Page 26

Alina:

Bash and I are sitting in his car in the Carl’s Jr. parking lot as we eat our takeout together in the dark. We haven’t said much since turning off the engine, the battery still running to play music for us. I’ve been shoving crisscut fries into my mouth for five minutes straight. Trauma dumping has got me starving. Bash bought way too much food, but I love him for it and I’m taking full advantage.

He looks so fucking hot as he shovels fried zucchini into his gorgeous mouth, grease and ranch dripping down his chin. He goes to wipe it off, but I’m already there, my tongue gathering everything in one quick swipe. He smiles at me before kissing me deeply, his mouth tasting like our meal.

“God, you even make eating cheeseburgers erotic,” I complain while he laughs. I sit back down in my seat with a small huff.

“I was eating fried zucchini,” he corrects me as I roll my eyes, shoving him with my hand. We laugh a little before silence falls over us. Bash clears his throat. “I was thinking maybe it’s time we talk about meeting with your friend who has access to the payroll,” he says quietly. I nod my head, ready to off that fucker Luke after our last encounter.

“I’ll text her now,” I reply, pulling my phone out. “I’m assuming I should keep my message brief. Should I just ask her to meet with us?”

“I think that’d be a good idea. Somewhere you don’t think Luke frequents,” he adds.

“Like a fucking church?” I suggest sarcastically. He shrugs.

“If that’s where he’s least likely to be. I just don’t want him catching on too quickly,” he replies.

I pause, not wanting to say what I’m about to.

“I know he’s been watching us, Bash. I’m worried he knows where you live.” It’s something I’ve been nervous about admitting since I started staying at Bash’s place.

“It would be more surprising if he wasn’t. But I honestly don’t see him making the first move, unless he catches you vulnerable and alone. I also think he’s too cocky to think that anyone would be stupid enough to attack him in his own home. So, I wanna be that stupid motherfucker,” he replies, biting into a Famous Star. His self-assuredness is hot as fuck, even though it scares the shit out of me to think of Bash putting his life on the line in any way. “If he comes for us, I’ll be ready. He can come at me, Lina Girl. I have thirty-two years of anger just waiting to be unleashed upon the right person. And Luke reminds me an awful lot of my father. I failed and didn’t kill him. Actually, I gave up on the idea. But I won’t fuck up when it comes to Luke. I will make him bleed for what he’s done to you. Or I’ll help you cut his fucking dick off if you want the honors, baby. It’s all for you. Whatever you want, you get.”

“Do you know what I really want?” I say as I climb over the center console and rest my elbows on the edge of it near Bash’s arm. His blue eyes meet mine as he leans forward to listen intently. “I want Luke to watch me suck your dick. The dick of someone I truly love. My favorite fucking cock in the world. I want him to see how different it is for you, versus when he’s made me do it for him. I want him to see the love in my eyes as your cock chokes me because I want it to. Because I need it deep down in my throat to survive. How I crave the gag from your body, unlike when he’s forcing himself on me. And I want him to bleed to death watching you play your guitar for me, singing your heart out as his beats for the last time.”

Bash is snarling, his hand at my throat, squeezing it dangerously as he smirks at me and says, “Then that’s exactly what is going to fucking happen, Lina Girl.”

Fries and fried zucchini hit the floor of the car as Bash and I messily make out, our love for each other burning so fucking brightly in the fast-food parking lot.

“Text that woman. Let her know that you really need to meet with her tomorrow and see what she says,” Bash breathes. His dick is tented among the sea of discarded food in his lap. I smile as I unlock my phone, composing a text to Gilda. A few seconds pass before she responds.

“She said she can meet around noon. Where should I set this up?” I’m nervous. My brain isn’t thinking straight so I make Bash figure out the details.

“Make it a fucking Starbucks. Everyone is so loud in those places, no one will be able to hear us even if they’re trying to,” he decides.

He’s right. They’re the opposite of relaxing.

“You know, I don’t know how people go there to write. Half the time they’re so crowded, it seems like a very overstimulating environment,” I say off-hand. Bash nods, considering what I said as he eats more fries.

“That’s exactly why it’s where we’re going tomorrow,” he smirks. I smirk back, feeling so alive around him as we do normal-ass shit. Things that others take for granted, like eating takeout in an empty parking lot. Things we’ve never really been able to do together. Not to the extent we’ve ever craved before.

