**A/N: 1: I normally don’t load my chapters down with pics or gifs because I know how badly it can affect the loading speed on some systems and how distracting it can be while reading, but, that being said, this chapter is loaded with pics. Why, you probably didn’t ask? Well, Sookie is pissed (see 2nd item…), and we are, for the most part, an Eric-lovin’ bunch, but put up your pitchforks anyway. (Please!) These pics should serve to remind us of exactly WHY she’s rightfully feeling so angry and betrayed. And on that note, 2: If you are offended by strong language (hell, who am I kidding: lots and lots of cussin’), first of all, why are you reading MY writing? Srsly, though, you may not want to read further if for some reason you find cursing offensive. Sookie is pissed fucking off, and she’s lettin’ it fly, so consider yourself warned. Oh, and I don’t consider this ‘angst’ – just anger…lots and lots of anger…plus more anger.**
“It’s Sookie Brigant, actually,” she replied coldly as she glared into his light blue eyes. She most certainly had neither forgiven nor forgotten how he’d treated her during the dungeon and fang-raping incidents as well as the excuses he’d later tried to shove down her throat.
She leaned against the doorjamb obviously having no intentions of letting him enter her suite, and folded her arms across her chest as the sound of his voice brought back so many memories…bad memories.
She instinctively stiffened her spine before adding through gritted teeth, “Eric fucking Northman. Thrown any more innocent people into your filthy dungeon then fang-raped them lately?”
Brigant? Oh, fuck, Eric thought, then refocused his attention as she continued. This was not going to go as easily as he had hoped, apparently.
His face subtly fell as her words continued, and for the barest of fleeting moments Sookie almost felt a bit sorry for her blunt if indirect accusations.
There were simply too many memories…
Eric visibly recoiled from the bitter cold tone of her sarcastic pseudo-query, then straightened back up and squared his shoulders. While he knew he deserved it and possibly, maybe, more, he couldn’t help but try to justify his horrific actions that strange day. If only he could get her to listen to him, she would have to believe him.
“Sookie,” he started to explain, his voice strong with purpose. “You know why I…”
The Fairy interrupted his impending justification with a snort of disdainful disgust. “Which part are you still trying to excuse, Eric – the part where you kidnapped me? The part where you falsely imprisoned me in your filthy-assed dungeon? The part where you chained me like one of your common whores or V dealers? The part where you encouraged Russell to fang-rape me? The part where you fang-raped me? The lies? Or are you still trying to justify the betrayal of any trust I might ever have had in you? You do know that I can still remember you fuckers sucking down my blood like rabid animals, right? Fuck you, Eric. You didn’t even bother healing the holes you jabbed into my neck in your rush to help Russell drain me – you just left me bleeding on the table.”
She shook her head after she finished her barrage; Eric would never change. He would always see only what he wanted to see which was whatever gave him an advantage or an opportunity to use someone – obviously whether they wanted to be used or not. At one time she had almost fooled herself into thinking that there were kinder, gentler layers beneath a hardened topping of leather and fangs, but no, there hadn’t been. He was just as cold, slimy, inconsiderate, and manipulative as she had first thought.
Well, his nights of taking advantage of her were over. Fuck being vampire crack…
“You know what? Forget it,” she ordered the stunned silent, guilty-looking, wide-eyed vampire. “You’re never going to change. It’s always going to be about you, you, and you. Even now,” she spat, “you’re still trying to justify abusing me and betraying my trust in you. And for what purpose? So you can pretend to be my friend again? Why, just so you can set me up to fuck me over again? My life is not a damn game, Eric, yet you fucking stood there and smiled at how terrified I was while you were all but begging Russell to fang-rape me. Or did your famous vampire memory conveniently forget that part?”
She paused during the memory, then continued on more forcefully, “I don’t fucking think so, asshole. You had your chance, Eric, so why don’t you just go on back to your shitty little bar and find someone else to fuck over. I’m done with you.”
Shocked at her anger but knowing that he really shouldn’t be – everything she said was painfully true even if he hadn’t wanted to think too hard about it – Eric frantically tried to come up with something to say to smooth over this situation. He knew fucking Compton would be along soon – if he had felt her arrive then he knew Billy Boy would, too – and he had to make what progress he could before The Wuss King arrived. Surely he could think of something…he was known for being suave and his lines had never failed him before now, well, except with…Sookie. He could practically feel the violent disgust and disdainful rage flowing from her small frame. Considering the weak but surprisingly intact bond, he probably was.
“Actually, I don’t own Fangtasia anymore. I gave it to Pam about a month after you…disappeared.” What he would never admit was just how badly the memories of his betrayal of her, the scent of her abject terror, and the taste of her delightful blood had haunted him and that he could no longer tolerate spending any amount of time in that God-forsaken pile of fangbanger body fluids. Pam seemed to have bought his line about being bored and wanting to do something new. The bar was now painted Pepto pink and served drinks with useless umbrellas in them.
