The Punisher: Vendetta

When Dean and I pulled apart, I was only shocked for a moment.

"If this is some rebound bullshit, I will shoot you," I warn him.

"It's not," he assures me. "I-I admit that I wanted to fix things with her, but after my conversation with her, I realized that it came from guilt...especially after she told me about the pregnancy."

"...Pregnancy?"

"Yeah, she...she had been drinking, and she got into an accident," Dean explains. "They found out about the baby then."

"No wonder she's been so messed up," I whispered. "But what about you? How are you feeling about all of this?"

"I don't know," he sighs. "I'm only sure about two things: I'm not gonna stop until these assholes pay...and that my focus should have been on you."

We have been through so much since I found him on the run. I'm not naive. I knew something was between us, but it felt like an unnecessary risk at the time. We had been hunted relentlessly across the globe. But now...

"Aren't you going to say something?" He asks sheepishly.

"Sorry," I replied, clearing my throat. "I just, uh...I've thought about this once or twice, but we were looking over our shoulders for so long that I never considered it a possibility."

"And now?" He prompts me.

"Now...it could be...but Dean, this can't interfere with what we must do! Otherwise, this would have been for nothing!" I insist.

"I understand," he murmurs, pulling me close. "So what's our next move?"

"We don't have one yet," I sighed. "Not until the data can be decrypted. Billy is playing his role right now. He's probably waiting for instructions."

My phone went off with a news bulletin.

"Dean, turn on the news, please," I request.

He does so, and we sit on the couch as a somber reporter stands in front of a crime scene in a back alley.

"We don't have many details, as the NYPD is still investigating behind me. Krista Dumont was assigned to work with Billy Russo, recently released with conditions on her recommendation. Her body was discovered by an employee taking out the trash, and we must warn you...the killer appears to have abilities-"

I turned it off and looked up at him. "What does this mean? Does he have a Powered killer on his payroll?" I wonder.

"Even if he does, why would he have her killed?" Dean counters. "She's been pulling the strings to get him out...now he has to get another caseworker."

"...Then someone else did this," I surmise. "But who? None of us are Powered."

"It could be another vigilante," Dean guessed. "We don't know if someone in Frank's circle went rogue or any of New York's most violent decided to tag in."

"I saw Noah in the back of the alley," I recall. "We'll know more soon enough."

"How about I order some food while we wait?" He suggested.

"Yeah, I'd like that." I sighed, feeling content for the first time since I was pardoned.

Until Billy or Valhalla made a move, until Micro cracked the code, or until Nathan and Noah found a lead into Krista's murder, we were at a standstill. I've chosen to stay with her because I'll be damned if Russo gets his hands on her again. Not while I'm still breathing.

She seems to have steadied herself since he messed with her at the gala, and she began to work on her story about it. She left out her speculation about his memory loss, but she added Krista's death and what little she knew about it. When she finished, I suggested that we work out. It would tire her out and keep her mind off of things.

We decided to work out in the gym closest to her apartment. Watching her bend over, squat and sweat for hours on end in those gym shorts put me in the mood to rip them off of her. She's tiny, but she's got curves and muscles in places I explored every chance I got. I was right; this was just what she needed. When we finished our last set, we headed back and got to the shower.

I watched her peel off her clothes before I shed mine. She shook out her hair, and she turned on the water to a temperature that we both preferred. Once she climbed inside, I joined her, and I'd already decided what I wanted to do to her. For now, I grabbed her shampoo to wash her hair.

She leaned into me, and she let out a soft gasp because she felt that I was hard and ready against her back. But for now, it's time to focus on her. She's told me that the "men" she's been with have been selfish with her before. Tonight, I was going to take my time.

I massaged her scalp as I washed her hair, and she sighed happily. I washed it out, and then I added her conditioner. As that needed to sit in her hair, I grabbed the loofah and body scrub she liked to wash the workout from her body. I took my time with her and noticed a few fresh bruises, so I handled them carefully. She's been training with Erykah or myself ever since this shit started.

She visibly relaxed, which was what I was aiming for. I spread the lather all over her body and gently washed her. She was sore from working out, but I had plans for that, too. Then I washed her hair out. She turned around to wash me in return, and she decided to run the loofah up and down my dick, and as much as I'd have enjoyed it, I stopped her.

She looked confused, but I had to clarify.

"Not yet," I tell her. "I have plans for you."

Once we were clean, I shut the water off, and we stepped out of the shower. I dry her off, but I tell her only to wear the towel. I wrap one around my waist and Iead her to our bedroom. I lay her down on her stomach, and I grab a bottle of oil. I poured some onto her shoulders, and they were tight. She's been stressed about a few things lately, and I felt it in the knots that I began to work on. She makes a soft noise between a sigh and a moan, and I remember to compose myself. I damn near flipped her and abandoned my plan.

There was an innocence to her that she held on to no matter what we did, and I was drawn to that...I liked that about her. Even if we were in the middle of an intense session, it was still a part of her. She worried that it would bore me. I loved it. She began to relax as the knots loosened in her shoulders. I moved on to her back, which was just as tight as her shoulders. She arched her back a bit, and I applied more pressure. She made another sound, and I had to hold on to my self-control.

I moved lower to her ass now.  I switched from the massage oil to a lube that she had bought. I've discovered aide to her that sbe must have kept to herself, and I enjoyed it. Not that she needed it, but this one was made to enhance her sensitivity.

