#ch: benny forester

[dinah-stmaur]

An Adventure in Reading

WHERE: Riverbank, close to Fairford WHEN: February 29th 1904 STATUS: Closed | @cescapist​

It was a nice Monday morning where, if not for the chilly air, one might be tricked into think that spring had already arrived. It was only the promise of it but that made it no less beautiful, yet what had Dinah in high spirits was the hour that would soon follow, where she’d be able to read her favourite book to someone else and ask for their opinion, ask if maybe she was not as mad as a hatter after all.

She had meant to meet Benny Forester sooner, yet two weeks had passed since they had talked about this meeting of theirs. Her own recklessness had been the cause of the delay, what with ending up on the Mercia Herald with her very own first scandal. It was still ridiculous to her how badly people had reacted, how many had gladly espoused what were mere assumptions—wicked assumptions at that—as facts. But she could live with that, she could hide in the library and read and pretend she lived in as many different worlds as books she could read, what she could not do was ignore her sister’s disappointment and for that very reason she had asked Benny to push their talk to another date.

After all, she knew Mrs Forester to be a harsh woman and she wouldn’t very well approved of her or of Benny if they had met like nothing had happened. Even if nothing had happened, and nothing was suppose to happen anyway.

She shook her head to clear her mind of all these thoughts. The past didn’t matter, what matter was that she was here now. Sitting down on a warm blanket settled on the grass, her maid not too far from her on her own blanket, Dinah was fixing the third blanket that had brought with them for Benny. She had a little stack on books with her, even if she only meant to read one to Benny.

“Do you think it’s okay?” she asked, addressing her maid. “I didn’t want it in the shade or it’ll be too cold, but then I don’t want the sun to blind him either... maybe a should check if..” Dinah had turned, about to crawl from her blanket to the next, when she noticed a long shadow on the grass approaching. “Oh! You are here!” 

[coeurdastronaute]

The Story, Ch. 5

Previously on The Story

The show was at the largest venue in Bly, an old community center that doubled as town hall, wedding rental, voting station, and almost every other event in between. The bar in the back was composed of tapped kegs in containers of ice and boxes of cheap liquor, while the stage rose only two feet off of the ground on the opposite wall. Old wood beams held up the roof and giant pillars kept all of it standing, solemn and tender as they were, worn soft with age and bodies and heat. 

It felt smaller than her elementary school gymnasium, but Dani didn’t mind. The warmth of the bodies that filed in felt safe, as if she could feel every beating heart. 

Owen was kind enough to grab the first round, returning with stretched hands full of frothy pint glasses. The lights were dim, just strung up string lights hanging from the rafters, the vents propped open for added fresh air while the ceiling fans wobbled on their stems to keep everyone from roasting. Dani surveyed everything, enjoying how normal it all felt, and how weird it was to be around so many people suddenly. Laughter and conversation boomed and echoed around them, and it, too, was a comfort she hadn’t expected. 

There was something different about Jamie, as they sat down at a small, lopsided table in the corner, the whole party oddly anxious all around to be away from the house for the first time in a long time. But Dani picked up on a different kind of anxiety in the gardener. She knew it was about the rarely-seen sibling, but she also didn’t know how to fix that. Something told her she couldn’t help despite her desire to do it. Jamie hadn’t given her enough to be someone that could make this better. 

“It’s pretty full. He must be fairly well-known,” Dani offered as Jamie went half in on her drink quickly. 

“This is the only thing happening tonight,” she disagreed. “Not much entertainment coming through Bly. They’ll take anything they can get.” 

“I’m excited for some music,” Owen decided. “Time to cut a rug and such.” 

“I don’t know if I’ll remember how,” Hannah sighed wistfully before taking a demure sip of her beer. “Can’t keep up with the new stuff.” 

“What kind of music does he play?” Dani turned to Jamie who stared at the swirling mass of people. “Jamie?” 

Startled slightly by the hand on her thigh, Jamie followed the touch up the arm to the au pair’s amused gaze and cleared her throat. 

“Oh, he grew up play traditional stuff back home. Kinda branched out all over. He mostly is just in the band. This is his first band where he’s been the lead. Calls himself a Swiss Army knife of a musician. Whatever books him the gig for the next few months.” 

“It’s going to be fun,” Dani promised, quieter this time, just fo Jamie. “I’m sure he’s excited to see you.” 

“Or he needs a kidney or money.” 

“Maybe,” she shrugged, squeezing the leg in her palm. “But at least we get a night off.” 

The gang relaxed into their spot as the hour ticked on toward show time, while still more locals filled the hall, milling about, drinking and existing for a rush. Jamie, too, relaxed slightly despite her constant looking out over the crowd for familiar faces. Dani moved her hand to take a drink from her glass and didn’t put it back, but the length of their arms rested together, squished at the table. Jamie thought about that a lot. 

They were four friends, not coworkers. They were four friends, being themselves, and it was a wonderful feeling for them all. 

By the time the band took the stage, their table had the remnants of three rounds of trips to the bar, and while not exceeding drunk, they were laughing more than ever before. 

Jamie looked at her brother as he took to the mic for just a minute before turning to the au pair, oddly vulnerable in the moment. She watched Dani stretch her neck to get a better view as the lanky young man put a guitar strap over his shoulder and introduced himself. 

“That’s him,” Jamie nodded. “Mikey.” 

“You have the same chin,” Dani decided, turning her eyes to the gardener beside her, appraising her, strictly for comparison’s sake. “And... “ she smiled. “The same eyes.”

“Are you blind? His are painfully brown.” 

“No, not the color,” she shook her head. “This part.” 

Jamie felt her smile falter as finger tips touched just under her eyes and moved around to her brow, causing the furrow to soften. She just watched Dani smile softly with her observation. 

“You have eyes like a forest. Sometimes green, sometimes brown, sometimes gold, sometimes all of them at once. It’s oddly fitting. I think you might be made of the woods.”

It knocked her out to hear that. Jamie filed every word, every shape of every syllable to keep to herself and replay all night. The whole thing. The smell of the drinks on their breath. The feeling of the skin on her brow. The fact that Dani was less than a foot from her face and that was the closest they’d ever been. The way the lights overhead made her hair glow white almost, or golden sometimes. And the words. No one ever took the time to say something like that to her, but it was said so factually, so unlike a line, that it felt like maybe it was a fact. That Dani was someone who could make facts true. 

“Excuse me--”

Dani looked away before Jamie did. Time didn’t quite matter at that point, because the gardener had forgotten even where she was. 

“We already have drinks, thanks,” Dani dismissed the man at the table. 

“I already know I’ll strike out with this one,” the stranger nudged his head toward Jamie. “But I was hoping for a dance from her beautiful friend.” 

“Fuck off, Tommy,” Jamie slumped back in her chair as the music swirled to a new height, louder than should have been allowed. 

“See what I mean?” he teased. 

Dani looked to Jamie who just shrugged and relented. 

“We play darts at the pub. He’s a shite dancer and darts player.” 

“I don’t know,” Dani politely shook her head, bashful suddenly. 

“I’m a great dancer,” he promised. “I’ll show you around.”

“First one to dance with the American wins the pot, yeah?” Jamie looked over his shoulder at the table she knew to be the regulars about town. “How much?” 

“I’d never partake,” he promised, holding out his hand. 

“Go on,” Hannah encouraged the au pair. “Quite a strapping young man.” 

“I’ll be coming back for you,” Tommy nodded toward the housekeeper. 

With one more glance at the gardener, Dani tentatively took the hand extended to her. She was tugged out to the dance floor, laughing and holding on for dear life, much to Jamie’s chagrin, which she buried deep down as she tried to make herself watch her brother perform. 

“I suppose I better get my dance in while I can before that goliath comes back,” Owen stood, offering a hand to the housekeeper. 

“I’m all left feet,” Hannah shook her head. 

“Perfect. I’m alright.” 

The guitar twanged, and drums kept a beat, and the classic noises of their festivals were spun into a modern kind of feeling, alive and new but still with the steps and changes. Whatever the people had expected, this wasn’t it, and perhaps they were surprised and grateful for it. Mikey’s voice was deeper than Jamie remembered, deeper than the sparse phonecalls separated by months. He looked like their mother. He looked like his father more, and that man was a stranger to Jamie. 

But for the life of her, she wasn’t sure how he did it-- how he turned the entire place alive. 

XXXXXXXXXX

James was tall. Much too tall, Dani realized as they danced together. But he was sweet and polite, careful to ask the basic questions, compliment her enough. He made it to the second song before he was interrupted with a request for her hand by another strapping young man in a stripped shirt. 

For some reason, Dani accepted despite the annoyance of being away from her table. When she looked over, she saw Jamie alone, slouched there, but intently watching her brother. From the table, the gardener chanced a look to see the smiling au pair, glowing and effervescent as all hell. Dani kept a distance with her dancing partner, Benny from the grocer down the block. 

By the third partner, Jamie was beyond annoyed. She didn’t like the way Dani held their hands, nor did she appreciate how the boys smiled and were so polite and she kept the smile on for them. 

Only when James made his pitch to the newest woman in town, did Jamie decide that it was enough, that she couldn’t handle the fearful but polite look of the au pair, that she didn’t want to see anyone else, that she wanted to be the last one dancing with the American. 

“May I?” 

Dani looked toward the voice as James put some space between them finally. Gallant and cocky, Jamie challenged him to say no. The song swirled around them all in the stand off, outliers in the moving mass. 

“Yes, of course,” Dani nodded, dropping her hands and nodding politely to the gentleman caller who took it well enough for her sake. 

Satisfied at her handiwork, Jamie gave him a smirk as he rolled his eyes in his defeat. She held onto the victory as best she could, aware that it now meant touching the au pair, and she hadn’t particularly planned on this part of the endeavour. 

“Looked like you’d seen a ghost. Thought I might save you if you didn’t mind.” 

“He… he looked like…”

“James looks like everyone. That’s his curse, you know? Destined to be a fill-in despite my best coaching to find him a proper bride.”

Dani gave up thinking about it. She didn’t want to anymore as Jamie held her hand and pushed her hip, spinning her out, exaggerated and right on time. By the time she was pulled back, all was gone with the past and what remained was just that second. 

“How was my delivery this time?” the gardener asked with a wiggle of her eyebrows. “I’ve been practicing after my last report card.” 

“Much better.”

“I can always call him back over and we can try again, if you’d like to provide notes.” 

“That’d ruin the follow through.”

“Ah, right,” she sighed. “I suppose I’ll just have to keep saving you then, if that’s alright? Strictly for revision.” 

“Strictly,” Dani nodded, fighting her smile though it burst forth a little. 

The song shifted to the next, but neither moved, neither let go. The lights flickered slightly overhead, the ancient electrical system unaccustomed to the weight of the music and the mood. Dani softened in Jamie’s hand. She wasn’t sure how, or where it all came from, but she took a breath and washed away the nagging feeling that she was doing something wrong. She was out with friends and the music was good and the night was happening. 

The gardener adjusted their pace, deftly moving them in a way Dani hadn’t expected her to be capable of doing. What was revealed just showed the multitudes that remained hidden, perhaps under lock and key, from the average passerby. But Dani was set to investigate, no matter the cost. 

