Terror (Part 1 of the Valeska Series)

Strange Ginger

✮ a c c a l i a POV✮

The smell of alcohol and cigarettes are the first things to hit me as I step into the trailer. It's a perfume that lingers on all who enter here, and it's one that is hard to remove. It's bitter and eye watering if you're not used to it, and it catches in your throat when you try to breathe - an attempt to suffocate no matter who the unwilling victim is. Aside from the stench, the trailer is unnaturally clean. There are no shards of broken glass, cigarette butts, or even blood stains anywhere on the walls or floor; the washing has been done and put away; the couches are even clean.

Jerome notices my gaze sweeping the trailer. "It looks different, doesn't it?"

"Is this what you were talking about earlier?" I ask with a stiff voice. "She made you clean the entire trailer? This was the whole 'nothing too bad' comment?"

"Half of it." He pulls off his shirt and my eyes instantly zone in on the bruises covering his body. "This is the other half."

"Ginger." I lightly run my blood stained fingers over the purple bruises. They're not as bad as usual, but they're still bad. "Damn it."

"I'm fine, Cali. I promise."

"You don't look fine. You look half dead!"

His hand grips the one of mine that's tentatively tracing the bruise on his torso. I fight the instinct to wince when his fingers graze over the gash on my palm, but he notices the pain flare in my eyes. Jerome turns my hand over and glares down at the wound, his eyes darkening in rage. Tightening his hold slightly, he drags me into his room, slamming the door shut behind us and then turning to me with possessiveness and pure, unadulterated rage glowing in his green eyes.

His hands deftly remove his jacket from my body, quickly followed by my shirt. His gaze runs over my body, finding the wounds that the intruder left on my body this morning. Aside from the gashes, he notices the bruises from where the intruder had launched himself onto me. When noticing them, Jerome's eyes take on a whole new level of rage that I wasn't sure existed. His hands ball into fists and his chest heaves as he fights to steady his breathing and stop from breaking something.

"I'm fine, Ginger," I assure, gently touching his arm. "I promise."

His hands grasp my wrists and pins me to the wall, his dark eyes boring into mine. "He touched something that wasn't his to touch. He hurt someone who didn't deserve it. He hurt someone I care about. That can never be forgiven."

"Don't go getting all possessive of me. I am not yours either. Keep that little fact in mind, psycho."

"Oh. Did I hit a nerve? Don't like being tied down, do you?"

"I am no one's possession. I am not a thing for someone to keep locked away."

"Is that so, Accalia?"

I glare into his green eyes, not backing down. "Back the hell off, Jerome."

He moves his mouth to my ear, his warm breath hitting my cool skin. "Is that really what you want, little terror? Are you sure you don't want someone to dominate you?"

I shudder at the tone in his voice and dig my nail into my palms, fighting the urge to give in to what he is insinuating. A chill sweeps my body as his lips brush against the sensitive skin below my ear, and my eyes flutter closed at the sensation, my body acting of its own accord. It presses itself against Jerome and I hear him chuckle, his grip tightening on my wrists. I grit my teeth and force my body away from his - I won't give him the pleasure of having me submit to him. I am not his.

Building up my strength, I shove my body against his with enough force that he releases my wrists and stumbles back a few steps. creating a nice distance between us. His green eyes glitter with amusement as they stare into my blue-green ones. He knew that I would force him off, and that I would have a hard time bringing myself to do so. Despite everything we've been through as friends, there has always been this underlying s****l tension between us.

With that tension has come quite a few moments like these, and they're starting to become more provocative and suggestive than usual. Jerome's sexually active. That's no secret. He knows that I won't give into him, so he finds others to release his pent up s****l desires on. That's fine with me. After all, I have no intent to being with Jerome in any way more than what we are now. Although that may be true, I can see what Jerome and my relationship would be like if we got together.

Every day would be a new adventure. It would be living life on the edge. No one would be able to tell us no, or stop us from being together and who we are. On the other hand, we'd get in many an argument and fight because of our differing points of view and opinions on how we should do things. If the arguments and what occur after are anything to go by, I am almost certain that we'd end up f*****g after every single one. It would be rough and merciless; using each other to let out our frustrations and anger at each other.

"What's going on in that twisted mind of yours, little terror?"

I stare into Jerome's swirling green eyes. "Nothing that would be amusing to you."

Jerome smirks, walking straight over to me and halting only an inch in front of me. "That I really doubt. Your mind has the most amusing things occurring in it. Do tell. Remember, we have no secrets here."

"You had to pull that on me."

