Page 37

Alina:

We wake up late.

There’s a tense feeling in the air and I can tell Bash is super out of it. His eyes are swollen from crying the night before and every few seconds, I can tell he’s zoning out when they gloss over, looking at nothing in particular. Luke may not have known of the complications between Bash and his mom, but his damage hit its mark.

Sebastian is a second away from imploding.

I went back to the garage after he fell asleep and searched for more drugs. I found them too. I washed it all down the drain or flushed it in the toilet. Whenever this is over, I don’t need him being tempted to get high on the hard shit to cope. So, I did away with the bait.

I text Cade to check in and he informs me Luke stationed him at the entrance of Bash’s driveway to make sure he’s alerted to whether I leave or not. I wonder how he’s planning on getting Luke alone later, but decide I have bigger problems to deal with.

I walk Bash back up to the house to shower. His eyes linger on his mom’s side of the home. I pull him up the stairs to his loft as quickly as I can to get him into his own space. By the time we’re in his room, he’s sobbing again. And I’m starting to really think that maybe this isn’t going to happen. That the hope I had clung to of ridding myself of Luke was stupid and futile and Bash’s words of encouragement were sweet but hollow.

I lock myself in his bathroom and sob as the shower pours over me.

Sebastian:

I can hear her in the shower, even though she thinks she’s trying to cry as quietly as she can. It’s like a goddamn exorcism and it’s honestly all I need to snap out of my fucking daze. Hearing a hurt Alina has always helped to clarify my thinking. I know I’ll be fucked up after this, as will she. But I steel myself and make a promise to get us through the next twenty-four hours. We can each fall apart in a different country after we’ve fled this absolute shit show. Who knows how long it’ll take to recover.

I knock on the door and her crying settles down.

“It’s locked,” she calls, her voice cracking.

“Can I come in?” I ask, grabbing the key to the door sitting above the frame, where I keep it.

“Ok,” she replies weakly. I unlock the door, opening it desperately before shoving my way in. The steam from the shower swirls lazily around in the air as I enter the humid room. Alina looks so small curled up in the corner of the shower. I quickly strip, joining her on the tile.

She won’t look at me. I’m trying not to take it personally. I know I could jump to a fuck-ton of conclusions, but my gut is telling me to be patient.

“Lina Girl,” I mutter, trying to sound comforting. But it sounds as empty as I feel. I try to forgive myself for that, knowing I’m going through it too.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “About your mom. About me. About everything.”

“I’m not,” I honestly respond before I can think about it too much. “It’s a lot of shit. Everything you just mentioned. But I’ll never be sorry about you. Whatever way I get you. How fucked up our story has been. Because it’s been us the whole time. We’ve never asked for a more perfect version. We’ve always accepted each other as is. In used condition.” She laughs at that. I grab her perfect face in both of my hands. She melts and pushes her cheek into one of them and crawls forward into my lap.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

Hearing my full name from her lips will always be weird, but it undoes me when it comes from her mouth.

“And I love you, Alina fucking Timber.” She sheds a few more tears at that. “We’re almost there, baby.”

“Let’s finish this. Then I’m never coming back to this shit hole again,” she breathes. I nod.

“We’ll make a life for ourselves. So fucking far from this nightmare. I promise.” I just can’t promise we won’t be dead before that happens.

But even if we die, we’ll finally find peace. Lying with Lina in a grave sounds like an eternity of bliss.

*****

We drive to Lina’s house. It’s the last stop on our list. Earlier in the day, we grabbed everything else we needed for tonight, besides the outfit she’s going to wear. We pass by Cade again, who’s positioned at the end of my driveway by the road inside his own car. He nods to us, and we nod back. Alina grabs my hand, her trembling fingers needing something to ground herself with.

“Wave to our babysitter,” I joke sarcastically. She sighs next to me, unamused. “It’s ok, Lina Girl. He’s on our side,” I whisper. She rolls her eyes.

“Or so he claims,” she mumbles back absentmindedly. “He’s still a cop and I don’t trust cops. But I don’t think any of that matters right now. Nothing will make me feel better until we’re fucking done with this shit.”

“I know,” I reply darkly. We’re silent for the rest of the ride. When we get to her house, she shivers before unbuckling her seat belt. I decide in my head this is the last time she will have to enter this place. Too much trauma was sustained here.

We walk into her room, and she disappears into her closet. I follow her, leaning against the door frame as she grabs a box sitting beneath her hung clothes. When she opens the lid, I can see the beautiful, bushy tail sitting on top of a pile of lingerie and other miscellaneous things. The red is striking and despite the circumstances, my dick hardens thinking of her taking that damn plug as I insert it into her body.

I rub my cock with a groan. Lina smirks as she watches me.

“Soon, fuck doll,” she says with a playful wink. It feels so normal, I can’t help but laugh.

“Oh, Lina Girl. With that tail in my hands, you’ll be my fuck doll. I promise you that,” I warn her. Her cheeks turn pink as she looks back to the tail, petting it softly. She grabs it gently, handing it to me. I bring the soft, faux fur to my face, rubbing it against my cheek. “Are there matching ears?” I ask curiously. She rolls her eyes at my obviously dumb question.

“ Duh , Bash Cox. I wouldn’t half-ass a look for you, dickhead!” she says with an attitude that’s filled with disgust.

