209: Left Cold

on May 5, 2008 in Book 8

In Which Ian Is Such A Dick

Ian acted like he was going to freak out after I threw up on him. He yelled “Sick!” and lifted up his foot. It quivered in front of my face for a moment and I thought for sure he was going to kick me.

Do it, I begged silently. Kick me. Beat me. Stomp me into the ground.

My stomach was churning and there was nastiness drooling from the corners of my mouth but I was so fucking horny. I wanted sex and I wanted pain and I wanted them right now.

He didn’t, though. He turned away and kicked at the bench and then at the wall, screaming profanity and kicking. I crawled after him, hoping he’d turn his attention to me. At one point he stepped on my outstretched fingertips by accident.

The pain was dull and muted, and slow to reach my brain. I stuck the fingers in my mouth and sucked on them as if I could taste it. I couldn’t, but I didn’t taste bad myself.

Distracted by this and by the wonderful tingling sensation in my fingers, I lost track of Ian at that point. When I realized this, I started thrashing and flailing around in a panic when my eyes couldn’t find him inside the steam room. My hand made contact with the leg of his jean and I looked up at him, following the length of his legs, over his waist, up his stomach, and into his face.

He towered over me, looking down.

Man.

I wanted him.

“Get the fuck off!” he yelled when I tried to pull him down with me.

He kicked my hand off with his other foot and then stomped on my fingers. Sweet pain burst inside me, lighting up the insides of my eyes like cherry blossoms.

“More,” I begged, then coughed and choked as some more of my dinner came up.

Everything was a confusing jumble after that. A monster seemed to have risen up in my stomach all at once and wasn’t showing any sign of settling down. Ian was swearing and yelling, and I was crying. He used my towel to clean up the puke and then fought me into my clothes, all the while I insisted I didn’t want to get dressed and wasn’t going anywhere.

After he shouted and argued with some dwarves, I was grabbed by strong, short arms and blindfolded. Things got really choppy after that. Obviously we got back to Harlowe somehow, but I couldn’t tell you much about the trip, and whether I went under my own power or not. I’m pretty sure I threw up again at least once, though.

I felt like I was going to throw up some more in the Harlowe stairwell, but by this point my stomach was empty and so it was just painful heaving. We stopped—Ian was still with me—and he supported me until the cramps passed.

My eyes were swimming with tears and my throat and nostrils burned. I was trying to apologize to Ian for throwing up on him, but it was all coming out sobs. I couldn’t understand what he was saying in response. It was like listening to somebody talking on the other side of a wall.

He got me upstairs and to my room, where there was a lot of fumbling in my pants which led me to fumble for his fly. I didn’t understand why he kept pushing my hands away until he finally got my key out of my pocket.

I kept at it, though. In between the waves of nausea and dizziness, I still wanted him to fuck me, still wanted him to pound into me…

“You’re not supposed to be here!” Two shrieked as Ian dragged me into the room. Her voice cut through the fog in my head like a searchlight, and just like that, sound returned to my world. “You’re not supposed to…”

“Two… back the fuck off,” Ian said, and she shuffled obligingly back a few steps.

“What did you do to her?”

“She did this to herself,” Ian said. “Go get a glass of water.”

“Okay,” Two said, grabbing a big plastic cup and heading for the door. “But you aren’t supposed to be here.”

“Oh, stick a sock in it,” Ian said, tipping me onto my bed and tugging on my shoes.

“Apple,” I murmured.

“What?”

“Stick an apple in it,” I said, and snorted. It hurt. “Or a fork.”

“Mackenzie, I want you to drink some water before you go to sleep,” Ian said. “Okay?”

“Don’t wanna,” I said. I tugged at his shirt, trying to get him into bed with me.

“Trust me, you’ll feel better in the morning if you do.”

“Wanna fuck.”

“Yeah, you already did that, remember?” Ian said. “Only I wasn’t there.” He started pulling off my shirt, and I tried to help him. “Stop it,” he said, grabbing my hands. “You’re going to tear it!”

“I am not,” I said. “Leave me alone. I can do it.” I got the shirt off and held it up to show him. “See?”

“Great, you just tore the fuck out of it,” Ian said, throwing it aside. “You wrecked your shirt. Mackenzie, will you please settle down?”

You settle down,” I said.

“She looks drunk,” Two said, returning to the room. “She has been drinking. She is too young to drink and there isn’t supposed to be drinking on campus anyway.”

“Two, seriously… fuck off,” Ian said, turning around to face her and take the cup from her. “It’s not the time.”

“Don’t you tell her to fuck off!” I said. “Don’t you tell her!”

“Yeah, don’t you tell me to fuck off,” Two said.

I got up from the bed to give him a piece of my mind. My feet got tangled up with the blankets and with my jeans, which were somehow pulled halfway down my legs. Had Ian done that when I wasn’t paying attention? Tricky. I wanted to fuck so bad.

“Fuck, Mackenzie, just stay in bed. Please,” Ian said. He handed the water back to Two and reached down towards me.

“Get your hands off of me, you asshole!” I said, kicking my feet and backing away.

“What, do you want to sleep on the floor?” Ian asked.

“No,” I said. “Why are you being such a dick?”