They moved in a comfortable quiet, until Dani realized she was closer than she’d been with anyone all night, and for the first time it hadn’t felt like work. She ran her thumb along the worn fabric of Jamie’s shirt, willing herself to remember just that, just the threadbare feeling and the smell of sawdust and begonia. 

“Did he call you a ‘bonnie lass’?” Jamie asked, pressed close. Dani swallowed as a hand moved to her hip. “Try his exaggerated accent and tender Scottish boy routine on you? Call you beautiful beyond compare?” 

“How did you know?” 

The smirk appeared, only this time Dani was so close she could practically miss it. Her nose nearly touched a dimpled cheek. The heat from the crowded bar and the last vestiges of summer made the moist ends of Jamie’s hair even curlier. The au pair held onto her shoulder and felt a squeeze on her hand as they moved to the pace of the music. 

“Taught him everything he knows, Poppins.” 

Dani chuckled and shook her head, pushing away slightly though she didn’t make it far, the tight grip of the gardener keeping her still as the song began to close. 

“His accent was quite charming.” 

“And ye’ don’t like mine?” Again she leaned closer. Dani could smell the sweat and Jamie-like scent on her skin, just beneath the beer and heat and wood of the bar. As the music grew quieter and the applause rose, Dani felt the tickle of breath on her neck. “Do you need someone to tell you how beautiful you are? Do you not know, Dani?” 

“I…” 

“It has been an absolute pleasure to play our songs for you tonight,” Mikey interrupted the applause. “We have just a few more for you to enjoy. Thought we could do an old favorite, spice it up a bit and really wear down these old floor boards if you’re interested.” 

The arms that were holding her up loosened and Dani was left in a daze as Jamie whistled and hooted, so that all the au pair could do was wake from the haze of the bright dance floor and squished bodies and weakly clap as well. 

In the middle of the entire group of happy, dancing humans, Dani felt, for an absolute instant, that she was free. Her hand was still on Jamie’s shoulder until she snatched it away, remembering herself. Someone shifted, and she saw Eddie’s face in the crowd for a split second, and the warmth that seemed to emanate from her very core went cold, like water on a fire. 

A drowsy guitar chord began, lazy and somewhat more old-fashioned than the previous set. Before Dani could escape it, she was stuck, and a beaming gardener turned to her. 

“M’lady,” Jamie held out her hand after a formal and deep bow. 

Dani took her hand and looked around to remind herself it wasn’t real. 

“I, uh, I don’t know the steps,” Dani whispered, fumbling slightly. 

“Good thing it doesn’t matter then,” Jamie promised. “Keep up and find me, yeah?” 

“Find you?” 

“Aye, you’re the hen in this fox house.” 

By the time the drums kicked in, Dani felt herself relax in Jamie’s gentle guiding, the music and her smile infecting her completely. Just as she was getting the hang of it, Mikey’s dulcet tone humming and vibrating the very rafters with the stamping of feet. And despite herself, the warmth came back to Dani as the chorus rang out. She lifted the hem of her dress slightly as she bounded around, completing the steps, stomping the rhythm out. 

It was sometime at the beginning of the second verse that Dani felt herself tossed, moved around from dancer to dancer, spun and laughing so loud she thought she wasn’t making a sound because the music drowned it out. She was dipped and spun, with various sized hands on the small of her back, and twisting her hand as she moved from suitor to suitor and with every passing chord she felt free and light, she felt like she was floating. Each caller seemed more eager than the one before, and Dani lost track of time itself. 

She lost sight of Jamie in it all, and dismissed Eddie’s visage in the dark corner for a moment as Owen snagged her, carefully tugging her back to the present and maybe the future, his movements no where near as easy and agile as the gardeners despite his best efforts. He lasted about ten seconds before her hips were encircled by strong arms, and Hannah found her a few seconds later, both out of breath and  brimming with warmth before Owen spun to her as well. 

And it didn’t matter that she hadn’t a partner for a few moments as Dani allowed herself this second, to not catch her breath but rather keep losing it. She felt her cheeks aching from expressing more joy than she had perhaps ever before in her life, right there, on the unsanded and stained old floorboards of the ancient community center. The lights were too bright, too hot, the fans ineffective against August and the bodies who didn’t seem to mind. Dust kicked up and floated around them while the walls seemed to shake and move with them, allowing such jubilee. It was unexpected, to suddenly be alive. Unexpected and confusing and overwhelming. 

In the middle of all of the bodies and all of the bliss, Dani found herself trying to remember the last time she’d danced, truly, honestly, painfully, deliriously, deafly danced. 

“I thought I told you to find me, Poppins,” a low voice murmured against the shell of her ear. 

Jamie was her favorite dancing partner. It was no contest really. The other dancers were great in their own ways, but never quite right;  some were too tall, and some too short, some not fast enough, and others were too slow. None of them had the smile. None of them chased away the guilt of being alive. Her smile was infectious and only made Dani’s bigger. The drinks of the evening were coming to a head into a perfect timing of buzzing beneath her skin and feet. It was Jamie who made the magic, and only right there did Dani realize it. 

“I can barely see straight,” Dani laughed, her smile poking her own ears, her movements a little more haphazard, but she didn’t care because Jamie met each and every one of them. She knew the steps now and she couldn't be bothered to care. 

The music slowed for a moment, but the crowd knew it was just gathering it’s momentum, and Dani inhaled the calm as Jamie spun her and clung, their hips close. 

“This is the best part,” the gardener promised, shuffling them along. Chests heaved to catch breath. From beneath her lashes, she looked at Dani and noted the pink of her cheeks and the red of her lips. 

Sweat slicked the curls to Jamie’s forehead, the tan of her skin not at all hiding the blush of her chest. 

“Am I going to be hunted again?” 

“With a face like that? Yeah, I’d say so.” 

“Don’t let go then.” 

As much as she wanted to freeze time, it wouldn’t, and the song continued, exploding into noise for the finale. A small curl of the guitar grew quicker, prepared to grow louder until the drums came back in. Dani didn’t hear Jamie’s response, but rather felt the grip tighten. And all hell broke loose, bodies ducking and dodging and moving. Dani tossed back her head as Jamie spun her again and again and again until it stopped with no more than a whimper.

As soon as it ended, Dani wobbled before tossing her arms around Jamie’s neck and laughing there. She let herself be spun once again, her dress flowing around her knees as the crowd applauded and cheered, the laughter milling between it all.

“Didn’t know you could move like that,” Jamie chuckled. 

“Me neither,” Dani confided, still slightly amazed. 

“Seems like you needed it.” 

“I did.” 

The next song began and with a little less confidence than before, Jamie held out her hand again. 

“Unless you’d like a break,” she offered. “I’d go for a pint--” 

Dani took her hand and moved closer again. There wasn’t the rumble of the song among the people, there weren’t steps to it, just two people pressed tightly against the rest of the room. 

“I don’t want to stop moving,” Dani sighed, resting her cheek on the gardener’s shoulder. “It’s safe here.” 

She didn’t get to see the small smile that Jamie had as she stood a little straighter, grateful her brother knew enough to play a slower song after such a commotion. 

“I suspect you might have a few attempts to interrupt.” 

“Please don’t let go,” Dani shook her head. 

“It’s going to get another thumper in a minute.” 

“Good.” 

“You better hold on tight.” 

XXXXXXXXX 

The town of Bly was nearly quiet until the bar spilled open and from the large doors, a wave of overheated bodies washed out onto the lane, pouring into every direction as the drinks were cut off and the music finally ended. It was a clear and warm night, with thin clouds occasionally hiding the stars, creating patches that tore at the evening intermittently. The respectable crowd was already in bed, and the rowdy bunch set about slinking home. 

With a bit of nerves, Jamie bit at the skin of her thumb as she toed where the dirt met the grass near the fence beneath the old lamps that led back into the town proper. Cars began humming past, kicking up dust as they dispersed despite a few roaming gaggles of drunk and laughing friends. 

It’d been nearly a decade since she’d danced so much or had that much fun. It was still swirling in her head as she came back down to earth. The continual spinning could only be attributed to the au pair and her laugh, how it bounced around the room, better than the music, and how carefree she looked, moving with such freedom it betrayed all of her power walking through the manor. It was entirely a new problem, Jamie realized, to see such a tightly wound thing break away because she was perfect before, and now it was… it was… 

She sighed and dug for the smushed pack of cigarettes in her back pocket. She just wasn’t going to think about any of it and blame everything on the stiff drinks and mixture of alcohol and music. It worked for the puritans. 

“Your brother was pretty good,” Dani offered, taking a seat on the fence. “He got all of the talent then?” 

“I’d like to see him grow three varieties of orchids,” the gardener murmured as she stuck a cigarette between her lips and began the curious search for her lighter. 

“I meant musically. You are clearly a talented dancer and botanist and camper and trainer of young men in the art of flirting.” 

She couldn’t help but smile as she met Dani’s eyes during that list. She fiddled with the cigarette, wiggling it between her teeth as she leaned against the fence. Her shoulder touched Dani’s leg, where the hem of her dress fell on bare knees. 

“Must be from the other half of his genetics.”

The flick of the lighter effectively ended the conversation, or at least she hoped, shielding it from the nearly non-existent breeze out of practiced habit. She took a long drag and tilted her head up to add to the flimsy collection of clouds hidden in the dark behind the streetlight. 

“Thank you for tonight,” Dani offered amidst the quiet. 

“I didn’t do anything but bring you to a lowbrow night at the opera. Not sure it’s in need of any gratefulness.” 

With another drag, Jamie shook her head and crossed her arm over her middle. Dani reached over and pulled the cigarette from her fingers before taking a deep drag herself. Elegantly, like a professional, she fiddled with it, furrowing at the burning end. Jamie hadn’t ever thought to imagine such a sight from the tight pony tail in human form. But now that she had seen it, she didn’t want to imagine anything else. 

“Thank you for tonight,” she repeated, handing it back. 

“You’re welcome. Thanks for… thanks for coming.” 

“I want to dance more.” 

“Lucky for you, I know a guy who can pluck a fine tune,” Jamie stood a little taller. “I’ll go fire up the band again.” 

“No no, stop,” the au pair laughed, tugging Jamie’s arm back from her faux errand. “I meant in general. I need more moments to feel… to not see… for--” Despite the smile on her face, Dani struggled to find the right way to say what mattered. Helplessly, amused at it all, she looked to the gardener. 

“To feel invincible.” 

“Yeah, that.” 

In almost quiet they passed the cigarette back and forth until Jamie tossed it to the ground, snubbing it with the toe of her shoe. 

“I should go find Hannah and Owen, get a ride back to the Manor.” 

“I was-- I could take you.” 

“Enjoy some time with your brother,” Dani reminded her as she hopped down, her hand firm on Jamie’s shoulder for support with the maneuver. “It’ll probably be another six years before you see him again.” 

“I’ll see you around then.” 

“Seems bound to happen at some point. “

Still brimming and smiling, Dani twirled as she made her way toward the car and Hannah’s form waving in the distance. 

“Night,” Jamie offered weakly, sure it never reached the target who was humming and dancing her way across the field that acted as a parking lot. She leaned over the fence and folded her arms, waiting and watching. 

“And thank you for being my fox tonight,” Dani called, turning back again and bowing, exaggerated as Jamie had on the dance floor. 

