minamartin

[minamartin]

Omg this is too cute! 🥰😍

[minamartin]

austin butler is fucking shit!!!

Does your girlfriend love him more than you or something? Need a hug? It’s okay to be jealous, take a breath lmao.

[minamartin]

You definitely should continue! Pls.

Arches and Turns

Benny Cross x reader

warnings: longing, fluff

A picturesque stone bridge arches gracefully over a tranquil river in the countryside. The bridge is made of weathered gray stones, each one carefully placed to form a sturdy yet elegant structure. Moss and small ferns grow in the crevices between the stones, adding a touch of green to the otherwise muted tones.

The bridge is surrounded by lush meadows filled with wildflowers in shades of purple, yellow, and white, gently swaying in the breeze. Tall trees with dense, leafy canopies frame the scene, their branches creating dappled patterns of light and shadow on the ground. The river beneath the bridge flows gently, its clear waters reflecting the blue sky above and the vibrant colors of the surrounding landscape.

A dirt path, worn smooth by years of use, leads to the bridge, inviting travelers to cross and continue their journey through the idyllic countryside. The peaceful ambiance is occasionally broken by the soft rustle of leaves or the distant chirping of birds, creating a sense of serene isolation. The bridge, though simple, stands as a timeless piece of architecture that seamlessly blends into its natural surroundings, offering a perfect harmony between man-made structure and nature.

Benny, a solitary figure clad in a leather jacket and helmet, frequently rides his motorcycle along the winding country roads. His path often takes him over the old stone bridge, which he usually crosses without a second thought, the roar of his engine echoing through the serene landscape. The bridge, though beautiful, has always been just another part of his journey—a fleeting moment in his ride, never a destination.

One day, as he approaches the bridge, something unusual catches his eye. There, standing alone on the bridge, is a young woman with long, flowing black hair that cascades down her back. The breeze gently lifts the strands, playing with them as if in a dance. She's wearing a simple, flowing white dress that contrasts starkly with the earthy tones of the bridge and the vibrant colors of the countryside.

She stands near the edge of the bridge, looking out over the water, seemingly lost in thought. The sunlight bathes her in a warm glow, making her appear almost ethereal, like a figure out of a dream. The biker slows his pace, captivated by the sight. He's used to the solitude of these roads, where it's rare to encounter anyone, let alone someone so striking.

For a moment, he contemplates stopping, maybe saying hello, but something holds him back. Instead, he keeps his distance, pulling his bike to the side of the road, just out of sight, where he can observe her without intruding. The woman doesn't seem to notice him; she remains still, gazing out over the water, her expression serene and introspective.

The biker watches her in silence, a mix of admiration and curiosity stirring within him. There's something about her presence that feels almost magical, as if she's a part of the landscape, belonging to the bridge and the countryside in a way he never could. The moment feels timeless, and he finds himself wishing he could freeze it, hold on to the peace and beauty of it forever.

But he knows he can't stay. The road calls to him, as it always does. Reluctantly, he revs his engine and continues his journey, casting one last glance back at the bridge. The woman remains where she is, a solitary figure on the ancient stones, as the sound of his motorcycle fades into the distance.

From that day onward, Benny finds himself drawn to the bridge more than ever. His rides, once aimless and driven by the need to escape, now have a clear purpose: to catch a glimpse of the mysterious woman. He times his rides so that he passes by the bridge at the same hour each day, hoping to see her standing there as she always seems to be.

He never stops to speak to her, though the urge to do so grows stronger with each passing day. Instead, he keeps his distance, letting the engine of his motorcycle hum quietly as he slows down to take in the sight of her. The woman, with her long black hair flowing in the breeze, seems as much a part of the landscape as the bridge itself, as if she belongs there, waiting for someone or something.

Each day, he notices something new about her—how she sometimes wears a light scarf that flutters in the wind, or how her gaze seems to linger on the horizon, lost in thought. He sees the way she gently brushes a strand of hair behind her ear or how she occasionally leans over the edge of the bridge, watching the water below with a contemplative expression. She seems quiet, introspective, and perhaps as lonely as he is.

The more he sees her, the more he feels a connection, an inexplicable bond forming between them. He imagines what her voice might sound like, what thoughts occupy her mind as she stands there alone. He wonders what brings her to the bridge every day and what it is that she’s searching for. In his mind, he begins to create a story for her, one that intertwines with his own, filling the empty spaces in his heart with the possibility of a connection he’s never known before.

Though they never speak, her presence becomes a constant in his life, a source of quiet comfort amidst the noise of the world. He finds himself thinking about her even when he’s not riding, her image lingering in his mind like a beautiful, haunting melody. He knows nothing about her—her name, her life, her story—but it doesn’t matter. He’s falling for her, slowly, deeply, and without even realizing it, she becomes the most important part of his journey.

For nearly a month and a half, the biker’s routine remains unchanged. Each day, he rides out to the countryside, making his way to the old stone bridge. Sometimes, instead of simply passing by, he stops his bike at a discreet distance, far enough not to disturb the peaceful solitude of the bridge but close enough to watch her without being noticed. He often lights a cigarette and leans against his bike, the smoke curling up into the air as he observes her quietly.

He’s come to know her habits, though not her name. Some days, she stands by the edge of the bridge, gazing at the water below, lost in her thoughts. Other times, she sits on the low stone wall, a book in her hands. He can never make out the titles, but he watches her turn the pages slowly, her eyes fixed on the words as if the world around her has ceased to exist. There's a calmness in her demeanor, a quiet resilience that captivates him. She reads with such focus, her expression occasionally softening into a smile, as if whatever story she’s immersed in brings her some small joy.

Benny finds himself more drawn to her with each passing day, her presence on the bridge becoming a strange yet comforting part of his life. She’s a mystery, one he’s in no hurry to solve, content to simply watch her from afar. His thoughts are often filled with her image, her dark hair, her delicate fingers turning the pages of her book, the way she seems both present and distant at the same time.

But one evening, after a long ride with his biker club, he finds himself in an unexpected predicament. They’ve gathered at their usual spot, a small, dimly lit bar where the air is thick with the smell of leather, smoke, and cheap beer. It’s a place where he usually feels at ease, surrounded by the familiar faces of his friends. But tonight, something feels off. He reaches into his jacket pocket for his lighter, intending to light a cigarette as he listens to the banter around him. But his fingers come up empty.

He checks his other pockets, then his saddlebag, but the lighter is nowhere to be found. He realizes he must have dropped it somewhere, maybe during his ride, or perhaps it fell out when he stopped by the bridge earlier that day. The thought of it being lost nags at him, not because it’s irreplaceable, but because it was a part of his routine, a small yet significant piece of the time he spends watching her.

Without the lighter, the ritual feels incomplete, and he finds himself distracted, unable to fully engage in the conversations around him. His thoughts keep drifting back to the bridge, to the woman who now seems even more unreachable without the simple act of lighting a cigarette to fill the silence between them. It’s a small thing, but it feels like a crack in the carefully constructed world he’s built around his quiet obsession.

As the night wears on, he grows restless, the need to return to the bridge and see her again becoming almost unbearable. The loss of the lighter seems to symbolize something more significant, a reminder of how fragile this connection he feels with her truly is, how easily it could slip through his fingers without him ever having the courage to reach out.

Benny, unable to shake the feeling of unease, decides to ride out to the bridge, even without his lighter. As he speeds down the familiar roads, the cool evening air brushes against his face, doing little to calm the restlessness growing within him. He knows it’s irrational, this need to see her, but the pull is too strong to ignore. The lighter, though just a small object, had been a part of his quiet ritual, a companion to his moments of silent longing. But more than the lighter, it’s her absence that weighs on his mind.

When he reaches the bridge, the sun is dipping low in the sky, casting long shadows over the landscape. The stone bridge is bathed in the golden light of the setting sun, the river below shimmering like liquid gold. But as he pulls up to his usual spot, something feels off. The bridge, normally graced by her presence, is empty.

He scans the area, searching for any sign of her, but there’s nothing—no fluttering scarf, no dark hair catching the light, no book resting on the stone wall. Just the quiet hum of the river and the rustling of leaves in the breeze.

A sense of emptiness settles in his chest. He dismounts his bike, standing there for a moment, hoping that maybe she’s just late, that any second now, she’ll appear like she always does. But as the minutes pass, the bridge remains deserted, and the reality begins to sink in: she isn’t coming.

He walks closer to the bridge, his boots crunching softly on the gravel path. For the first time in weeks, he steps onto the bridge itself, moving to the spot where she usually stands. The stone is cool under his touch as he leans against the railing, looking out over the water as she so often did. The peaceful scene before him, which once brought him solace, now feels eerily still, as if the world has lost some of its color in her absence.

His mind races with possibilities. Perhaps she’s simply late, or maybe she’s found another place to pass the time. But the deeper fear, the one that gnaws at his heart, is that she might be gone for good. That he’ll never see her again, never have the chance to know her beyond the silent moments they’ve shared from afar.

As the sun continues to sink, the sky fades from gold to deep purple, and a chill settles into the air. The biker lights a cigarette with a spare match he found in his pocket, the action feeling hollow without his familiar lighter. He takes a long drag, the smoke curling up into the dusky sky, and stares out at the empty road ahead.

The evening feels strange, unsettling. The bridge, which had become a place of quiet connection and unspoken feelings, now feels like a void, a place where something important has been lost. The biker realizes how much he’s come to depend on her presence, how much he’s been changed by those silent, shared moments. And now, with her absence, he feels more alone than ever.

He stays there for a long time, long after the sun has set and the stars have begun to emerge, hoping against hope that she might still appear. But the night grows colder, and the bridge remains empty.

Just as he’s about to mount his bike and ride off, he hears a soft voice from behind him, gentle yet clear in the stillness of the evening.

“Hey, is this yours?”

He freezes, his heart skipping a beat. It’s a voice he’s never heard before but instantly knows. Slowly, he turns around, his breath catching in his throat.

There she is—standing just a few feet away, the woman who’s occupied his thoughts for weeks. She looks as stunning as ever, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes bright with a mix of curiosity and something else—shyness, perhaps? In her hand, she’s holding his lighter, the one he thought he’d lost, the one he’d been missing all evening.

For a moment, he’s completely at a loss for words. The world seems to narrow down to just the two of them, standing on that bridge in the fading light. His heart beats erratically, the sudden rush of emotions overwhelming him. He’s spent so much time imagining what it would be like to talk to her, but now that she’s standing in front of him, words fail him entirely.

The first time Benny sees her up close, it’s as if the world around him fades away, leaving only the two of them standing on that quiet bridge. He’s seen her from a distance so many times, admired her beauty from afar, but nothing could have prepared him for this moment.

As she steps closer, her long black hair catches the light, shimmering like a cascade of midnight silk. Each strand seems to move with a life of its own, framing her delicate face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal. Her skin, soft and pale, contrasts with the dark locks, and he can’t help but notice how it seems to glow with an inner warmth.

Her eyes—he’s never seen eyes like hers before. Up close, they’re even more striking, a deep, dark brown that holds a universe of emotions within them. They’re large and expressive, framed by thick lashes that flutter slightly as she looks at him, curiosity mingling with something more elusive. There’s a depth to those eyes that draws him in, making him feel as though he could get lost in them forever and never want to find his way out.

As she speaks, her voice soft and gentle, Benny notices the way her lips move, their fullness accentuated by a hint of natural color. He finds himself mesmerized by every word, every subtle movement, as if she’s casting a spell over him without even trying. Her lips, slightly parted as she breathes, are inviting, and for a fleeting moment, he wonders what it would be like to kiss them, to feel their warmth against his own.

He’s close enough to see the delicate curve of her collarbone, the gentle slope of her shoulders, and the way her chest rises and falls with each breath she takes. There’s a fragility to her, something that makes him want to protect her, to shield her from anything that might harm her. Yet, at the same time, there’s an undeniable strength in the way she carries herself, in the quiet grace with which she moves.

Benny’s heart pounds in his chest, his breath catching as he drinks in every detail. He’s utterly captivated, entranced by her presence. It’s as if time has slowed, allowing him to savor this moment, to memorize every feature, every nuance of her being.

For the first time, Benny feels something shift deep within him—a connection, a pull that goes beyond mere attraction. He realizes, in that instant, that she’s not just a fleeting infatuation, not just a beautiful woman standing on a bridge. She’s someone who has touched something deep inside him, awakened feelings he didn’t know he could have.

As he stands there, looking into her eyes, Benny knows that he’s enchanted—not just by her beauty, but by the very essence of who she is. And in that moment, he understands that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to get to know her, to be close to her, and to see where this newfound connection might lead.

All he can do is nod, his eyes locked on hers, trying to keep his composure as his mind races. She smiles, a small, shy smile that makes his heart pound even harder.

“I found it over there,” she continues, pointing to the spot where he usually stops to watch her. “I wasn’t sure whose it was, but I’ve seen you here before, so...”

Her voice trails off, and she takes a step closer, holding out the lighter for him to take. He reaches out, his hand trembling slightly, and takes it from her, their fingers brushing for just a brief moment. The touch is electrifying, sending a jolt through him that leaves him even more tongue-tied.

“Thank you,” he finally manages to say, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. It’s all he can muster, but it’s enough. She nods, still smiling, her eyes lingering on his for just a moment longer before she glances away, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

There’s a silence between them, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s filled with all the unspoken words, all the feelings he’s been carrying in his heart without even realizing it. He wants to say more, to tell her how he’s noticed her every day, how much her presence has meant to him, but the words are tangled up inside him, caught in the whirlwind of emotions he’s never experienced before.

Finally, she breaks the silence. “I’m here most evenings,” she says softly, her eyes meeting his again, as if inviting him to stay longer next time, to maybe speak to her instead of just watching from afar.

He nods again, still too overwhelmed to say much, but his heart is racing with the possibility of more moments like this—of conversations, of connections, of maybe, finally, getting to know the woman who’s been a silent part of his life for so long.

With a final shy smile, she turns and walks away, heading toward the other side of the bridge, her figure gradually fading into the twilight. Benny watches her go, his lighter clutched tightly in his hand, feeling as though everything has changed in that brief encounter.

As he stands there, still processing what just happened, a sense of hope fills him—a hope that maybe this is just the beginning.

As the woman disappears into the twilight, the biker remains rooted to the spot, staring at the space where she had just stood. His heart is still pounding, but now that she’s gone, a wave of frustration begins to wash over him.

“What just happened?” he mutters to himself, still clutching the lighter she handed back to him. The realization of how he’d stood there, dumbstruck and unable to say anything meaningful, hits him hard. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh of exasperation.

“I stood there like a buffoon,” he chastises himself, shaking his head. He had imagined this moment so many times, had thought about what he might say if they ever spoke. But now that it had finally happened, he’d barely managed to get out a single word. “I could have said so many things,” he groans. “I didn’t even ask her name!”

He kicks at the gravel beneath his boots, annoyed with himself. This wasn’t like him at all. Normally, he was confident, smooth even. He knew how to talk to women, how to charm them. He’d never had trouble before—he could snap his fingers, and women would be drawn to him. But this woman, the one he’d been quietly obsessed with for weeks, had completely undone him with just a few words and a shy smile.

“What has this woman done to me?” he wonders aloud as he finally mounts his bike. He revs the engine, the familiar sound giving him a small sense of comfort, but it doesn’t shake the strange feeling that’s taken hold of him.

As he rides away from the bridge, the cool night air rushing past him, his mind is a swirl of thoughts and emotions. He tries to make sense of what happened, but the more he thinks about it, the more confused he becomes. There was something about her—something that made him feel things he hadn’t felt before, something that made him vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to.

The ride back is long, giving him plenty of time to think. He goes over the encounter again and again, replaying every detail in his mind. He imagines what he should have said, what he should have done differently. But despite his frustration, there’s a part of him that’s excited, hopeful even.

He knows now that she’s noticed him too, that she knows he’s been there, watching her. And the way she looked at him, the way she spoke—it was almost as if she wanted him to come back, to talk to her again.

As he pulls into his driveway, he kills the engine and sits on his bike for a moment, staring up at the night sky. He’s never felt this way about anyone before, and it scares him a little. But it also exhilarates him.

With a deep breath, he decides that the next time he sees her, things will be different. He’ll find the courage to speak, to ask her name, to finally start the conversation that’s been building in his heart for so long. He’s not sure what will happen, but he knows he can’t just let this opportunity slip away.

As he heads inside, he pockets the lighter, the small object now holding much more significance than before. He knows he’ll be back at that bridge tomorrow, and this time, he won’t just stand there like a fool. He’ll do what he should have done tonight—he’ll make sure she knows how much she’s come to mean to him.

let me know, you guys, my first benny fic, likes and reblogs welcome. <3 let me know if i should continue this....

[minamartin]

No but seriously. Normalize finding love in your 40's. Normalize discovering and chasing new dreams in your 30's. Normalize finding yourself and your purpose in your 50's. Life doesn't end at 25. Let's stop acting like it does.

[minamartin]

steph, i got you!! here's a benny ask if you're up for it :) him taking you on a date to the drive-in theater but he's not a fan of the genre and he's bored and can't keep his hands off of you and... aurrr i'm so SICK

Author's Note: Still not over the fact that you followed me back, Rose, I've been fangirling ever since. 🫣 Hope you like it! 🖤

Warnings: nsfw, smut, choking, mild exhibitionism? lmk if I forgot anything

He really should have looked to see what was playing tonight at the theater, but then again, they say hindsight is 20/20. And you're enjoying it, at least. That should be the only thing that counts, and normally it would be, but you're sitting so pretty in front of him and he's never taken into consideration just why that might be a terrible idea.

Because not only are you wearing a pair of cute, white shorts that show off your legs, but you're ass is pressed to the front of his matching white jeans and you're wiggling every so often to get comfortable and he has to clench his teeth every time you do it or else he's gonna take you right here—right here on this bike—next to all the other couples that are parked in the grass of the drive-in.

"Baby—" He grips your hip when you do it again. "You gotta quit movin' around so much."

You freeze, not realizing you might be disturbing him.

"Sorry." You whisper. "Not used to sitting up so straight."

"'S'okay," He presses his lips to your hair. "Wanna lean back?"

He could have kicked himself for suggesting such a stupid, stupid thing.

Because not only were you pressed up against his steadily hardening cock, but when you nod and melt into his embrace, he discovers he now has a direct line of sight to the moonlit valley of your breasts as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

Fucking hell.

He can practically feel the veins in his temples wanting to pop as he clenches his jaw again and then he's looking around at all the couples in their fancy Cadillacs and he's surprised to find there's really no one crowding around the two of you—most of the them are parked closer to the screen, with a select few even backed in so people can lay in the open beds of their trucks.

It gets the gears turning in his head real quick.

His mouth is on your neck and hand snaking under your shirt before you can register it and then you're gasping rather loudly into the night, making him cover your mouth with his free hand.

"Gotta be quiet f'me, baby." He murmurs in your ear, mustache tickling your skin and sending a shiver through you. "Got me hard as a rock and now you gotta pay the price."

You don't know how it's your fault he can't keep his hands to himself but you sigh against his hand when he tugs your shorts open and delves into the wetness that seems to always be waiting for him to discover. Your heart races as you think about someone seeing the two of you like this—all they'd have to do is glance back and they'd catch Benny encouraging one of your legs up to slip out of one side of your shorts and you bending over his bike with his spit soaked fingers in your mouth—but fuck if it doesn't rile you up all the more so you're plenty wet when he undoes his belt with a clink! to slip inside of you and fuck you deep like he's been wanting to ever since he switched places with you on his bike.

"Goddamn it—" He grunts quietly as he fists the white fabric that dangles off of your hip to pull you back with every thrust he aims at you. "Always ready f'me to have ya—shit!—you're so fucking perfect, baby, you don' even know."

You're sure you'll end up having a bruising ring around one leg in the morning but you find you don't really mind when he's talking like that and stretching you out so deliciously; you're at his mercy with the way you're sitting, thighs spread on either side of the leather seat that you're probably soaking with sticky desire.

And with the way you're creaming around his dick and gasping for air with strangled garbles around his fingers, he know it's only a matter of time before you're gonna be letting out a very loud, very normal scream, so he leans forward as he grinds his hips against yours, forcing his cock as deep as it'll go while he wraps a hand around your throat—squeezing the column of your neck so you can still breath while his other hand covers your mouth.

A quick look at the movie screen reveals an action scene that features blaring, dramatic music, the perfect time for him to fuck into you the way he wanted—faster, harder, jolting you with ever thrust as his breathing became erratic.

The pressure on your throat seemed to highten the pleasure setting your senses alight, and he's not surprised to feel your walls clamp down on him like a vice when you come, prompting his own release. He lets go of your throat and uncovers your mouth, smoothing the sweat slicked hair back from your face as you try to catch yourbreath.

"Holy fuck, Benny." You laugh shakily, turning your head to nuzzle against his cheek. "I gotta take you to the movies more often."

He lets out a chuckle, smiling into your neck. He'd been the one to invite you out but if this was the outcome of going to a boring weeknight movie with you? He'd take it.

[minamartin]

i think benny aches to be accepted :( that's why the club means to much to him :( that's why johnny means so much to him :( that's why you mean so much to him :( he just wants to be accepted n'he knows he doesn't have much to offer - his childhood fucked 'em up - n'he doesn't really know how to be part of a functioning society but he wants to try. you give him the courage to try because if someone so good and so pure and so perfect can give him a chance, maybe, just maybe, he's worth fightin' for. maybe he's got somethin' to offer and so you tell him every single day that he's so so worthy of love. so worthy of staying. so worthy of creating a worthwhile life for himself :( you tell 'em you love 'em and you hold 'em extra tight on nights when it's hard and you refuse to let go because benny is worth it. you accept him in all forms of the word n’you’re gonna love him til the world falls apart.

[minamartin]

Chapter 4 - Will He Be Okay?

Thank you guys for all the likes and reblogs! I also would appreciate your comments below. It would be nice to know, what you guys think about the story, the characters. As always, i appreciate everyone who is interested in this little story. I try upload a chapter every week, but sometimes it takes a little longer.

Rating : Mature, NSFW

Warnings : Mentions of smut - not the complete thing though just yet, Mentions of physical abuse, Mentions of psychological abuse, Trigger warning for people who feel sensitive about cancer.

Stella, who long minutes before was still in a panicked state, started feeling simply anxious as she drove onto the familiar street. She had no idea what she was doing here instead of the police station. That's where she should've gone. They should handle this! But she just couldn't escape her meeting with Vince or her own thoughts. Because ever since Robert mentioned him going to jail, she couldn't answer a simple question: – Who called the police?!

She stopped before the all too familiar house and pulled the handbrakes in front of the closed garage door. She didn't turn off the engine. She glanced at the garage door and dark windows. Maybe he is not even home!