Well, the fast-food is normal. The murder? Meh . Guess it depends on who you ask.

“What should we do tonight?” I ask mischievously. I want to fill every remaining moment together with meaningful shit. Just in case something happens to us.

“ Mmm . I have an idea,” he says with a devilish grin that melts my panties clean off my body. “But first I was thinking that you’d probably like some of your own clothes. Did you want to grab some things from your place?” My body stiffens at his suggestion. I begin to sweat at the thought of going home. I’ve been wearing Bash’s baggy things for days, along with a pair of my own sweatpants. “Lina Girl,” he says quietly. “I’ll buy you anything you need if that’s not an option for you.”

That almost makes it worse. I shake my head no. He already paid to have my house cleaned.

“It’s good to face your fears,” I blurt, although I sound anything but brave. “We should get some of my things.”

“Let’s get it done now. Then we can go to the next place I have in mind,” he says mysteriously. He gives me a cocky smile. I’m buckling my seatbelt quickly, ready to go fucking anywhere with him. I can handle anything with Bash Cox by my side.

*****

Sebastian:

Her street is quiet. It’s late and the homes are mostly filled with sleeping families. I park in her driveway and turn off the car. She’s staring at her lap, her body trembling. “Breathe, Lina Girl,” I encourage her softly. She takes a deep breath, holding it in. “ Baby ,” I emphasize as she looks to me with tortured eyes.

“You’re coming with me, right?” I grab her hand.

“To the ends of the earth, my gorgeous rag doll,” I whisper. She finally releases the breath she’s holding.

“You haven’t called me that in ages,” she says on a sob, her emotions amping up. “Make me your rag doll forever,” she whimpers. I nod my head yes aggressively.

“ Done .” I pull her face into my neck, holding her for a few seconds, breathing in her scent. She still uses that coconut lime shampoo. I bury my nose in her waves of purple hair and allow her to use me to gain her courage. I’ll do anything for her. “Let’s go, baby,” I softly say, deciding that waiting here any longer will only make it worse for her in the long run. She nods. We both exit the car.

I grab her hand as we climb the steps to her porch. I unlock the door, her key still on my keyring from helping the cleaning crew enter earlier. The smell of heavy chemicals hits my nose as the door opens. That’s a welcomed change. The previous smell was fucking horrendous. Alina walks into the doorway and looks around, her hands jammed into her sweats as she surveys her living room.

Her eyes linger by the couch and the table next to it.

“He ruined my coffee table stubbing out a cigarette,” she says quietly. Without hesitating, I grab it, hating this fucking table as much as I hate Luke. I walk back outside to the front porch. “Bash, what are you doing?” she whispers urgently, not wanting to draw neighborhood attention to us. I smirk before I chuck the table onto the sidewalk outside of her home, the wood splintering and cracking loudly in the middle of the night. Her shocked eyes are wide as she watches the pieces settle. The quiet that returns to the area is a little eerie. Then she levels me with a stare. “That was fucking hot,” she admits as I nod my head knowingly. I lick my lips, turning back to her fully.

“I know you had to struggle before and that certain things came to you by a lot of work. But fuck Luke and fuck that table for holding any power over you. You deserve so much better than the shit you’ve been settling for, baby.” My adrenaline is pumping as I push my way past her, walking back inside. I inspect the rest of the house, making sure there’s no blood or anything nasty that was missed. Alina trails behind me, silently assessing it all too.

Alina:

Bash finally walks into the master bedroom as my heart begins to pound. “So, what exactly happened in here?” he asks as he flips on the light switch to the bathroom. I stumble back a few steps, half-expecting to see Luke shitting on the toilet again, staking his goddamn claim. It’s empty though, the floor below the toilet pristinely clean. It feels fake somehow. Like it’s a facade. I lock my arms around myself for comfort. Bash looks back at me and pauses, seeing the anxiety written across my face. He waits patiently for me to speak.