Her laugh trailed off, wafting along in the breeze, dipping and winding its way between the branches and leaves and gone, evaporated into the night and among the clouds and the smoke they’d shared.

[jazzman-19-blog]

Crazy Little Thing Called Life

A/N: Alright here’s Chapter 2? Yeah, I know I was suppose to post it yesterday but some of my family came and stopped by so yeah. This one is a little longer than the first one? I don’t know but my writing will become longer(and better) I promise. Anyways hope you guys enjoy this one and please let me know if you would like to be part of the tag list!

*Also to clear some things up, Ben is 21 in this(started school late I guess I don’t know) and the reader is 18.*

~with lots of love, Jazzman~

Summary: A road trip/vacation between two old friends that turns into something more(basic plot but whateva)

Song: Life Is A Highway by Rascal Flatts

Pairing: Ben x reader

Word count: 1731

Warnings: the tiniest bit of angst? (not really), slight use of profanity.

*Reblogs/asks/opinions are always appreciated*

Ch. 2: Are We There Yet? 

————

     Before heading out to Cali, you and Ben always had to stop by Yuma. You were born there and had some of your dad’s family lives out there. Ben on the other hand was born in Bournemouth, U.K. just like your mom and Ben’s mom. Ben’s family had decided to move to America and your mom decided to go too but out of all places, she chose Yuma, Arizona while Ben’s parents moved to Mesa. But that’s where she met your dad so it worked out okay for you. Even though Ben didn’t have any relatives in Yuma, he always loved to stop by your grandmother’s house. Sometimes you felt like she loved Ben more than she loved you. Eventually, both of your parents decided to move to Mesa which kinda sucked but you couldn’t have done anything. You were only two and your mom really missed her best friend. Shit, you would too if Ben decided to move away back to the U.K. 

     The only thing that sucked about driving to Yuma, is the boring roads. Arizona isn’t known for it’s beautiful nature. No. It was known for its emptiness, heat and cacti. Sure, Arizona has forests and what not over in the northern part of the state but down below, it was boring and plain. Luckily, you had a best friend that kept you company. 

     “LIFE IS A HIGHWAYYY, I WANNA RIDE IT ALL NIGHT LONGGG,” Ben sang his heart out and you loved it. Even though he was off, it was fun to watch him sing along to the radio. “IF YOU’RE GOING MY WAY, I WANNA DRIVE IT ALL NIGHT LONGGG.” You loved his dorky little outbursts, you were laughing so hard that you forgot you were driving. 

     “Hey! What’s so funny? I have an excellent singing voice!” He tried looking at you with a serious face but he couldn’t stop himself from bursting out laughing too. So now both of you were dying of laughter, barely breathing at this point, before you realized that you were swerving from left to right. You had finally came back to reality when you swerved off the road, almost hitting a cactus. You had just slammed on the brakes, making both you and Ben jut forward. You had been driving for not even an hour yet and already almost crashed. You looked over to Ben and started to giggle uncontrollably at what had just happened. Ben still looked a little phased but turn towards you and started giggling with you until it turned into full on laughter. 

     “Your not very good at driving, love” Ben snickered

     “Fuck you.” You pulled back onto the road and once again started heading towards Yuma. 

                        Three hours later…

     Ben had decided to jump in the back and had fallen asleep while you were still driving. Fortunately, you had just pulled into Yuma and were heading straight to your hotel room to check in. Ben had only reserved one room since it had two beds already. It’s not like you haven’t slept with Ben in the same bed before anyways. 

     It was getting dark since you guys left later in the afternoon. You stopped at a red light and checked your phone. It was already 7 by the time you guys arrived. Finally, you pulled into the parking lot at the hotel. You decided to not wake Ben and left him in the car for now. You jumped out of the car and headed for the lobby. It was a pretty nice place inside, you headed toward the front.

     “Hello, I reserved a room under the name of Ben Jones?” The lady typed in something and handed you your keys. 

     “Room 314, third floor” She said as she pointed toward the elevator.

     “Thank you.” You walked back outside toward the car and opened the door to the middle where Ben was. He was still sound asleep, you were gonna feel bad for waking him but didn’t want him sleeping in the car all night.

     “Ben,” You shook him a couple times to get his attention. “Benny, get up. I got the room keys.” He shuffled around a bit before sitting up. He still looked pretty tired and barely opened his eyes. He looked over at you with a smile. A smile that always killed you. 

     “Ok, I’ll be out in a second Y/n. I’ll help you take in our stuff.” He said as he pushed his hair from his face. You walked to the back of the car, you weren’t going to be here for that long. Only a couple days to hang out before setting off to Cali. Once you got the two suitcases out, you closed the back door and locked it. Ben had just climbed out and forgot how tall the Excursion was with the lifts and tripped, falling to the ground. You couldn’t help but laugh a little because it wasn’t the first time he’s done this. He quickly stood up and brushed himself off, he walked over to you. He hadn’t noticed that you saw him fall, again. 

     “You sure your gonna be able to carry these inside Benny? You could barely get out of the car without falling.” You loved to tease him when he did stupid shit because he did the exact same thing to you. His face started to turn red. 

     “I’m fine, I just forgot how bloody tall your car was, that’s all.” He said as he grabbed both of the suitcases and headed off towards the hotel doors. 

     “Ben, let me help you.”

     “No, I’m going to prove to you that I don’t need help.” He opened the front door and walked in. You followed after him, knowing that he doesn’t know which room it is. Of course you had to laugh at his stubbornness, he always did this when you made fun of him. 

     Once he reached the elevator, he turned towards you.

    “What’s the room number?”

     “314, third floor” You said as the elevator doors opened. You both walked in and you always loved pressing the buttons on the elevator so Ben always let you do it. 

     Once you reached your floor, you both headed for the hotel room. You finally reached the room and unlocked it. For some strange reason, you liked the smell of opening the hotel room for the first time. It was a weird thing to like, but so were you. Ben threw the suitcases on the floor and jumped on one of the beds. You did the same but on the bed closest to the window. You were exhausted from driving for three hours straight. 

     You had to get up though, you got off the bed and dragged your suitcase to your side of the room and started unpacking. You grabbed your hair brush and toothbrush and a towel and headed to the bathroom. All you wanted to do was take a hot, relaxing shower. The shower didn’t have a curtain, it had a sliding glass door instead. So you quickly turned the water on and got undressed. You jumped in the scolding hot water. 

     Once you got out of the shower, you grabbed your towel and dried yourself off. You then realized that you had left your clean clothes out in the room. Fuck. You held your towel close to your body as you slowly open the bathroom door, you checked to see if Ben was awake but he wasn’t even there. He must have left something in the car. You quickly walked over to your suitcase. You decided to just dress right there since Ben was probably taking his time. You throw on your underwear, and shorts but before you could put your shirt on you heard the door close behind you. You stood still in panic for a few seconds before turning around to see Ben standing there. You quickly throw on your shirt.

     “Ummmmmmmmmmmmmm, hey Bennnnnnnn.” You say as you quickly rush past him into the bathroom and close the door. You don’t know why Ben seeing you without your bra was a problem since you guys were so close but it just was. You could also tell Ben was a bit flustered since his face was a bright shade of pink. You let go of your breath that you didn’t know you were holding and continue on with your nighttime routine. Once your finished you throw your hair in a messy bun and walk out of the bathroom. Ben was laying in bed watching TV. He looked over at you. 

     “H-hey, I didn’t mean to walk in on you. If I would have known-” You cut him off.

     “Ben, it’s fineeeee, really, I should have just dressed in the bathroom.” You walk over to your bed and get in the blankets. “Plus, it’s not like I haven’t seen you almost naked before too.” your face turning a bright red and so was his. Ah, so he does remember. 

                Flashback to freshman year

     You decided to have another sleepover at Ben’s house because you loved the big bean bag he had in his room. And of course loved hanging out with him, but you mostly wanted the bean bag. Ben had decided to take a shower after you pushed him into the mud and rain. His mom wasn’t too thrilled about it either but couldn’t help herself from laughing too. You were just scrolling through Tumblr on your phone on your way up the stairs to Ben’s room. You had thought Ben was still in the bathroom but apparently not because as you opened his door you saw him standing there without a towel. Luckily, his back was turned towards you so all you saw was his butt. You quickly slammed the door before quickly walking back down stairs. 

     “Y/n? Are you okay?” Ben’s mom looked a little shook from the door slamming.

     “Just peachy.” You say as you sat down on the couch next to her.

     “I definitely remember that,” Ben said as he started laughing. “You walked in just as I dropped my towel. It was embarrassing but funny.”

     “So I guess we’re equal now then.” You said as you put your hand out for him to shake it. He shook your hand in agreement and with that settled, you both watched TV until you both fell asleep. 

[thefamilyineverknew]

Turning 47: pt. XV

“Ch-ch-ch-changes”

26 May 2018

“You know, in Sweden they make these perfectly shaped butter knives. They’re just ideal for spreading butter on pancakes,” I say as I wolf down a hot stack. It’s a bright Sunday morning in Evergreen, Colorado at Benny & Kathleen’s. Thankfully, they were home last night and were willing to put me up for the night (kicking their middle child out of his room for me...extra thanks to him). I woke to a family of deer peering in my window from the surrounding forest and the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen upstairs. How did I deserve all of this? Again, I am overcome by the generosity and warm hospitality of people who I haven’t seen in forever.

“So, how did the meeting at Barnes & Noble go?,” they ask with baited breath. “Well, wow...,” I reply, and proceed to reiterate the details of the story that I have laid down in the previous parts of this tale, showing them the photo of Arla and me in the park. “Oh wow! It’s really undeniable,” they marvel. I am here and present, but also in a bit of a daze. That just happened, and here I am in the home of old college friends on a Sunday morning, eating breakfast before they go off to church. Time is playing ALL KINDS of tricks. Now is then is now is then. Waxing and waning. Kathleen is buzzing around the kitchen, whipping up pancakes in her Sunday best, while Benny and I commisurate over coffee. It’s as if I walked through a wormhole from 1993 to 2018. I feel the same way in their presence as I did when I was 22.

“So, are you going to the reunion?,” Kathleen asks, effervescently as she does. ”I think I have to, seeing as I was professoring there this last term. If I can cobble the funds together; definitely,” I say, and we commence to listing all of our old classmates who we should pester to be there. “Do you think Dan Rauter would come?,” zips Kathleen. ”I’m not sure. I’d love to see him. Just the whole gang. That was one of the best things about being back at Wheaton, being able to see so many people who I hadn’t in so long. It was crazy. Yes, I really need to be there,” I say. Declarations are made, and names dropped. It’s so good. So bizarre. It was crazy to see so many people over the Spring term, slipping in from a faded memory to LIVE, flesh and blood reality, just like sitting here at Kathleen & Benny’s dinner table.

The house is bustling with activity as Kathleen and the kids are bolting out the door to make it to the Episcopal church. Benny and I are engrossed in a light theological conversation, and he asks Kathy to save him a seat as he will catch up soon. Benny has already been to one early morning service this morning, a Catholic mass, and he is explaining to me his slow conversion to Catholicism.

