Her mother's name for her.
Tears flood to Dallas's eyes. He killed her because she was too fat? How could he?
   His hands travel up her leg, to the back of her knee. She sobs harder. Millen
doesn't notice, but keeps kissing his daughter, moving down to her boobs.
  Someone knocks on the window. 
  Dallas looks at him with wide eyes. She knows better not to think he's help. Kenny
caught them, too, but Dad somehow got Kenny on his side. Kenny wouldn't testify
against him. And Stroggi was easily paid off. Plus, Damon handed her to Millen. How
could she even get the tiniest bit hopeful he's help?
  Her dad doesn't unlock the door, but tells Stroggi to start moving. Damon glares
and grabs the handle, rattling it. "Either open the door, or I'll break it," he
  Her dad laughs. "Son, you don't have the balls or the strength."
  Dallas watches with grim amusement when the door goes flying off the car with a
loud screeching noise. Her dad pales. She stays still. Her top is off and she feels
so violated. So used. So bad. 
  Damon grabs Millen and throws him out of the car. Damon glares at Stroggi. "You
want some, too? I'm not afraid of either of you. I suggest both of you to stay away
from the girl. If I ever catch wind of you two within three miles of her, I'll have
both of you Reported and killed," he snarls. He grabs Dallas's top and throws it at
  She struggles to put it on. Her hands are shaking so hard. So hard. She takes a
moment to relax and take a breather. Damon pulls her towards him and hooks the top
for her with ease. The ease of someone who's done it plenty of times before.
  He lifts her up and over his shoulder. Millen glares at them, nose bloody. “Put
my girl down unless you want to die boy.”
  “I don’t want to die, sir, but I’m not putting her down either. I’m her new
Protector, I’m not doing that to her,” Damon growls.
  “Protector? Please!” Millen scoffs. “How are you going to Protect her? You
can’t Protect yourself! You’re weak!”
  “But strong enough to kick your ass, and rip your car door off. I’m not that
weak. Plus, she’ll be attending school at the Dormitory with me.” He stalks off
to his car and gets in. He buckles the shaking Dallas in.
  He pulls off.

Damon glares at the wall, so angry, so sad. He just gave her up to that….that man.
Her father. The rapist.
  His hands grip the steering wheel so tightly that his skin stretches across his
knuckles. He looks over at Dallas. She’s shivering, but silent and not crying like
she was with her father. Damon just wants her safe. 
   “Dallas?” he asks, taking her hand. She’s so warm.
   “Yeah?” Her voice is bored, blank, and distant.
   “Are you okay?”
   Something sparks in her eyes. They narrow and she glares at him. “What the hell
do ya think? My daddy just made out with me, kissed my boobs, and tried to fuck me!
Do you think I’m okay?” she growls. 
  He likes her angry. He likes the wild side of her. The true part. The only time she
doesn’t seem to be covering some emotion up. Plus, it’s better than her
distantness. “Just asking. People always ask that when they rescue someone.”
   “Rescue me?” Her voice is shrill. “I didn’t need rescuing! I was fine! I
could’ve handled him!”
   “Really, Dallas? He seemed out of control with you and you weren’t doing
anything! That guy—your father—looked like he wanted to eat you, Dee! I’m
sorry, Alley Cat 
   “What did you call me?” she asks, her voice small and low.
   “Dee? Alley Cat?”
   “Yes. Alley Cat. Why’d you call me that?”
   Damon has to think about that. He didn’t mean to call her that. It kind of just
slipped out. “I don’t know. It slipped out.”
   Her eyes widen. “Mama used to call me that. Alley Cat. She told me I was wild
and scar of people. I am. I used to do things on my own, too. Didn’t have many
friens. People didn’t like me. I become mean. A bitch. I used to leave my Mark.
Kissing guys or making them want more and leaving.”
  “I believe you’re an actual cat,” Damon says, slowly. “You were running
pretty fast that day. And you have the temperament of one.”
  She laughs bitterly. “Whatever, Damon. Whatever.”
  “Do you mind if I call you that? Alley Cat?”
   She looks at him, smiles, and winks. “Only if I can have your cowboy hat.”
   He sticks a hand out. “Deal.”

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