She started banging on the door ferociously in the hopes that he would open the door and she wouldn't have to start thinking about turning to the police. She continued her efforts, until she saw light behind one of the windows. The lock on the door clanked, and there was Benny. With a little bit of messed up hair, shirtless in his black boxer briefs, but with an awake and way too alert gaze. Stella felt windswept for a few seconds when she caught sight of the abs she haven't seen on him before. She gave herself a second as she closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her mouth started moving as well.

"This was your idea? Hiding that shit on the farm?!"

Benny's face showed his confusion. "You know i'm not good at trivia!"

"Drugs, Benny!" Stella yelled.

Benny didn't exactly have many neighbors, but he was a little concerned about the volume of Stella's voice. He grabbed her upper arm, and with a peaceful intent but firm grip, yanked her close to his chest and stepped inside his house, dragging her in as well. He flicked the light on the wall, and the foyer lit up. "What are you talking about?"

Stella violently pulled out her arm from Benny's grasp and started walking up and down in the small foyer. Benny listened to her panting and watched as she put her palm on her forehead as she tried to calm herself down in front of his confused gaze.

"I was at the farm. The new owners wanted to know something about some water pipes. I remembered something, and i walked off the road towards the tree line, all the way to the fence. And then, at the foot of a fucking tree, there is a giant spot of wet dirt. I started to look, maybe a water pipe broke...whatever, im thinking if i showed them where it was, they would leave me alone." Stella rambled on in a firm, categorical tone. "And what i've found, is a pack of carefully wrapped something, that has this card on it!" Stella pulled out the card from her jeans back pocket.

Benny took the card between his long fingers, and one look was enough. It was the Ghoul's symbol. A hooded monster figure with a cane in its hand. Benny's bare foot thumped through the silence of the house. Stella leaned back against the first wall she found. Panic and anxiety started to attack her again. She had no clue why she was even here. She should've gone to the police! It was their job to deal with this!

In the dimly lit hallway, Stella saw Benny's tall frame approaching. In one hand he was holding his boots, and with the other, he was dragging a black t-shirt onto his muscular torso. Stella's stressed out, dry mouth started to water, and she nervously watched as he stepped into his boots, and grabbed his keys, and led her out of the house. "Show me where you've found this!" He opened the garage and grabbed a shovel, then closed the garage just like the house.

Benny stopped beside the open door of the passenger seat in her car. She stood frozen beside the garage, staring in front of herself. "Stella!" Benny's voice got through the fog in her brain. "Get in!" He reminded her that she was still standing in front of the garage, staring into the void. She hesitantly walked back to her car and got into the driver seat. She drove without a word throughout the entire way.

Stella slowly stopped the car and glanced towards the glove compartment, but she would not dare reach towards it. Benny's lap and arms were too close to it. She swallowed hard and said "There is a flashlight in...in the glove box!" She stuttered and opened the door and got out of the car, running her eyes through the thick tree line. She saw Benny getting out as well and grabbing the shovel from under the back seat.

Stella grew more nervous than when she was here alone. Benny turned on the flashlight and waited for Stella to lead the way. She heard Benny's steps behind her, but she also felt his presence. When she stopped in her tracks, Benny lightly bumped into her back. Her breath hitched as she felt his hips bump into her lower back and behind. She moved instinctively. Her right arm reached back and sideways. Gently grabbing his wrist and lifting it. Her fingers couldn't even form a complete hold on his whole wrist.

Benny shivered at her touch. Goosebumps covered his arm, and the pleasant, electric feeling quickly traveled down to his groin area. He wanted to stay like this forever. He wanted to toss away the shovel and the light and wrap both of his hands around her instead.

Stella had to concentrate and put significant willpower into moving away from his body. She felt like a magnet, trying and managing to break the laws of physics. Her body felt like it belonged to Benny's, and it was unnatural to try to get away from him. Her body was resisting it, but her mind was still relatively clear from his influence.

Benny realized the spot that Stella's was directing the light toward. He gave the flashlight to her. Their fingers brushed together, and their gazes found each other's. They both felt that unexplainable feeling that caused them to stir under their skin.

Stella glanced away.

Benny forced himself to focus on digging.

"Careful!" Stella warned him. "The one i've found, i didn't bury deep!"

Benny quickly found the first one. More precisely, the shovel did. It cut it in half. White powder was mixed into the dirt. He continued digging and sweeping the dirt away. Stella nervously held the flashlight as Benny dug and dug. In the poor light, she was still able to see the muscles in his arms working. Her mouth started to water again, and a familiar throbbing and pulsating feeling started to make itself obvious at the center of her groin.

Her sane mind mocked her body. She was standing on someone else's property in the middle of the night while Benny was digging up illegal drugs that she had found earlier, and she was turned on by the sight of his muscular arms. She clenched her jaws and swallowed nervously. She kept the flashlight on the spot, but she forced her eyes away. She contemplated returning to her therapist. It seemed like her money was thrown out, because she is officially and without a doubt insane!

"Twelve packs. Counting the ripped one too." Benny broke the silence.

Stella noticed he hadn't even broken a sweat. His breath wasn't even hitching or becoming ragged, despite the obviously hard labor he was doing continuously without stopping.

"This at least worth a million!" Benny said it firmly, and a muscle in his jaw twitched.

"Can we just get out of here? I mean...if this worth that much, someone must be nearby to keep an eye on it!" Stella asked, tip-toeing nervously and running the flashlight through the trees, keeping an ear out for suspicious noises around them.

"Whoever buried this thought that no one would find it. You left five years ago, the farm was abandoned, so he used it to stash this. Now that it is sold, soon he will be looking for this." Said Benny, grabbing as many packs as he could with his hands and glanced at her. "Bring the shovel, would ya'?!"

Stella grabbed up the tool and followed Benny, directing the light in front of their feet. Stella turned off the flashlight when they reached the car and watched wordlessly as Benny shoved the packs under her front seats. Stella's mind was attacked by doubt. "It wasn't you...was it?!" Stella felt ashamed asking this out loud, but she also felt distrustful. Towards everyone. Even him.

Benny felt like acid was flung onto his skin and soul.

"Are you serious?" Benny's back straightened up, standing beside the car.

"Do i look like i'm joking?!" Stella scoffed.

Benny flunged the car door in and with a few long strides, closed the distance between themselves. His tall and broad frame towered over her, and his angry gaze was burning her eyes, but she held her ground and did not back down an inch.

"No, Stella! I did not hide drugs on your farm!"

Stella glanced down.

"Is this what you thought of me? Someone who would do something like this?"

Benny's tone was clearly saddened.

"I don't know what to think anymore. About anyone." Stella's voice was weak and sad, her gaze was distant. She felt lost. Lost in her life, lost in her thoughts, lost in her feelings, lost in her decisions.

Benny softly grabbed her face, directing her eyes onto his face.

"You can trust me!" He said.

Stella was barely able to look at him, let alone find her voice.

But eventually she did.

"I trusted you." She said it in a matter of fact way. "And then what happened?!"

Benny felt like a knife had slashed through his heart.

"I-im..." He started stuttering. "I'm sorry about your father."

Stella glanced aside.

"I'm not talking about my fucking father!" She said it with weak anger.

Stella gently removed his hands from her face, and with tired movements, walked back to the car. She had a hard time not starting to cry. She never loved her father because she was never even close to him. The closest she got to him were his hands and feet. When she pretended like he wasn't even there, she wished he would fucking die already before he killed her. She had a hard time admitting it even to herself, but she felt relief when she heard he died, and it made her feel like she was a bad person. Yet, she couldn't lie to herself.

When Robert told her the truth that Carly tried to hide from her, that relief was gone in an instant. Because when she thought about the price of her father's death, was not simply the insignificant price of an incineration, but Benny's freedom. The men's, who's name would have been written beside the definition of freedom in a dictionary. The men who meant more to her than that miserable excuse of a father ever did. And that made her feel like fuming with anger, because the price of her freedom from her father's abuse was never Benny's to pay, it was hers. She should have been able to rescue herself like Carly did. Simply just give up and leave. Cut ties, forget, and move on completely alone in the world.

Stella's tired eyes glanced aside at Benny, who sat back in the passenger seat.

His eyes darted downward in defeat.

Stella started the engine and drove themselves, and the heavy silence that swept between them as a ghost, back to Benny's house.

She stopped before the garage.

"I never asked you to kill him! I never would have asked that!"

Stella felt if she doesn't say this out loud, it would poison her from inside.

"You never should've and i would have done it anyway!" Benny said quietly.

"His life never worth as much as your freedom!" Stella said it in a trembling voice.

"No, but yours did!" Benny's voice was stern.

Stella kept her thoughts to herself, and they quickly got rerouted.

"Vince stopped me yesterday." She said.

"Yeah, he told me." Benny said, and he felt nervous in his stomach. He wanted a smoke, but if he got out to get them from his bedroom, he was sure Stella would be gone by the time he came back with them.

"And you figured out yet who called the police on you?" Stella asked.

"No." Benny felt shame because of his own inadequacy.

Stella looked at him, and her eyes continued to study his face.

Benny felt as if the sun had come up this very night and warmed his face.

"You might want to give a call to your big boobed blonde friend!" Stella's voice was serious, but her gaze was a little bit sarcastic.

Benny rolled his eyes and slightly shook his head as he looked out the window. He didn't want to hear about it anymore. He had Vince to remind him about that, now he had Stella to rub salt into the still rotting wound, and he had his own fucking memories of that event.

"However it sounds, Benny, i'm serious!" Stella pressed on this opinion of hers.

Benny's brows raised upwards as he fully turned his torso in the seat towards Stella. "What do you mean?" He asked with curious eyes.

"Well...i have less to go on than you. I didn't see anyone around the farm, but i wasn't exactly in the mood to notice any fucking thing if it had not jumped in front of my car that night...so it is possible that someone was there in the dark, only i didn't noticed him...or her." She entertained and voiced her own thoughts on this matter, except some of her feelings of anger seeped through. "And we never had anyone in that house, so it was just my father, me when i arrived, and apparently you when you arrived. The only person who wasn't in the house but had awareness or guesses where you might be going after you left your own house, would be your blonde friend!"

Benny remained quiet while looking at and away from Stella's face as the gears of his mind worked hard. "She could've called someone." Benny's voice was barely audible as he looked out the window.

"Exactly. It doesn't matter if someone was at the farm or not, all it took was the knowledge...of who i was and where you might be going! She saw me there, i don't think she was working at NASA, but i'm pretty sure she was able to put two and two together and make a call when you left her in your house or made her leave, whatever!"

Stella saw a muscle strain in Benny's jaw. She glanced out her side of the window. Benny in an angered state was not a nice or safe environment for anyone, especially the one person who angered him. Yet, she didn't grow nervous or fearful while sitting in her seat. "You took her home from the bar?"

"Yeah." He said shamefully.

"I've never seen her around there. I mean the bar." She said.

"You remember every single one of them who walked in?" Benny scoffed with a smile.

"Yes, Benny. I remember most of them." Stella said it with a sad tone. She started to count and recognize each one that walked into the Pit and she especially took notice of the ones that shamelessly eyed Benny, either from a distance or up close, despite her sometimes standing right next to him. They could not care. They thought they would be better, or he could do better. And despite Benny sometimes throwing a few flirty lines towards them, he always returned home with her behind him on his bike and holding her close to him in his bed. But that didn't make Stella less anxious. Benny was free as a bird. If he wanted to fly off, there was nothing she could do about it.

Stella saw a few that made her a little bit jealous and insecure, but given it was a small town, the selection of those was not overwhelming, thankfully. But in the end, it didn't even matter.

Stella's buzzing phone grabbed both of their attention.

Benny saw a picture on her phone as her caller's background. A brown haired, smiling man held her in front of him with his hands on her stomach. The name on the screen was Sebastian. Stella grabbed the phone quickly and answered it. "Yes?!"

Benny concentrated heavily, but he could not hear the man she was talking to.

Stella was aware of Benny's presence, but she listened to Sebastian so she could put the phone down as quickly as she could. "I will have a long night. If i should sleep in, could you pick up my dry cleaning tomorrow morning?" Sebastian asked.

"Of course."

"Thank you. Also, you had a big package this early afternoon." He added.

"Probably the fabrics." Stella said quietly.

"Okay. I made a hotel reservation in San Francisco for the weekend, if you don't have any plans, we could go together. There are a few new restaurants that could be interesting." He added.

"I don't know. I probably don't have anything."

"Okay. We should talk about it tomorrow." He said.

"Okay, we will."

"Okay. Bye." Sebastian put down the phone, and so did Stella.

A sigh erupted from Stella as she glanced at the clock on the dash.

"Boyfriend?" Benny asked with a hint of fury and poison in his voice.

"Yes." Stella said it quietly, like she just insulted him on some level.

Benny's right hand clenched up into a fist between his seat and the door, invisible to Stella's eyes. He felt his jaw tense up so bad, as if he were getting ready to tank a punch. He wanted to throw punches at this very moment. His mind went to wild places with unwanted pictures. Someone else touching and kissing Stella. Her naked breasts touching someone else's chest, not his. He needed a cigarette, or better yet, someone to punch to relieve his anger and frustration. Instead, he just took a deep breath through his nose.

"What is he doing? I mean, what's his job?" Benny couldn't hold back his curiosity.

"I don't want to talk about it. Him." Stella said quietly. "And you shouldn't be asking questions about him. You should be asking questions to Johnny, so you might get out of this alive!" Stella added and took a deep breath through her nose. It was a mistake. Her car's air refreshener was weaker than Benny's scent. Her naked, dirt covered toes curled in her sandals.

"How the fuck do i know if it wasn't him?" Benny asked in an angered tone.

"Johnny?!" It was Stella's turn to get louder and frustrated at him. "Benny, the only person from that club, besides Vince, that i'm sure hasn't had any hand in what happened to you, is Johnny! He is a proud, egotistic, violent asshole, but you always were like a son to him, and i don't think that type of thing changes so easily, if ever!" Stella said it with firm conviction.

"I haven't realized you paid so much attention." Benny said, scoffing.

Stella felt furious.

"I did, Benny! I always did! I couldn't give a shit about that club, and if the majority of those dudes were to catch fire, i wouldn't as much as spit on them, but it was important to you! They were important to you, so i paid attention! And i think it's safe to say that at this point you probably arrived to the conclusion, that you always cared more about them than they ever did about you! Save Vince, again. And Johnny, probably." Stella's voice softened when she mentioned Vince, but it had a sour sting and a hint of unsureness in it when she added Johnny.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, princess, but not all of us grew up in a nice home with parents who took care of our needs! Some of us, you know...had to find our own family where we could belong. So yeah, they were important to me!" Benny said it in an accusatory tone.

A loud and painful sound escaped Stella's throat.

"You, out of all people should know that my home was nothing sort of nice, so keep your taunts for someone else, who you think had such a nice life! And if that's the way you think of them, nice fucking family you have found! Setting you up and sending you to jail for whatever reason you were inconvenient to them!"

"Says the girl who's own father used her as his fucking punching bag!"

Both of them started to feel as if the car was a sardine box around them.

"You know what...i felt like i owed you for what you did for me, so i figured i'd give you advice, but if you don't want it, you might as well get out! Or better yet! I'll drive you to the Pit myself if you are so eager to defend those who stabbed you in the back! This time, they'll probably be content with just stabbing you up front. Literally!"

Benny couldn't listen to this anymore, and with a sarcastic and mean laugh he got out and taking a glance around the street, making sure no one was around, started to get the packs out from under the seats and load them into his garage until he figured out where to actually hide them or what to do with them.

Stella got out of the car because she felt like she will burn up inside. She started pacing up and down beside the car with crossed arms at her chest. She moved her top away and back to her skin, using it as a fan. Her skin was burning, her lips were trembling and she still had Benny's scent up in her nose.

Benny had thrown away his self control and the shovel in his hand with it. It loudly clanked and thumped on the dark garage floor as he angrily stomped over to Stella, who realized she got stuck between her car and Benny. "Why did you even tell me about this? Hm? Why didn't you just go to the fucking police if you loathe me this much?!" His voice was frustrated, his eyes were glassy, and his face looked more vulnerable than ever. Even just hearing the word loathe me broke Stella's soul to pieces, but all this together...she couldn't hold all of her emotions anymore. She had to let out some before they made her explode.

Her hand flung and she slapped Benny in the face. The sound had echoed between them for a long second as Benny's head turned in the direction of the weak hit he got. His surprise wasn't visible because he felt like it was a long time coming and he deserved it. She couldn't believe this was her first reaction, nor the fact that he was this stupid!

"I don't loathe you, Benny!" Her voice was brittle. "I care about you! I don't want you to waste your life in prison or to...i don't...i don't want you to die!" Her face contorted, and her voice trembled and became high pitched for a second, holding herself back from crying.

Benny's newly found self control broke down. He forcefully grabbed Stella's face, and his mouth found her's like a magnet. Stella felt all her strength leave her in a second. Relief found them both, and their strained, quiet moans mixed up in the air before their next kiss. Stella's finger found the fabric of Benny's t-shirt and grabbed ahold of it for leverage. She was afraid that her legs will give out. Her whole body felt so hot, like it was burning, when Benny grabbed her ass to hold her closer. The desperation and need behind his kiss was overwhelming.

Stella felt all her thoughts go out the window with Benny's finger digging into her flesh. As his jeans clothed erection brushed against her, a helpless moan erupted from her mouth, going straight into his. Benny's kiss instinctively deepened, wanting more. His hand pulled her even closer. Stella pushed her weight a bit to her toes to reach a little bit higher to his face. Their noses bumped together, and his hot breath leaving his nose was radiating onto Stella's face, and the short beard around his lips was prickling her skin. His tongue was wandering in and out of her mouth, and she couldn't get enough of him!

"I'm not gonna die!" He whispered into her mouth, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. "I'm not gonna die, i promise!" He said it with a tense jaw and continued to kiss her in a much more tender, but not less passionate way. Stella felt her whole body go weak. Oxygen was rushing back into her brains as Benny's kisses started to become slower and more intimate. Her resolution was wearing thin as she felt his erection grow stonger and bigger.

Stella broke away by pulling her whole head backwards and then sideways.

"I need to go!" She breathed hard, and her voice was still weak with desire.

Benny extended his arms beside her head, holding onto the top of the car.

"Back to your boyfriend?!" He asked half accusatory, half heartbroken.

"Yes. Back to my boyfriend." Stella felt these words as a lie.

"Do you love him?" Benny asked moving his head along with hers, continuously looking for Stella's gaze as she was trying to avert it so she didn't have to look into his eyes. All it took was one long look into his eyes and another kiss, and she was lost.

"I'm with him, Benny." She said and she ducked down under his arm, but he was faster. His hand hooked onto her waist and pulled her back against himself, and kept her there. Stella had trouble breathing again, now, when she thought she just catched her breath.

"Do you love him?!" Benny's tone was more direct and right in her ear.

Stella felt weak in her bones from his voice alone. His palm was flat and gentle against her belly but still, he was the stronger one. As always. Stella felt as if the price to her freedom was a lie, so she was ready to say it.

"I loved you!" She wrestled off Benny's arm off herself. She received no resistance as she got into her car and drove off.

*

Many hours have passed since Stella arrived back at the apartment. She took a long shower, she washed her hair, she did her long skincare routine, and then she tried to sleep, but she couldn't. This is how she found herself above her sketchbook. She tried to add new pieces to her designs both on her computer and in her sketchbook. But her mind wasn't even near where it should have been. She was still thinking about Benny. And his kiss. And his touch. And his scent. And his scruff scratching against her skin.

She sat in her chair with a pencil in hand and tried to push her curiosity towards the dress she was intent on designing and making, but her memories kept vomiting up distracting images and sensory driven micro hallucinations.

She received Benny's touch in the past, she received his kisses. His cock was in her more times than she would be able to admit without feeling shame. At one point in that summer, she kept thinking both of them should get help, because they couldn't remain fully clothed for more than a few hours. There wasn't a minute when his hands weren't on her body somewhere. It could have been her back, waist, hips, face or just her shoulder or hair. He never let her go further than his arms could reach her and she didn't want to be far away from him either.

Stella's frustrated huff was the only noise in her spacious closet room, which she used as an office as well. Her own clothes, her dressing table, and her tools and fabrics for designs were here as well. But no matter how many small things were laying around, serving as a reminder of what she came here to do, she could not think clearly or remain focused. The only thing she was able to consciously do was rubbing her thighs together and hope that the arousal will go away on its own, like it did many times before.

She glanced down at the box of fabrics. Sebastian receiving the huge package made her think of him. She could not make sense of it all. She couldn't even fathom how it started and had gone as long as it did. Two years. Sometimes she wondered and tried to remember the exact moment she decided that whatever Sebastian was able or willing to provide would be enough for her.

She met him for the very first time she ever went to a farmers market. It was an entirely new experience for her. Sebastian was selecting vegetables at the same seller she was standing in front of. She was taking a closer look at the weird shaped tomatoes, which she had never seen before. Sebastian said only one word – heirloom tomatoes. He started telling her about them and offered to tell her more if she was curious. And she was. But more so about the handsome man, who knew more than her.

They went to have lunch on their first date. And then they went to many dates in restaurants, cafes, bakeries, museums, and Sebastian's apartment. The very first time she was about to have sex with him, she was just as nervous as when she was before her first time with Benny, only for an entirely different reason.

This time, her body had way more scars than before. Even though the plastic surgeon and her dermatologist did the best they could, she was still really insecure about her scars. She would prefer all of them to be gone and not simply minimized. The biggest and deepest one was on her right side, where the surgeon made the incision to save her from internal bleeding. It has whitened and thinned out, but was visible from a close distance and also a little bit noticeable by touch. The older and more uglier ones were on her back. These were the ones from her father's belt, and they also whitened and thinned out, but were clearly touchable. One on the outer side of her left breast was simply visible up close but not touchable. This was from a cut, that she got when she tried to run from her father, and she had fallen onto some broken glass and porcelain, without having a bra on. Her breast grew along with it into adulthood, stretching it longer than it was before.

The first few times Sebastian didn't even notice her scars because they only had sex with the lights off. They only had sex in broad daylight once, when Sebastian saw her scars and didn't seem to be enthusiastic to have sex with her in visible conditions again. Then after a while, he didn't seem interested in having sex with her at all. Stella grew to accept it as time passed. She didn't try to initiate it and so far the two years into their relationship, she could count on one hand, how many times she was able to reach an orgasm or was simply shown a little affection through physical touch.

She tried to look back to find the reason he lost interest in her, or when did she lost the courage to try to reach out to him. Or maybe they simply both lost interest in each other. Or they never had it in the first place. They were just two people who didn't know how to connect to people, and gaining knowledge of this fact about each other, they made a wordless agreement to simply keep each other company, so neither of them have to be completely alone nor will they have to feel awkward about not feeling the need or not having the ability to go deeper into this relationship.

