Page 35

Sebastian:

“Will you paint my toenails?” I ask Alina as she grins widely, nodding her head.

“Oh, my god! Please! I haven’t been able to do that in so long!!” she squeals. I smirk and grab the black nail polish off of my dresser.

“It’s all chipped. Will you start over? Take this old shit off first?” I ask her as I remove my socks, and she looks at the sad state my toes are in.

“At least they’re trimmed and filed,” she says approvingly. I roll my eyes.

“You taught me well, Lina Girl,” I say with a small smile. It was funny. Everyone on tour knew not to bother me when I was doing my nails. It was pretty much the only time I demanded to be alone. It just gave me an outlet to think about her. And get out of the chaos the tour always proved to be. Plus, she had started the look, and I wasn’t going to change what was working.

“Grab me the nail polish remover!” she demands like the queen she is. I shake my head in amusement as I slink into the bathroom to grab some cotton balls and the bottle of remover. “ Eeek! ” she squeals as I sit on the bed and throw my feet into her lap. She takes everything else and sets it off to the side. “Lay down, Bash Cox.” I do. Her fingers begin to massage my feet and soon, my eyes are closing while I float on a cloud of actual relaxation.

“Why are you massaging my feet on your birthday?” I ask her as she snorts.

“By that logic, I shouldn’t be painting your toenails at all, then,” she retorts.

“Touché, baby.” Her thumb works the arch of my foot. I’m practically purring in her perfect hands. I repress the urge to drool at how good it all feels.

“Thank you for my new hair,” she whispers shyly. I open my eyes to look at her. Her cheeks are pink as she looks back at me, her new red hair fluffed up around her face. She cut several inches off and looks like a more mature version of herself back in high school. I wanted her to feel like she was starting over. Because we are. So, when we woke up this morning and she conveniently forgot to mention her birthday, I knew I had to pull out all the stops to remind her how special she is.

I secretly made an appointment at a highly rated salon and waited until after she showered and dressed herself to ask her what she wanted to do for the day. She just shrugged, saying that as long as we were together, she didn’t care.

I drove her to the salon and dropped her off, getting us coffee before returning with a card and a bouquet of flowers.

“What the fuck is this for?!” she excitedly gushed as she accepted it all in the chair.

“It’s your fucking birthday , Lina Girl,” I said incredulously. Her face fell hearing that.

“Oh,” she replied, looking away from me.

“Problem?” I asked her as she exhaled dramatically, and she finally met my eyes.

“I just… stopped caring. You know, after I had to leave you,” she said quietly. “I didn’t really have a reason to celebrate after that. Or anyone to celebrate with. I started to forget so it wouldn’t hurt as badly.”

“I’m here now,” I said as I nuzzled her nose, and she nodded her head yes.

“And you remembered,” she whispered back to me. I smiled at her, kissing her lips before moving away so the stylist could work. I told Alina to do whatever the hell she wanted. And when I opened my eyes to see the reveal, it took everything in me not to pop a fucking boner as she showed off her new look. Her hair was maroon in high school, but today she took it to a brilliant, dark red that pummeled the breath from my body. She was so happy, she went down on me in the parking lot, not even caring that her stylist was getting an eyeful.

And as I look at her now, sitting before me on our bed, her gorgeous mane of red surrounding her face, I think she looks like Venus. Perfect and pure and red as the sun. Brilliant and beautiful. Sexual and dangerous all at once.

And fucking mine .

“Happy birthday, fuck doll,” I say with a smirk. She squeals again, kissing my toes before turning to the bottle of remover.

“I’ve been thinking. I want to do this right tomorrow,” she ventures. I furrow my brow, wondering what she’s going to suggest next.

“I’m curiously excited for what’s about to come out of your mouth,” I reply. She laughs at me as she begins to remove the old polish from my toes.

“I want to dress up when we kill Luke. I want to look hot as shit as we slaughter that motherfucker,” she declares as she snarls slightly. My fucking dick stiffens in my pants at her idea.

“I’m all about a good performance and the outfit is about sixty-five percent of that,” I say seriously. “What are you wanting to kill him in, then?”

“There’s something special I’ve been saving for the right occasion. And right partner,” she says as her eyes soften and settle on mine.

“That would be me ,” I growl. She nods while licking her lips. I know she’s doing it without thinking, but it’s seductive as shit.

“A tail,” she hints, like the vixen she is. I rise up on my elbows, knowing exactly where this is going.