Unbeknownst to me, Benny had grown up in the Evangelical Free Church (a merger of the Norwegian and Swedish Free Churches in America from 1950), just as I had. It turns out we were both at the same Youth National Conference in Denver in 1988. “Did you know Big John?,” he asks. “Wow....there’s someone who I haven’t thought of in decades. Yeah, I even drew a cartoon picture of him,” I confirmed. Neither of us knew much of who Big John was or where he came from, but he was definitely memorable; a man in his 50’s or 60’s, who must have been on the spectrum. Who or which group was he connected with? If it raised any eyebrows at the time, I didn’t hear of it, nor did I hear anything ever happening. Today, I don’t think his presence would be acceptable, just cause, well, you know. But again, it didn’t cross my mind then and there was nothing untoward that happened to my knowledge.

Going to the National Conference was the hilt of summers for me back in high school; 2500 teenagers converging in one place for a week. Half of those were girls, and my hormones were racing around like atoms in the particle accelarator at FermiLab. It was a perfect stage on which to try out all my extroverted show off tricks; breakdancing, skateboarding, or just being able to make people laugh. It was heaven, and the fact that all of these kids were coming from a similar place in the church community meant that I didn’t have to feel awkward or edgy about being a pastor’s kid. And I remember, there was this one person at this very National Conference in Denver who left a massive and lasting impact on me, one which solidified the course I’ve been on to this day. His name was Fred.

Fred was a part of the youth group that came down from Rochester, Minnesota, and, in my opinion, that group was THE coolest bunch of kids I’d ever met in person. They were punk and New Wave, and while I had dabbled in the style a bit, this was the first time I had ever been around people actually like that. I mean, I had seen that style in John Hughes films and on MTV, but never in real life. Where we came from on the Eastside of Des Moines, it was all Classic Rock (when it was just known as Rock); feathered hair, Van Halen, combs in back pockets, and muscle cars. These kids from Rochester were all laid back skaters. There were so many firsts I witnessed coming from that group. I just wanted to hang with them. And in right there in the middle of all of them was this guy Fred.

The thing about Fred that blew me away was that he was plain, and at least physically, NOT cool, but every one of the other cooler-than-Alaska kids deferred to him with respect. Fred was fairly overweight, which where I came from was an instant social death sentence, but if it was something that he ever felt insecure about, it didn’t show. No, he was solid, sitting in their midst like a Buddha, normal as could be; the sun in a solar system set-up. And I thought....if this guy, who by all appearances should be a cast aside (in my limited, teenaged prejudiced opinion), is able to just be, cool with himself as he is and command the respect he does...then...why should I ever give a second thought to what other people think about me? And that set a tone for me, going forward. My early leanings toward non-conformity were absolutely crystalized meeting Fred. I think I may have written him once after that conference, but there was never a correspondence kept up. I don’t even remember his last name, but I do remember the impact he had on me. Thank you, Fred.

So, Benny comes out of the same soil that I did, which is just wild to me. Wilder still, is that his train has switched tracks toward Catholicism. As he explains it to me, it all comes down to doctrine. The Catholic church is less emphasis on one’s individual personal responsibility in attaining and keeping up one’s salvation. It’s already a done deal. Its all in the doctrine and the sacraments , allowing him to just go and worship, without having to strain and stretch to try to receive God’s favor. It’s already been done, he just needs to be present. Kinda like Fred, just being there, content in this space. He makes an appealing argument, and I am very far from being dogmatic about the different flavors of Christendom. “Do you think it’s the Protestant appointment to continually fracture into smaller and smaller shards of belief until it stops meaning anything?;” I ask. How many denominations can there be, each one believing their way and vision is the RIGHT way? Benny says this is part of why he started investigating Catholicism.

I remember back when I was in undergrad at Wheaton, one of the best parts was trying out these different flavors of Christian worship. There was the hippie church, Jesus People (JPUSA), in Chicago. Then there was the generic, big box non-denominational variety, like Wheaton Bible or College Church. And the Presbyterian churches. And the Episcopal churches, like Church of the Resurrection and St. Mark’s (where I had my first communion with REAL wine, not Welch’s Grape Juice). It was a blizzard of experimentation, investigation, and research into the style, views, and formats. Now, at Wheaton, being a college firmly rooted in evangelicalism, going to church was basically expected, which meant that Sunday lunch in the cafeteria was a natural place for assessments on whether or not others had gone to church, based on the clothing people wore. I am more than certain that several stressed out about this to the point where they would dress up for lunch if they hadn’t made it to church. I couldn’t be bothered with that. If there were ever a snide comment like, “Where’d you go to church, Kurt?”, I’d just say I had spent some time in The Word. Not only did it cut the snark, it was 100% true. I called my bed “The Word”, with a big sign on it stating its name. This became a problem for at least one of the underclassmen on my floor when I was an RA, borderline heretical. I do remember, Brendan. 😉

It is easy for me to listen to Benny describe his journey and thinking. We come out of the same place, and I can understand transformation and maturation far more than I can stagnation and samey-sameness. I live in Sweden now, have been for 16 years. True belief in Jesus, or any deity, is highly out of place and foreign; viewed with eye-narrowing suspicion. While Christianity is solidly a part of Sweden’s history and heritage, it has also always been lock and step with the government. For hundreds of years, it was mandatory for the people of Sweden to attend church. The church was in charge of keeping people in line, as well as for the country’s census and population control. It was not optional. Therefore, church in Sweden is not viewed as a place to receive any kind of true belief, but an institutional organism where tradition is upheld; in infant baptism, weddings, and funerals. This underlines my conviction that church and state should always remain separate. Belief should always be a choice, not compusory.

So, I don’t blame Swedes for being narrow-eyed, at all (I half-expect my Swedish friends to be reading this side-eyed, all this church talk, but I’m cool with that. This is my story, this is my song). Moving here was a cultural womp on a multitude of levels, including spiritually. I share this with the Hindus, Jains, Buddhists, Muslims, Jews and anyone else I’ve encountered who has moved here with a spiritual belief system from outside. It is a spiritual desert, with a fixation on the sensory and material here-and-now. Belief is dead wood, relegated to tradition or the sole domain of the sciences. But it is good to know, life still does thrive in the desert (if you’ve ever watched David Attenborough), it just looks and behaves differently than, say, a jungle or forest. I have adapted and I feel good about where I am, and I feel good about the people around me. I reject “us vs. them”. It’s just us. If I am viewed as a “them”, whether it’s true or not, so be it.

Benny and I wrap up. I go downstairs to pack, and do a couple “idiot checks” to make sure I am not leaving anything behind. And then we’re out the door, headed to our cars. “Benny! It’s so great to see you. Send me your address. I will send you some Swedish butter knives. You’ll see,” I bark in parting. And we head out, up the drive and onto the winding roads of Evergreen; Benny to join his family at the Episcopal church, and I, through the soaring cathedral of the Rockies and up to Boulder to see if I can meet up with Jolly Northrup.

I text Jolly... “Jolly!”

[let-love-run-red]

Dont Let Them Steal Your Voice

Ch 1

Tag List: @keithseabrook27 | 

If you’d like to be tagged just shoot me an ask loves

This Red Bloody Catastrophe had to be one of your all time favorite bands. The singer sounded like a demonic angel with how low and growly his voice got, the instrumentals were amazing, and the lyrics told a story.

The band had gotten you through so much in your life, which is why when you heard during their tour announcement that they were coming to your town you scraped together every spare cent a starving college student could spare. You were determined to get one of the five VIP tickets the band sold for every concert.

And you'd managed it. You had just enough to buy one of the first tickets. With that ticket you could get front row seats, meet the band, and get pictures and autographs from all of them. You already knew what you were going to have them sign. Your VIP ticket came with a plus one for the music portion of the concert, so you invited your friend who was almost as much of a TRBC fan as you were.

As the day neared you found yourself growing more and more anxious. You were actually going to meet your favorite band. You were going to be able to talk to the singer/songwriter and get a picture with him. You absolutely couldn't wait.

And on the night of the concert you were one of the first to arrive, your VIP ticket held tightly in hand as you waited for security to open the doors so people could find their seats. You and your friend were stood outside the door, talking about which songs you hoped they'd play. You were so involved in your discussion you didn't notice the tall man with the black bun push the door open and walk right past security.

"Ben when are you going to have security let people in?" Kylo yelled into the empty venue. "It's freezing out there and you've got a line around the block." Kylo finished as he jumped onto stage and walked around into the lounge to see his triplet, Ben Solo, asleep on the couch with his legs thrown over the arm and a spilled bowl of M&M's on his steadily moving chest.

Kylo let out an exhausted sigh and picked up a pillow, smacking Ben in the face with it before grabbing the bowl off his chest and setting it on the table. Ben shot upright with a snort and rubbed the last remnants of sleep from his eyes.

"Security, fans, seats, concert in an hour?" Kylo asked Ben. Ben groaned and leaned against the back of the couch, his eyes slowly drooping shut until the third triplet, Matt, rushed in and frantically screamed.

"Ben what are you doing?! Where are James and Taylor?" Matt cried, running over to where Ben stat and hauling him to his feet. Matt harshly patted Ben's cheek to wake him up before adjusting his glasses and turning to Kylo, shoving a black headset into his hands.

"You, voice, warm ups in the back room." Matt said hurriedly as he grabbed Ben's guitar and shoved it into his hands before ushering him out the door onto the stage to begin the sound check.

Kylo fitted the headset over his thick black hair, resting the headphones over his large ears and positioning the mic to sit comfortably in front of his mouth. He made his way to the soundproof back room before playing the recorded tracks of music and warming his voice up to the songs he'd written

Finally it was time for the concert to begin. Matt herded Kylo just offstage where he could see the band. His headset was linked to the same frequency as everyone else's earpiece, and Ben's Microphone was turned off. It was time for Kylo to pretend those cheers were for him. That he was the one on the posters, the one who's name they chanted, the one who mattered.

And he did. He pretended that he was on top of the world. He pretended people knew that Ben Solo's "Strikingly powerful voice" belonged in fact to Kylo Ren. The outcast twin with a scar and no friends.

"Kylo man! That was awesome!" Ben congratulated when Kylo joined them in the lounge before the meet and greets. Ben's hair was matted to his head from the sweat and Kylo could smell the lack of shower from where he stood across the room. Kylo was glad that with the way Matt had set it up they had time for showers before they met with fans. It also gave the fans a chance to take care of whatever they needed to.

"Thanks Benny." Kylo teased, walking past his brother to take his place on the couch. He was dressed in clean clothes and his wet hair smelled like a pine forest from the shampoo he used. He shoved Ben off the couch towards the door and the middle triplet begrudgingly trudged towards the dressing rooms in the back of the venue to take a quick shower. Matt walked in holding a clipboard with a pen sticking out of his blonde curls just above his right ear.

Matt looked up, counting who was in the room, checking the time on his watch, then flipped the sheet over to look at the one below it. "Ben's showering?" He asked without looking up. Matt flipped the top sheet back down and walked over to sit in the chair opposite the couch. Matt rested the clipboard on his lap as he patted down his pockets, a look of confusion crossing his features.

"Ear." Taylor said without lifting his head from the pillow where it rested. Matt made an 'ah' face and pulled the pen from above his ear, scribbling a few things on the bottom sheet of paper before flipping to another and checking a few boxes.