Stella knew that Sebastian entertained himself with other women with whom he could find common ground with regards to sex, but nothing else. He was subtle and tried to remain respectful towards her about it – never bringing a woman to their shared bed or apartment, never taking such a woman's calls in front of her, never appearing in public with another woman other than her. On the other hand, he kept Stella as a dutiful actress who played the part of an intelligent, well read, well behaved, beautiful prop that could appear on his side in certain public events, but he expected nothing else from her.

She tried to reach out to him many times in the first few months of their relationship, but she kept hitting brick walls. On rare occasions when they sat on the couch at the same time, Stella would sit very close to him, trying to go in for a cuddle or just waiting for an extended arm or a hand on her thigh, but never got anything. A hug from behind at the kitchen counter or a kiss on the cheek never happened.

On the other hand, he was very generous and affectionate in public places. Kisses on the cheek, holding her close while standing in line at a bakery, walking the streets of foreign cities while holding hands, hugging each other for a photo. These were the only occassions on which Stella would get any physical affection from Sebastian.

Stella felt like her whole relationship was a big theater, and she was playing a role in her own life, instead of living it. Playing the pretty girlfriend in pretty clothes, with impeccable manners and a gentle, polite personality who Sebastian could introduce to his colleagues and acquaintances and receive compliments. She never complained about anything, at least not out loud. She never had a problem when Sebastian planned their vacations without her having a word on where they are going, where they would be sleeping, or what sights they saw, what restaurants they visited. She just went along, paid her part, and pretended to be happy in a different place.

She lived more in the month she spent with Benny that summer than she ever did in her whole life, and not a single second was spent pretending. She couldn't wait to wake up in the morning and spend the entire day with him. She had seen some stuff from the scarier side of life, but never for a second did she feel unsafe with Benny, nor did she ever want to be with anyone else.

After she recovered from that night, she started to look at it as a lesson she was forced to learn, yet she never had any idea what the subject of that lesson was. She felt as if she was forced to change by outer circumstances. She took her bad experiences, which she barely lived through, as a warning. A warning to look for a decent, calm, and predictable guy if she wants to be with someone at all. When she started dating Sebastian, she wasn't even looking to be with someone. She just didn't want to be alone with her thoughts and her feelings, but that's exactly what happened in the end.

Stella glanced down at her sketches. The longing ache between her legs was still apparent and unshakeable. All it took was one kiss from Benny. A little bit more than five years have passed, and Benny was still able to drive her insane with just one of his kisses. Sensory and sex deprivation probably took part in the state she was currently in as well. Stella couldn't ignore the irony of someone as calculated, centered and self controlled as Sebastian didn't have a quarter of passion in his whole body that Benny had in a single finger.

In the very first few days of knowing Benny, she had her suspicions about him. She thought someone as rebellious and angry as him would probably treat her with the same notions, but she couldn't be further from the truth. Benny's rebellious nature was intrinsically his, that was for sure, but that anger he had...it stemmed from the purest and deepest type of love, and the fear of losing it and never having it in the first place at the same time. Stella couldn't get enough of discovering new layers of him every single day. And all of a sudden, she ran out of days to do that.

She missed him wildly.

Every day.

In every single way.

She finished her drawings and worked on her computer when she heard Sebastian close and lock the door a little after two a.m. She closed her eyes and reminded herself of how she felt the very last time she tried to have sex with Sebastian. Sweaty and insecure hands tried to mimic interest in her body. Like an amateur who barely ever touched a piano tried to play a concerto. His lips were always too weak and indecisive. As soon as he got what he needed or wanted, he left her behind at the base of the mountain she hadn't even begun to climb to fend for herself. She always gave up these losing battles.

She grew nervous looking at the closed wardrobe room door. She knew Sebastian would never barge in through that door. She could never even recall an occassion when he knocked on that door when it was closed. And if she was completely honest with herself, she probably should do the same. She will not start to knock on a door that will never open for her.

She clenched her thighs together and focused on her work.

*

Benny finished his cigarette, sitting with his back against the wall. He watched as his drunk friends stumbled out of the bar. Some of them left their bikes here because, in the state they were in, they barely found the door of the bar. Benny couldn't remember the last time he was this wasted. His bet would probably be never. He never had problems controlling himself with booze. He had a little bit harder time with cigarettes, and a little while ago, it seemed like a nearly impossible effort to get a grip on his anger, but it seemed that the impossible was the new normal for him.

He stumped his cigarette in the ashtray and stood up from the chair. He finished his warmed up beer and with his box of cigarettes and the empty bottle in hand, started to walk towards Gail, who helped the bartender collect the empty bottles and glasses, trying to make the bar as close to clean and orderly as they could.

"Hey, Gail. Do you have a minute?" Benny asked nicely.

"Sure. What's up?!" She said, touching his upper arm, while with her other hand she stacked empty beer bottles onto a tray.

"I was wondering if you remember the blonde girl from a few years ago. I went home with her the night the cops took me." Benny didn't have to look around. Johnny, Wahoo, Cockroach, and Mel, all of them went home. Two guys in the far corner were sweeping up the broken glasses, cigarette buds, and peanut shells, and Brucie was finishing his glass of bourbon at the bar while he waited for Gail.

Gail stopped in her tracks, reaching for new bottles.

"Boy, you have to be more specific! You had many blondes and then more!"

"Blonde, big boobs. If i remember well..." And he did. Every detail of that mistake burned in his mind. "She had a butterfly tattoo on her ankle. But i can't remember which one." Benny added.

Gail straightened up. She put her hand on her hip. Her eyes were moving all around while she was thinking quietly. "I think she wasn't from town. But she came with a few girls from town. I can ask around, maybe they know where she is nowadays." Gail said nodding, and then flung the kitchen towel in her hand towards Benny's head. "You are a moron! You ruined that perfect thing you had with Stella!" Gail said angrily collecting the empty bottles.

"Im aware." Benny murmured under his breath as he left the bar.

*

Vince parked his car in front of Johnny's house. His body was shaking from an overwhelming cough. The pain kept echoing between his ribcages and traveling down his left side as well. He wiped his mouth. The blood on the handkerchief was nothing new to him. He failed to remember when it started, but the fatigue that kept floating above him like a raincloud, was harder to bear and fight, despite having only appeared in the last few weeks. For the pain, there were painkillers. A lot of them have gone down these days.

He slowly got out of his car and with slow steps, approached the door. He fastly repeated the notions in his head, that he wanted to get through in this upcoming conversation, before ringing the bell. He saw that the lights were on downstairs and upstairs as well. It wasn't so late that his visit would be deemed outraegous, but late enough for Johnny to surely be at home.

Vince never visited anybody at their home. He respected the guys who had managed to build a normal and stable life around themselves, and he had no heart to disturb it. Whatever he wanted to talk about, could have waited until they showed up at the Pit the next day. But not this!

He wasn't surprised by the expression on Johnny's face when he opened the door.

"Sorry for coming here. I hoped you would show up at the Pit today, but you didn't."

"No worries. What's up?" Johnny stepped out and closed the door.

"I wanted to talk to you about the kid!" Vince said, fighting back a cough.

"What about him? He seems to be doing fine." Johnnny said it nonchalantly.

"Yeah. He certainly looks the part." Vince mumbled quietly. "I wanted to talk about something he mentioned happening while he was inside. It was so interesting, i thought i share it with you."

Johnny stepped closer with a curious gaze.

"He said that a few months after he was in, a couple of guys ganged up on him, and tried to off him. One of them had the Ghoul's brand on him. He said they beat him up pretty bad. They were ready to slit his throat when the guard's shift change took place and the new guards heard them going at it."

Johnny studied Vince's face patiently. His brows furrowed slightly.

"It happens a lot. A lot of Ghoul's did time for either drugs or murder. I would imagine a lot of them would be jizzing their pants to get their hands on one of us. The fact that they can't go through town to sell their shit and have to store it further away...they probably lost a lot of money. They were pissed off, that's what it is." Johnny said, scratching his eyebrow out of frustration.

"Yes." Vince nodded glancing aside to the street. "Money makes some people go insane. But the main thing that concerns me, is that the Ghoul told Benny, that our club wanted to get rid of him."

Johnny stiffened and his gaze hardened right onto Vince's face.

"So that's why you're here!" Johnny murmured with tensed up jaws. "To ask if i was the one who wanted to get rid of the kid?!"

Vince sensed the thin ice he dared upon, but he did not care.

"Thought has crossed my mind." Vince said it with a passive tone.

A thin, threatening smile slid up onto Johnny's lips.

"You got some fucking nerve, mate!" Johnny nodded with an angry expression on his face. "That kid is like a son to me! Do you think i would try to hustle some half-assed scheme to try to kill him...and for what exactly?!" Johnny leaned closer to weigh his words right down on Vince's conscience.

"Well...that's exactly what led me to you. The fact that you had no reason to try to get rid of him, since you yourself asked him to take over when you're done. That makes you the only person i'm sure of not being in on it. But it also makes you the person, who someone actually tried to get rid of, by removing Benny. Which makes me think...that someone was worried about Benny taking over instead of him once you're stepping down or...you are removed. And if and when you are removed, he still has to deal with the kid. I think someone saw an opportunity and took it."

Vince's saw the visible proof of his words registering in Johnny, as he started to slowly pace up and down. He watched as his club leader tried to digest the situation that, up until now, was nonexistent to him.

"So...we have a snake." Johnny said, surveying the dark street.

"It seems so." Vince said peacefully. "And that snake probably has a few people helping him." Vince said, sniffling and trying to ignore the pain in his chest and back.

"What do you mean?" Johnny turned towards him.

"I keep asking myself the same question...ever since the kid went inside. Who called the cops on him?! Chamberlain surely didn't, unless he was ready to out himself as the piece of shit he always was." Vince's brows furrowed as he watched the left side of Johnny's face twitch. "The kid surely didn't, and the girl...i mean she could have when she sensed that things were going really badly for her...but when did she ever call the cops on him before, you know?!"

Vince only saw a side profile of Johnny's face.

Regret and sadness swept up on it as he listened to Vince's ongoing thoughts.

"So someone had to be out there...watching the house that night. Or followed Benny from home. So...i went out to have a walk around the farm...which really took a lot out of me. But eventually, i found something. Pretty much a million worth of cocaine, buried under a tree, with the Ghoul's branding on it."

Vince was aware that he was lying and what could be the consequence of that, but at this point he stopped giving a shit. Rather be his, who's door they kick down if his instincts were wrong, trusting Johnny, than Benny's. He will not spend his last months on this earth, mourning the kid he raised and could have saved, if he had made the right decision. And this was the right decision. The only decision.

*

Stella drove past the gas station that seemed to be an unlucky place for her, seeing as she kept bumping into Vandal's there. This time she filled up her car in the city before she left it and hoped that she wouldn't meet any other leather clad biker this time. Although, it would be weird if she did, as she was intending to visit the town hall and its archives.

The only reason she ventured here again, was the advice of her lawyer, who currently worked on looking up all documents, regarding the farm and its surrounding area. According to him, certain documents should be found at the town hall, considering the size of their farm, the surrounding neighbors, and the closeness of the forest, that was in the possession of the town. There used to be constant bickering about the ending of the forest and the beginning of the farm.

She walked into the building, and in her usual polite manner, asked for some guidance, but she quickly met disinterested, passive aggressive rudeness, as the old lady informed her that out of the only three people who worked there, two had already left for lunch and she would not stay either, so she had to leave and come back in an hour.

"It's a joke!" She murmured as she walked back to her car and sat back in it, debating what she should do, and where she should spend this hour. Because spending an hour sitting in her car, in a parking spot that had no trees or any shade above it, surely wasn't a good idea.

She decided to go to a place, where she hadn't been in a while. The diner in town was a popular place among all age groups. High schoolers liked to hang out in or around there for their cheap milkshakes and for the curly fries they did back then. Stella wasn't really surprised that the place haven't changed at all. Everything was the same red and white color. The tables and chairs outside were freshly painted, judging by the thick, vibrant red color of the wood. She left the outer seats to the families, those who had plenty of little kids running around them. She walked in and sat in the last box at the far end of the diner. The inside of it was much quieter than the terrace anyway.

She took her time reading through the menu card, and when the really young waitress arrived, she asked for a grilled cheese sandwich with fries and a Cheerwine for old time's sake. She pulled the sketchbook and the pencil out of her purse and decided to be productive. She continued her sketches about the cruise collection she was designing for her store. Lydia was already neck deep in designing and planning the accessories, so Stella decided to follow the lead of her friend and follow the vibes of the already half ready accessories with the clothes she was designing.

"Quite the picture!"

Stella's whole body shook. Her head shot up towards the person who appeared next to her table, as quietly as a ghost. Vince was standing there with a polite smile on his thin lips.

"Oh...hello." Stella's sigh was full of relief.

Stella closed the sketchbook.

"Do you...mind if i sit with you until my order is ready to go?" Vince asked.

"Be my guest!" Stella smiled kindly and watched as Vince sat down.

The last time she met Vince, she didn't really look at him. She was too stressed to pay attention to anything besides the foreboding thoughts in her head. Now that she was looking at him, he seemed off. Old and tired. And also like someone who lost a lot of weight and his muscles went along with it. And yet, he still had the bone structure and build of a smaller tank.

"How are you doing?" Stella didn't even notice, but she already asked.

"I am well." Vince's brows stretched upward in a short grimace.

Stella knew he lied, but she took the hint and didn't inquire further.

"I just...came to pick up lunch for Benny at the garage." He added.

Vince noticed the glint in her eyes when he mentioned Benny. His thin lips twitched. He couldn't ignore the fact that Benny reacted the same way each time her name was mentioned. Part of him was amused by the obvious and deep love that was still going on between them, but another part of him was confused as to why they haven't even tried to mend things between themselves, if they were obviously still in love with one another. But a really small part of him understood Stella.

She was a beautiful, young college girl who was always kept on tight leash by the man who raised her. She was told and met a lot of no's. It wasn't really surprising for Vince that she was instantly attracted to Benny, and it didn't take long for her to fall in love with him either. He probably represented the freedom for her, that she never got to experience.

Vince knew Stella's mother when he was younger and also was she. She had an on and off fling with Johnny throughout the years. Except Rebecca always knew what she wanted out of her life. To keep her farm, her horses. To have a family, a husband, a quiet life. Except a part of her also wanted excitement, freedom, passion. That attracted her to Johnny and kept her interested in him for quite a while, even after she got the life she had wanted. It seemed like a curse was hereditary amongst the Hawkins women.

"He works at your garage?" Stella asked, clearing her throat.

"Of course he is. I'm not letting a good mechanic sleep until noon."

Stella's smile was light and barely visible. She herself was aware of Benny's tendency to sleep in, but she also had knowledge of the why. And also the fact that he could be up all night and dawn, going into the next day without any sleep at all. Or be asleep at eight p.m already on a Saturday night. His mind would not let him sleep a lot of times. He had various ways to deal with it. Stella witnessed quite a few of those. Just as she witnessed his mechanical skills. He was always good with his hands. In many ways.

"How is he?" Stella asked quietly and she almost felt haunted by him, even though she was just talking about him with someone else. Benny's influence on her known no distance, limits or boundaries.

"He is doing good." Vince cleared his throat as much as he could. "He changed quite a bit. I'm proud of him! He shows up every day and he is the last one out of all of us to go home. He drinks even less than he used to." Vince added.

Stella never knew Benny as someone who heavily drinks. But she saw the rest of the club members getting so low, that they couldn't even find the door. Benny never had more than a beer or a glass of whiskey, either bourbon or scotch. When she asked how come he doesn't drink as much as his friends, he said – if he drinks too much, his mind is not clear enough to ride his bike whenever he feels like. Alcohol was never his choice to deal with whatever he had to deal with at any given moment.

Stella has silently succumbed to her own fear and anxiety.

"Will he be...okay?" Her voice was thick with worry.

Vince felt the same as she did.

"I think...he will be. He is a strong boy!"

Vince's voice was harsh and croaky from the pain in his chest and back.

Stella noticed a thin layer of sweat on Vince's forehead, but he wiped it away.

They sat quietly for a minute.

Stella's fingers tapped lightly on her closed sketchbook.

"Do you...mind if i look at it?" Vince asked, gently looking at the notebook.

Stella was nervous, but she didn't know how to say no.

"Sure." She slid the sketchbook through the table toward him.

Vince slowly and carefully flipped through the pages. Taking note of every little shape, color, and detail. He saw clothing pieces drawn in a very detailed manner, colored and here and there were texts explaining certain details in words he had no understanding of. Wonderful dresses were created on paper and then colored. Some pages had magazine cutouts or a photo pinned to them.

"It is...these are really pretty." Vince cleared his throat and fought with all of his willpower to keep the cough where it was born. Ever since he woke up today, he felt the chest pain make itself apparent in his back and shoulders as well. "You always had a keen eye for pretty things...an ability to see beauty." Vince took a long, last look at the last filled page.

Stella hasn't reacted. She never learned how to receive compliments. And it was her father's way to give her a compliment, right before going in with a jugular, in the best-case scenario with a humiliating insult, in worst cases with an actual hit.

"And this is just a hobby or you do something with these?" Vince asked in a rough voice and cleared his throat, which was followed by a rather ugly cough.

"I...i opened a store in the city. With a friend. I design the clothes, and sometimes shoes, bags. My friend does the jewelry and also shoes and bags." Stella spoke quietly, without any intention to brag. She almost was lacking even proudness.

"And it's going as you want it to?" Vince asked with sincere curiosity.

"It's going well. It pays us. There is a little plus as well." Stella said. "But what is with you? Don't take it the wrong way...but you don't look well. And the cough...it doesn't sound good." Stella's voice and face were genuinely concerned.

Vince shook his head. "It's nothing."

Stella saw through the lie. She hasn't seen her mother's health significantly decline before she passed away. It was a fastly approaching, sudden accumulation of the violent cancer that had spread, eating itself through her ovaries and moving into her other organs as well, eventually killing her. One night she was still there, in the morning she wasn't. The doctors gave them a folder full of papers that contained information about the particular cancer she suffered from. Stella found it somewhere around the house and read through it.

Later in life, she also read quite a lot about the disease out of curiosity. Weight loss was a very common symptom of many types of cancer. The body is desperately trying to feed its cells, including the greedy, corrupt cancerous cells that demand much more than they really should. If not this, then the chemotherapy drugs cause nausea and vomiting, loss of appetite, which is not good when a war is going on inside the body that needs every ounce of energy to fight to win it.

Stella, as an adult came to the conclusion that cancer is very typically human disease - stupid as shit. Viruses evolve themselves but never try to intentionally kill their host, they just want to spread. Parasites harm the body that they feed upon, but never eat as much, to kill them. Cancer just spreads, demands, eats and takes until there is nothing left, and then by this behaviour, it invites it's own destruction as well. Because of it's greed.

Stella didn't understand a lot of it, but still, to this day, she couldn't figure out why her mother never wanted to try and fight it. If not for herself, for her and Carly. To be able to spend more time with them. Even if just a few months more. As an adult, she accepted that it was her body and life, so it was her decision. But the traumatized child in her felt disappointed and sad about it.

Stella glanced down on her own, black painted nails on the ligh blue cover of her sketchbook. The light blue color always reminded her of Benny's soulful, sky blue eyes. "You guys figured it out yet, who tried to get rid of him at the club?" Stella's voice volume was careful but curious.

"What makes you think it was someone from the club?"

Vince didn't know how much Benny had told Stella. He only had awareness of the fact, that Stella was the one who found the drugs and she only told about them to Benny. But it wouldn't surprise him if she figured out this small, but significant detail all by herself. She always was really perceptive and intelligent.

"Who else would've tried such a thing?" Stella scoffed sarcastically.

The waitress arrived with her order, but all of a sudden she lost all appetite, but she took a sip off the soda though. The taste awakened a simple, pleasant memory from her childhood and teenage years.

"Benny is a good kid at heart...but we all know he has an attitude..."

Stella scoffed again. "Tell me about it!" She murmured with a little smile.

A small and silent laugh shook Vince and then a long cough as well.

He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief.

"That attitude can piss off a lot of people. Also, before you came along, he pissed off a lot of people. Other club members who's asses he handed to them. And there are the brothers, boyfriend and husbands." Vince said.

Stella felt the sweet cherry taste grow bitter on her tongue.

"My point is, there are many people who would want him gone." Vince said.

"Uh-hum." Stella's hum was quiet but it was full of sarcasm. "If those people really wanted him gone, they would have waited to get him alone somewhere and beat him to a pulp, or..." Stella didn't felt the need to continue with examples, and she wasn't even sure that she could. "My point is, i'm not sure that many of them knew about...us, and neither where i've lived and neither about the fact, where he headed and will be that night. Only a club member would've known and even that person should have been keeping a close eye on Benny to be at the right place and the right time for their scheme to work." Stella said with a plain face, in sharp contrast to the speed and frustrated way she kept spinning her pencil on the table.

Vince could not argue, nor he wanted to.

"Why do you think someone would do such a thing?" Vince scratched his jaw.

Stella remained quiet as she thought the question through.

"Benny was always the heart of that club. I mean...i don't know about before he became a member, but in recent times, surely. Johnny always valued his opinion and he thought greatly of him, otherwise he wouldn't have asked him to lead the club after he feels like he can't do that anymore. You and him were always close. Who was there for anyone who got stranded on the side of the road, when someone needed to be taken to the hospital, when some punches were needed to be thrown?!" Stella didn't expected an answer. "Someone could be jealous of his place within the club...maybe tried to make him go away, so they could take it."

Vince was genuinely surprised.

"Benny told you about Johnny asking him?"

"Yes, he told me."

Vince nodded silently with a clear gaze. He was aware of how much Stella meant to Benny, but he never could've guessed the depth of his feelings. Surely, as soon as Stella first walked into the Pit, Benny never had eyes for any other girl or woman. His eyes always studied, stalked, and adored Stella. If she had left the table, to go to the ladies room, Benny never stopped watching the door until she came out. If she was started to feel cold out of tiredness, he would give his jacket to her. The very jacket that had all the color on it, which he would be rather kmurdered in, than to take it off willingly.

"You were always a mystery to everyone." Vince added quietly and glanced aside from her. His mind went to unusual places. Only a few seconds have passed since she walked into the Pit for the first time ever, and everyone instantly noticed her. How they couldn't? She was the prettiest girl that ever walked into that wretched place in a really long time. How could have, out of all people, Benny avoid noticing her?!

Vince still remembered every single, small detail of that night, because it was significant for many reasons, and not just for future ones. The girl glanced around and probably felt as all the attention was directed towards her, but after a quick second she seemed completely unbothered by everyone, and walked to the bar, asking Neil to use the phone because her car broke down a few miles back, and her cell phone died on her.