“Oh, fuck yes,” I shout happily. She smiles genuinely. “A plug?”

“ Mhm . One that’s been kept safe and secret for a long time,” she says slyly. I cock a brow.

“ Go on ,” I urge as she moves to my next foot, removing the old nail polish.

“It’s beautiful. And fluffy. And red .”

I growl deeply before I answer, knowing exactly what it is. “A fox.” She nods seriously without returning my smile. It takes everything inside of me not to jump her. “For me?”

She nods again.

“You never forgot the purple heart. I never forgot your fantasy,” she whispers. I had told her one night that as a kid, I had had a crush on Maid Marian from the cartoon version of Robin Hood. And maybe Vixey from The Fox and the Hound. That it would’ve been hot as fuck to have her dress up for me as my own little, foxy fuck doll.

“In said fantasy, am I fucking you while Luke bleeds below us?” I ask as my dick becomes a full-on boner. She actually fucking tsks me, the damn brat.

“In this new one, yes! And get out of here with that thing! I’m about to paint your toenails!” she complains, pointing at my hard dick. I rub my stiff shaft uncomfortably, willing it to chill out as she searches for the black polish hiding in the bedspread.

“I can’t fucking wait,” I say as I lay back down on the mattress. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Is Luke scared of anything in particular?” She snorts, piquing my curiosity.

“Oh, yeah. He’s deathly afraid of birds. One time a tiny little bird found its way into the Bengal, and I swear to god, Luke flew out of his skin. He hates seeing them outside too. If they fly into a window or at his windshield, he’s full-on screeching. It’s actually incredible the length to which he overreacts. I really wish I knew the origin of that fear,” she says absentmindedly.

“Well. I have the perfect outfit for our date, then,” I say in a self-satisfied tone.

Alina:

“Tell me this instant, Bash Cox!” I yell excitedly as I finally locate the nail polish and unscrew the top of it. The smell immediately fills the room. It transports me back to my bedroom in high school, where I’d paint Bash’s toes out of boredom. And for an excuse to touch him. Not that I needed one. I just loved doting upon him. I’m reminded of that as I begin to cover his nails with black paint.

“For my third, self-titled album, I was sick of only being seen as talented for my pretty face,” he starts to explain. I scoff.

“ Rude . They knew nothing of your legendary fingers it sounds like,” I playfully tease as he smiles at me and laughs.

“Anyway, I decided to go the Kiss route and cover my face. But I wasn’t about to paint it every night and sweat it off, shit running in my eyes while performing. So, I figured a mask would be the best way to go, even though it probably made me sweat more,” Bash continues. I suck in a sudden breath.

“The plague doctor!!” I scream hysterically. He grins at me. “How did I forget about that look?”

“You’ve been a little preoccupied. I’ll let it slide,” he teases. “But yes, Lina Girl. And it’s down in the garage, just waiting to be unboxed for this very occasion.”

“I might die being next to you in that damn mask,” I admit. He cocks a brow as I finish his first foot.

“Does that mask do it for you?” he asks with an edge as I shrug, feeling shy.

“Maybe. You know I have a thing for Daddy Vader. But I’m sure you’ve used it with all your groupies, and I don’t really feel like reenacting anything that happened during your tour,” I say a little bitterly, as Bash rolls his eyes.

“I like Jealous Lina. But to ease your thoughts, that thing was fucking hot to wear and more for show than function. So no, it did not see the light, or lack of it, in my hotel rooms or tour bus bed. It occupied a large box to keep it pristine while we drove to the next show,” he finishes. I narrow my eyes.

“A fox for a plague doctor?” I ask in a sultry tone. He nods, his eyes burning brightly as they stare into mine.

“Anything for you, Lina Girl,” he whispers as I finish his second foot.

“Good. I think we have things figured out, then,” I say happily. “Do you know the guitar and amp set up you’ll need? And what about a mic?”

“I have a headset that I used with the mask that’s packed away with it in the garage. And yes, I know the instrument I’m bringing with me,” he says matter-of-factly, wiggling his toes at me. I look down at them, admiring my work.

“You really do look so handsome in black nail polish, baby.” I tilt my head, looking at his feet from a different angle.

“Only you would be obsessed with my weird toes,” he says as he grabs his phone and changes the song we’re listening to. Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge begins to play, making us both scream with excitement, loving this song from our youth. We shout, belting the lyrics out together.