"Ok so we have a group of four then a group of one, because the venue screwed up with the times printed and I didn't get around to my check until it was too late to change them." Matt growled the last part to himself in an annoyed voice as he tapped the pen against his temple.

Kylo turned on the couch so his back was against one arm while he propped his feet up on the other arm. Matt watched as Kylo stared at the ceiling, clearing his throat occasionally. Ben suddenly pushed the door open. His hair was still dripping as he shook it out, flicking water everywhere.

"Hey Matty, thought you said we had an hour?" Ben asked as he closed the door. Matt shot to his feet, rushing to the door and opening it to see five people standing outside, trying to peer around the door frame. Matt quickly composed himself, smoothing a hand over his curled dyed hair.

"Can I ask what time your ticket says the meet and greet is?" Matt asked. One of the girls pulled out her ticket and handed it to Matt. He looked at the time, growling a few cuss words under his breath.

"One sec." He said before ducking back into the lounge and shutting the door. He took a deep breath, running his hands through his hair and shoving his glasses up his nose before looking to Ben, James, and Taylor.

"So we need a new website manager because as much as I adore her I'm firing Holly." Matt said in a scary calm voice. Kylo let out a chuckle as he stood from the couch and stretched, hearing his back crack from top to bottom as he did so.

"Other than that, their tickets say the meet and greet was supposed to start five minutes ago." Matt said. Ben settled himself on the couch between Taylor and James and nodded for Matt to open the door as Kylo stood off to the side in his shirt that said 'SECURITY' across the back of it.

Matt pulled the door open and gestured for the girls to come in. They all stepped in, except one. She showed Matt her ticket and he stepped out of the room with her, shutting the door behind her. Kylo leaned back to catch a glimpse of the (h/c) haired girl before the door shut completely.

"Oh my God I never thought I'd ever be able to see Ben Solo in person, let alone meet him!" One of the girls cried. Kylo looked at her and scoffed to himself. It looked like she'd never outgrown the early 2000's when punk took over the world. Her hair was the stereotypical overfluffed black with pink highlights and bright pink feathers. Her eyeliner wings curved out to her temples and her lips were painted bright blue to match her eyeshadow.

Ben kept his cool no matter what though. Whatever questions, whatever requests, Ben handled them all very professionally and with a smile on his face. Finally Matt stepped in, asking the girls to wrap it up. The girls all pulled out little things for the boys to sign, which they all gladly did, and Matt took phones to take pictures.

When the girls finally left Kylo saw the same girl from earlier standing just far enough away from the door that the giggling girls didn't notice her standing there. She slowly approached the door once the girls could no longer be heard and Matt gestured for her to come in.

"Guys this is (y/n). Her ticket is the only one that was printed with the right time." Matt explained. (y/n) glanced over to Ben, James, and Taylor, before her eyes wandered to Kylo and she froze. Kylo was used to the stares, his scar was in a pretty obvious place and people were naturally curious. Kylo was just about to open his mouth when the girl snapped her gaze back to Ben and sat hesitantly on the chair across from him.

Ben held his hand out for her to shake and she took it hesitantly. James and Taylor did the same, each introducing themselves as Kylo stood off to the side.

"So, I know who you guys are, and I've met Matt, but who's that?" She asked, gesturing to where Kylo stood. Kylo tilted his chin up slightly, not used to people asking about him. Something in him was a little offended that she didn't know who he was but he had to remind himself that Ben had his voice. Not himself. Ben glanced in Kylo's direction before waving his hand dismissively.

"Security detail. Here to make sure the girl's don't get too rowdy. Had one of em jump across a table at one point." Ben said with a smirk. The girl raised her eyebrow skeptically as she caught Kylo rolling his eyes. Kylo stepped forward and held out his hand to her.

"Kylo. I'm Bens' brother." He explained. The girl shook his hand and smiled.

The rest of the meeting went fairly smooth. Since it was only one small girl, seemingly non-threatening, Matt was comfortable leaving her there while he went to wrap up a few things with the venue, and likely to fire Wendy. Or Holly. Or Haley, whoever had screwed up the times.

But throughout the meeting Kylo couldn't help but be glad Holly had screwed up the times. He liked watching the way she acted. She seemed quiet and unassuming, but the way she held herself said she held secrets and knowledge past her years. She spoke lightly and seemed to float above any surface she sat or stood on, but Kylo could could see that she had the weight of her own world on her shoulders. This drew him to her in a way he'd never felt before.

Matt finally returned, his blonde hair pushed back awkwardly likely from him running his hands through it in frustration.

"Alright, I'm so sorry (y/n) but we've gotta be going, I managed to piss off the owner somehow." Matt muttered the last part. (y/n) stood up and handed Matt her phone to take pictures with. She posed with Ben, James, and Taylor, before suddenly breaking the pose and motioning for Kylo to join them.

"C'mon Kylo, you sat and listened to me rant too." She said with an airy laugh as Kylo walked over to the group and stood behind them all. She pulled him down to her level and did the same with Ben, looping an arm around each of their shoulders. "Smile!" She cried as Matt took a picture. She had the band sign a T-shirt before she waved goodbye to everyone and walked out of the lounge. Matt shut the door and turned to the group with a sigh.

"No, no no not today Baby please." You begged your precious car. You loved it with all your heart, but it had a severe attitude problem. It was a Prius, meaning it was a push button start, but if the battery in your key was running low it wouldn't sense it. And today was one of those days.

You tried one more time, hearing the high pitched screech the car let out in protest of not sensing the key. You sighed and let your head fall onto the steering wheel with a muttered 'asshole' to the car. You then sat up and patted the dash before pulling out your phone and trying to call your friend Bailee. Your phone didn't take too kindly to being trapped in the car however, so you were forced to get out and stand alone in the pitch black of night.

As you stepped away from your car, not realizing the key was still in the cupholder, a gust of wind blew the door shut. The door that was still locked from when you'd initially gotten in. You slipped your phone in your pocket and rushed back to the car, tugging on the handle but only hearing the dull 'kerthunk' every time you pulled.

You leaned your head against the door with a heavy sigh and moved to sit on the hood as you pulled your phone out again to call Bailee. Only to see that it was at 5 percent and refused to make or receive any calls. You cursed yourself for not putting your power bank in your bag before you left. You were just about to slide off the hood and walk back into the venue when the lights from the building turned off.

"Shit." You muttered. You sat on the hood of your car for another few minutes, judging whether you could see well enough to run for the door when you heard footsteps on the asphalt of the parking lot. You whipped around to look for the source but couldn't see more than two feet in any direction. You slowly slid closer to the windshield, puling your knees to your chest and using your feet to push you back.

The footsteps stayed steady, pausing for about ten seconds between each one, each step slowly getting louder and closer to where you sat. You reached for where your keys usually sat in you pocket before you remembered them in the car. Your head snapped to your right when you thought you saw a flicker of movement at backside of the front passenger door.

Suddenly, before you could process what was happening, a man had jumped forward and had you by the throat. You tried to scream but his attack had knocked the breath out of you. The man dragged you off the hood and pinned you against the car before moving his hand from your throat to your hair to lean into your neck. He took a deep sniff and let out a hot breath that smelled of fish.

"Help!" You screamed. He slapped a hand across your face and hissed at you to be quiet as he fumbled with the jacket you were wearing, trying to pull it off without letting you away from the car. You continued screaming, hoping somebody would help you, when a beam of light shone across the man's face. He was suddenly dragged away and you heard sounds of a scuffle just out of the tunnel of light from the flashlight that now lay on the ground next to your face.

You quickly picked up the flashlight, shining it where the sounds were coming from. The only thing you got to see was a dirty looking man running away from you as fast as he could. Your savior turned around, blood dripping from his nose and scratch marks on the right side of his face to match the scar on the left.

"Kylo," You breathed, rushing towards him and clinging to him as tightly as you could. He slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulders, rubbing your back comfortingly as you took deep shaky breaths to calm yourself.

"Kid I usually hate to be the voice of reason, but why aren't you in the car?" Kylo questioned. You pulled away and wiped your hands over your face with another sigh. You seemed to be doing a lot of sighing that night.

"It wouldn't start, so when I tried to get out and call my friend because for some reason the car blocks signal, the wind blew the door shut and it was locked. My phone died." You said with a breath. Kylo leaned against your car, sweeping the flashlight across the dark parking lot.

"Alright kid, come with me. We'll drop you off at home." Kylo said, gently taking your hand and pulling you with him as he crossed the dark parking lot. You glanced back at your car. It seemed to light up as a safe island as it reflected the little light of the building across the road.

As you saw the figure of someone on the far side of your car, the lights of the building went out and your car was plunged into darkness, leaving only you and Kylo venturing across the darkness with nothing but a flashlight and each other.

[anavoliselenu]

blood chapter 16

I sat on the sofa in front of the window in the family room that I used to do my homework in.

The snow was falling around the Forks landscape, making it feel like I was in a movie. There were only a couple houses on Charlie's street so there was basically nothing but woods around us. Each tree was slowly being blanketed in white. I used to like all of the powdered covered forests but now, those tall trees turned into the giant skyscrapers of Chicago in my mind.

I missed Justin. I missed the city. I missed everyone.

I was happy to be home, that was for sure, but I could only take Forks for so long. This place was boring the hell out of me. Angela and Ben had gone on a trip with their families to California and Charlie suddenly had a rush of work over the holidays, so I basically only saw him on Christmas. Only Mike had been around, and I was avoiding him like the plague.

He was calling almost twice a day and even knocked on the door a couple of days ago. After that first initial meeting to tell him that whatever we had was ending, I stopped talking to him completely. He was one of those guys who could get kind of obsessive. I just never noticed it before. He was starting to give up, though, and I told him if we couldn't just be friends, then I was going to have to cut him off completely.

So, without my friends and my father and my Justin, I was sitting here on the couch. Thankfully, I had books, lots of books that I received for Christmas. They were entertaining me as well as the new laptop that I was beginning to fall in love with.

That being said, I was still bored. I was sitting here in this house like an old spinster. It was a wonder that I hadn't befriended a cat by now and claimed him as my child.

Yesterday was New Years, and it was my first one with an actual boyfriend that I loved. Where was my kiss? Hell, where was my iChat message? Justin hadn't called me all day. I was okay with that because I knew he was probably busy trying to conquer surfing again, but I would have hoped that he at least left me some kind of sign that he was thinking about me.

I called him on several occasions and his icon was illuminated on the computer, so I knew it was powered up. He just didn't answer. That slightly worried me, but I didn't let my strange feelings get into my head.

I sighed again as I looked out of the window at the falling snow and squinted into the distance at the car across the street. A small smile crept onto my face when I saw Benny sitting there bobbing his head to some music.

"Always watching out," I said to myself. I took a long gulp of the hot chocolate I was drinking, and then put it on the windowsill.

I quickly got up from my seat, letting my blanket fall to the floor and went into the kitchen. I pulled out a couple packets of hot chocolate and decided to make it the old fashioned way. I put a pot of water on the old stove and poured five packets of chocolate powder into five separate thermoses that we had in the cabinet. I had to stand on the counter to get the milk chocolate chips from the top shelf so that I could put a few in each cup as well.

When the water was boiling, I poured the appropriate amount into the thermoses, melting the powder and chips at the same time. I stirred them until they were all dissolved.