She never even sat down. She didn't even got the phone in her hand, when Johnny walked over to the bar and took it from Neil's hand. Vince never heard, never tried to guess, nor did he ever asked what Johnny said to her within those few minutes when he was talking to her. Then Johnny summoned Benny and with him at his side walked her back to her car. She didn't came back at the bar that night. But she showed up a few days later on Benny's side. No one had to guess who she wanted to be with. But everyone was wondering what was she doing in a place like the Pit.

The pain in Vince's chest and back started to worsen. His shoulder's started to pulsate to the rhythm of his heartbeats. He felt the shortness of breath, the nausea and the lightheadedness. Only now he wasn't doing anything physically demanding. He was simply sitting. He didn't find any more strength in himself, than to simply turn sideways, before his stomach sent back its contents along with vibrant red blood.

Stella jumped in her seat. Within a few seconds, her feelings had spun from worry, anxiety to becoming speechles out of fear. She could only see as Vince's stomach made another attempt to get rid of what has been ailing it, but blood kept coming with it. The quantity of it made Stella's heart pound as if she were running, but she was glued to her seat by the shock of the reality changing so fast around her. "Somebody call an ambulance right now! Please!" She turned her head towards the diner's staff. Her voice was brittle. Her eyes were pleading.

*

Stella felt disgust, fear, anxiety, and a little bit of nausea. The smell of heavy, sanitizing chemicals and sickness was thick in the air. She hated hospitals. She spent enough time in them for a lifetime. Also, she felt pain in her feet. Her black heels weren't made for the day she turned out to be having. But the pain was useful in a way. She was able to direct her attention towards it and the awful smell of her surroundings, instead of succumbing to her panic and anxiety.

She followed the ambulance from the diner to the hospital and watched as the paramedics and nurses took Vince to a room. Nurses were running in and out of it in a hurry with medications and liquid bags in their hands. Two doctors also visited his room with fast approaching steps. They were in for a while and then simply asked her if she was a close relative to him, and when her answer was no, they simply left her without a word or an answer.

She was pacing up and down in front of the room Vince was in, in who knows what kind of condition, and a thought just hit her right in the center of her brain. Why hasn't she went to Vince's garage yet, to get Benny? He should've known about this by now! Maybe the doctors will give answers to him!

She turned around in her step and she froze immediately, when she spotted Benny at the end of the seemingly endless, bright hallway. He was running, and with his tall legs he was there faster than Stella anticipated. He seemed slightly surprised and very much terrified.

"H...how is he?!" He asked a little bit out of breath and with a lot of fear in his voice.

"I don't know." Stella said gently. "Two doctors were in for a while. When they came out they asked if i am a close relative and then they left." A relieved sigh escaped out of Stella. She felt her anxiety becoming thinner, weaker as she stood next to Benny. She glanced down at his hands. They were still covered in grime and oil. So were his t-shirt.

"Brucie called me. He said Vince signed him as his emergency contact, but he couldn't leave the work he had." Benny said and his breathing had already returned to normal. "But how did you ended up here?!"

"I was at the diner and so was he. He sat down, we talked a little and then all of the sudden, he started vomiting...blood too, and then he just collapsed out of his seat and...i followed the ambulance." Stella still wasn't sure herself, what was she still doing here. Other than making sure that Vince is okay, which was already half assured when the paramedics arrived at the diner.

Benny looked around in the hallway before with a fast and light movement went inside Vince's room. Stella remained on the hallway, indecisive. Her anxiety and nervousness kept urging her to leave. Benny was already here for Vince, and Brucie and the rest of the bikers probably will turn up very soon.

She has to get back to the town hall before it closes for today.

The door of the room opened and Benny sneaked out of it nonchalantly, and without shame or worry of being caught. Stella wasn't really surprised, that even in a hospital, Benny didn't give a shit about the rules. "He is asleep or unconscious, i don't really know. There is a lot of bags hooked onto him." He said quietly and swept through his hair with his fingers.

Stella nodded as a mute. She couldn't overlook the fear in his eyes and she understood the meaning behind it. Vince was Benny's father in every way except biologically. Benny told him that his mother died when he was a little kid and his father started drinking after that. He never knew what to do with a kid aside from keeping it alive, fed and clothed. They were just a lost in life adult and a young boy living under the same roof. This knowledge helped Stella understand Benny's withdrawn and emotionless approach towards people in his life. He never learned how to connect. Not in ways that people usually did anyway.

"Vince has...some kind of cancer?" Stella asked carefully.

"He said lung cancer." Benny sank onto one of the chairs.

Stella didn't know what to say. In her peripheral vision, she spot the leather clad figures at the end of the hallway. She hooked her black handbags handles onto her forearm. "Here is the club." She said sorrowful. "I have to go!" Stella said straightening her back and adjusting her feet in her heels as Johnny and all the man approached closer and closer.

"Stella..." Benny jumped up from his seat when Stella started walking.

"Give my best to Vince." She said softly and kept walking through the swarm of bikers that were approaching, never stopping for a step, not once looking up at their eye level, not even trying to look back at Benny.

Her anxiety urged her to leave and to concentrate on her task.

Whatever happens.

[minamartin]

I love them for Daemon’s weirwood vision holy shit he was lured from his bed to stand in front of the old gods, who judged him as a kinslayer and sentenced him to death. The consequences beating at his door and unable to be held back by a sword!!!

[minamartin]

Alys Rivers and Daemon Targaryen House of the Dragon - 2.03 "The Burning Mill"

[minamartin]

Whispers of Violence - Chapter 3 : Slow Learner

Benny woke up to pain. His body instinctively shot up to a sitting position and with one balled up fist. Sweat shined on his forearm. He glanced at where the light was coming from. The lamp on the nightstand. Although the colors of the rising sun were already painting the walls of his bedroom. He felt sweat dripping from his forehead to his face, stinging his eyes. He stood up and opened the window closest to him. He stepped back to the nightstand where his pack of cigarettes were and slipped on the wet floor. His own sweat covered a big spot on the wooden floorboards. He lit up a cigarette and sat into the window, letting the morning air dry and calm him a little.

The vivid nightmare shook him to his bones. He registered that there is no real pain, except the one that already had gone away long time ago, but he could still feel it years later. Those three fuckers surprised him well. There were very few fights in his life, where Benny felt himself getting closer to death than he wanted to. First two minutes into that fight and he had already arrived there. This fight was a painful lesson of all the mistakes, that he will never make, ever again. After two long weeks on the health ward hooked onto fluid bags and strong painkillers, he had a lot of time to wise up in a relative and temporary safety.

It was not just the way that the fight had gone down that was alarming to him, but a throwaway sentence, that he had trouble making sense of even now – you're such a fuckup, even your own club wants to off you! What the fuck that was supposed to mean? He got the gist of it, but not the weight behind it. Now, looking back, it isn't so fucking complicated. Someone from the club blew the whistle and wanted those three clowns to take care of him inside. Well...they failed. Barely, but they did.

He watched the scenery from his window. Listened to the chirping of the awakening birds as his sweat dried onto his back. He stumped the cigarette and blow the last of the smoke out the window before closing it. He glanced at his bed that he climbed out of a few hours ago and found his place on the hard floor. He never once was able to sleep in his own bed in the few days he was free again. He constantly found himself gravitating towards the floor and falling asleep there.

He got rid of his underwear and went to take a shower. An idea was itcing inside his mind. Walking back to the bedroom, drying himself with his towel, he glanced at the clock on his nightstand. 7:40 am. No human is up at this hour on a saturday. He decided to sit and walk round the small house until eight. Then he sat in his truck and drove down to the grocery store. He picked up a few stuff that would make a decent breakfast and headed towards Vince's house. When he arrived, it was already 8:30 am.

He nervously knocked and waited. The cough getting louder signaled to him that Vince is coming. When he opened the door, he looked genuinely surprised. "How are you up before noon on a saturday?" He asked with furrowed brow.

"I couldn't sleep. I thought i bring you...breakfast." Benny lifted the bag.

"Breakfast?" Vince sensed that something was off. "Come on in!"

Benny stepped in and realized how much time passed since the last time he was here. Vince was always mostly clean and organized. The scent of a dog was apparent, so Benny kept his eyes on floor level for the old Rottweiler, Sully.

Benny swallowed thickly as they arrived to the kitchen. Now that he was here and full of questions, he felt guilt and anxiety about it. Vince was one of the oldest member in the club alongside Johnny, Brucie and Mel. Benny felt like even just asking questions would be an insult to Vince's integrity, but he preferred to think that he knew him better than that.

Vince took the bag full of groceries.

"Im assuming cooking isn't a skill that you picked up inside?!" He said half joking, half serious.

"No, i didn't." Benny admitted it and sank into one of the dining chairs.

Benny heard hoarse, non-human breathing. "Sully!" Benny sank onto his knees with a wide smile on his face and the dog came with all of his enthusiasm and love. Benny couldn't decide where to scratch the happy dog. "How are you old man?" Benny asked while the dog licked him and bit his hand with a playful intent.

"Better than me! Thankfully." Vince said mixing eggs with a fork.

Benny smiled at the dog and sit back on his chair, while Sully stood on his hindlegs so he could keep his front paws on Bennys thigh. His claws slightly pressed through the jeans, onto Benny's flesh.

"What wake you up?" Vince glanced at Benny and started the coffee machine.

"Just a few things i remembered." Benny felt like the blade was in his lower back again. "Things i couldn't put together." He said quietly and gazed off towards the coffee machine, where the brown liquid slowly started to drip into the pot and the smell of coffee started to fill the air.

"Such as..." Vince said patiently.

"Three dudes cornered me a few months after i was in. One of them had a Ghoul tattoo on his arm, so i would assume they were from there." Benny knew Vince knew who he was talking about.

The Ghouls were a biker club not far from their little town. They used to have regular brawls with them, when they came into town looking for trouble. They remained relevant from dealing drugs, running small brothels out of farm houses and they did not steer away from killing either.

"He said im such a fuckup, that even my own club wants to get rid of me." Benny said scratching his scalp behind his right ear. "I guess he was sure he will finish the job he got, otherwise he wouldn't have said this out loud." Benny shrugged his shoulders.

Vince turned around while the oil in the pan started to heat up. The longer he stared at Benny, the harder it was for him to overlook the disappointment in Benny's eyes. He couldn't help but feel for the kid. He met him when he was just fourteen years old. He somehow always found him around everywhere the club went. He was so interested in the bikes and the sounds they made. As he got older and more rebellious as the teenage years arrived, this interest haven't faded, only got stronger. He was only eighteen when he got accepted as their youngest member ever. He got the color and all.

Vince roughly chopped up an onion and poured onto the hot oil and started to move it around the pan.

Benny was undoubtedly the most loyal person in this club, loyal to the club. It was never a question whether or not he wants to be there. If someone was fighting, Benny would be there fighting alongside them. If someone needed help with their bike breaking down on the side of the road, or someone got injured, Benny would never try to shimmy away from lending a helping hand. The fact that this happened with him, someone from the club that he was loyal to, trying to get rid of him, in fact signaled Vince that the club is no longer as it used to be. He felt it in his bones for a while, but he tried to brush it off as the changing of times. But something like this, it was as loud and clear as a siren.

"The Ghouls." Vince said with a bitter taste in his mouth. "We haven't had a run in with them for a while. Johnny and their leader Burt made a deal to not bother each other anymore. They drew the border where they both agreed on and ever since we had no fights with them at all." Vince said and added the mixed eggs to the onion.

"Since when Johnny makes deals with other clubs?" Benny scoffed.

"Since he is getting tired and old." Vince sighed glancing at Benny. "Not all of us are still young and pretty, kid! We had been around those blocks many times and we are getting tired and older. Johnny made a deal with them, so he doesn't have to deal with them anymore at all. Sometimes you have to hurt a little, so you will not hurt a lot more later. We voted againts the heroine, the coke, all that shit. Nobody wants to go to jail for that useless stuff, so they made a deal that they don't sell or store their shit in our town, and we don't pass through their town at all. We go around."

"So the whole drug deal is over?" Benny asked and glanced at Sully who walked over to his water bowl and started to lap out of it loudly.

"Yeah. It came to place..." Vince had to think a little. "A few weeks, a month maybe after you went in. Im not sure on the exact date, but it was around that time." He said and a wild cough attacked him.

Vince poured coffe into two mugs and put one in front of Benny. The smell of the hot coffee not made him more awake, but made him realize how tired he is. Vince put half of the scrambledd eggs onto a plate, and washed some cherry tomatoes and spinach leafs and added it to the side of both plates. The forks he had put down onto the table made a clanking sound.

"So you think someone from the club tried to off you?" Vince asked plainly.

Benny scoffed and his face told it all. "Im not a rocket scientist, but even im aware that it was loud and fucking clear!" He said in a really pissed off tone.

"Okay, okay." Vince nodded try to calm him down. "Let's figure this out!"

*

Stella stared at the car standing next to the cab that she was sitting in at the red light. Her pale pink nails were scratching the fabric of her white sweatpants. She glanced down at her white, silk cami top, her baby blue Adidas sneakers and her baby blue bag beside her on the seat. Her nails were clashing with her worn colors. They served as a reminder to what she was doing just ten minutes ago, back at the apartment.

Packing a light suitcase, getting ready to fly to Palm Springs to attend a wedding at Sebastian's side. The female guests were required to wear only certain colors. Shades of pink or nude and black. Just as the men were required to wear shades of neutrals or black.

Her anxiety grew stronger with every minute that the cab was not moving towards it's destination. She hated to take the role of a passenger. Her Porsche was in the salon for the weekend. The flat tire served as a wake up call to her. A simple check made by the brand service's professionals, would not harm her car. Just her wallet a little.

She could not point her finger which thought pattern got broken into half, when the sudden urge to vent all her feelings out on her sister, overtook her like an avalanche. And she found herself on the backseat of a cab on a saturday. After her emotionally overwhelming day yesterday, she couldn't even fall asleep. All she could think about was to question her sister all of her lies that she told her. Ever. And if she ever told anything true to her?!

The sun was burning her right side as the cab started moving again.

She always categorized her own feelings towards her sister as complicated. She never really was close to her. Even when they were little, they were completely different kids. Carly loved going out with her own group of friends, Stella never really had any friends herself. Carly hated the horses and was always afraid of them, Stella felt safe and home amongst them. Carly was an avarage student but very popular in the school, where she was a straight A student, but nobody ever paid any interest to her. She was the quiet kid who no one ever had any trouble with.

After their mother had died, it did not take Carly a lot of time to decide to get away from home with her then boyfriend. She left her behind with their father. She never visited, never tried to write a letter or to even sneak in a call. Only a few times she tried to get in contact during her time in college – birthdays and christmas. She never even invited Stella to her wedding. If she wasn't the emergency contact in Stella's papers, she probably would not even showed up in the hospital that night.

Stella did not idolized her relationship with her sister, but she hoped that at the very least, the girl who was always famous about not holding back anything she had to say, will be honest with her. The joke was on her.

"We're here." Said the cab driver, stopping by the sidewalk of the house.

"Please wait for me here. It won't be more than 10 minutes." Stella said.

"It's your money young lady." The cab driver left it up to her as she got out.

Stella throw her handbags shoulder strap over her back and clutched at the gift bag's handle. She felt her self control thinning out, and she haven't even ranged the bell yet. She glanced down at the gift bag and reminded herself, that there is a child in this house. Her own niece.

She took a deep breath, ringed the bell and waited.

"Hi!" Stella saw how surprised her sister is to see her when she opened the door. "Come on in!" She was inviting nonetheless. "I have the lunch on the stove!" She said in a hurried voice and rushed back into the house.

Stella closed the door behind herself, and despite always taking off her shoes, now she didn't felt the need. She walked slowly. Trying to mold the things she wanted to say into a form of a polite or at least a civilized conversation.

"Stella!" Violet jumped up from where she was playing with her Ragdoll cat, Annabelle. Stella hated this cat. She peed in her shoes, scratched up her whole forearm several times and hissed at her regularly. And just as any cat, after the damage was done, it curled up into a ball of fur in her lap and demanded gentle caresses. Stella usually maintained her distance from that thing as best as she could the few times she had been in this house.

Violet tightly hugged her legs.

"Hi." Stella smiled down at her and lightly rubbed her back. "I brought you some stuff. They were collecting into a pile for a few weeks now, so..." Stella put down the bag that had an unicorn on it, that jumped over a rainbow. As best as her sister kept her informed, her niece was in the unicorn and mermaid phase. Her little hands grasped onto the ears of the bag, brushing past Stellas fingers.

"Wow! It's hard." She tried to lift it from Stella's hand.

"Heavy. Not hard!" Carly corrected her daughter.

"Heavy. What's in it?" She asked with curious eyes.

"Look in it yourself." Stella winked at her with an honest smile.

Violet smiled and struggled to lift the bag, so she went with dragging it on the floor into the dining room where a few toys were on the ground, along with the cat that eyed her with her usual feral and mean gaze.

"Oh, marshmallows. Unicorn marshmallows." Violet was ready to open it up.

Carly ran over to her daughter and quickly pulled the bag full of sweets out of her daughters hands, who was ready to fight her mother for the sweets. "Auntie brought it to meee!" Violet was getting loud, but her mother was the stronger and got the bag before it could rip open.

"And i won't eat it!" Said Carly firmly, walking back to the kitchen and putting into one of the top cabinets. "For three days she is not willing to eat anything else but cereal, waffles and ice cream." Carly glanced at her sister from the stove where she stirred something in a pot with a whisk. "But what's up with you? What kind of lightning hit you, that you came over willingly and i didn't had to beg?!"

Stella decided to let that statement slide. Carly really did called her often ever since she recovered from that night and rented her own apartment, and then throughout her time living with Sebastian too, but she always had the feeling she only does it out of politeness and the sincerity behind the invite isn't actually there.

"The realtor called me on thursday. Yesterday i went there to sign the papers."

Stella figured that the fastest way out is through. The second Carly's movements stiffened and her body froze up, she knew she struck a nerve. "I also ran into Robert and Julia. They had some interesting things to say." Stella continued on a calm and patient tone. She hoped that Carly will fess up to her lies if she gives her that chance.

"Just out of curiosity, did you ever planned on telling me the truth? About how and when dad really died? About Benny? Did you ever told me the truth about anything at all?" The last sentence of Stella was more of an accusation than a question.

"Oh, for the love of..." Carly's hands rose up beside her hips "No. It haven't even occured to me to tell you the truth about dad, about that night, and neither about that biker. And you know why? Because i care about you and i want the best for you, and whether you believe it or not, you knowing the truth is not the best thing in these cases!"

A loud scoff escaped Stella's throat.

"So...you trying to tell me, that you lied to me about these things because im such a pathetic, miserable person that i can't take the truth?! Hm?!" The indignation in her voice was overwhelming, but not loud as she was aware of the little kid a few meters away from their argument.

"I don't say that, don't twist my words! Im trying to say, that i decided not to tell you, because you had to deal with a lot all at once." Carly said insecure and turned back towards the stove, whisking the content of the pot harder and faster than before.

"Im pretty sure a few sentences would not have added anything to that!"

"Oh, so you sure, 'kay!" Said Carly in a dismissive tone. "So what you trying to tell me, is that only reason that you're here, that upset as you are, is because i lied to you about how that sack of shit died, and not because you found out who did it and then what happened to him because of it?!

Stella felt like a deer caught in headlights and swallowed thickly.

"You see?!" Carly furrowed her brows with a hint of judgement in her eyes, that really bothered Stella... "You really shouldn't have upset yourself because of him. He would have ended up in jail anyway for some type of bullshit. At least for once in his life, he did something good for this world!" But not nearly as much, as the sentences that came next.

"How dare you?!" A deep and furious yell erupted from Stella. Fury and sadness overtook her, and even a child present wasn't a deterring factor, because the dam was cracking. "How can you say such things? How can you devaluate someone's life who you never even bothered to meet?!" Stella's voice got lower and lighter as the sadness grow larger as she thought of Benny. "You don't know him!"

"Why should've i met him, Stella? What for? You thought..." A scoff turned into a laugh as Carly started to speak and she was genuinely amused by the situation whereas Stella felt utterly miserable. "You thought there was gonna be a future for you and a biker guy who never took any kind of commitment in his life, not even as something simple as a fucking job?! You thought you gonna have kids and a house and a life you wanted? Because then im sorry to tell you little one, but that was never going to happen. He would have flown off of his stupid bike onto a car's windshield, became an alcohol or a drug addict, or ended up in jail like most of these guys. And we talking about these things becoming your problem, if we even being generous, and assume he would be faithful to you and not cheat on you the first chance he has."

Stella felt like crying, but her dignity wouldn't allow it. As her sisters words echoed in her mind, she only could feel sadness. Sadness that even though she always kept her sister at arms length with her trust and most intimate and insecure thoughts, she hoped that she would be proven wrong. But she wasn't. She was right to never open up to her sister.

Stella felt like she stepped into solidifying concrete.

Unable to move.

Carly pulled the pot off the stove and put it onto a wooden cutting board.

She walked over to her sister.

"You never should have even begin with him! You and him, were completely different worlds! When you mentioned him to me after you came out of it...i thought you were joking!" Carly took a sharp breath in. "All of the sudden when you were telling and asking about him...i felt like i had fucking flashbacks from my..." Carly bit her lower lip and closed her eyes towards the ceiling. "You had no idea how much danger you put yourself out to when you were with him. In every sense of the word! Did you seriously thought that he's not gonna have something to say...or do about you and a biker?" Stella knew Carly was talking about their father.

"I didn't came here...to talk about Benny. Me coming here was about you, and me, and only partially about Benny! It was about me, putting my trust in you because you were the only one i had left to do so! And now..." Stella raised her arms into the air with a directionless gaze onto the terrace, then turned around. Tiredness took over her body as she quietly walked out of the house. She just felt so tired. Her whole body felt ten times heavier than it ever did, in the same exact moment when she would hope for some relief.

*

Benny sat up on one of the stools againts the wall. He opened his pack of cigarettes and shoved one between his lips. He glanced at Vince who was sitting at the bar with a book and a glass of whiskey. Having a wild night. Benny's lips curled up into an easy smile. Johnny was sitting at his usual table with Brucie and Cal. Brucie's girlfriend Gail and half a dozen women occupied two tables that they pushed together and sat all around it. The bar was full of dudes, but those women were the loudest noise in the busy bar. A few younger girls were sitting in the corner. Some of them were throwing darts. Some of them were constantly eyeing him and sending a smile towards him every now and then. He was not interested.