I straddle Bash and dance on top his hips as we sing to each other, laughing and forgetting all about the death we’re planning. “You know this song is exactly how I felt when we first met,” he says to me as I settle down enough to roll my eyes.

“ Right ,” I reply sarcastically, still feeling like the girl who never deserved the man beneath her.

“I don’t understand why you always negate my confessions,” he says quietly. “We fucked all the time. I spent the night at your house. Why do you seem to think I was lying while doing all that shit?”

“I don’t know,” I deflect as Bash waits for me to answer, not accepting my half-assed reply. “Probably because I’m ashamed of who I’ve become. What I’ve had to do to survive and what I still need to do to be freed. I can’t help but wonder if you’ll take it all back when it gets to be too much. It already is. So, I’m trying to stay detached to a certain extent to protect myself. When you bring up the past, it makes that really hard to do.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I realize we’ve been through it this week, but Alina, there is no one for me, but you. And I’ve literally been around the world, fucked my share of gorgeous women and you’re the only one I see, baby.” He lifts himself up on his elbows and kisses me deeply, just as a loud popping sound makes us jump.

“What the fuck was that?!” I scream, knowing damn well the noise was from a discharged gun.

“Holy fuck!” Bash shouts as he throws me to the mattress and runs out of his bedroom. I’m hot on his heels as we hit the second floor and descend to the alcove outside. A car screeches around the driveway, the passenger side window rolling down as Luke hangs his body out of the car.

Very much alive, his head only bandaged from the candle incident. His eyes are wide in a manic sort of way as he cackles dangerously.

“See you tomorrow, kitten!!” he yells as he howls with laughter and waves his hand at us, a gun clearly clutched in his fingers. He shoots off a few rounds into the air as the car he’s in disappears down the driveway. Sebastian pushes my body behind his protectively.

“ Bash! ” I scream as we both stand there shaking. He looks at me, dazed. “Your mom!! ” It’s all I can manage. She’s the only person around that Luke would think to harm due to her relationship with Sebastian. His eyes widen as he sprints for the other side of the house. We run into the living room, searching around in a frenzied panic.

“ Mom?! ” Bash shouts, terror lacing his voice as we hear a gurgle from behind the counter that frames the kitchen directly behind us. “Fuck!!” he exhales through tears as he runs towards the sound and ducks down beneath the cabinets. I’m a step behind him.

He grabs her hand. It’s covered in her own blood. She’s bleeding out from her stomach. Bash yells for something to help try and stop it. I spot a towel on the counter, knowing it’s too late. She’s barely breathing, and her face is drained of all color. She’s already more dead than alive. I crouch down next to her. My knees sink into warm blood.

She has tears streaming down her face. She looks at Bash, whose jaw is trembling uncontrollably as he watches the life drain from his mother’s eyes. “I’m… sorry,” she mumbles to him. He says nothing back as he continues to cry. She grabs my hand next. I cling to her, searching her face, the same one I bruised in protection of Bash as she tries to come up with her last words. “Thank…” she begins on a sob, but her sentence is cut short and soon her eyes and mouth still, her empty stare settling into the ceiling above us.

Neither of us say anything for a minute. And then Bash releases a howl to rival any animal I’ve ever heard. He runs his hands through his hair, blood streaking his temples and scalp, as he screams and screams. I have no idea what to do. But for whatever reason, Cade’s face comes into my mind. I text him first, knowing he’s on the force. He responds a few seconds later.

I know. I was driving the getaway car. I have an ambulance on the way. Hold on.

I stare at the screen, Bash sobbing to my right. Nothing is forming in my brain correctly. I text him back, not even sure of what I’m doing.

She’s already gone…

Three dots appear and disappear. It’s a long moment before they return.

I’m sorry.

I read his reply before looking to Bash, his bare toes newly painted. His mother’s blood seeps between them, marring my paint job and covering his foot.

I’m not.

And I mean it. It’s the last band-aid to rip off for Bash. To set him free from a childhood of pain and disappointment. Years of unmet needs and withheld love.

He suddenly stops screaming. Tears run down his face. His eyes meet mine.

“I hated her so much, Lina Girl,” he seethes as I nod my head, understanding he’s experiencing sheer heartbreak.

“I know, baby.”

“Then why does it hurt so badly?! ” he screams at me. I just shake my head, having no real answer for him.

“Emotions are a bitch, Sebastian.”

He howls, shattering.