I smiled at the thought of Renee doing the same thing for me every Christmas break. Charlie even had his own version that consisted of scalding hot water and too much chocolate. God bless him.

I added some cream to the steaming concoctions and did a final stir before putting the five cups into a lunchbox. I stuffed my feet in some boots and threw on a jacket. I was almost out of the door before I remembered how Charlie took his hot chocolate and wondered if the bodyguards would like theirs the same way. I guessed yes.

I went out into the blistering cold and was thankful that there wasn't a blizzard as I stomped through the snow covered lawn. It wasn't that deep, so I made it easily over the car. Benny rolled down the window with a smile, and I noticed three other men stuffed in there with him.

"Hello, Miss Swan. Are you having a nice holiday?" Benny asked.

"Yes, thank you. I was wondering if you guys were cold." I unzipped the lunchbox and handed him the warm thermoses. He passed them around the car.

"Thank you," he replied enthusiastically.

I watched as the big men in the car opened the tops and sniffed at them. They kept their smiles up, but I could see the apprehension in their eyes.

I took out the small bottle of bourbon from my jacket and handed it to Benny. "Not too much. You're on the job," I laughed.

"Thank you," he sighed happily and poured a liberal amount into his cup before passing it on.

"It's freezing out here. You guys are crazy." I bundled up.

"We would be crazier to disobey orders." He sipped his hot chocolate.

"Well, have a good rest of the day. The sun's supposed to be out soon." I looked up to the dark, gray clouds.

"I don't think I've seen the sun since I've been in this town. What's up with that?" he asked.

"Welcome to Forks." I held up my hands and walked backwards and waved. He closed the window tightly, and then went back to bobbing his head.

I shut and locked the door, waiting for the day to truly begin.

I checked my laptop; still no call from Justin. I sat on the couch, turned on the TV for background music and dove into reading a copy of Dante's Inferno. I know, pretty morbid stuff for the holidays, but I couldn't help it. Plus, it was a first edition. It was so rare that I didn't even want to think about how much Justin paid for it.

I must have been reading for hours because by the time I looked up, it was darker outside. I looked around like I was in some alternate universe. My stomach wasn't growling, and I didn't feel sleepy. The sun in the sky was just kind of high, but I looked at the clock and saw that it already read five.

"Wow, that was interesting." I closed my book and stretched.

Charlie would be home in about an hour, so I decided to get up and make him something to eat. We still had leftovers from Christmas, but I knew he was getting tired of it. I started pulling things out to make Grandma Swan's famous beef stroganoff.

I had the pasta boiling, the onions and vegetables sauteing and got the beef diced up.

There was a knock on the door and I looked around again, trying to figure out who was coming over so late in the afternoon.

"Who is it?" I called and stood on my toes to see through the peep hole.

"Justin," a deep voice replied.

I could see his face, magnified from the mirror in the door and my mouth hit the floor. A massive smile appeared on my face when I opened the door.

Justin was standing there with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed. There was snow in his hair, and I almost died from how gorgeous he looked.

I shamelessly threw myself at him and wrapped my arms around his neck, almost knocking us both off of the porch.

"What are you doing here?" I buried my face in his neck and took a deep breath. It was pathetic, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"I needed to see you." His strong arms wrapped around my waist tightly, almost to the point where I couldn't breathe. Something about his voice sounded cracked and dry.

"You're here," I said lamely, like it wasn't obvious.

"Yeah," he sighed. I felt his lips on the side of my head.

He set me back down, and I backed away with an enormous smile on my face that faded when I realized what situation we were truly in.

"Wait, did anyone see you? Why are you here?" I looked around nervously.

"I had to come." He ducked his head and kicked a plank on the porch.

"Well, I'm glad you did, but you really shouldn't have. You know we're going to get in a shit load of trouble." I pulled him inside quickly and did another survey outside. It was dead, but I did notice an impressive, black Lamborghini in the spot where Charlie normally parked his cruiser.

Only Justin.

I shut and locked the door before standing in front of Justin in the hallway.

"I missed you," I exhaled, "and I know that sounds clingy or whatever, but…"

He painfully smiled. "I missed you, too, Selena. It's not clingy."

"Look at you, getting all emotional on me." I went up to him for a kiss.

Our lips touched, and I felt like I could breathe for the first time in a long time.

His hands went to my hips and mine went into his hair, pulling him closer. Our tongues didn't wait to be asked as they thrashed against each other, the evidence of our separation just pushing us that much further.

I was forced against the wall and felt his hand gravitate towards my thigh before he lifted it around his waist. The sounds of our kisses were fantastic, and the taste of him after two weeks was incredible. I didn't bother not moaning or breathing harshly, because I couldn't help it.

Justin's lips took my neck with a harshness that I hadn't felt in God knows how long, and I felt that familiar tingle in between my legs as he pushed himself up against my body and pressed into me.

"Justin…" I panted.

I couldn't say more because his lips were on mine again, devouring me with a pent up energy that I had been dying for. There was a feral vigor to his kiss, and I soaked up everything I could.

The sound of a crashing frame brought me out of my lustful bubble.

"Justin, we have to slow down," I gasped and pushed him back, letting my leg drop to the floor.

"Oh…" He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I didn't even realize…"

I picked up the picture off of the floor that had shattered when it fell from the wall. It was a photograph of me when I was toothless and in pigtails. I thought it was appropriate that it be set aside while Justin was here.

"What are you doing here?" I asked again and took his hand, leading him into the kitchen. "You need to leave in about fifteen minutes, by the way."

"I just needed to come." He sighed and his cheeks puffed out when he let his air go. "This is… nice." He looked around the house.

"It's modest," I corrected him. "Charlie's a modest man."

"Yeah." He kept his head down.

That was when I noticed how tired he looked. His skin was sun kissed with a slight tan that I had never seen on him before. It was hot. He was dressed casually—for him—in dress pants and a regular button up. He took off his heavy pea coat and set it on the back of a chair.

"Are you hungry?" I asked and dumped the pasta into the pan, mixing it with the sauce that had been bubbling.

"Not really." He shrugged.

He sat at the table and let out more deep breaths. I knew this kind of Justin.

There was something on his mind that he didn't want to tell me. I was slightly scared of what he had to say. Justin Selena never made a trip without a purpose, especially not all the way across the country from a beachside vacation in the Bahamas. I didn't care how much he missed me.

"Charlie will be home soon," I said as I finished making the meal, turning off the stove.

"Really? I thought I could miss him."

"How long do you plan on staying?"

"Not long." He looked at me and sadly smiled.

"Are you sure you're not hungry or thirsty? Nothing?" I took his hand again, this time pulling him into the family room.

"No, I'm fine." His eyes darted throughout the room. "I see you've been reading."

"Yeah, Dante's Inferno is deep stuff." I sat down on the sofa. "I should be scared that you're here, but I'm just too excited."

He nodded. "I know I didn't call yesterday. I was… dealing with some stuff."

"Is everything alright?" I asked hesitantly.

"Yeah, it's fine. I just wanted to see you."

"You're a terrible liar all of a sudden," I laughed.

"Why would you assume something's wrong?" Justin licked his lips.

"Come on, you didn't pack up and take a plane all the way here for nothing. Tell me what's going on. Is it all okay?"

"Not really," Justin said, more like a question, and his forehead scrunched in thought.

"What is it?" My voice was starting to crack.

"Uh…"

There was a loud pounding at the door that jolted me back to reality. My heart started beating really quickly, and I almost fell off of the couch.

I took a quick peak outside and exhaled in relief when I didn't see Charlie's car. Instead, I saw Mike's.

"Don't move." I pointed at Justin. "I mean it."

"Who is it?" He stood up.

"No one. Just sit there until I come back." I pushed him back down.

He grumbled but nodded and crossed his arms.

I went to the door and opened it cautiously to reveal Mike's bright face.

"Hey, Selena." He smiled.

"What are you doing here?" I leaned against the door jamb, so he didn't think it was okay for him to come inside.

"I just thought it would be fun if you came out ice skating tonight. Everyone's going."

"Everyone?" I asked.

"Yeah, well, not Ben and Angela obviously, but a lot of kids from high school." He pointed behind him. "Whose Lambo is that? It's hot."

"No one's, and I can't go," I answered.

"Why not? You haven't been out of the house since you got here." He pouted playfully. "Come on, get your coat."

"No, Mike," I said more firmly. "I'm dealing with some things and I don't want o go tonight."

He sighed in a frustrated way. "I just don't get you, Selena."

"Why? I'm the same me."

"No, you're not. You've changed so much since you left. We used to have so much fun."

"And I told you why we couldn't do that anymore. I have a boyfriend." I shrugged. "Sorry. I tried to be just friends, but you didn't like that very much."

"I was being friendly," he said innocently.

"We watched a movie last week, and you had your hand on my leg the whole time. No matter how much I pushed you away, you kept trying." I tried to shut the door.

He stopped me. "Okay, listen. I'm sorry. I just didn't think things were going to change this much. You said you were going to call and email, but I got nothing for our months."

"A phone and computer work both ways, Mike. I'm over explaining things to you. Goodbye."

"You turned into such a bitch," he said loudly. "I can't stand you anymore and everyone was saying that you were going to change, but I always defended you. I was convinced that the big city wasn't going to screw up my best friend."

"Mike, go home." I didn't even bother care to speak with him anymore.

He darkly laughed. "Such a bitch, just like everyone said."

"What did you just say?" I heard Justin's voice come from behind me. His tone was so furious, I started to shake.

I stepped outside and shut the door, suddenly over the whole "you're a bitch thing". Mike's safety was in danger.

"You need to leave." I started pushing him off of the porch.

"I'm not going anywhere. I want you to come out tonight," he pleaded.

"Go home, Mike. Now. I'm serious," I stressed, and I heard the door open behind me. "Get in your car and go."

"Who the fuck is that?" Mike asked.

I was now focusing my efforts on Justin because I didn't need a fight in my front yard.

"Go back inside," I told Justin.

"What the hell did you just say?" Justin bypassed me and stood on the stairs, two above Mike.

"I don't know who you are, but you better get out of my face."

"Did you just call her a bitch?" he snarled.

"So what if I did? Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter who I am, but you need to think very about what you say next. I won't put up with you speaking to her that way."

"Selena, who the fuck is this?" Mike asked again.

"Just go home." I stood in between them. "Please, Charlie's going to be here soon and I don't want him to arrest you both if something happens."

"Come out with us." Mike started pulling me off of the porch, but I was snatched back so quickly that I almost slipped on the ice.

Justin had Mike by the collar of his jacket and had a massive gun pointed right under his chin.

"Justin, stop it." I tried to pull him off. "Don't do anything stupid."

Mike was shivering, and I was pretty damn sure it wasn't from the cold.

"You need to leave right now." Justin's eyes were so fierce and deadly, I was seriously scared for everyone's safety. I looked across the street, but Benny's car wasn't there anymore.

"Dude, what the hell?" Mike tried to back away, but Justin had a firm hold on him.

"If I ever see you put your hands on her again, I will kill you. If you so much as breathe within two feet of her, I will kill you. If you even think of looking at her, I will kill you. If you see her on the same side of the street, I want you to cross it so that you won't be tempted to speak. Do I make myself clear?" Justin demanded.