“I’m trying to help.”

“You want to make me sleep on the floor,” I pointed out. “It’s cold down here.”

“I don’t,” he said. “I want to get you back up in your bed.”

“You said… you said…” I said, trying to remember what he had said. He’d definitely been in favor of me sleeping on the floor.

He sighed.

“Can you get up?”

“I don’t want to!” I said.

“Do you want Two to help you?” he asked.

I found her with my eyes. Her cami top had a big bow on the front and I snickered. That was funny, for some reason. I couldn’t remember why, but it was hilarious. Two, tied up with a bow.

“Two, help her out,” Ian said.

“Okay,” Two said. She handed the water to Ian and knelt down beside me, putting her arms around me, under mine.

There was something different about the way she smelled. Good different, not bad different. Something sweet and clean, and comforting. Her scent enveloped me.

“Oof,” she said, heaving as she struggled to pull me upright. “Mack, you have to help me. I’m not that strong.”

I put my hands on her shoulder and forearm and tried to use her to push myself up.

“Ow,” she said. “Please be careful.” She was so fucking whiny. I hated her whining little voice. “You’re hurting me.”

You be careful,” I retorted. “You’re hurting me.”

“I don’t think I am,” Two said.

We got me up on my feet with my legs straightened underneath me. They shook and then buckled when she let go, and I clung to her.

“You smell good,” I said, drinking in the sweetness.

“Mackenzie…” Ian said warningly.

“Thank you,” Two said. “It’s vanilla body spray. Steff gave it to me. She said I eat so much candy, I might as well smell like candy.”

“Candy,” I echoed dreamily.

“Two, get away from her,” Ian said.

“I do not would like to get away from her,” Two snapped, turning her head around to face him, stretching her creamy white neck out beside my face. “And if I let go of her, she’ll fall, so…”

My stomach was settling down a little bit. I thought that maybe all it really needed was something inside it. I opened my mouth.

“Mackenzie, no!” Ian roared, charging into us. He pushed Two aside and punched me square in the jaw. I reeled. The world started to fade out, but when it came back around I forced my eyes to focus on the thing that had hurt me.

I growled and lunged, but my legs were all fucked up and Ian just stepped aside, letting me hit the floor. It was all wet for some reason. He was on my back before I knew I was down. Two was screaming, a single shrill unmodulated sound, like a fire alarm going off.

“Two, shut up!” he barked, and she did.

He grabbed one of my flailing arms and pinned it around behind my back.

“I’m sorry, Mackenzie, but this is for your own good,” he said, and I felt him jam something onto my finger. My mind registered the cold metal circle of the ring as the cold slammed into my nether regions.

“Yes,” I breathed as the deathly chill overtook me. I knew what this meant. We were going to do it. We were going to fuck. I could find something to eat after that.

If I could move. Already my arms and legs were locking up, freezing in place. The cold… the awful cold… it was killing me. Why was Ian doing this to me? Why?

“Help me get her into bed,” Ian said to Two, and in spite of the painful cold biting at my insides, I could have cried for joy. Getting into bed. Yes. That was what I wanted. Getting in bed with Ian. He pulled my jeans down the rest of the way off my stiffening legs. Yes.

“What did you do?” Two asked.

“Ring of protection,” Ian said. “She shouldn’t be able to move for an hour or so. Hopefully she’ll pass out for the night before then. Um… you’ll probably want to sleep some place else tonight.”

“No,” Two said.

“Well, I’m going to sleep in here on the floor, just in case. Do you have any extra blankets or anything that I can use? I don’t want to take hers. She looks pretty cold.”

“No. I think we should put some pajamas on Mack.”

“So she’ll be warmer?”

“So she’ll be prettier.”

“Oh, leave her alone.” The world was starting to go dark again. “Two, I said… hey, what are those, up on the top shelf?”

“Blankets. But they aren’t for you.”

The words were already starting to lose their meaning, and though they continued for some time, I was no longer able to identify them. The world faded out, leaving me with nothing but cold and wet, and soon enough, without even that.


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6 Responses to “209: Left Cold”

  1. pedestrian says:

    A pitcher of boilermakers would fuck me up that bad.

    good times.

    the worst lies a man will tell are the ones he tells to himself.

    Current score: 0
    • Athena says:

      I’ve never been fucked up that bad. Then again, while I get tipsy very quickly, drunk is much more difficult for me to reach anyway… probably at least in part because of how much I need to keep drinking just to maintain the tipsy. Fast metabolism.

      Current score: 1
  2. Anthony says:

    Wow. Weaponized contraception.

    Current score: 7
  3. Moridain says:

    I like Ian a lot, especially in moments like this. I know quite a few people who would have said ‘fuck it’ long before this.

    Current score: 4
    • Anon says:

      Ian, Two, and Dee are the ones who are sensible and get shit done, while simultaneously putting up with all the bullshit coming out of Mack, Amaranth, and Steff.

      And I suppose Victor, but we’ve seen a lot less of him so his being sensible and getting shit done must be inferred from the fact that Steff is still alive and sort of functional.

      Current score: 2
  4. Athena says:

    Independence in Two is good… but geez,reading this time through this chapter makes me want to slap some sense into her.

    Current score: 0