He grins and lets out a small, crazy laugh.

"Fine," I sigh. "I was thinking about us."

"Ooh. Interesting. Continue."

"I was thinking, hypothetically, if we ever got together what we would be like; what life would be like."

Jerome sits down on his bed and hums in thought. "Now that is interesting. What do you think we would be like, Cali?"

I sit on his desk chair and shrug lightly. "I think that every day would be a new adventure; it would be living life on the edge. No one would be able to tell us no, or stop us from being together and who we are. On the other hand, we'd get in so many arguments and fights because of our different views and opinions. If the arguments and what occur after right now are anything to go by, I am almost certain that we'd end up f*****g after every single one. It would be rough and merciless; using each other to let out our frustrations and anger at each other. That's what it would be like. We'd be a house on fire."

Jerome stays silent, his brow furrowed and his forest green eyes contemplative. He is taking everything I said to heart, and is not even trying to hide his growing fascination with the idea of us being together. Leaving him to his thoughts, I get up off the desk chair and leave his room. I close the door behind me and shiver when the cold air hits my skin. I forgot that I had no shirt on. Shivering, I walk over to my suitcase and get out some clean clothes. I seriously need a shower.

I close the bathroom door and sigh, staring into the mirror. There's dried blood on my face. I let out a breath and shake my head, turning away from the mirror and getting undressed. I drop the clothes onto the floor and step into the tiny shower. It still surprises me that the trailers have showers in them. The size of them still baffles me - especially this one. Then again, both Lila and Jerome have to live here. So it makes sense that they'd get one of the bigger and better trailers to accommodate them both.

Turning the water on, I wait for it to heat up. It takes almost a minute, but it's worth it. The temperature is perfect once I fiddle with the taps for a little, and the water pressure is almost as good as the penthouse's. Scrubbing at the dried blood on my hands, it begins to change the clear water into some scene from a horror movie where the killer washes the blood from their hands. I squeeze my eyes shut and scrub harder, ignoring the stinging pain of my palm as I rip off the half formed scab. A sob escapes me as it all hits me at once, and my knees give out.

II slide down the wall of the shower and land on the floor with a thump. "f**k it all."

The bathroom door opens and Jerome pokes his head in. "Are you alright, Cali?"

"I-I'm fine."

"No you're not." He steps in and closes the door behind him, sitting on the closed toilet. "Tell me what's going on."

"It's just all hitting me now. I guess the shock's worn off."

He stays silent, letting me continue without interruption.

"I don't get it, ginger. I've killed people before, and it's never made me flinch. They deserved it - they almost beat me to death. He deserved it too, but I feel guilty about killing him. This makes no sense. Those children from the adoption center... The intruder... What's the difference between them? What the f**k is the difference? None of this makes any sense!"

"I can't say there is much difference between these killings. After all, every single person you've killed has hurt you in some way, shape, or form within a few minutes of their demise." Jerome sighs, shuffling around slightly. "I don't know what to say, Cali."

I stare at the blood seeping from my palm. "You can let me know if I can stay here for a few days. Barbara's place is still a crime scene, and it's covered in blood. None of us can go back there until it's all done."

"Jesus, Cali. You know you don't have to ask if you stay here. You can stay whenever you want, for as long as you want. No one is going to stop you from being here. Plus, it'll keep my mother at bay for however long you're here."

"Neither her nor her f**k buddies will be laying a hand on you while I'm around. I'll f*****g kill them if they do."

"I know you will, but not my mother. Her time is coming soon."

"How soon? At this rate, you'll be dead before you get around to killing her."

He laughs. "She can try kill me. I'll bet that she can't deliver that final blow though."

I turn off the water and shake my head, reaching out for my towel. "I don't doubt that."

A fluffy object is placed in my grip and I bring it back into the small shower, wrapping it around my scarred body. Stepping out, I almost slip on the slightly wet floor, but Jerome grips my arm tightly to prevent me from falling. At that, I give him a look telling him to leave so I can get changed, and all he does is smirk. He stands and moves closer to me, one of his hands resting on my waist above the towel. I stare up at him with a flat look, not amused at his actions.

"Why are you asking me to leave?" Jerome hums, his fingers dancing on my wet arm and going down towards the top of the towel. "You can't tell me you haven't fantasized, or even had a passing thought, about this."

I grip the towel tighter, preventing it from being pulled away. "Jerome, get out. There is no way in hell you're getting what you want from me. Not right now anyway. Maybe one day, but not this day."

"I'll hold you to that, Accalia."