Mike nodded solemnly, and Justin pushed him away.

"I don't want to see you again." he put his gun back in his belt and stomped back up the stairs.

"What the hell?" Mike stumbled backwards. "Is that the kind of trash you're dating?"

"Mike, just go home and I'm sorry about all of this." I tried to smooth things over.

"I was right. You have turned into a real bitch." He wiped his lip that had split, and his shaking hands pulled out his keys. He dropped them a couple of times.

I went back inside, not wanting to see him pathetically try to gain his bearings.

Had I really changed that much? Had I become the bitch that everyone claimed I was?

I stayed in the hall and calmed my breathing. I didn't hear his car starting, but I wasn't really paying attention.

I ran a hand through my hair and sighed heavily before going back into the family room.

"Justin?" I looked around. He wasn't there.

There was a cold breeze that flowed around me, and I saw that the window on the other side of the room was opened.

"Shit," I hissed when I saw Justin pumping Mike with his fists outside.

I ran and yanked the door opened but couldn't speak as I saw the splattering of blood over the pristine white snow on the yard.

I didn't really know what to do as I watched Justin manhandle my former best friend like he was a ragdoll. They were rolling around on the ground, but it was nothing like the last fight I had seen Justin in. This was purely his win. I just gaped at the blood that was pouring from Mike's face.

"Justin, get off of him." I rushed towards them and grabbed a hold of Justin's shirt.

He came up easier than I thought, and I backed him up. "What is wrong with you?" I was tempted to slap some sense into him.

"I warned him." Justin breathed heavily, his face red from the cold and adrenalin. "I fucking warned him."

"You're insane, man." Mike was nursing his busted up face that looked like a piece of meat. "What the hell kind of shit do you hang out with, Selena?"

"I'm sorry, Mike." I was holding Justin back, but if he wanted to get away from me, he could.

"Don't apologize to him," Justin growled. "He deserves to be dead."

"Justin, stop it."

"I'm calling the police." Mike whimpered.

"Go ahead. I've never been afraid of the cops. Besides, do you really think Charlie would arrest me?" Justin got out of my hold and kicked Mike in the ribs. I heard a crack, and my body flinched from thinking about it.

This time, Mike decided to get ballsy and grabbed Justin's leg, pulling him to the ground to lay a fist into his jaw.

"Stop it." I tried to break them up, but they were rolling away from me in the snow. I was surprised that no one had come outside yet.

"Justin, go inside." I yanked him up and pushed him hard. "Stop it," I said again and held his face in my hands. "Listen to me; don't do anything crazy. Go back inside."

The heat from Justin's harsh breaths blew fog into my face, and he calmed down after a couple of seconds. His skin had minimal scars, and it looked like he might have had a small fall from a bike. He nodded and then fixed his shirt, going back up the porch steps. I heard the door slam. I was so caught up in everything that I could barely think straight.

I got on the ground, the snow melting into my jeans. Mike was trying to get up but wasn't doing a very good job. His face was bloodied to the point that I couldn't even look at him. He was swollen, beaten, bruised, cut up, and bleeding profusely.

"I'm so sorry." I touched his shoulder, and he flinched dramatically.

"I'm fine." His voice quivered. "I'm going home." He stood up painfully, and I followed him to his car.

I didn't really know what to say, so I just stood there and watched as he clumsily drove off down the street.

I shuffled my feet through the sludgy snow and stomped onto the porch.

Justin was standing in the hallway, leaning against the wall with a hard look on his face.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I didn't bother hiding my anger.

Justin shrugged. "He called you a bitch."

"So you attacked him? You can't do that, Justin."

"Yes, I can. I won't allow him talking to you that way."

"You won't allow him?" I repeated his words. "This is why you should have never came. I knew something like this was going to happen."

"I'm not sorry," he replied nonchalantly.

"Do you even feel bad?" I threw my hands up.

"Do I ever?"

"No, you don't," I sighed and knew that there was no changing him.

"He can't talk to you that way. "

"Let me see your hands," I said, "and thank you for defending me. That was sweet in a twisted way."

Justin gave them to me. They were bloody and raw, but nothing too serious.

"You shouldn't have come if you were going to beat everyone up. This is a small town, Justin. This is going to be news before dinner."

"I don't care."

"But I do. This is my home. I've known these people since I was little. You can't go pounding my friends."

"He wasn't your friend."

"Maybe not, but you can't beat up everyone who calls me a bitch."

"That's why I'm here." His lip twitched.

"Come into the kitchen." I went to get the salt and plugged up the sink, just as I had done with Alec a couple months back.

He stuck his hands under the hot water and winced from the temperature, but didn't say anything. There wasn't a stray string from his clothes, and his hair was only slightly more wild than normal.

I dumped the salt in and started to run my fingers lightly over Justin's knuckles. I didn't say anything as I massaged his hands with mine, and I felt his breath close to the skin of my face.

"Thank you," he muttered.

"I'm glad you came, but you shouldn't have. We're going to be in a lot of trouble."

"I don't care. I had to see you."

"I'm going to back in Chicago in four days. You couldn't wait that long?"

"No," he sighed, "I have something to tell you."

"I figured." I continued to rub the saltwater over his hands. "Did someone die?" I questioned, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"No."

I nodded. "Is it bad?"

"Yes."

"Okay, tell me." I didn't look at him.

Justin stayed silent for a long time, barely breathing. It must have been a full minute before he said something again.

"I did something bad." His voice was low and stressed.

My heart beat sped up, just imagining what he could be talking about. There were only a couple of things that I could come up with, but I didn't want to believe them.

"You have to promise me that you'll let me talk before you fly off the handle," he begged.

"Just tell me, Justin." My small fingers wrapped around his under the cloudy water.

"I kissed someone." He spoke firmly, but it still managed to be so quiet that I almost didn't hear it.

My hands shook and my breathing came harsher. "Kissed… someone?"

"Yes. A woman… while I was in the Bahamas."

"Oh, was she nice?" I asked stupidly, not wanting to hear the story.

"No, she wasn't nice. I… I know this isn't an excuse, but I was hopped up on pain pills and had a couple of shots. She was just there, in the bar, and I walked away."

"Really?" I took my hands out of the water and dried them off.

"Yes, you have to believe me. I walked away… at first and I went back to the house, but I guess she followed me. I was trying to ignore her, and then she… just kissed me."

I always knew in the back of my mind that there was the chance that this would happen. How long did I think he could pretend with me?

"What happened after that?" I turned to him, still seemingly unaffected because I didn't know the whole story. Underneath the surface, though, I was fuming.

"I let her kiss me." Justin hung his head. "I let her take it that far and I… liked it. My mind was so messed up, and I got confused."

"That's a weak excuse, Justin," I snarled, throwing the dishtowel at him. "How far did it go?"

"There was… some heavy touching." He raised his eyes to meet mine; they held a deep level of sadness that I had never seen before.

"Heavy touching? Did she have nice boobs?"

He didn't reply.

"Did you enjoy her hands on you?"

Once again, he stayed silent.

"Get out of my house." I walked away from him, out of the kitchen and wanted to make my way to my room.

He followed me. "Selena, I'm sorry. You have to understand that she meant nothing."

"If she didn't mean anything then you wouldn't have done anything with her."

"Look, I'm being the man here and I'm telling you what I did. I'm trying to not let secrets eat us up and I think I deserve…"

"I don't give a shit." I spun around. "I trusted you; I've always trusted you, and I'm actually surprised that this hasn't happened before. Or has it?"

"No, this is the first time and I didn't know what was happening." He scrambled for an excuse.

"I don't even know what to say," I replied truthfully. "I should be mad as hell. I am mad as hell, but on some level, I knew that this would happen. I knew you would do something like this. How could you not? Nothing in your past gave me the slightest inkling that you would stay faithful."

"It was just a kiss, and I was drugged." he muttered as I started up the stairs.

"Just a kiss? Is that what you just said?"

"Comparatively, it could have been worse."

"You're unbelievable. You shove a gun down someone's throat if they even look at me wrong and you expect me to be forgiving after you hooked up with some beach bunny?"

"I never meant for this to happen. It was just a kiss."

"What if I just had a kiss with Mike or… James or someone?"

"I won't let you." His eyes bore into mine.

"You won't let me?" I shouted. "Unbelievable."

"I know I messed up. I just need you to tell me what to do," he sighed.

"You don't even know what to say, do you?" I was slightly shocked. "You've never cared about anyone like you have me. I can see it and with anyone else, you could just do whatever you want and get away with it. I'm not one of your whores. You remember when you told me that? You can't do what you want with me. I trusted you." My blood was boiling. I was so mad that I wanted to start a revolution or something insane like that. I couldn't even see straight.

"But you have to admit that I've been trying. This is all new to me…"

I cut him off, "That's bullshit. You're an adult. You know the difference between right and wrong. You lasted a grand total five months."

"I came here to tell you. I could have kept this to myself for the rest of my life and never said one word."

"Then why did you?" I felt the tears sting my eyes, but I wasn't going to let them fall in front of him.

"Why did I what?"

"Why did you tell me?"

He looked at me, stunned for second. "I… I don't know."

"You're still the same old Justin."

"Look, Selena, I had some medication in my system. It wasn't entirely my fault."

"So…you're not going to take blame for anything."

"Well, yes, but I wasn't in my right mind."

I nodded, "I know and that's what makes me feel weary, because you're always drinking or smoking something. When is your mind ever right? You're an adult. You should have known not to mix drinks and fucking medication. That was your fault."

"I know you're upset but I stopped things when I realized what I was doing."

"I trusted you Justin and I love you. I still do and I realize that you made a mistake, but I just need some time to think so could you please leave?" I closed my eyes to stop the tears.

"We need to talk about this." Justin stopped me from going up the stairs.

"I don't want to talk to you." I ripped my hand from his.

"Why? Every time I want to talk, you just shut down. We need to scream this out or nothing is going to get solved. I said I'm sorry. What more do you want?" he shouted.

"Leave me alone. Get out of my house!"

"I'm trying to be the better person here. Please just sit and listen to what I have to say."

"I have and I don't want you hear anymore. You're an arrogant, conceited, egotistical man whore and I don't want to ever see you again."

Justin was about to say something else, but a baritone throat cleared itself in the doorway. Justin and I both turned to see Charlie standing there with a confused look.

"Selena." He greeted normally but was looking at Justin. "Who's your friend?"

"No one. He was just leaving." I crossed my arms.

"No, I wasn't." Justin argued and my eyes bugged out when he walked up to Charlie. "Chief Swan, it's nice to meet you. I'm Justin Masen, Selena's boyfriend." The name thing was a lie, but I wasn't even thinking correctly to notice that the Police Chief was meeting the Mafia Prince.

"He's not my boyfriend," I snapped.

Charlie looked between us and then shook Justin's hand. "It's nice to meet the man I've heard nothing about."

"He's a jackass." I was starting to get very annoyed and my immature, eighteen year-old self just wanted to cry my eyes out. I didn't want to leave those two alone though. Who knew what would happen?

"Son, I'm going to have to ask you to leave." Charlie spoke to Justin. "It's obvious that my daughter doesn't want you here and I'm sorry, but she comes first."