He spent the entire day getting his things in order. Buying a few new clothes, getting some food in his fridge, fixing a few stuff around the house, giving a good wash to most of his stuff, including his sheets. He did a shitty job, as usual. Stella was the one who made everything smell so nice. Her scent always filled up the air, wherever she had gone. His bathroom, his kitchen, his truck. His bed. Even the bar itself. Everytime she used to be here, one could already tell when stepping into the bar, just taking a sniff of the air that usually smelled like sweat, blood, cigarettes and dust.

He had enough trouble on his mind, but the thoughts and memories of Stella kept running around his mind, occupying every inch of space in his thoughts. She wasn't here anymore with him, but she never really left him. He could still see her clearer than the people in front of his eyes in this bar.

"Well...i guess it's gonna go down between you and me!" Wahoo broke the silence around the pool table, where he won the round amongst the boys. Benny was ready to cash in that hundred, but before that he hoped for some answers more than that bill.

"So...Wahoo...you talked about some guys that got shot down?!" Benny said, talking around the cigarette between his lips, and set up the balls at the middle of the table.

"Oh...yeah." Wahoo scratched his forehead. Benny knew him even before he went inside. They were the same age. He had flat and boring jokes, but his stupidity and naive nature always made up for it in regards of funny stories. "They were new. Only been in the club for a month maybe. We're still... we were doing the coke stuff, so we put them to guard the warehouse. Next day when we count the packs, we're down two. It was rather obvious and the packs were found in one of their backyard. The stupid fucks stole it and buried in their goddamn garden! Can you believe it?!" Wahoo laughed and shoot the first ball.

"Yeah. I can." Benny said quietly.

Benny sort of learned that people are indeed that fucking stupid! Nothing new about that. But also, he believed that this way was too easy. It smelled like someone tried to frame two guys, who were at the right place at the right time for him.

"Who found the packs?" Benny asked circling the table for the right position.

"We did." Said Corky, blowing out the smoke of his cigarette on his nose.

"Who shot them?" Benny asked, standing into position with the billiard cue.

"Mel." Wahoo said focused on the table.

Benny bent down above the table. He froze into motionlessness. He glanced at the left corner of the bar. Mel was sitting there with a few of his buddies. They were playing cards. Thick cigar smoke surrounded them and their mood wasn't as easy and uplifted as the rest of the bar's guests. That alone told a lot to Benny, who shot the ball right into place with one swift motion. It was his turn again.

He found it unusual for Mel to not sit closer to Johnny, as he usually did. He always preferred sitting close to the fire and it's warmth. Also, he was the only one who didn't even walked over him for a hug or just even for a fucking hanshake when he got out and had his first free night in the bar.

Benny winced as a thought crossed his mind.

His shot the next ball into it's place.

Johnny preferred to take care of things himself, when extreme measures were needed. Who was there when Mel took down those two guys? Was there anyone? And those two guys really did took the two packs or someone just hid it at one of their house, to shift the blame and save his own ass. To not look suspicious he sends two guys to look around their house, so he is not the one who both finds the packs and shoots down the so called thieves. This way he doesn't look that suspicious.

Benny continued to shoot the balls, until all of them was in the right place.

"Sorry man. You owe me a hunded!" Benny sighed careless, looking at the empty table with nothing but the green fabric and the white ball on it. Something haven't made sense to him though. No one could do this alone. There had to be more than one person behind all of this. These little pieces – the stolen packs, the guys who got shot down, him being almost killed inside, the deal that Johnny struck with the Ghouls. Benny had a feeling that these things connect somehow.

"I owe more than that to you and many others, Ben. You and many others." Said Wahoo throwing the hundred on the pool table in twenty and ten dollar bills.

Benny sat back on the stool as he did before. He felt tempted to light another cigarette, but he controlled the urge. He started to spin a coaster under the tip of his finger. He was wearing the colors again. He rode his bike, again. But was he still one of them? After all, one of them tried to get rid of him, and he had a pretty good idea who, but he had no idea, why and who else was inon it. So far the only thing he knew for sure, is that Vince is the only person in this club, who he can trust without a doubt.

*

Stella barely felt the cab's air conditioner. She was born and raised in California, but she never once in her life was in Palm Springs before. If there was anything other than the fact, that there is nothing here except rocky desert and hotels with pools, the heat was definitely enough ro convince her, that she never wants to come visit again.

She glanced at Sebastian beside her. He was busy looking at the scenery behind the moving cab's window. Stella nervously opened her small, pink, suede clutch from Gucci. She was suddenly glad that she didn't returned it a few weeks ago, because she didn't had any kind of handheld bag for the dress that she bought only for this occassion.

The cab arrived to the luxurious resort which was reserved for the wedding that had not less than hundred guests. Sebastian paid the driver, got out and opened the door for Stella, which he always insisted on doing with every door. Stella thought it was a kind gesture but she always felt inferior to this kind of behaviour.

"You should have sprayed less of this perfume. It is very potent."

And then he said something like this, and Stella felt a little puzzled.

"I was afraid because of the heat i will stink of sweat." She said quietly.

"Nonsense! You always smell nice."

Stella usually felt at her wit's end with Sebastian. One minute he was making passive-agressive comments or form a not so endearing opinion and the next, he was making compliments like no one else. Confusion haven't even began to describe what she felt in regards to Sebastian sometimes. He was a gentleman out in public, and even the most nitpickiest eyes and ears could have not guessed how empty and emotionless, bland their relationship was. People were always convinced that they are a happy couple. Stella herself became good at pretending. That's all she ever did in her life. It came naturally to her with Sebastian as well. He asked to keep up appearances? She did.

"How do you know this man again?" Stella asked as he offered her his arm.

"I went to a 4th of July weekend gathering at the Hamptons a few years back, and we ended up having a conversation about architecture. I learned that it is his profession and we remained in touch. He sometimes comes to the restaurant when he is in town." Sebastian said as he walked in a pace, which Stella's pink Louboutin's allowed her on the uneven cobblestones.

Stella had no clue about architecture. It wasn't an art form that interested her, but regardless to that, she had eyes to see if something looked aesthetically pleasing. The resort seemed smaller than it looked from the outside. Fully white, short buildings with the wooden supporting beams sticking out at their roofs. The courtyard had a pretty fountain that was full of pink and champagne colored roses and their petals. The archways, the woodworks, the disorganized placement of the giant, red clay potteries at the courtyard reminded her of the pictures in one of Sebastian's books about Moroccan and Mexican architecture.

Stella remained half beside, half behind Sebastian and tried to remain silent as Sebastian carried sophisticated and deeper conversations with other guests. She smiled politely and formed an answer when they even asked her a question. They mingled with other guests, which Stella knew none of, but she was completely fine with that. Professors, writers, artists, and restaurant owners, other architects, even interior designers. Stella usually felt out of place amongst Sebastians friends and acquaintances, so the feeling was nothing new. The male ones usually heavily flirted with her, some of them wasn't even pretending that they're not, and Sebastian only interfered when his treshold of tolerance got overstepped by them.

She went through a mandatory dance with Sebastian, who insisted on doing what everyone else. Stella hated to dance, but regardless of that, she learned a few formal dance steps from Sebastian a while back. When she finally was able to sit down, she felt relieved. Christian Louboutin made artistically mesmerizing shoes, but they were hell on earth to walk in for an extended periods of time. She preferred other brands when it came to shoes, but she had no other pink heels than this piece. A freshly and fastly approaching migraine threatened her with consequences, so she picked up her water glass and started to work on making it disappear.

She started to feel herself zone out sitting still on her chair. Yesterday after arriving into town, Sebastian insisted on going to a late lunch in a restaurant called Elmer's. This was the first place where Stella saw a dish called Dutch Baby for the first time ever in person. She saw this on pictures before and was curious about how it would taste, but now that it was in front of her, she didn't find the appetite for it. She took three bites and Sebastian finished most of it. They went up on a thing called aerial tramway and got a good look of the vast desert that was surrounding them. At night they went to have dinner at a mediterranean restaurant that looked and tasted more mexican than mediterranean to Stella, but at least she was able to take a few pictures with her phone, because the interior of the place was really pretty.

Stella run her eyes through her surroundings. It was a really pretty place. Fairy lights were hang up everywhere. The music was on the tolerable side of being loud and the people around her were on the soberer side of wasted. She glanced at her plate. A few bites of the colorful salsa were a reminder of her failed attempts to eat. She unnoticeably shook her head and with a frown on her nose made the rest of her water disappear.

She nervously twisted her cocktail ring around her finger as she searched the crowd with her eyes, looking for Sebastian. Her eyes found him talking with a quite older gentleman with a handkierchief in his tuxedo's pocket. They seemed to have a really serious and deep conversation. For a second she contemplated walking over to him, and asking him if they could end their visit here tonight, but she did not had the heart. Just because she wasn't having a good time, it was no good enough reason to ruin his.

*

Stella haven't thought that the first thing she will do after arriving back to the city, is to go straight to Sephora – after a long shower -, but here was she. The heat of the sun in Palm Springs demanded and ate up all the sunscreen she had, so she had to replace it. Her usual problem was that she could spend hours wandering around the shelves of this store. She always loved looking for new products, especially new perfumes. Although, ever since she started to travel around Europe with Sebastian, she fell in love with the tiny little niche perfume stores that had all kinds of mesmerizing perfumes that she could not wait to get her hands on. This is how her perfume collection became as formidable in size as it was.

She started to looking at new make up removing products when she felt her phone buzzing in her bag. She was half curious, half annoyed as to why on earth the realtor would be possibly calling her again. "Stella Chamberlain." She picked up in a formal manner.

"Hi. Stella, it's me, Amber. Im sorry for calling you, but the new owners did not had your number and they were having some questions about the borders of the farm and about sewage pipes and they talked about some kind of well, or water supply pipe. Basically it had to do with them wanting to build barn and other kind of additional buildings for the horses."

Stella haven't got much information from this rambling.

"I was under the impression that my sister handed you all of the papers and legal documents that are needed for the selling of the farm." Stella smelled the shit from potentially upcoming problems she had to deal with. Even standing a few steps away from the perfume section...

"I received the floor plan and...a moment please." Stella heard clicking. "Yes, i got all the legal documents, the floor plan of the house, but she didn't bring papers regards to the farm and it's layout. For example i knew that originally there were stables and an arena as well, but that got torn down years before you put the farm up for sale, but i guess the blueprints or something are needed, because the current owners want to build additional stuff and they don't know where or how to start, or if new sewage pipes and water pipes needed to be put down instead of using the old ones that you had."

Stella closed her eyes for a long second and inhaled, forcing patience onto herself.

"I will look for the papers and get back to you as soon as i found something."

"Thank you, Stella. Im sorry for bothering you still." She said.

"No worries." Stella put down the phone.

Actually all she had was worries.

She paid for her make up removal, sunscreen, face mask, favorite moisturizer and shampoo, and hopped into her car. Giving up on hel self-care day, she drove out to the warehouse where she was renting a storage unit. It was mostly full of boxes, that she meant to go through but she never found time or if she found, she was not in the mood to do so. She started going through endless piles of boxes. One after the another, because Carly really had no care to even scratch a word onto the boxes, as of a guide to what exactly any given box contains.

"Just another fuck you, for me...personally." Stella mumbled under her breath.

She went through five boxes and a particularly big and heavy box had gotten into her hands. When she opened it up, she quickly realized that the box contains all of her trophies, medals and ribbons from the years she spent showjumping and going to eventing competitions. "You really did not fucking care!" Stella mumbled with bitterness in her voice when she thought of her sister.

She still was able to look at these objects and feel proudness, accomplishment and self worth. Because it was the result of all of her hard work. She was riding horses ever since she was seven. And she didn't stop until she was fourteen, fifteen. She worked hard, woke up early morning and went to bed late at night to make sure that the horses she rode were tended to. She never had her dinner before her horses did. She won eventing competitions with backyard bred horses that were deemed worthless, but she worked with them until they started to worth twenty five grand with the training behind them.

Her mother trained all three horses she rode throughout the years and all of them came close to worth more than one hundred thousand dollars after she kept winning on their backs again, and again. The clanking metal was a reminder for her, that at the very least she was good at one thing – horses. This fact alone got her through the worst days of her life. This was the only proof that she had for her own self worth. And here it was. In a fucking box. Put here by someone who hasn't even had a care to throw a few socks or bubble wrap around it.

She set the box aside in the far corner, and continued with the rest. She kept on looking through the boxes. The next one, and the next one after that. She found a relatively new photo envelope in one of them. She recognized her own handwriting in the date she wrote on the back of the envelope. She could not resist not opening it up, because she knew what was in it.

Memories found her in the form of dozens of photos. Photos she took on the summer she spent with Benny. Most of the pictures had Benny on them. Stella always loved taking pictures. Taking fleeting moments with feelings about them, and turning it into forever. Benny was still the handsomest guy she ever laid her eyes on, and there was quite a few who tried to get together with her. Every camera she picked up, whether her phone or her expensive digital one, seemed to amplify his handsomeness.

She flicked through the photos. She barely could recognize herself with Benny's jacket and color on her, turning her back to the camera and only the side of her face and her long hair was visible from behind as she was looking somewhere. She had no idea when Benny took this picture of her, but it was a nice one. But the best ones were about Benny. Her lips trembled, threatening her with crying. She shoved the photos back to the envelope and put it back into the box.

She had to focus on what she came here for!

It was few minutes short of five in the afternoon, when she found folders and folders of what she assumed the realtor and the couple needed. She left the trophies behind until she could figure out where she wanted to put them or how to pack them away with the dignity they deserved.

She went to make a copy of the papers, picked up her dinner in the form of a fast food cheeseburger menu and returned to the apartment, that Sebastian already left to go to work. She took a shower, changed clothes and sat down to work on her sketches for the upcoming resort collection. She worked until she couldn't sit in her chair anymore, then she went to bed with exhaustion conquering her.

*

Stella started to think of the town's gas station as a cursed place. As she walked out of the shop in her high heeled sandals, she recognized Vince, who pulled up beside her to get fuel. Stella remembered him as the guy who might as would have been Benny's father. He always cared about him, helped him, patched him up, gave him advice. He also taught Stella playing cards and the name of different ducks swimming on the town's small lake.

"Hi, Stella." He said politely with a small, friendly smile.

"Hi Vince. Nice to see you again." She said and she meant it.

Vince was truly a nice person.

"You too." Vince pulled out the filling pistol from his car and put it onto it's place. "Im sorry if im bothering you, but there is something i wanted to talk to you about. Do you have a few minutes? Like pulling over there with me?!" Vince extended his arm towards the parking spots beside the gas station.

Stella grew anxious but not nearly as much when she met Johnny.

"Of course." She said nodding.

They parked beside each other, and when Stella got out of her car, she spotted the Rottweiler on the front seat. Her smile instantly shot up. "Sully! Hey!" Her voice got softer and higher as she went to caress and scratch the teddy bear like dog's head and ears. "Oh my Goood, you're still so cute! If you dropped a pup to some pretty little lady Rottie, please tell me where it is, so that i can raise it!" Stella's voice was playful and high pitched as she scratched the old dog's ears with her long, still light pink painted nails, which he seemed to really enjoy and lean into her scratches.

"Im sorry, but he is too old and lazy to get into the mood anymore. So there are no pups. Or at least, not to my knowledge." Vince said, standing beside his own car and leaning onto it with his arms crossed at his chest.

Stella glanced at him and remembered that he wanted to talk to her.

"Listen..." Vince glanced down at his own shoes. "I know this is a sensitive subject to you and i don't mean to...intrude or hurt your feelings, but...i wanted to ask you about that particular night."

Stella sensed that he tried to be discreet.

"What of it?" To Sully's gratitude, Stella kept on with the scratches.

"Im interested if you recognized anything out of place, unusual, weird that night. Like a suspicious person, car, bike or anything that was out of the ordinary compared to other nights." Vince asked as Sully's satisfied panting was the only noise between them.

Stella was always good trying to anticipate people's thought process. This way she was able to evade a few fights and beatings from her father. She always listened carefully how people spoke to her, how they breathed, how they moved. She was also forced to learn to read a room and sense someone elses's mood. This was how she defended herself and evaded fights and confrontations that could have ended really badly for her.

"You're...trying to figure out who called the cops on Benny that night."

Vince's eyes shot up to Stella's. He always knew she was exceptionally smart and aware of her surroundings. It didn't surprised him much that she quickly read between the lines of his unsaid words.

"Yes." Vince nodded.

"Ever since i learned about...that, what happened to him..." Stella felt anxiety getting comfortable in her stomach everytime she thought or spoke of Benny. It was an awful feeling to associate with the person, who at one point in her life meant everything to her. "I thought about that too. I mean...after i was better, even then i couldn't figure out how i even got help. You know, like how the ambulance came, how i ended up in hospital?! I wasn't able to call them and my father certainly didn't called them! And no one else was there...i mean...until Benny came."

"I see." Vince nodded with an empathetic look.

As silence moved between them, Stella kept on scratching Sully's other ear.

"So nothing unusual happened? You met with no one on your way home or anything?" Vince tried again, desperately looking for a missing piece of the puzzle.

Stella stopped to think for a minute.

"Well..." She said with a disgusted and loathing frown on her face. "If anything was unusual, it was the naked blonde woman in Benny's house with him...but i don't think that's the type of event that you're referring to!" Stella truly felt disgusted as the memory of the naked woman painted itself back at her mind again.

"What blonde woman?" Vince asked with a furrowed brow.

"Ask Benny! Im sure he knows more about her than me." She said with a dry tone. She glanced at the dog that really enjoyed her touch and smiled at him. "Sorry buddy, but i gotta go!" Stella withdrew her hand and rubbed her fingers together to get rid of the fur that stuck to her hand. "Im sorry but...i really didn't noticed anything unusual. I just know that other than me, my father and apparently later Benny, no one else was in the house that night." Stella said, opening the door to her driver's seat.

"Stella!" Vince softly called after her and she half turned towards him. "When we're young...we do a lot of stuff that we don't think through. You know...we can get a little carried away, especially us, we, at the club. What im trying to say is...i went upstate to visit him once a month. You know, bringing him stuff he needed in there, being there that he has at least one person he can talk to. And there wasn't a single visit, where his first question wasn't about you!"

Stella's heart stuttered for a second.

She felt goosebumps covering her skin, all over her body.

"Whatever he did...to that...woman..." Vince felt uncomfortable talking about this. It was written all over his face and it was apparent in his voice. "He loved you. He still loves you!"

Stella swallowed the rock in her throat. How many times she imagined that to be real. Benny loving her. She wanted that. She would never ask anything else out of life, just Benny to truly love her. But she outgrew that kind of naivety. She became too damaged. She became distrustful, even of her own emotions, especially nowadays. She preferred to rely on logic instead of her emotions.

"He loves the club more than he would ever be capable of loving me. And i accepted that." She said with a sad smile. "Take care, Vince!" She said kindly as she got into her car and closed the door on herself, then drove away.

*

Vince slowly parked next to Benny's truck at the mechanic shop. He got out and saw Benny working under a lifted up car. Vince wasn't sure if he should mention his meeting with Stella to Benny or not, but it did not made sense keeping it a secret. He would probably got the news from someone else that she was in town.

"Isn't it your lunch time?" Vince asked checking his watch.

"Greg went home for lunch. Im not hungry." Benny said dismissively.

"Okay. Then i'll have my lunch alone, i guess. I brought burgers from the diner."

Benny relentlessly continued to work againts the rusted in screws with a few curse words under his breath. Concentrating on work helped him not to worry about his situation with the club and also helped keeping the thoughts of Stella away.

"I met your girl an hour or two ago." Vince said sitting down to the chair.

Benny stepped away from the car with the wrench in his hand.

"She's in town again. There was a bunch of papers in her bag on the passenger seat, so i assume she still has some stuff going on with selling the farm." Vince said putting down the paper bags onto the working table, full of tools Benny used to try to get the screws to loosen up.

"When was this?" Benny furrowed his brows.

"Around ten am. I met her at the gas station on my way to the doctor's office."

Vince never fall in love with anyone, so he found the face of someone who clearly is in love, change in matter of a second, when the person they are in love with gets mentioned, interesting.

"I asked her if she saw anything suspicious or unusual around the farm that night, but she said no. But she mentioned something unusual happening in your house though. Regarding a blonde." Vince added witha dry tone.

Benny glanced down at the wrench in his hand with shameful eyes. "I fucked that up." He admitted, murmuring under his breath. Every single part of that night still haunted him. The pain that lingered days after Stella told him that she needs to go back to college. The pain of the thought of her not being with him, but with someone else. Her not being here, but somewhere else. The abandonment he felt. The anger and sadness he felt. The meaningless, joyless sex which never even brought him release from under all of his frustrations.

The petty mindset of his simply was – she is not gonna leave me, im gonna leave her. Yet when she walked into his house that night and processed the scene she had walked into, Benny could see on her face that he broked her heart into pieces. Nice! - she said. That one fucking word echoed in his ears ever since and never left. Up until that moment the thought of trying to have another conversation with her about this, instead of stubbornly storming off on his bike, never even crossed his mind. The realization of how much he hurt her without even saying a word came many months later.

He always was a slow learner.

*

Stella felt her own thousand yard stare overtaking her. The conversation around her was an inaudible mess of echoes. She gazed towards the green field around the house. It was an inviting and peaceful scene. She didn't belonged here anymore, but she felt like she got transported back at her own past.

"Do you think you could find it?"

Stella's head took a rapid turn to the approaching voice of a woman.

"Hm?!" She smiled politely and furrowed her brows. "Im sorry?!"

"The pipes. Do you think you could, like pinpoint them around the farm? I mean, you remember where the barn and the buildings were?" The woman asked handing her a glass of water.

Stella glanced out the window.

"I mean...i would not trust your money on my childhood memories. I thought something in the papers i brought will be able to help you. I really don't have anything else regards to the...renovations of the farm. I was basically a child when my mother was still changing a few things around, renovating stuff and everything got tore down when i was around sixteen, seventeen. Even then i wasn't included in those stuff." Stella said taking a sip from the cold water.

She glanced at her phones screen which showed 19:45 pm. She arrived into town around ten am. She really had no idea how the day got so ahead of her. She really had no emotional bandwidth to deal with all of this. She had a store to run, clothes to design, business trips to plan and to deal with her own messed up personal life. She had no one to lend a helping hand, yet here she was in two strangers life drama, trying to solve something she had no fucking responsibility to do so.

"My lawyer said that if you have the legal papers to...you know, if your parents deceased there is a death certificate. If you have that you can requests old legal documents to be given out to you. If you're parents did renovations around, they surely needed to get some kind of legal paper work done which usually requires a lawyer. I mean even if they owned the land, the pipes and electricity work that needs to be done at this level, at this scale, requires some kind of lawyer to be involved."

The moment the man started to talk about lawyers, all of Stella's anxiety started to burn and spread at a rapid pace. She hated dealing with lawyers. Perhaps it was stemming from her childhood with her abusive, lawyer of a father. Perhaps just a financial standpoint.