She'd gotten curious and showed me things that interested her. This was one of them. I opened her legs slightly, and I applied the lube to a few of my fingers. I start massaging her folds and her clit. She bucked and gasped, and I assume that the lube made her feel something different. She was already responsive, but even more so. I hadn't penetrated her at all yet, and she was already wetter than usual.

  I had her turn over on her back, and I leaned down to kiss her. She jolts when I pick up the pace and makes an adorable noise between a squeal and a moan. The way she squirmed made me hard as fuck. One of her free hands slipped under my towel to stroke me. We hadn't been together for long, but the sounds she made and how her body reacted told me what I needed to know.

I grabbed one of her legs to gain better access. By now, her hips moved on her own, and she stroked me with more pressure. She made her hand as tight as possible, wanting to give me what I was giving her. I could tell she was getting close, and I told her to let go. Hmm. She came faster this way. I let up so she could catch her breath.

I took a moment to look at her: her skin was flushed. Her eyes were still a bit unfocused. Her drying hair fanned out over the pillows. She was wet and ready for me. Beautiful. I position myself at the edge of the bed, and I pull her legs to me. I put her thighs on my shoulders and keep her spread wide.

I dip down and give her one slow lick from top to bottom. The taste of her mixed with the strawberry lube was intoxicating. Taking my time was an exercise of self-control. I teased her clit with my tongue while I added my fingers. I didn't restrain her hips, so she moved how she liked, and it was sexy. Her breathing picks up, and I feel her clench around my fingers. That lube was effective because she was already close again. I pick up the speed until she moans loudly and comes again.

I get up and reposition ourselves in the center of the bed. I slide into her to the hilt quite easily, and to my shock, she clenches around me again. Using this lube in a rougher session would be interesting, but I'm not sure how long she'd last. She hooks her ankles around my waist, and I take her hands in mine as we start to move in unison. I lean down to kiss her, enjoying the sounds she made. Everything wasn't always about dominance, even though she still seemed to submit subconsciously. Except for now, she dug in her heels and squeezed my hands, signaling that she wanted me to go harder. I planned to. The lube made things interesting, but it took away from the friction we liked going at this pace.

So I pick it up, and I break the kiss to graze the spot on her throat, and she turns her head to give me access. By now, she was only able to let out breathless moans, and I heard my name, which spurned me to tease her by nibbling her neck.

Only when her legs were falling slightly, and I felt that she was close again while I was, did I mark her with my teeth and pound into her as hard as I ever had. When I let go, she looked down at me fucking her, and that was all it took for me. Soon, she followed, and I kept pumping until she rode out her orgasm. I pull out of her and lay by her side. We're both out of breath.

"Well, I got those knots out of your back," I quipped when I could speak.

"Yeah, I'd say so," she gasped.

"Who do you think did this?" I ask Nathan as we leave the crime scene.

"I'm not sure, but I could tell that the kill was impulsive," he mused. "This person has...super strength, but she was killed with one blow. She was slammed into the wall back there...but that didn't stop her killer. They kept going until there wasn't much of her left."

"Jesus," I swore. "Erykah never went to meet her, and I'm thankful for that."

"Wait, why didn't she?" He asks.

"She said she was exhausted," I explain. "I've noticed that. She hasn't been sleeping well. She trains a lot more now."

"I've seen a change in her, even before she returned from China," he states. "After losing Kimiko and Mimi...after you had disappeared...she buried herself so far into her work that she didn't come up for air until Lacey needed her. I wasn't any better. How could I have been? That was my wife. My daughter. I should have been. Seeing her after the subway attack and at the gala, I worry about her. She's going down the same path that you're on."

"Then you know the Triad will fall," I vow. "They're going to pay for what they've done, and they're going to regret working with Billy Russo!"

"...I don't want to get a call from work," he admits woodenly. "I can't lose either of you, too."

"I understand that," I assure him. "Look, we've got a team on this. We've got the Department of Homeland Security with us. We have a plan. It won't be like before."

"Let's hope not," he murmurs. "Because we have a Powered killer to deal with."

"What if this person is on our side?" I wonder. "I know it's not Jessica Jones. She's not a killer..."

"Then who could it be? And why not reach out to any of us? Why hide?" He fires off.

"We won't know anything until you get the lab results," I yawned.

"Get some rest," he sighs. "We're benched for now. I'll call you when I know something."

I nod as he pulls up in front of my apartment. The conversation with my brother is on my mind as I head upstairs. The smell of the incinerator greets me. I wonder who burned something this late at night? I unlock my door, and I head inside.

It was pitch dark and silent. Something felt off, and I couldn't explain it. I pulled out my gun as I crept around my home. There were signs that she'd been home: dishes were drying on the rack in the kitchen, and I smelled traces of her body wash in the air. But she never left the apartment dark anymore. She usually had oil diffusers running, and none of them were on.

The living room, kitchen, bathroom, and office were clear. The only room left was our bedroom. I led with my firearm and hit the light switch. The bed had been laid in, but it was cold. I felt a cold breeze from the window, which caused me to look up.

The blinds have been torn, and the screen looked as though it had been ripped off...what the hell? Where the hell is she? My phone rang before I could wrap my head around any of this.

"Micro?"

"Hey, you sound...what's going on?" He asks me.

"I-I'm not even sure," I admit.

"Well, when you have a chance, I need everyone to return to the warehouse," he urges me.

"Why?" I asked, not fully present for this conversation.

"I've decrypted some of the data," he reveals. "Rawlins and Schoonover plan to take Fisk's place."