And still smelled like Sookie’s fear.
He ran a hand through his hair and tried to remember how to make “puppy dog eyes” so he could use them on her. She was much angrier than even he’d originally thought, and he needed an in with her fast.
“Oh, your bitch progeny who aided and abetted in your betrayal of me? Niiiice. That fucking asshole just stood around staring at a screen while Bill begged and begged her to unchain him so he could SAVE MY FUCKING LIFE. She didn’t even pretend to hear him until I was all-but dead. And I should know – I had an out of body experience while I was dying on that table where you served me up like fucking dinner to yourself and that deranged lunatic. I hope the damn place burns down around her and takes that fucking bitch with it.”
Finally getting a clue that Sookie was in no mood to talk to him, much less forgive him, Eric inhaled her scent deeply and prepared to retreat gracefully…for now. Discretion was, after all, the better part of valor. Besides, it appeared he had a bone to pick with darling Pamela.
“I am sorry, Sookie. Please, forgive me.” He said solemnly before turning to walk away, then stopped to face her once again.
“Why aren’t you in Bon Temps, in your house?” He had been curious when he sensed her in Shreveport rather than in Bon Temps. The faint remainder of the bond between them had been just enough to notify him of her arrival and to locate her. As weak as it was, he had been amazed when it had managed to wake him up at all during the day.
She cocked that brow he was beginning to despise. “I don’t have a house in Bon Temps,” she spat, her temper clearly rising.
“Yes, you do. When it became apparent that you weren’t returning any time soon, I bought it so that I could fix it up and keep it maintained for you.” Please let this work, he mentally chanted. He had to get her back on his side before too long – there was another conference coming up and she would be a very valuable asset. He doubted he’d lose her skills to Compton considering how badly he had treated her, but still – it wasn’t a risk he wanted to take.
“No, Eric,” she replied with a laugh as she rolled her eyes. It was not a pretty laugh. “You bought my mortgage – which didn’t need to be sold in the first place since my fairy relatives were already paying the fucking taxes, insurance, and utilities – just because you thought it might give you some pathetic sort of power over me. Looks like you have a run-down piece of shit in Bon Temps to deal with now, doesn’t it? Goodnight, Eric.” She leveled a very serious glare at his darkening blue eyes. “And don’t bother coming back.”
With that Sookie slammed the door in his shocked face. He shook his head – he was getting awfully tired of doors being slammed in his face no matter how much he deserved it.
Damn it but he really had thought that he could use that decaying old homestead to his advantage. He had been hoping to use the high-quality restorations and renovations as a way of apologizing and getting back into her good graces, but failing that, he had planned to use it to force her to work for him thereby giving him not only her services, but also time to get her to listen to his reasons…and get her to forgive him. She had the most delicious blood, that was true, but that light in her eyes, that spark of vitality and attitude and…fuck.
Apparently he was now stuck with a beautifully refinished… piece of shit in lovely rural Bon Temps. At least it had a safe place for him to rest if he needed it.
Head bowed, lips pursed, he turned to leave and, as he was exiting the hotel…lo and behold but who should he see: King Bill Fucking Compton creeping in one of the hotel’s side doors.
Eric smirked. For some reason he doubted that the incompetent monkey-faced bastard would fare any better than he had.
Eric frowned. How the hell am I going to get past her anger? And why do I really care? As badly as his own tail was tucked between his legs, though, he had to laugh when he imagined Compton’s upcoming reception.
Eric sighed when he once again remembered his own. Looks like I have a long road ahead of me…
Sookie’s ears were still ringing from the sound of the slammed door reverberating down the hallway as she turned back to the suite’s den area. Her mind was still reeling from Eric’s idiotic and insulting audacity.
Who the fuck does he think he is? Does he really think that I would be so damn stupid and spineless as to forgive him for kidnapping me and throwing me in his fucking dungeon? For chaining me up and holding me prisoner just so he could encourage damn Russell Cockface Edgington to fang-rape me – and then fang-raping me his own fucking self?? And then he had the nerve to COMMAND me to babysit that fucker? What the hell kind of mentally-incompetent moron is he?
She grabbed her bottled water and took a violent swig, then laughed at herself for the action. Back for mere hours and damn vampires are already making me homicidal.
Just as she grabbed her purse to go find a place to have a nice, quiet dinner, she heard another knock. She tossed said purse on the elegantly generic chair nearby and stomped over to the door.
**A/N: Yeah, could you tell that our Sook’s a little…peeved? Betcha can’t guess who’s come a’knockin’ on her door now, huh… And even though I’ve never written a story like this before, YES, this WILL HAVE an E/S HEA – I promise. I couldn’t write it otherwise, but I can’t promise it’ll happen fast, however. Thanks for reading, and as always, reviews are appreciated.**