Stella's ring clanked on the glass in her hand.

She took an unnoticed, but deep breath hrough her nose.

"I will look into it." She forced a smile.

"Thank you. It really would save as several hundreds if not thousands of dollars." Said the woman.

Stella smiled and handed over the glass to the women, murmuring a thanks.

"Oh, and you could leave your number for us. The realtor said that the deal is closed, so she has no business interferring between us so we should communicate with each other." The man said with a polite but unpleasant smile.

Stella forced another smile and scratched down her number to a paper.

As she walked back to her car, she was convinced that the universe is having a laugh. She droved slowly and carefully on the still not renovated road that lead to the house. As she drove, a thought occured to her. The last work her mother got done around the farm, was the renovation of the stables that once got heavily flooded. When she was out on a ride, during the renovation of the stables were still going on, the workers machines were beside the road and she had to make a far trip with her stallion, because he grew anxious and stressed out from the loud noises the machines were making.

She stepped on the brakes and her car came to a complete stop. She gazed out onto the tree line. She knew the wooden fence was several meters behind them. The wooden fence that seperated the road to the house from pasture where the horses used to run wild and graze. She slowly started to remember the conversation between her mother, the ranch hands and the workers. Something had to be done through and across the field, because the layout and elevation of the farm didn't allowed it to be done the easier way. The grass grew a little different size and color around that area that the workers did something on. It must have been some kind of water pipe, since electricity wasn't lead through that way, underground.

Ste turned off the engine but kept the lights on. She found the flashlight in the glove compartment, took the key out of the ignition and started her way amongst the trees. She herself didn't knew what she was looking for. She just wanted to give the owner something, so they get off her back.

She walked past the oak tree that used to be the exact place where Benny waited for him on the occasions he picked her up from the farm. She warned him to never to come further in the farm, because that corner was the last one where they could remain invisible to her father, who could've easily spot them in the distance from the house if they went further.

She walked further in until the outer wooden fence. Dry, sunburned dirt and dust got into her open front suede sandals and collected under her toes. She started to think that she really picked the worst outfit for this day. She directed the flashlight downwards, so she could see where and what she is stepping into. Everything was pale and light brown as the sun burned out every single drop of water from the soil. Except a few meters in front of her, under a tall poplar tree, a big, deep brown spot was visibly out of place.

She furrowed her brows and walked closer to the suspicious spot. Everywhere was a little bit of greenery from spots of grass. Except this spot. Someone was digging around here and not so long ago. Maybe a few days ago. She was no expert, but the dirt was bothered here and nowhere else, that was clearly visible even to her. She had no intentions starting dig through dirt with her Gianvito Rossi sandals.

Her knees cracked when she hovered down above the ground. She started using the the back end of the flashlight to move the upper layer of dirt and then directed the flashlight to the spot, to be able to see the results. She touched the surface of the soil. It was really soft and loose. She used her right hand to get deeper. Her fingertips reached something that was not dirt. Stella used her nails to carefully dig down and she lifted something out of the ground. It took her a second to realize what it was, and the second she did, her fingers instinctively dropped it.

A pack of drugs was it. Cocaine or heroine, she had no idea. But she had an idea as to what was so important and worthy, to be covered in several layers of plastic and to be branded with a little card, that had a hooded figure printed on it.

Fear and panic overtook her in the exact same moment, when the realization hit her, that this stuff is usually guarded, because it's worth hundreds of thousands of dollars if there is several packs of it. Judging from the size of the bothered dirt, someone buried a lot more packs than just this one. Stella run the flashlight around the trees. She heard no suspicious noises. She fell down to her knees and adrenaline made her work as fast she could, burying back the pack that she accidentally unearthed. Panic overtook her thoughts and she ran back to her car and closed the door onto herself as she drove out from the farm. Her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest and she could feel it throbbing even in her throat.

She drove on autopilot.

[minamartin]

Listen, Otto realizing that he helped put a moron on the Iron Throne and then going through the five stages of grief before dipping is peak comedy, bro really fucked around and then found out.

[minamartin]

Whispers of Violence - Chapter 2 : Quite The Spin You Had!

Sorry for the delay. I meant to post it on Sunday evening but i have been ill with a stomach bug. I deeply appreciate every like, reblog and comment. Im glad you guys are interested. :)

Rating : Mature, NSFW

Warnings : Mentions of physical abuse, Mentions of psychological trauma.

Stella was pushing her foot on the gas hard. She had no idea where she was rushing. The last thing she wanted, is to get to town earlier than needed. Fuck, she fully expected herself to procrastinate, reschedule or ask her sister to take care of this instead of her. Stella didn't wanted to complicate this by mentioning it to Carly, so she decided to not tell her about it at all. Somehow her miserable thoughts and feelings agreed, that this needs to be dealt with and the sooner it is, the sooner the discomfort and the stress goes away.

She haven't seen the farm or the house, since that night. Carly packed her stuff and moved into a storage unit near her house, so when she was feeling well enough to sort through her stuff, she could have the opportunity to do so if she wanted. She haven't had the faintest of idea what state the house and the farm was in. It was put up for sale two years ago, because until then she still could not decide what to do with it. Her mother loved that place. But as soon as she died, both Stella and her sister started to loath it. There was no way they will live in it ever again, so the only thing left to do is sell it if they can.

She glanced down to her Porsche's clock on the dash. She only lived an hour away from the town, and she still had half an hour to go. She eased her foot off of the gas and started driving at a more calmer pace. She turned on the music in the hope of it rerouting her thoughts that were running wild. Anxiety already rode up on her spine and infected her stomach. She could only find comfort in the thought, that in broad daylight, surely nothing catastrophic will happen. Even in a town where the Vandals roamed free.

Vandals. What a stupid fucking name to begin with. For understandable reasons, no one pitied the Roman Empire, when it was ransacked by Vandals. It was a horrible state that preyed on the weak, stole everything that they could get their hands on and destroyed most of the ancient greek civilisation. On the other hand, one would wonder what horrible crimes this little town ever committed, to be damned with a bunch of bikers full of anger, hatred, violence and passion for freedom and rebellion.

Their leader, Johnny certainly was an avid reader of history. Stella took care to listen to him very carefully on the rare occasions that he talked. Everyone around him, all the time seemed so hung up on his words, but Stella listened him for different reasons. The first time she had seen him up close, watched his mannerism, the way he moved, she knew it instinctually that this man is the most dangerous one in any room he walks in. He wasn't a man of many words, granted, so it was hard for her to get a better read on him, but she gathered enough to learn to keep her distance from him, especially if Benny wasn't around. Those occasions were almost nonexistent on their own, which Stella always felt really grateful for.

The blasting music had no effect whatsoever, except for keeping her fully awake. She hasn't slept all night. She watched wide awake as the sun rose up from under the horizon. All she could think about, was all the possible situations, that she might possible fall into around town. Will i run into a few Vandals again by accident? What will i do in this case? What do i do if i run into Him? What do i do if i learn the news of Him being dead? What if, what if, what if...

What if, you just stop asking questions?!

She glanced at the dash.

Soon she will need to stop for gas.

She turned off the music and stopped at the gas station at the edge of town. This was the first place she saw after all these years, and it looked all the same as it did some years ago. Chipped paint, rusting corners and discolored spots due to water damage. After she put the filling pistol in her car, she silently studied the place further from behind her sunglasses.

Her stomach shrank when she saw one big old Harley by the pillar, at the left side of the gas station. She quickly recognized the grey haired, tall man who always smoked cigars and usually never left Johnny's side. He lived in her memories as a truly unpleasant man. And she saw quite some of those amongst the Vandals. None of them intimidated her as much as this man. Even his smiles were vile and full of threats.

She quickly turned her head back to the direction of her car. She hoped that her sunglasses and little bit of changed appearance will be enough to deceive most of the eyes. If she was nervous before, her anxiety was a burning oil tanker on the open sea when Johnny himself stepped out of the shop.

She only dared to glance by her peripheral vision and it took everything she had in her to not to turn her head towards the danger. She gripped the filling pistol and hoped that it will not click just yet and she doesn't have to walk in the shop to pay. She turned her back in a nonchalant manner towards the man who was still standing by the shops entrance, and lighting a cigarette – by the looks of it from the mirror that Stella stared into. Yeah...what place is better to have a smoke, than a fucking gas station?!

She saw the man stiffen in his posture and small movements. She instinctively knew just from that – he recognised her, even with her back turned to him in the distance. She felt sick to her stomach and all of her muscles tensed up when he started slowly walking towards her. She instinctively wanted to run, but her rational mind was able to triumph over her anxiety. She steadied herself, like a young tree in a storm, and hoped for the best.

Johnny never liked the idea of her being around Benny. Not even for that short time that they spent together. Even though he disagreed, he never threatened Stella or mistreated her. But he made it clear through his vague hints, that he would prefer her to keep her distance from his club and Benny, because it is not her world, and nor her world is Benny's.

"That's a really, really nice car." Stella forgot how harsh, raspy and unpleasant the man's voice is. It's like a bonesaw, cutting through everything, even in a normal, easygoing tone.

She remained silent.

Not sure if out of spite or fear.

"Nice to see you doing so well, Stella!" He added slowly stepping even closer.

Fuck!

Stella turned around with a posture that showed resilience and carelessness at the same time. She became the biggest fan of the fake it till' you make it method towards a lot of things in her life in the past five years. She was proud of that, out of all the occasions, now more than ever, because she was terrified, but showed no sign of it.

She felt as a billiard ball had stuck in her throat.

She knew it was fear that kept her mute, not spite.

Stella froze up in her entire existence when the man without an ounce of consideration of personal space towards another human being stepped right in front of her, as she were an old lover of him, and with a careful and unusually gentle manner took off her sunglasses. Stella studied him, while he did the same.

He was older. At least looked much older than she remembered. His face was still somewhat handsome, but it had worn out so obviously, even to her it was apparent, that something went downhill in his soul really fast. Only people with and through psychological and emotional stress aged up so fast. Stella was sure he had a lot of that, but she still found it hard to believe that a man like him, would even have a soul and a conscience.

Johnny couldn't believe what she saw in front of his own eyes. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She became more beatiful than she ever was before. A little bud of a flower became a fully blossomed out one. He was an old men and she was a young woman that would never be hers, still he wasn't unaware nor unaffected by the sight nor the scent of her. She resembled too much to an old ghost that still haunted him to this day.

"Hmmm." Johnny hummed and looked away from her face, glancing down at her sunglasses that he kept holding between his calloused fingers. Even back then he understood how this little girl had Benny in a death grip. He wasn't lacking in imagination, but he could not even dare to guess the effect of the women who stood before him now on Benny.

The deafening silence that engulfed them was disrupted by the clicking of the filling pistol. Her Porsche had it's fill of fuel, yet she refused to move. She stood her ground unbothered by outside circumstances.

"It is really, really a nice machine!" Johnny glanced aside to the bronzeish-brownish colored car. "Altough i favour older machines. They are already stood the test of times and still have that brute strength. But the new ones...those always look the best. I never had a care how things look though." He cradled the sunglasses between his fingers. "I'd imagine with the farm being sold, you will be able to afford just about anything. But i can't help but wonder...what would your mother say about selling it?!"

Stella took a long, hard look at the man. Confusion would not even begin to describe what she felt. What basis on he is dragging her mother into something that he has no business digging in at all?! Stella felt a strong case of curiousity, but held her tongue and all she managed to say...

"Can i have that back?" She nodded towards the five hundred dollar sunglasses of hers.

Johnny's mouth formed into a playful smile, but his hand did not move.

Stella learned a little about the pressure-release method from her mother who sometimes used it on horses, and later on people often forced this on her as well. But she was no fucking horse! She learned how to spot when someone is trying to put pressure on her with no sureness of releasing it. And she also learned how to release herself.

"Keep it." She smiled politely and with ease got rid of the filling pistol, put it onto it's place and simply walked by the man into the shop. She felt energized and confident, but she knew all too well, that this feeling is not gonna last. As soon as she paid and walked out of the shop, she already started to get anxious to walk by the man again. But she could not give into her anxiety. She remained calm and collected, even when her arm ever so slightly brushed beside his leather jacket. She opened the door and sat in the driver's seat and slowly drove out from the gas station.

As she took the corner she glanced out the window. Her hands slightly trembled on the steering wheel. She couldn't make sense of how and from where she gained this much bravery and confidence all of the sudden. Perhaps she changed that much. Perhaps she underestimated herself all along.

She drove to the realtor's office and for the first time ever, met her. The whole sellig ordeal was mostly done through the internet and Carly met her once when she traveled here with Marcus. The chatty realtor was carrying on a conversation almost entirely by herself, while Stella listened staring out of the window. But something got stuck on the gears of her hearing.

"And they wanted to meet you so they will be here in an hour."

Stella froze up and furrowed her brows at the woman. "What?"

And this is how she ended up sitting almost two hours in the realtor's office, waiting for the buyers. She forced her smiles and kind words and compliments. She even had gone along with their idea and drove out to the farm with them. They were full of questions and compliments. She recited her usual niceties and lies. If they wanted to hear a fairytale for the two million dollar they had spent for this place, she will tell whatever story they wanted to hear.

Being in the empty house for the first time was an entirely new experience for her. Carly really did got rid of everything. Everything was bared down, thoroughly cleaned and as far as she could see the walls were painted recently. Even the curtains were removed from every window. The entire house was illuminated by the afternoon's sunlight. It looked really nice for the fresh pair of eyes of an outsider. It looked the same for her as it ever did. Only not just metaphorically empty, but physically too.

*

Work burned under Benny's hands that were covered in oil, dust and grime that was coming from the SUV that he was working on. Other than him only Greg was working in the mechanic shop. Benny never met him before, but he arrived here in the morning as Vince asked, and after a fast handshake and introduction, he never received any comments or side eyes from him, which was a good sign.

He seemed like a dude who minded his own business. He liked that type. They were easy to work with, and he needed money. There wasn't many job opportunities around town he could do. He was a good mechanic but the other car repair shop in town would never hire him. Vince's worn down mechanic shop had seen better days, but it was still running due to decently priced repair services.

Benny had no idea how Vince is gonna pay both him and Greg, while also managing to keep the shop open, and still bring some money home for himself at the end of the day, but at this point even if he took home half of what they did, he would be grateful. No one else would hire a recently released con.

Even through the noise of their tools, the sound of Vince's coughing from the office was apparent. Benny stared towards the office while trying to rub off the grime off his hands with an already dirty piece of cloth. He was driven by concern as he slowly walked back to the office. The coughing had died down a little, but haven't disappeared. He leaned onto the doorway and studied Vince who was sitting in his chair with his back turned towards the door.

As he would have sensed him, he turned the chair around.

"What's up kid?" Vince furrowed his brows.

"Nothin'." Benny said with a quiet mumble, studying Vince's face. As his gaze traveled down towards the desk, he spotted the bloody spots on the handkierchief that Vince was clutching in his hand. "What's up with this cough?" Benny asked glancing down at his own shoes.

Vince's chair creaked under him as he adjusted himself in it.

"Lung cancer." He said with a peaceful tone. "I was diagnosed two years ago, did some chemo...wasn't really for me, so i made them stop. They gave me some pill that i have to take...but something tells me it's just delaying the inevitable."

Benny felt like his throat was in a chokehold.

He wanted to say something, but haven't had the strength nor the ability.

"But...aren't there...surgery or some shit?" Benny asked insecure.

"Not when all of it is fucked kid." Vinced shook his head. "The docs did the best they could. They pumped me full of something that made me puke my guts out. I blacked out several times. Everything i tried to eat tasted like metal. The things i loved eating made my stomach turn. Even tried to drink water, and that too tasted like something out of a nuclear plant. So i made them stop it..." Vince stopped for another short cough. "I decided my fate with all the shit i smoked a long time ago. If i only have a year or two, im not gonna change the way i used to live. It's way too late for making any difference."

Benny heard the defeat in his voice and it made him realize how bad it must be.

Vince saw the despair behind Benny's continous silence and the sadness in his gaze. He stood up from his chair. He crumbled the handkierchief into his pocket and stepped to the boy he watched and helped become a man. "Don't make a drama out of this kid! It's ain't nothing like im gonna kick the bucket tomorrow!" Vince grabbed his shoulder. It was much thicker than he remembered.

"But you gonna go." Benny said with a sad glint in his eyes.

"We all gonna go eventually kid! Most of us will get what we deserve! So you just worry about you and how you live! So...you know...quit the booze and cigarettes and eat your fucking veggies and all!"

Benny didn't felt the smile in his heart but his mouth curled up a bit.

"C'mon. Until the Big Reaper comes...there is work to do!"

*

Stella was held up at a red light in town. She gazed through the windshield but her eyes were hurting. She really did miss those sunglasses. Johnny probably had no idea he held the price of a good night of drinking in his hands. Technically she bought every Vandal at least one round.

She startled in her seat when a fast knock reverberated on the passenger seat window. She barely but still recognized the face of Julia. The corners of her mouth curled up into a small smile as she made the window go down.

"Hi there! I couldn't believe my own eyes." Julia said with a honest laugh.

Stella smiled up at the stop light. "Hop in, i'll take you!"

Julia carefully opened and closed the door of the car and gave her a hug as big as she could in the tight space. "Ahhh it is so nice to see you again! I can't believe it!" She laughed wholeheartedly. "Oh my God, how beautiful you became! I mean...you were always the prettiest girl in town but you know...you became a grown women, truly!"

Stella took the kind compliment with a tight lipped smile.

"How are you? I see you still work at the hospital." Stella glanced at the nurse uniform on the women who had quite a few grey hairs in her hair, but most of it was still as blonde as ever.

"Yes, i do. But im not doing night shifts anymore, thankfully." She said.

Stella stepped on the gas when the lights became green.

She still knew all too well where she was and where Julia wanted to go.

"That's good. All the horrible things happen at night." Stella said.

"Yes they do. I loved doing it you know, but i become more tired and tired, and there is also less and less people in town from year to year, so i leave the raging, wild nights to the younger ones."

Stella's shy smile had honest kindness behind it.

"But what about you? How you doing in the city? I heard something about you or your sister selling the farm or something?!" Julia furrowed her brows with confusion and curiosity.

"Yes. Im selling it. There's not a lot i can do with it. I ain't coming back." Stella said quietly.

"That's good. Don't! There is nothing here. The people who stay here are either getting older and older, die or not yet figured out a way to get out." Julia said with a sigh as Stella turned the corner and slowed down in front of the building where she lived, above her husband's bar.

"How is Lizzie?" Stella did not forgot about their only daughter who went to school two years above her.

"She is good. She is working in the city too. She working as a receptionist i think at a dental office. She changes places way too often for me to follow." Julia sighed tiredly. "Hey, come in! It is warm as hell out here, have a soda!" Julia said with an upbeat, encouraging voice. "Rob would be happy to see you again!"

Doubts and anxiety ran circles around on Stella. She wanted to say no. She wanted to get out of this town before sundown and leave it far behind. But she felt way more guilt about saying no, than urgency to leave. Julia kept her alive so many times at her own detriment and risk of her own job.

"Sure." Stella said with a kind smile, but her jaws and posture were tense.

As she walked in the bar she glanced at the horizon. The sun is gonna be down within half an hour. That's how much time she gave herself to run her polite courtesies to Julia and Robert.

Stella saw Robert behind the bar having a talk with an older gentleman who was sitting there. She counted only five people between the scattered tables. Most of the costumers probably gonna arrive after she left. Older and more sophisticated people had the impulse control and decency, to not to start drinking before the sun went down.

"Huh!" That was all Robert was able to say.

"Right? What a rare bird flew into town?! I convinced her to have a soda and say hi to you." Julia said proudly and walked behind the bar.

"Be my guest princess! What can i get you?" Robert asked smiling.

"A cold soda is fine." Stella said sitting up at a stool.

She listened to what they had to say, she answered their questions but kept the details to herself. She watched the last rays of the sun sneaking through the windows and as the sun's light faded and thinned out, she felt an overwhelming dread creeping up on her spine.

"Im gonna go up and change quickly. Don't disappear on me!" Julia said looking at Stella who followed the waterdrops rolling down on the side of her glass with her black painted nails.

She spent the entire day in her black skinny jeans, a white shirt with rolled up sleeves and black lining. Altough the heat started to die down, she still felt herself sweaty, sleepy and worn down. Her firm and high ponytail probably could've used a good brushing. She no longer could smell the perfume she applied on herself, her feet was sore in her black, studded ankle boots. Her breasts were begging for a release from her bra. She just wanted a shower, a plate of food and some peace and quiet after this day.

She glanced up as Robert walked towards her and stood right in front of her.

"I didn't wanted to tell you this in front of the missus..." Robert stopped and glanced behind above his shoulder. "But Benny Cross was here yesterday, asking about you!"

She felt as her blood got cold in her veins.

"Wha...what do you mean looking for me?" Stella stuttered.

"He came in without his vest. It was a strange sight for sure!" Robert's facial muscles twitched. "He wanted to know if you're alive. He looked...different than i remembered. But again five years is...a lot." Robert said rather to himself than to her.

Stella could not make sense of what he was saying. She knew that Robert's bar wasn't the first and never would be even the last choice for any Vandal to have a drink, but they lived in the same town. Surely Robert would have seen Benny a few times around town.

"What do you mean five years?" Stella furrowed her brows curiously. "You two haven't even seen each other passing around town?"

Robert looked back at her like a deer caught in headlights.

"Stella, the guy was in jail in the last five years! He got released yesterday."

Stella felt something heavy falling on her inside.

"Benny was in your house that night. The cops find him there with your father beaten bloody." Robert said with a gentle tone and leaned closer to her. "The kid probably killed him after he saw what he had done to you!" He said with an empathetic tone and gaze.

Stella felt like a tornado grabbed her and flunged her up. Her brain overflooded with confusing thoughts that couldn't make sense of each other. Her breathing hitched and started going awry. Her vocal cords failed to function. She couldn't even swallow from the rock inside her throat.

In the clumsy attempt to stand up from the bar stool, she knocked it over and behind her. The loud thump cut into the laid back silence of the bar. Her legs faltered but she remained standing up and with trembling hands she got a hold of the stool and raised it up into it's place. "Im sorry." She said in a weak voice, barely able to breathe and a weakness was fastly taking over her body. "I...i got...i gotta go." Her voice trembled and she walked to the door with weak legs and walked out to the dark street.

She couldn't open her car door right away.

It took three attempts to get the key into the ignition.

She fought to breathe in the solitude of her car as she droved it through the streets, towards out of town. Everything she knew about the aftermath of that night was what her sister told her. The first time she became conscious in the hospital, Carly was the only person beside her bed. She never even mentioned their father. Nor Benny. Not once. Stella just assumed Benny was already done and through with her, and her father the same. She assumed, he gave her all the beating she could take and was done with her and it all!