“Forgive me for my stupidity,” I say with a grin as I rub the tail over my skin again. It’s bringing me comfort and I don’t take that lightly. I need it to ground me so I can get through this evening. Alina grabs the box, holding her hand up for the tail in my own, but I hesitate. She looks at me funny. “I just… it’s helping to calm me down. I know that sounds stupid,” I say with a trembling voice, fisting the tail in my nervous fingers.

“Keep it safe for us, baby,” she whispers as she kisses my cheek. We linger with our foreheads touching before leaving her place.

*****

Alina:

Bash holds the fox tail the whole ride back to his house. I drive so he can relax. Plus, he won’t stop fisting the tail like a scared toddler gripping their most sacred blanket or stuffed animal. Who am I to get in the way of what he needs before this fucked up evening? I decide I’ve never loved him more as I watch him out of the corner of my eye. He’s the sweetest soul that’s ever existed.

The box with the ears and the rest of my outfit is sitting in the back seat. It feels so surreal to actually be using this box. It’s been buried in my closet for years. And I honestly never believed I’d see the day that Bash would want to fuck me again. I’d come to the conclusion in my mind that even if we did reconnect, he’d deem me unworthy of his body. And I had let that be the story that was playing nonstop in my head ever since. And yet, he can’t let go of that damn tail and he’s seated next to me, ready to defend my honor to the world’s biggest dickhole.

Life is fucking strange .

We pass Cade as I pull into the driveway. It still feels weird that he was involved in Bash’s mom’s death. I know he had a job to do, and I thought little of her. But it hurt Bash. And that’s the only person who I care about left in this world. So, I feel mixed emotions about the pig .

We try to eat, but neither of us can stomach anything. We end up fucking in the kitchen instead. Hard and sloppy and full of repressed things we aren’t saying to each other in the hopes that they’re just fears, not the actual truth. I refuse to think that I’ll be losing Bash for good if something goes wildly wrong. I can’t . I’d rather die than live without him again.

We help each other dress as we costume ourselves for our fucked up play date. We’re both quiet, trying to soak up what could be our last minutes we have together.

I help him first. Black leather pants. A dark button-down shirt. Black pinstriped vest. A studded belt with multiple chains. Large, sterling silver rings with colorful stones. A silver chain for his neck. A white tie. White Doc Marten platform boots. A silver tie clip with a bird’s skull. And rolled sleeves to the elbows to show off the silver bracelets I hang upon his wrists.

If I had a dick, I’d be hard at the sight of him standing in front of me.

“You’re fucking stunning,” I breath as we both look to the mask on the bed. “I can’t wait for the finished look.”

“Thank you, baby. Your turn, Lina Girl,” he says gently. I nod my head and allow him to guide my body.

Bash strips me bare, touching every inch of me as he goes. He squeezes my breasts and bites at my nipples, flicking them with his sinful tongue before hooking a black bra over my tits. It has a series of straps that accentuate my breasts beautifully and meet between the pair of them. He pulls a black thong over my hips, helping me into my fishnet stockings before setting a lacy waist piece over my underwear. He connects the stockings to it by the clasps that hang down the front and back of my thighs. He grabs my heels from the box next and crouches down before me, gently guiding each of my feet into the high stilettos. They’re shiny and black and sharp as shit. “If looks could kill,” Bash murmurs as he looks over my body from head to toe. “Let’s get your ears on,” he breathes, pulling them from the box last. I smile as he holds them delicately, his face softening even further as he meets my eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Alina.”

His voice is distant, like he’s lost in a memory or vision. I realize that vision is me as he kisses me so deeply, so purely, filled with so much love. Tears creep down his cheeks as he fastens the ears into my hair. I’m breathing strangely, a weird mix of terrified and turned on warring inside of my body. My fingers grip his vest as his own grip the flesh of my hips and ass.

“I’ll always be grateful to you for saving my life,” Bash whispers. I smile through a sea of tears.

“No matter what happens, everything I’ve been through has been worth it to have this time with you,” I say upon a sob. His fingers move over my ass cheek as if he were playing a sequence of cords on his guitar. I melt before him, remembering that boy from all those years ago. “I want to show you something,” I say quietly as he furrows his brow in curiosity. I walk to my bag of things I brought to his house and unzip it, finding the folded picture frame. I grab it and bring it to my chest before rising and walking over to him.

I reach out my arm with the frame between us and say nothing. He trembles, his fingers shaking as he takes the gift and opens it. The first picture on the left is of him alone, sitting on my bed in high school, playing his guitar. He has an easy smile on his face and his eyes are closed. He looked so peaceful when it was happening, I snuck in a picture on a disposable camera while he was preoccupied. The second is one of us that we took together, also in my bed. We were naked and cuddling and I’m plastered to his chest. His hand is holding my face, and his lips are pressed into my cheek. I look so young and happy. So free of pain in his hands and against his lips. It’s always made me feel less alone to look at it when life starts throwing shit at me.

Bash says nothing as his eyes meet mine. But they’re filled with all the emotions he isn’t speaking out loud. He takes a deep breath. “I’m going to lose it if I tell you exactly what this means to me. But after Luke dies, I’ll show you. I just have to get us through this. I have to keep it together for a few more hours, Lina Girl.”

“You’re doing great, Bash Cox,” I whisper as I gather his face in my hands and press my forehead to his. “Let’s give him fucking hell.”

“Hell is the least of his worries,” Bash says menacingly. “I’m about to unleash thirty-two years of repressed trauma upon him. In my eyes tonight, Luke is my father.”