“When I got here that night, he’d hidden his car. So, I came into my home thinking I had a moment to gather myself and change out of the clothes you gave me,” I start as tears automatically fall from my eyes. All I can see in my head is Luke sitting on my toilet in his purple suit and white tiger-striped shirt, laughing as his gun sits pointed at me. I shiver. “I really thought it was going to be the last time we’d see each other, and I wanted to change out of your clothes. I wanted to protect that part of me. The one that Luke knew nothing about. Because our memories from high school have always kept me going when shit hit the fan in my life. But he pulled a gun on me and made me stand here, watching him shit. He was reading my magazines and pointing to things, making dumbass conversation…” I trail off. Bash is breathing heavily. I can see the anger growing in his eyes. “He clogged my toilet on purpose, so his literal shit covered the floor as it overflowed.”

“Jesus, fuck , Lina Girl,” Bash cries exasperated as he scrubs his hands down his face.

“The worst part is he didn’t even wash his hands, and he was touching my fucking face and shit,” I say absentmindedly, as I feel Bash grab my arm, throwing me into his chest. I bury my face into him, breathing in his scent. His body shakes as he begins to cry, his tears falling into my hair. It feels so good to finally have someone care so deeply about me. His fingers grip my body as I dream about melting into them forever. He could play his guitars knowing I live inside them all. But I’ll settle for this moment instead, being completely seen and taken care of by the most handsome and kindhearted man I’ve ever met. Sebastian Cox is my literal dream come true. I don’t even care what happens to me anymore. As long as I die in his arms, at least I’ll have made it to heaven.

Sebastian:

I can’t stop crying, so I don’t try to hide it as I sit on Alina’s bed and watch her pack a bag. I can tell she’s taking a few things that are meaningful, like a closed double-sided picture frame from her nightstand and a small bag of jewelry. I hope that means she’s planning on staying with me and is bringing these comforts to my place to make it more of our place. She’s deep in her own head, so I just wait patiently, sobbing silently.

I’m devastated for her. That she left my house and entered that hell all alone. That I let her go, getting into that fucking Uber to come here… Leaving to meet Luke will reside next to that fucking night I made her spend in that god forsaken shed with me as my biggest regrets slash mistakes in life. I’m so fucking ashamed of myself.

“Bash,” she whispers as she approaches me, hand outstretched. I shake my head no, swallowing hard.

“Please don’t touch me right now,” I plead with her, feeling so fucking pathetic and unworthy due to my decisions.

“Ok.”

She walks away and continues to pack her bag. She starts to grab clothes, piling them in, checking on me every few seconds from the floor in front of her dresser. I meet her eyes each time, not ever wanting to miss seeing those brilliant fucking emeralds shining back at me. She’s so fucking beautiful, it physically hurts my heart to even look at her. But it’s the sweetest kind of torture and I love enduring it for her.

“I’m sorry,” I finally manage to get out. She sighs, throwing a pair of black jeans into her bag and meeting my eyes.

“This isn’t your fault, Bash.” She stares at me, looking exhausted. All I see when I look at her is my mom. Because I failed to protect her from harm too. And the past is just repeating itself in the most brutal way.

“Why can’t I ever protect the women I love?” I ask her, truly wanting to know why I’m so goddamn pathetic and unmanly and weak . She gets to her feet and climbs into my lap before I have time to protest. She looks at me as she grabs my face, her eyes wet with tears.

“Some people just fucking suck, Sebastian Cox. They take and they abuse, forcing their shit onto others because it makes them feel better afterwards. More powerful . It makes us, the abused, question what we did to deserve it. And there isn’t a complicated answer, Bash. We did nothing. Nothing . Because this is all about them and whatever broke inside of them to hurt us. It was never our responsibility to fix them. Nor can we. We just do the best we can to remember that we’re here too, just trying to get through this shit show called life. When we take up space and authentically exist in our own happiness, we win. They’ll never know what that feels like. So, stop fucking taking on the actions of Luke. You have nothing to do with his shitty behavior. It won’t ever be your fault. Just like it wasn’t your fault with your dad. And it wasn’t my fault my brother took his life. We have to release ourselves from these moments in time. And I need you now , so we can make sure Luke never gets to do this to anyone else again.”

“How did I get so lucky to love the most badass woman in the fucking world?” I ask as I pull back to look into her face. She smiles and licks at my lips.

“Look who’s talking, my handsome, former rockstar, genius musician,” she oozes, making me fucking putty in her arms.

“Thank you, Alina. For always believing in me when I can’t believe in myself. For being the one person to actually do so,” I breathe.

She only smiles and simply replies, “You do the same for me.”