She remembered some of that night all too clearly. She went to visit Benny for the last time before she would go back to college. They had a little bit of fight a few nights ago and she wanted to give him and herself time to cool down. She wasn't expecting a plus one at Benny's house. A fully naked blonde girl with messed up hair in his kitchen, holding two beer bottles and turning towards her with a shameless but surprised face when she stepped in the door without a knock. Benny walked forward, without shamed and fully naked as well.

Stella back then settled and ended every single situation that humiliated her with one simple word – Nice! She nodded, turned around and walked out with that, and the bitter taste of shame, disappointment, sadness and anger.

She went through a short but heavy phased of crying on the road towards home. But she quickly put that ghost back into the bottle and put the lid on it. By the look of all the lights out upstairs and all the lights on downstairs she still had to go through one round with her father.

She didn't even properly stepped into the house and closed the door, when the first hit took her straight off her feet. Her father got wind of her having an affair with a Vandal. And he definitely not liked it! He unloaded all his anger on her. And he had a lot of it! She was too weak in every sense of the word to defend herself or to run away. She still haven't woken up from what she saw at Benny's house and her father already started to beat her into oblivion.

To this day she still remembers the hit that apparently, according to the doctors broke her ribs. It was probably more of a kick than a hit. That was the last time she heard her own scream that night. After it shortly came another hit that made her feel like she inhaled water up to her nose. It was probably dealt on her head, because after that she felt the lights go out in her head and she could not remember anything from that night for almost a month. Even when she was awake and off the heavier painkillers, she still had trouble remembering things for a while.

She occupied her then pregnant sisters guest room for more than three months until she was fully recovered from the physical injuries. Still, her sister never even mentioned their father, Benny or what is with them. Not even mentioning if Benny came to see her at the hospital. Even if just to see if she's alive. She forbaded Stella to ever go back to that town and refused to talk or answer questions about anything that had to do with it.

Almost half a year went by since that night when Carly came to the apartment she was renting and sat down to talk about their father's passing away. She stated she wants to cremate him and dump his ashes somewhere it deserves to be dumped. Her suggestion was a junkyard. Stella still didn't know what to do or say, how to react so she nodded and went along with her sister's wishes and kept focusing finishing her time in college.

She had no intentions of mourning her father or even go to a funeral. When Carly a few weeks later came back, saying it is over and done with. No burial plot for him. Only the farm was left behind to be dealt with, but according to the lawyers, it was left to Stella, along with their father's collected wealth. Stella sent half of their father's money to her sisters bank account, even though she wanted none of it, she now had a child to care for.

Stella went to therapy, worked part time jobs alongside college to reintegrate herself socially but she remained focused on her mental health. She met Lydia at her therapists office where she had gone to therapy. They became friends and later they became partners and opened the store.

She never thought of going back to the town. She had no reason left. As far as she was concerned, the last time she saw him, he made it very clear that he will live his life just the same after she goes back to college, than before she came to town. She had nothing to do with him anymore and he certainly didn't wanted to do anything with her anymore.

Carly made quite a big tower out of lies and misinformation. Making her believe that their father was still alive after that night. Leaving her in the false conviction that Benny remained in his house that night and never tried to reach out to her again. And she was stupid, naive and content to never question anything that her sister said. All the while Benny rotted in jail and she didn't even suspected it, because she had no reason to.

A sob escaped Stella's mouth and echoed in the silent car.

A loud popping sound broke through the silence and the steering wheel jumped and rattled hard within her fingers. She instinctively grabbed it as hard as she could, yet the steering fought her hard. She took her foot off the gas instantly and her heart almost thumped out of her chest as the car started to spin lightly but definitely. She was holding onto the wheel, try to regain some control.

Then the car stopped and the few seconds that felt like forever, ended.

She glanced out through the window.

She was at the edge of the town, with forested area on both sides.

It could have been worse. At least the car remained standing and not on it's sides. She wasn't an expert of machines, but she was sure a flat caused this. She opened the door and walked around the car to look at the tires. Sure it was a flat. On the front left tire. She never learned to change tires or even windshield cleaning fluid. But she sure learned how to call and pay triple A.

She put out the warning lights and grabbed her backpack out of the car. A quick phone call with a complete and total stranger was able to calm her down a little. The guy on the other end of the line said it will take almost an hour to get there. She reassured him that she will not be going anywhere.

"Out of all the nights..."

Stella turned her face towards the sky. The crickets and toads were the only noise in the darkness. She glanced down at the dark road. Every few feet a lamp post was lighting patches onto the concrete. She felt the early summer night's cool air on her naked forearms. She found a minute of peacefulness in this unusual situation, but her emotions broke through it, heavy and fast.

She wanted to call her sister. Right now. Yell at her. Curse at her. Humiliate and make a fool of her, as she did one out of her. She knew it wouldn't be the right time and the right way to go about it. And she knew she would say things that she later would regret but would not be able to take back and act like it never happened. That was her sister's way of doing things.

She let her hair down from the firm ponytail that had became painful, and steadied herself to remain awake and sane on her feet. She had no idea how long she scrolled her phone meaninglessly, when she spotted a single spotlight taking the corner in the distance. Blood ran cold in her veins when she actually realised - it is a bike. She anxiously walked to the opposite side of her car, hoping to put something between herself and the biker passing by.

She felt as one billiard ball settled into her stomach and one in her throat, when the bike started to slow down, getting closer and so louder. The light was too blinding for her to catch a glimpse of who was sitting on it. She felt her nails cutting into the palm of her hand, as she made a closed fist out of her fingers beside herself. Her left hand was clutching onto the strap of her backpack. Her heart fluttered and every ounce of aír got stuck in her lungs, when the bike stoppe and she recognized the rider.

It was Benny.

She couldn't breathe when they find each other's eyes for the first time after five years. And then she looked away nervously. She couldn't do this! She wasn't able to! She didn't have the strength! She was not sure if she ever will have it. Robert's words still played on repeat in her mind – killed him, jail, five years, released yesterday.

Stella heard the engine of the bike rattle a bit, then the engine and light was shut off. The metallic rattling let her know that the kickstand took the bike's massive weight. From the corner of her eye, she saw Benny dismount off the bike.

She felt overwhelmed. She had to force herself to take a slow and deep breath through her nose. She pushed her black painted nails further into her palm so far it was painful. The pain reminded her – fake it till' you make it. It didn't mattered if she didn't felt brave, if she didn't felt confident. It wasn't written on her forehead! She had to act the part to sell it. She felt the need to save face! Because she felt like a massive idiot and she was a massive idiot, who believed the things her sister told her, instead of looking for answers herself.

Benny couldn't believe his chances. He stood up from the bike and walked on the opposite side of the car from her. He felt cheated by his own memories. Betrayed by his own mind. She was much more beautiful than he remembered. Her face was just...mesmerizing. But he couldn't overlook her obviously disturbed emotions which all sat on her tensed up face.

"Hi, Stella."

She felt like his voice alone was threatening to collapse her false confidence, like a violent earthquake testing a flimsy little building. He only said two words, but she already recognized the difference - his voice was deeper than it used to be. After all these years, after everything, she was still completely attuned to him.

"Hi." She forced it through her teeth. "Th-thanks for stopping but i already called triple A so..." Stella wanted back the real confidence she had dealing with Johnny earlier today. That's what she wanted as her armour and shield! Standing unbothered in front of a man who would kill her just for shits and giggles. And now she stands on weak legs, insecure, vulnerable and scared. In front of Benny, who she used to run to for safety.

"You're all right though?!" He asked with a concerned look and glanced down at the flat tire. She must have been driving at quite the speed for it to be in this condition. Benny studied the road towards the direction he was coming from and the headlights of the Porsche showed the braking marks on the concrete. "Quite the spin you had!" Benny said with peaceful patience and lifted his arms onto the roof of the car, crossing his fingers. As he studied her face, he realized that her hair is way longer than it used to be. A few more inches and it would have reached her hips. He cracked his fingers as he wrestled with the want of running them through her hair.

Stella felt like a mute. She just shrugged her shoulders. She was not all right! At all. She wanted him to disappear! To go on where he was heading to and leave her here with all of her misery. She wanted a release from under his influence. He didn't even had to be close to her or do anything, she felt overwhelmed by his sheer presence alone. Even after all these years, even after how things have ended between them, he still had too strong of a grip on her.

He studied her clothes. What he could see from this angle. She used to wear a lot of dresses with all sorts of prints, pleated skirts with printed shirts. He remembered all of the collared sweaters and cardigans she wore during the summer. It often made him question her sanity in the first few days of knowing her. Wearing warm clothes and black thights under her skirts and dresses in the scolding summer heat of California. It made sense after he noticed her bruises. She hid them with pretty, layered clothing. She used to wear ballerinas and oxford shoes. After she became a regular on his bike, started to wear jeans and shorts with sneakers and ankle boots.

Now she wore a pair of tight black jeans and a white shirt with rolled up sleeves. He glanced at her hand that kept a tight grip on her backpack straps. Her nails looked long and black. She wore some rings as well. Benny watched her face with more focus. She was purposefully looking anywhere but him. When he arrived she walked to the other side of the car. She used to do this when she felt afraid or insecure. Putting distance and obstacles between herself and people. But she never used to do this with him. Benny swallowed hard. Maybe she is afraid of him?!

"I heard someone bought the farm." Benny remained polite and patient while feeling a desperate need to get her talking, to hear her voice, to get her to look at him, to get her to react to him in any other way than distant. He wanted to see her eyes that he was always able to read so well. He searched for an ounce of warmth still left in her to give him. He felt like a man freezing to death hoping for a spark to make a fire.

"Yeah." Stella said firm and tight. She thought she will never see him again, but she never would have expected her own reaction being this. She was frustrated in a completely different way than she used to be around him. Back then she was frustrated all kinds of sexual ways. Now she feels this insoluble stress out of anger, disappointment, guilt and sadness. And she doesn't know how to deal with it, let alone how to mask it in the presence of him.

Benny wasn't surprised she doesn't want to talk about that and he should have known better to try to get her to talk to him opening with that. But he didn't know what he's supposed to say. So many things have changed. He changed. Maybe she changed too. But he still felt an overwhelming care, love and desire towards her. He continously cracked his fingers on the top of the car out of frustration. He still not dared to move, because he didn't wanted to stress her even further than she already seemed to be.

They both felt the stalemate they were standing in. Neither of them knew, who they would be talking to if they started. They only knew each other in the past. And that is gone.

Between Stella's overwhelming emotions, one was louder than the rest. It was confusion. That was what fueled all of it – the anger, the sadness, the guilt. Confusion birthed it all and it would not let her ignore it! She didn't wanted to feel like this.

Like a river flowed in it's natural direction and couldn't do otherwise even if it tried, she couldn't remain disinterested, cold and distant towards Benny. She could do it to anyone and everyone! But not to him.

She swallowed hard. Her fingers opened up from her closed fist. The blood started to rush back at her fingers with a tingling sensation. "I ha-have talked to Robert and he said something i...i don't understand." At first she had trouble finding her own voice and words.

"Hmmm." Benny hummed quietly but audibly. His full attention was on her.

"He said...you were at my house that...the night my father died." Stella still stuttered lightly.

"I was." Benny said with a calm but firm tone.

Stella's instincts were blazing red and blasting loud to push this matter until she gets to the truth. She wasn't sure that's what she wanted, but she was absolutely sure that was what she needed to hear to be able to breathe again. And the only person left for her to be able to trust, was Benny.

"Did you kill him?" Stella's voice was barely audible, but Benny had no problem hearing it clearly. All of his senses were sharpened to receive anything that came from her direction. He was aware of the fact that ever since he arrived, she barely was able to breathe. He knew that feeling well. That is how he felt ever since that night that the cops took him, without telling him if she was still alive or not.

"I did."

Stella's throat dried into a desert. A bitter taste appeared in her mouth. But she was able to breathe again. Oxygen rushed to her brain that was starving of it becaused of her so far laboured breathing. She didn't felt like crying at all. She felt liberated. But not for long. She still felt angry. She still felt guilty. She took a step back from her car, towards the dark trees beside the road. She couldn't face Benny.

Benny felt as his own heart has been stepped on. He lightly pushed himself away from the car while Stella's back was still turned towards him. He didn't wanted to startle her, so he stopped with his back leaning against Stella's side of the car.

Stella sensed the fact that he moved somewhat closer to her. He took her previously occupied place on this side of the car. He felt clueless about what to do or say. He kept cracking his knucles and nervously looking left and right. Stella just now noticed a little detail about his appearance – he wasn't wearing his club's vest and patches.

"Im sorry!" These were the words that came to Stella first.

Benny glanced at her curiously. "About what?"

"All...all of it." She said shrugging her shoulders and lifting her arms a little out of confusion. "For that night...for..." Stella couldn't even finish because she didn't know what to say. "But you know that i never asked such things...of you and i would...i would never ask you to..."

"I know." Benny nodded. "And you'd never have to!" He added quietly.

"I've never wanted this to happen. Any of it...what happened to you!"

A big and heavy sigh erupted from her as she tried to chase away the need to cry. Benny stepped away from the car, but he only took one big step. His hands instantly found their place on Stella's waist and then on her back, pulling her body onto his. And she could not resist. Her head found it's place between his chest and shoulder. She smelled engine oil, dust, sweat, cigarettes and something that resembled body wash or deodorant in a much earlier hour of the day. But most of all, she smelled something unexplainable, but only clearly and instinctively identifiable to her as Benny. Safety and comfort instantly took over and put he rinto a weakened state. Her hands found their way onto the back of Benny's t-shirt and clutched it hard.

A pair of lights illuminated them as a car was approaching on the road.

Stella felt like the real world hit her right out of the pleasant memories of the past. She retreated her hands off of Benny's back and took two steps backwards, and turned towards her car.

The man looked at her behind the truck's rolled down window.

"Are you Stella?" He asked with a tired frown.

"Yes. I called." Stella nodded.

"Okay. You said you've got a spare?!"

"Yes. As much as im aware. I never had to use it." Stella said insecure.

She nervously glanced between the man and Benny who had absolutely no intentions of changing Stella's tires. The sooner she has the new on, the sooner she will disappear from his sight, again. Benny softly grabbed Stellas upper arm, to lead her away from the ears of the working man.

"What do you mean by talking to Robert?" Benny asked with fiery eyes but on a calm and composed tone.

"That i talked with Robert." Stella said plainly.

"No, not that...i mean...you said it like you had no idea that i was in your house that night!" Benny said, just as confused as Stella was a few minutes ago.

"Because i didn't know!"

"No one told you what went down that night? I mean...your sister?!"

Stella swallowed hard.

"No. She didn't say anything about it." She said quietly with remorse.

Benny glanced at the guy who was almost ready with Stella's tires.

"They didn't even tell me if you were all right or not! Benny said defeated.

Stella scoffed.

She couldn't deal with it all right now.

"I...i need to go!" She said confused and directionless, but only when she wanted to move, she realized that he is still holding onto her arm.

"Please don't go!" Benny asked with a broken and defeated tone.

"Please just...let go, i need to go!" Stella desperately clawed his off of her arm and walked towards her finished car. It hurt her so much. Everything hurt so much. To see him, to hear his voice, to have his hand on her again. To be here with him, to not to stay with him. She signed the paper for the man, paid him, hopped into the car and just drove. She hoped the pain will disappear by the time she arrived back at the apartment.

[minamartin]

Whispers of Violence - Masterlist

Universe : The Bikeriders

Ship : Benny Cross x OFC

Plot : Stella was a college student visiting her small hometown during summer. She never would have thought that meeting a handsome, rebellious biker will change the course of her and his life as well. But it did. Years have passed since the last time they've seen each other. Will they even recognise each other and who they had become?

Rating : Mature, NSFW

Warnings : Trauma, Mentions of physical abuse, Mentions of psychological abuse, Mentions of violence, Sex, Various adult themes.

The story is set in our time, not in the 70's. It was easier to write it, to me at least, since i don't know a lot about that time. :)

Special thanks to @lindszeppelin who helped me over the bumps and gave me encouragement.

Chapter 1 - Enjoy Your Freedom

Chapter 2 - Quite The Spin You Had!

Chapter 3 - Slow Learner

Chapter 4 - Will He Be Okay?

[minamartin]

Whispers of Violence - Chapter 1 : Enjoy Your Freedom

Rating : Mature

Warnings : Hints of violence, physical and psychological abuse & trauma.

Benny stood anxiously by the door of his jail cell. He doesn't have to get a last look onto these worn out walls, the used up and uncomfortable bed, nor the high and small window, where even he couldn't see anything from. He never had anything in his cell, other than his stack of cigarettes, a few books and one picture. He touched his front pocket. He felt the thin, overfolded picture in it.

His stomach was the size of a pea when he got in. Now that was about to leave, it is again. But for different reasons. The night that landed him here, ended so fast it got him whiplashed. All he had in here was time. Time to think. Time to drive himself insane with all the doubts and worries that had gone through his mind. Every single hour of every day when he wasn't fighting to survive in here, he was wondering what happened to her.

He remembered the sound of thumps and shattering glass coming from the house when he arrived. He remembered the anger he felt when it overloaded his rational thinking, as he kicked in the door. She was lying on the ground, barely moving at all. He could not see her face. He couldn't even reach her before his anger took over and let itself out on her father. He kept guessing this decision millions of times – was it better to not even get a look of what he did to his own daughter or he should have look at her and call an ambulance, before he did everything that landed him in here?!

The ward arrived at the door and the buzzing sound that became so familiar by now, allows him to have a last concert hearing it, and as he walks in front of the guard, the last time ever being cuffed up, the strange and familiar cacophony of all the inmates in their cells becoming more distant as he walks by the corridors.

He felt a neverending whirlwind of anxiety, standing between the secondary and the main gate's fence. Like he would actually walk back... He felt the heated up concrete pushing all of the sun's heat into the air. His arms were bare and free to feel the warmth. He heard the noises of the highway in the distance and the buzzing sound of the main gate opening.

As the gates shut behind him, he raised his face towards the sky. Even the sunlight felt different on his face, than in the courtyard of the building. He closed his eyes as a light breeze touched his face. He clenched his vest hard in his left hand and surveyed the parking lot. He spot a familiar face in the distance amongst the parking cars.

A slight and weak smile has gathered at the corner of his mouth as he slowly, taking his sweet time walking the pace he pleases. Not a single ward knocking and pushing him in any direction.

Benny remembered Vince exactly as he saw him now. Tall frame, kind eyes behind a worn out face. He was there for him from the start when he joined the club. He patched him up too many times when a fight ended badly for him, drove him when his bike broke down and he learned how to fix it from him. He surely never could count on his useless, drunken father, but Vince was always there when he was in any need.

"Vince!" A weak and sad chuckle erupted from Benny as he reached the old man's open arms and received and gave his first hug after five years. He remained there for a long minute as his emotions died down.

"You thought you'll have to walk all the way home, huh?!" Vince joked.

"I kinda did...actually." Benny said nodding.

"That's a long walk, boy. Even for you!"

Benny just realised how harsh Vince's voice became. Perhaps all the cigarettes he smoked in his years came to collect. A short but heavy series of coughs erupted from him, that put a little worry into Benny.

"You wanna drive?" Vince asked, wiping his mouth into a handkierchief.

"I probably don't have an active license." Benny stated, glancing back at the building behind him.

Vince laughed wholeheartedly.

Benny didn't.

Vince studied the young, handsome boys face for a long moment.

"So you serious?" Vince asked with a little bit of proudness in his voice.

"I just got released, i ain't going back for a fucking pull over!" Benny said.

Vince hid a loving, proud smile into the corner of his mouth.

Benny experimented with the feeling of a moving car under him for while and took in the scenery beyond the rolled down window. Lots of traffic, the sound of the various engines and horns, the blowing wind on his arms. He felt some resemblance to freedom.

Vince pulled up to a drive through, and bought Benny his first real cheeseburger and ice cold Coke after a very long time. It smelled and tasted better than he remembered. He savoured the first bite for half a minute before swallowing it. He didn't even realized, but a moan erupted from him. He glanced down at the cheeseburger in his hand and then devoured it like a starved man, licking his fingers clean from the melted cheese. He surely missed a lot of things. Good food was not the priority on his list of things, but sure as hell it was among the more accessible ones.

Benny stared out of the window, looking at the traffic they were part of and played with the paper cup's plastic lid, when Vince broke the silence between them.

"How was it? I mean inside. Was it rough?" He asked.

"It was." Benny said quietly.

Benny didn't even wanted to think about it anymore, let alone talk about it to anyone. The things he have seen and endured in there, were enough to fill stories for a lifetime, but it isn't like he was gonna write a fucking book. No one would have understood it anyway! Not unless they had been there before.

In there, he couldn't count on no one but himself! In there, nobody came to save his ass if he couldn't. There were no friendships, no allies, only temporarily beneficial partnerships. The moment someone didn't have use for him, or he wasn't beneficial to their survival, he became a problem. And problems were dealt with fast and brutally.

The very few club members that were in also, showed no interest in comradery. Quite the opposite! They were the ones, who showed the least amount of effort, to collaborate with him. The club was a small little speck, a fly shit on a windshield, that had little to no value. The fact that he had been a member, was more of a problem, than a benefit inside. Some of the rival club members were just itching to stick a screwdriver or something resembling of a knife into him. Unlucky for them, he had no interest giving up the ghost in there. Better yet, he never found more reasons to live, than within those walls.

"You know, kid...some die in there, some kill themselves in there, and the few that comes out alive, come out worst than they went in. Or at least loose most of their teeth or a kidney. I see you still have yours, which tells me you did fine!" Vince said, trying to tug on the tension hanging there between them.

Fine wasn't the first word that came to Benny's mind. Fractured and broken bones, dislocated joints, few nights in the health ward on strong painkillers. But he sent quite a few fuckers there as well! A few who tried to mistake him for their whore, almost didn't came down from their painkiller infused dreams and altough, he did not, one dude surely lost his kidney, after he stuck him right in it, with his mocked up toothbrush, after he made a watered down effort of choking him from behind with his rolled up shirt.

He never had a pleasant or long sleep. Some nights he hasn't slept at all. He read a few books he had no interest for while being out. He learned to appreciate the wise words of dudes who he never met and was grateful that they wrote them down. He spent quite a lot of time lifting weights and working out. It was a form of anger management, meditation and survival training all at once. If he walked away with anything good, it was a clearer mind, and an almost unbreakable hold on his own anger and learning the hard way, that you can't count on no one but yourself! In or out.

"Is she alive?" Benny didn't even realised when the thought overtook his mind, let alone when he said it out loud.

Vince took a big breath, receiving what he had been anticipating all along.

This reaction caused Benny to feel terrified in his bones.

"Vince, is she alive?!" Benny asked louder and firmer, with a tight jaw.

"Yes, yes, she's alive kid. Calm down!" Vince glanced at him anxiously.

Hearing this out loud itself caused him to calm his nerves a little, but none of his anticipation.

"How is she?" Benny felt as the picture in his pocket was ready to burn through his jeans.

"I don't know kid!" Vince said carefully and was already nervous to add... "No one saw her in years."

Vince took Benny all the way home. When he opened the door to the tiny house that his parents left him, all he smelled was dust. There used to be a time when the house smelled of grilled cheese and perfume. Now he walked through the small, one story house that was still the same as he left it. Half empty, meaningless and without any signs of life.

He walked into his bedroom. Found the same clothes he left in the closet. All clean but heavy with dust, but he could not care. He retreated into the bathroom with a towel and took his first private shower in years. He sure as hell missed his privacy and not being rushed by any means. He cleaned himself off thoroughly and wrapped the towel around his waist. He wiped the steam off the mirrored cabinet and sniffled as water dripped off his hair onto his face.

He opened the cabinet and felt dizzy looking at the lowest shelf. Her hairbrush, lip balm and necklace was still there. He grabbed the tiny piece of jewelry with trembling fingers and looked at it like he found a miracle. Anger and fear caught his throat in a chokehold. He grabbed the sides of the sink and forced himself to breath through his nose.

It wasn't a week of knowing each other, when she first slept in his bed. She never left many things laying around in his house. She insisted not to impose herself onto him, into his life just after a few weeks of knowing each other. What she brought with her, usually took back to the farm. But Benny liked her stuff laying around. The smell of her inside the house, in his closet and the little bag full of her things, neatly packed on the side of the sink. It made the house more like a home, than an empty, lifeless place with walls, roof and a bed.

He stared at everything that he had left of her, except for the memories.

Benny didn't think the first thing he will do after being out, is fixing up his old truck. He'd rather fix up his bike, see how it's doing, but Vince took care of it while he was in, so that is at his garage. And he needs to go now!

He barely had enough gas to make it to the gas station, where he fueled it up and went into the town to the bar, which in the past never was his choice for a drink or the place where he would pick and choose the girl for a given night.

Robert's bar was still in the same state as it was the last time he drove by it. The red brick building was between a barber shop and a hardware store. As far as he knew, back then it was a peaceful place for old people having a glass of whisky or beer, while quietly chatting or reading a book or a newspaper. The clientele was on the older side of the scale. The people who came here didn't enjoy the life of fighting and fucking all night anymore. They did that twenty, thirty some years ago.

He couldn't say he really knew Robert. She did knew him well though. And she especially knew his wife, who was the nurse who tended to the wounds that her sack of shit father caused her on a regular basis. Once he came for her to take her back to his place, and Robert's bar was the place she told him to come to. The man wasn't particularly happy to let her leave with him. A Vandal. Which made Benny wonder – did he ever actually thought, that she will be safer in the house of his father where she just escaped from than with him?!

Benny didn't wear his vest. It was never lucky to wear it and he didn't wanted to instigate a fight with old people, who all they had to do to break a bone, is to slip on a wet bathroom floor. He wore his old black jeans and a wornout, more grey than white t-shirt. Both of them felt a little tighter now, than they used to.

Robert looked the same as he did back then. Middle aged guy with a well maintained greying beard, wearing plaid shirts. He was drying a glass with a kitchen towel when he noticed him walking in the door. The two fans above each end of the bar did nothing to chase away the fastly approaching summer heat. Two old men were sitting at the back end of the bar with a board that resembled a chess board from the distance and another guy sat at the bar, reading a worn out book.

"You came to the wrong bar." Robert stated firmly.

Benny raised his open palms to showcase his peaceful intentions.

"I don't want to cause any trouble!" Benny's voice was on the softer side of firm.

"That's a first, coming from a Vandal!" Robert said dismissively.

"I just came to ask..." Benny felt it harder to talk than usual.

"About Stella?" Robert bent under the bar.

"Yes." Benny deliberately walked slowly towards the bar, anticipating a shotgun coming up from underneath it. That would be the usual reaction. Even without the vest, his face was enough to setting people off on sight. He didn't blame any of them.

"She doesn't live here anymore. Her sister requested her to being moved to a better hospital in the city. After she became stable to move, they took her and we haven't seen her ever since." Robert kept pushing the buttons on the remote control to the tv above the bar. He turned it away from the sport channel and settled on one of the news ones.

Benny barely was able to swallow the rock that settled into his throat.

"But she is alive, right?!" Benny could hear how weak his own voice got, but he couldn't care.

"Well...my wife said, in the city she had better chances for a better and faster recovery. And she wouldn't have said it that way, if she thought, she will die because of her injuries. Apparently, she received such heavy beating, the doctors were afraid of moving her right away as her sister requested, because they couldn't tell if her head trauma caused her brain to bleed and since she was unconscious, she could not show signs or tell it. She had broken collarbone, broken ribs, fractured arm, at the minimum concussion as well." Robert maintained his weight on his hands that were on the bar.

Benny could not escape the judgemental gaze of the bar owner as he talked.

He understood it. But his judgment was misplaced.

"If my wife wasn't the nurse who treated that poor girl earlier than she met you, i would have thought it was your handy work! Or at least one of your good friends!" Robert said, taking a step back and flung the cloth onto his shoulder, picking up a case full of empty bottles from under the bar and walked his way towards the back corridor of the bar.

"I never hurt her!" Benny barely could hide his growl behind his words.

"Sure!" Robert left that up to Benny's conscience.

Benny sank down onto one of the worn out stools. His head and shoulders suddenly felt so heavy, like he was carrying tenfold of his own weight. He knew his own lies well. He never raised a hand on her. That is sure. But he hurt her in another way, that's for fure. The guilt he felt, made him question if he should be going around, disturbing the past at all.

Benny came to the Pit, because he felt obligatory to. All of the club members had thrown him a welcome back party. Lots of booze, lots of loud music, lots of pretty girls and some beautiful women for him to choose from. He still nursed the unopened beer between his hands, he couldn't hear the blasting rock n roll from his own, blank thoughts and he haven't had the energy yet to please a woman.

He expected he will feel energized by the newfound freedom that fell on him, but instead he just felt directionless, tired and more alone than he was inside. The club and the bar was the same, except for two people who got shot down for something that no one was willing to mention or discuss with him when he asked. To be honest, he didn't cared enough to ask again either.

If he looked around he saw the same things he saw five years ago. Drunk, loud, agressive bikers looking for a fight. The not so drunk ones looked for a fuck with one of the many girls and women who had not left town yet and were looking for a long night of fun. As much as he wanted to see and touch a naked women again, he craved a long night of sleep much more.

He felt a friendly slap on his shoulder which made him look at the direction.

"I've never seen a fresh out of jail man so miserable as you!" Johnny said.

Benny had not expected many words from the leader of the club, and was grateful that Johnny's quiet nature haven't changed. He was too tired for idle, mundane conversations and drunk people yelling near his ears.

"Sorry. Im grateful for this..." Benny looked around the bar. "Im just tired." He said, lighting a cigarette and taking a deep inhale of it.

"I've heard you visited Robert's bar." Johnny said curiously.

"Yes." Benny nodded and wondered who delivered this gossip.

"It is no good for nobody, if you going around, bringing up the past. Not for anybody in this town, not to you...not to her." Johnny nervously massaged his knuckles and glanced back at Benny, who's full attention was on him now. "She moved into the city. As i heard, she has a boyfriend nowadays. Some rich prick, running fancy restaurants." Johnny added with a frown. "She never belonged here. This town was always too small for the women in her family. Just...let her live the life that was meant for her, and you live yours as it was meant for you."

It took Benny a minute to digest all that he heard – boyfriend, fancy restaurants.

"Enjoy your freedom! That little blonde one in the corner seems really into you! I can't blame her, you bulked up nicely kid!" Johnny tapped his shoulder strong, and walked away as silent as he arrived.

Benny, knowing the night will get wilder and wilder with every single beer and shot, decided to end his own night earlier than the rest of them. Vince kept his promise and bringed his bike to the bar, so he could finally take it home.

"I kept it clean and running for you, kid!" Said Vince with a proud smile.

"Thanks." Benny glanced down at the bike with a wide smile.

"Hey...earlier i hit up the store for my usual dinner stuff." A series of heavy coughs interrupted whatever Vince wanted to say. "I heard some whispers about the farm being sold."

Benny instantly found Vince's gaze.

*

Stella felt the familiar haziness of the end of her sleep and the beginning of her awake state. It was rarely a pleasant feeling. She preferred to sleep nowadays, but her mind either kept her awake or dragged her out of the state of unconsciousness way too early than it was necessary. She sat up in the bed. For a minute she quietly listened to the noises of the awakening city coming from behind the closed windows.

She also heard the light, ever so audible snooring of Sebastian. He probably arrived back at their shared apartment around four or five am, as he usually did, when the busy night ended at the restaurant, and he had his fill of a busy evening. He had a few pleasant qualities that Stella was grateful for. He was able to move around in the apartment and the bedroom while Stella was sleeping without waking her up. Which was quite the accomplishment, as the slightest of noises and disturbances caused her to jump, even from sleep. He also was very hygienic, tidy, predictable, dependable and educated. Other women probably would have found more positive qualities in him and the rest would have been content with these already, but she never found these qualities nor his physical qualities attractive.

Attraction wasn't the reason behind this relationship. Stability, dependability, routine was. When she met Sebastian two years ago, she was most impressed by his controlled nature. His composure, his all around calmness and well mannered personality. He was eight years older than her. Stella appreciated his wisdom about certain things, his tendency and willingness to keep people at the same distance from himself, as Stella did with people in her life.

She also found him a little attractive back then. But this attraction faded really quickly. Only the rest remained. Stella did not felt obligatory to end their shortly started relationship, just because the candle was flung out by the slightest of breeze. She needed some stability. She didn't needed intense situations, passion and overwhelming emotions. So she learned to cope with emotional and so sexual disinterest and coldness from him and from her own self towards him as well.

She returned the favor of being quiet. She picked up her phone from her nightstand. The alarm bell was still fifteen minutes away from going off. She turned it off, as she usually did. Her naked feet clapped on the hardwood floor as amidst a big yawn she walked through the apartment, and made her way to her wardrobe room. The smell of the unwashed fabrics and plug in air refreshener mixed together.

Stella did her whole and short morning ritual. A big glass of water to empty stomach, picking the outfit for the day and packing into her bag. She opened the drawer of her desk. The subscription bottle was there. Still untouched and unopened. As usually she put it into her bag. It seemed to work out well as a charm. She had left it behind a year ago after finishing her therapy and haven't took a pill since then, but the thought of it just being there if any kind of shit hits the fan, was a comforting thought.

She retreated to the bathroom for a little while. The fast and barely warm shower that she took made her tremble a little, but at least she was now completely awake. She took a last, short look at Sebastian who took upon the sense of her disappearance, and took control of the entire bed.

She left the the apartment as she usually did – around 08:45. She found her Porsche in the apartment buildings underground garage and sank into the drivers seat, placing her backpack to the passenger seat. She headed to her favorite bakery to pick up her own breakfast and Lydia's coffee as well.

She opened her store two years ago with her partner in it, Lydia and it still was successful, which surprised her the most. She designed all of the clothes and accessories as well. There were well loved pieces that remained staples on the shelves, but every 4-6 months she designed new pieces and forged them into a collection. She loved designing. Playing with colors, fabrics, ideas and letting loose her imagination and madness onto clothes. It was a good form of therapy, and Stella needed that in every possible form.

She went through the dates of the in and out going orders, the fabric arrivals, the sponsorships they looked to make to get the brand name even further out there and also the most important thing on the agenda – getting the broken down air conditioner work again, before the end of May arrives and brings the heatwave with it. California is and will be California...

An hour before noon she left the store to get to her hairdresser appointment, at her sister's salon. When she stepped in, her sister was in fast paced and uplifted conversation with one of her guests that sat in her chair. Stella exchanged a glance with her and without a word sat down into one of the comfy lounge chairs beside the wall and waited for her own turn. She pulled forward her phone and scrolled apps and the internet meaninglessly, to distract her thoughts.

"Hey, you!"

Stella lifted her gaze upwards at her sister, Carly.

"Hop in!" Said Carly on her chirpy voice.

Stella sank into the chair and murmured quiet, one worded responses to her sisters questions and listened to her when she was able to hear her through the water running beside her ears as she got her hair washed.

Carly told her about their pool getting completely fixed and how expensive it is, their Golden Retriever, Buck who was forced into a diet by his vet and about her daughter Violet, who Stella visited when she was able to find the emotional strength to do so. She was not careless or disinterested in her sisters life. They just existed on completely different spectrums of everyday life.

"How is the...how's getting the farm to sale goin'?" Carly asked nervously.

"So far not a word from the realtor." Stella answered with disinterest.

She knew her sister wanted to hear none of that wretched place she couldn't wait to escape from into the city. None of them had good memories of it. Stella was the last person to want to handle the getting rid of the farm process, but it was left to her when their father had banned Carly out of their family, for not going to college and going away with her boyfriend, and walking her own way, and many other things he yelled onto Stella's head throughout the years about her own sister.

"Not a big surprise." Amanda shrugged. "Who would want to live as a fucking outcast in the 21st century? I suppose other than the people who are like mom." There was a hint of sadness in Carly's sigh, but Stella could see anxiety fastly creeping onto her sisters face.

"Just...let me know when you get an offer. I don't want you to go back there alone. I will go with you or send Marcus along, okay?!"

Stella nodded without a word.

Stella was used to all of the regularly scheduled communication circuits that she ran with her sister. Barely talking about their mother because it was too painful. Not talking about their father at all, because he deserved to be forgotten. Not talking about the town that they were born into, because they both left it behind with everything and everyone that was ever there. The last chain that still hanged onto heir back, or more so say, her back, was getting rid of the farm. And then everything is done and buried.

At least on the better days Stella was able to convince herself of this. On the bad days, she felt sadness and anger. On the worst days she felt even more sadness, anxiety, crippling fear, sorrow and longing. The rational part in her brain tried to shout as loud as it possibly could – it was only a month from the summer, it can't be as fundamental as you make it to be!

She instinctively regressed into her thoughts and memories, and that was the worst place to be at any given time, because with the memories came the wide variety of emotions, and she already found out the hard way, that she is not capable to withstand them. Because when they come, all of them are coming, all at once.

She lived a relatively happy life as a child. Her mother had a big farm that was full of horses. Her grandmother had left it to her mother. Both of them were in love with horses, but while her grandmother worked as a vet, her mother worked as a horse and horseback riding trainer. Her father, who was twelve years older than her mother and used to be a lawyer and worked up a substantial amount of wealth, married her after she got pregnant with her sister.

Stella shared her mothers love for horses and became a showjumper. She won at least a dozen ribbons in and out of state. She loved doing it. She loved the smell and sound of horses, and their peaceful, sensitive nature. When she came in from the stable and the horses, she sometimes catched her mother and father arguing, Carly sometimes shouting between them, try to make peace but it's almost always only escalated the argument between them. When she was around twelve her mother became ill due to ovarian cancer and she quickly passed away in six months, due to her refusing chemotherapy.

Her father refused to bother with the horses, and only kept the ones around that had still worth a lot of money out of the previously put in training by her mother. The ranch hands and the few people who used to work alongside her mother, kept training them until the horses deceased, retired or were sold for a price that was deemed worthy by her father - who knew nothing about horses. After the horses were sold, the ranch hands had to go as well.

Stella was devastated when both of her horses, and her mothers horse was sold as well, but soon she found herself craving to be sold onto better homes and trading places with her horses. Her father started to drink. The dinners spent at the dinner table started getting more tense every day, with her sister sneaking out, spending time with her then boyfriend who their father forbidden her to be with. Carly always had to have the upper hand, so she talked back, sometimes yelled. And when occasionally their father landed a palmed hand on her and later on even a closed fist, she talked back even more often and more louder. Eventually she packed a bag and left in the middle of the night with her boyfriend, only leaving her a paper explaining her reasons.

Stella was fifteen at the time. And she was left alone with her father, who learning from the lessons his firstborn dealt to him, kept a closer watch and tighter grip on Stella than he ever did on her sister. Stella wasn't allowed to have boy friends, only girls. She wasn't allowed out on week days. She wasn't allowed to have bad grades, she wasn't allowed to choose which college or which course she wanted to go on. Of course she was allowed to pick whether she wants to be a business woman, a lawyer or a doctor, but she wanted to be none of that. But given any other course she would have decided to take, her father wouldn't pay a penny for her education, nor her housing, nor her food and she wouldn't be allowed to stay in the home she grew up in.

She tried the same as her sister did. Protest. Yell. Cry. After the first attempt, she lost all courage to ever try again. When her father got heavily drunk on red wine or an expensive scotch, she didn't even needed to give him a reason to beat her into already found submission. He decided she glanced at him a way he didn't liked, or according to his taste she dressed like a whore, or she just wasn't able to sleep from the distress and the pain from the previous beating she took, so she fell asleep during class at school, which reached her fathers ears from her concerned teacher. Her father was so concerned with her humiliating him with this, he pulled out his belt.

When she got accepted to a college at the other end of the state, she felt a giant rock lifting off her back. She finally was able to move away from home. Even if she had to share a room with a girl or several who she never met, she would blindly choose them over her father. She enjoyed college a lot. The business classes were easy and she was able to get the best grades with attending the mandatory minimum of classes.

She got a job, and even found her first ever boyfriend in college. It only lasted for three months and she didn't really felt sad when it did ended. The second was with a guy who she worked at the cafe. She liked him. He read a lot, listened to decent music and sex was an improvement compared to her first experience. Then he got a job that paid better, and week by week they drifted away from each other. Stella just quietly and without a protest, accepted things as they were and moved on.

She only had to attend at home once a year, so his father could see and get the measure if and whether he spend his money wisely on her education. She never mentioned the fact that she was working as much as she could, so she will never be forced into a situation where she should have to consider moving back into town. The first summer she was expected to spend a month at home. Her father knocked her down so hard that she fell down the stairs, fracturing her arm and getting a concussion.

She could not stop vomiting and her headache was unbearable. Her father was way too drunk to take notice of this, and neither of the fact that she drove away from home, to the same person who always treated her injuries without having to admit her into the hospital.

Julia always treated her kindly when she found herself in the hospital with lies about stupid accidents, asking to be treated or for painkillers at least. After the first few appearances she quickly read the situation as unsolveable, so she gave her the adress where she lived, and offered to help her if she ever need any.

And she did.

The second summer she spent at home, would have been a month again. Only right away in the first week of summer, she was heading home from aimlessly driving around town with a book and a blanket on the front seat so that she doesn't have to stay in the house, when her car broke down in the worst places it could have - a few minute walk from the Pit. A bar that served as a nest for the town's biker gang, the Vandals.

And that was the place where she first saw Him. The handsomest guy she ever laid her eyes on – Benny. Sometimes she wished she never stepped foot into that bar, never got into a conversation with him, never accepted his help, never agreed to meet him again.

"Okay. You're done!"

Stella snapped back into reality by her sisters voice.

"How is it?" Carly asked.

Stella climbed out of the chair and checked her hair from every side and angle she could. All she asked was a wash and light trim of the ends, and that's exactly what she got.

"Perfect." She smiled at her sister thankfully.

"Then perfect. I can go to eat lunch now, with you and your pretty hair." Carly grabbed the broom to clean up the mess of her work.

Stella enjoyed a little bit of peace and sunlight at their favorite lunch place and listened to her sister some more, while not even touching her food, then she went back to the store to be present while the air conditioner got fixed. She arrived back at the apartment shortly after Sebastian left it. She could still smell his cologne lightly in the bathroom, when she took off her make-up.

She changed her clothes and walked into the kitchen. She put up some music and started to prepare her dinner. Opening the fridge she had found the same things on her shelf of the fridge, that she left there. Sebastian had a different approach towards food than her. So much that they had different shelves in their shared fridge for products and meals.

He preferred medium rare steak, she ate it medium well, which at he actively shook his head on the rare occasions they sat down to eat together, or went out to satisfy his adventurous nature of discovering new restaurants. He never was bothered by the tedious process of making a perfect beef wellington or a souffle, while she preferred to make simple and fast foods, posessed an enourmous sweet tooth and never refused her cravings on occasions she desired a fast food chain cheeseburger. He always drank wine or champagne to his dinner, but she never touched alcohol. He preferred to do his grocery shop strictly at certain places, especially his meats. While Stella didn't made such a meticolous process out of a simple grocery shopping.

One of their earlier dates he made her a perfect and creamy salmon tagliatelle, which hasn't left her memory ever since. She always thought he just tried to counter her very firm opposition againts seafoods, and it was a partial success. Then on a trip to Greece, he took her to a small, cosy tavern where she tried grilled octopus the very first time and she liked it. Then on another travel to Italy she tried squid ink spaghetti, which after she felt catastrophically ill for two days.

Stella heated up the grilled chicken breasts from yesterday, made herself a lousy salad and sat down in the window sill, watching the city's traffic going by under the building. Her phone's buzzing woke her up from her empty gazing. She put down her half empty bowl and walked to the kitchen counter. She lowered the volume on the music and took the call from the realtor.

"Hey, Stella, i was trying to reach you earlier today."

"Yes, im sorry, i was...really busy today." She recited her tired lies.

"In this case i have really good news. The farm is sold! A couple traveled here from all the way from Portland and without even try to bargain, they just said yes to the price that we were asking. They signed all the papers, so now it is only waiting for your signing."

Stella felt a little relief but it was gone in a second, and anxiety took it's place when she realized – she has to go back to town, to sign the papers. She wanted to say something, but every word caught and died in her throat.

"Stella...are you still there?" The realtor women asked.

"Y...ye...yes, i am here." She said when she found her voice. "I...i can be there tomorrow."

"Wonderful. Around what time i should be expecting you?"

"I can be there by...somewhere before noon." She said with a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"Okay. We meet at my office tomorrow." She said.

"Okay." Stella said quietly and broke the line up.

She also felt something in herself breaking.

Perhaps everything.

The pit of her stomach became heavy and full of pain. She ran from that small town, so she could escape her past. She vowed to never go back there. Ever. Because she knew if she did, she would die inside her soul, as well as in her body.

Again.

[minamartin]

Rhaenyra's reaction to her own demand of "Aemond must be sharply questioned".

Rhaenyra's reaction to Alicents demand of the retorsion on Lucerys eye.

[minamartin]

Pain changes people. It makes them trust less, overthink more, and shut people out.

lessonslearnedinlife.com (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

[minamartin]

Deva Hood’s room in Banshee at Cinemax.