Justin's lips meshed into a hard line, but he nodded. He turned back to me and was going to say something.

"I don't want to hear it, Justin," I interrupted him.

"Are we breaking up?"

As much as I wanted to say "no", I couldn't. But I couldn't bring myself to say "yes", either. My whole mind was a grumbled mess, and I couldn't even think straight. Instead of answering him, I flew up the stairs and didn't look back.

From my window, five minutes later, I saw Justin get into his black sports car and speed off down the snow covered roads.

That night, I shed my first tears over a boy since my freshman year in high school. Unlike that time, when the next morning came, I wasn't better, and I wasn't over it.

Justin had cheated on me.

I know that to some people I might seem overly dramatic and make mountains out of molehills, but I felt cheated on. I felt betrayed and lied to. He had taken what faith I had in him and crushed it underneath his fine, Italian loafers. Now what was I supposed to do? Forgive him?

The thing that made me so mad was that I had already forgiven him. The minute he told me, my body just automatically started making excuses and justifications for his actions like I always did. This time, he was in the wrong and even though it was just a kiss with another woman, it was still a crack in what we had. the kiss was forgivable, the reasoning behind it wasn't. Maybe that doesn't make any sense, but in my mind I was trying to work things out. I wasn't going to just roll over this time and coddle Justin because he made a mistake.

All throughout that night and the next morning, I was crying over a love that I knew would never last. Even from the start of this, I figured that Justin would be the one to flake first. He wasn't made for this. Could I blame him for trying?

Hell yes, I could.

I wasn't that girl who just got into a relationship because the guy looked nice. I was an all-in type of girl. I wore my heart on my sleeve and this hurt. Justin hurt me; that was all there was to it. I hated that it affected me so horribly. I loved him; I still did, even with all his mistakes and screw ups. If I got past all of those, could I just let him slip by again?

I wanted to, I really did, but I was literally sick to my stomach. How could he do this to me? I thought he loved me.

Justin said something about alcohol and pain pills, but that wasn't an excuse. He had to stop making excuses. He did this; not his drinking. And if I forgave him now, what would happen if he did the same thing again? He was a creature of habit, and it was only a matter of time before he did something like this. We'd lasted a total of five months.

I didn't know what was going to happen, and I think I was still too pissed to think of the future. I just needed to breathe and take things slow in my head. This wasn't some high school crush. I was in love with Justin, deeply in love. That was probably why this hurt so badly. I didn't think I was going to break up with him. I loved him too much to do that, but I certainly needed some space and lots of it.

Thankfully, Charlie left me alone all night. That was the good thing about my father; he never pried. I didn't think I could explain things to him right now.

When I couldn't think anymore, I decided that it was time to get up. The clock on my nightstand read noon.

My mouth was dry, my throat was aching from crying, my eyes were throbbing, and my pulse was slow and loud in my ears.

I sat up and looked around my room. How could it be that just twenty-four hours ago, I was happily thinking about being reunited with Justin and now, all I could think about was getting as far away from him as possible? I was tempted to even stay here next semester. Who needs Chicago?

I stood in the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess and there were deep bags under my eyes that made me look ten years older.

After I brushed my teeth and threw some water over my pale face, I decided that it was time to make myself known to the world.

I took several deep breathes in the hallway and was hit in the nose by what smelled like perfume. I actually had to cough a couple of times.

I started downstairs and when I reached the bottom step, my mouth hung open. It seemed like it was always hanging open these days.

The whole house-the kitchen, the hallways, the family room-every free space was filled with purple flowers in vases. They were massive bushels of small shaped plants and there must have been hundreds.

Charlie was running around the family room, grumbling to himself, but then noticed me. "Oh, good. You're up. Now you can explain to me why there's been a delivery man at door every half hour since four, bringing you flowers."

"These are all for me?" I asked lamely and stepped into the room.

"Yes, Selena. My house is filled with plants. I can't even walk." Charlie tripped over a vase and then kicked it. The lines of his face were more defined and it was turning an off shade of red.

"Did Justin send these?" I almost shouted.

He thought he could buy me off with flowers like he always did?

"I don't know. There's no name, but there are all these damn cards." He threw some pieces of paper in the air. "They're all in Italian. I can't stand this. I can't even breathe correctly."

"Tell the deliveryman to stop sending them." I went to the first vase I saw and pulled out the card. Just like Charlie said, the line of scripture was in Italian, so I couldn't understand it.

"I can't. He was paid to keep sending them for the next twenty four hours, every half hour. There's no more room."

I looked around and didn't know what to grab first.

The doorbell rang, and I stopped in my tracks.

"There goes another one." Charlie pulled out the shotgun he stashed in the closet and cocked it with one hand. "This is getting ridiculous."

I chased after him towards the door, and he ripped it open.

"What?" He growled at the scared looking deliveryman.

"Look, dude. I told you the first time that I can't just not deliver them. It's my job."

"I don't want any more. Leave them outside."

"No, I was told to bring them inside."

"I'll have you arrested." Charlie spoke with an authoritative tone and showed off the impressive gun he was wielding.

"Call my manger, but until he tells me to stop, you'll be getting flowers." He handed the next batch to Charlie who took them with a snarl and slammed the door.

I raced outside so that I could catch the deliveryman. "Excuse me." I covered myself up. "Can you just send these flowers somewhere else? They're all for me."

"And where do you think they should go?" The man shivered from the cold.

"Uh… the retirement home down the street. Take them over there. I think my dad might shoot up this whole town if he gets another bushel."

"I think I can do that since they are for you." He rolled his eyes. "Peace."

"Wait." I stopped him. "What kind of flowers are they?"

"Hyacinth." He answered. "Someone must have fucked up."

"Why do you say that?"

"Purple hyacinth means 'I'm sorry'."

"Oh, well, thank you."

"No problem."

I ran back inside where Charlie was still grumbling.

"Selena, I think we need to have a talk. Who is this boy?"

"A friend." I went into the kitchen where more flowers were sitting, and I actually had to step over a couple vases on the floor.

"A friend? I'm not stupid Selena. He said he was your boyfriend."

"He was lying. I don't have a boyfriend."

"Well whoever this guy is, he must be very sorry because all of this is a little much, don't you think?"

"No, I don't think." I spun around. "He hurt me!"

"Whoa." Charlie held his hands up. "Calm down. What did he do?"

I took a deep breath to calm myself before I spoke again. "It doesn't matter."

"This is very awkward for me. I don't really know what to say, but I don't like this guy."

"You don't know him."

"I don't have to know him. How old is he?"

"Twenty-one," I lied.

Charlie's forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows shot up. "I don't like that. You can't see him," he said finally.

"Wasn't planning on seeing him for a while." I pulled some orange juice from the fridge.

"Well… good." He began to walk out of the kitchen. "Oh, this came with the first batch of flowers." He handed me a small envelope. "If I get more plants, I'm burning them."

"Please do," I shouted as he turned on the TV in the other room.

I held the note in my hands, knowing it was from Justin, but not wanting to read it.

All that was going through my head were his words from yesterday.

"I let her kiss me. I let her take it that far and I… liked it. My mind was so messed up and I got confused."

Images of tight, beach blondes flew through my head as they groped at Justin's body, and he groped back. It made me sick to think of him with someone else. How was I supposed to just forgive and forget that?

With shaking hands, I opened the letter and read it over three times.

Dear Selena,

Like you wanted, I shall leave you alone. I've gone back to Chicago, and I understand why you're so upset.

I've never treated you with the respect you deserve. I don't expect you to forgive me because frankly, I wouldn't forgive myself. I truly am sorry and you know I don't say that lightly. I did kiss that woman on the beach. I don't remember her name and she doesn't mean anything to me. I touched her breasts, and I let her touch me. I can't hide that.

Yesterday you asked me why I told you, and I realized that it was because I love you enough to tell you. I know that doesn't make any sense and even as I'm writing this, I have no idea how to apologize to you. I tried to warn you all those months ago. I'm not a good man for you, Selena. I'm usually not this soft when it comes to things of this emotional nature, but I'm trying to be a responsible man about everything.

I won't tell anyone about this. You can choose to tell whomever, but they won't hear about our separation from me. I hope that you can forgive me, and I don't know what it will take for you to understand that I'm trying to change. I never wanted it to be this hard on you. Maybe this is a good thing. Maybe we need this. The problem is: I can't let you go. But I'll be here if you want to talk; when you're ready to talk.

I won't bother you. All your stuff will be put back in your dorm and ready for the start of the next semester. Because of who you've been with these past couple of months, the bodyguards won't go away, but they are just there to protect you.

Goodbye, Selena.

I messed up so don't feel like you have to take the burden for any of this.

Love,

Justin

After the third reading, my eyes were so filled with tears that I couldn't see anymore.

I leaned over my desk and snorted the long, white line of coke. The cartilage of my nose felt like it was rotting away with every hit, but I didn't give a fuck. Nothing mattered but the numbness the high provided me with.

I shook my head to clear the feeling when I was done and leaned back in the chair, running my hands through my hair. My entire body was finally numb again. From my head to my toes, I didn't feel a thing. My blood was flowing at a consistent pace and it kept me warm, but it wasn't my life source; if that made any sense at all.

I had so much cocaine in my system that I could feel the powder basically seeping out of my pores. It was pure numbing, deadening, dazing bliss.

I had been this way for the past month. I couldn't even remember January, minus the horrible New Year's. That was all I could remember nowadays, but I tried not to think about it. It was the sole purpose of the cocaine; I had to have something to chase the images away.

I knew I should have never gone to Forks. It was almost inevitable that it would end badly. What did I think was going to happen? I knew I had to tell her. It was almost a non-issue in my head. I couldn't keep something like my infidelities from Selena. With anyone else, I could. I'd never given a damn who I'd fucked around with and when. It was just how it was. But with her… she deserved to know. Selena was worth at least that much. She was worth more than what I gave her.

Some people might say that Selena and I were being overdramatic. At first, I thought maybe she was. I mean, it was just a kiss, and I stopped it before things got too far. Plus, I was medicated and things weren't right in my head. That got me off the hook, right? I should have gotten some kind of reprieve.

Maybe it was the cocaine or the time I had alone to think, but I realized that none of that mattered. If the roles were reversed, I would be so pissed at her that I would probably kill someone. Medication or not, I fucked up. I understood that, and I couldn't ask Selena to just overlook all of the shit I asked her to put up with any more. I couldn't change like she needed me to. I had tried, but I just couldn't. It was only a matter of time before we cracked.

I got home three days before Selena was scheduled to and had all of her stuff packed. It was waiting for her in her dorm by the time she got back. Benny was still watching her, but I didn't ask him how she was doing. I didn't want to know. He was to just make sure that she was safe. That was all.

My family noticed the change in me. I mean, how could they not? I was always strung out now. I always had something going through my system; the old Justin was back. I didn't even think I had the muscles to smile anymore. Esme would ask me what happened, but I wouldn't say anything. I had a suspicion that Alice knew what was going on, so in turn, Jasper probably knew. If he knew, then that meant Emmett and Rosalie knew. Nothing stayed quiet around here.

I never asked Alice how Selena was doing either. I just let her go.

The weird thing was that Selena actually called me. On several occasions, I picked up my phone to see her name flash across the screen. More often than not, I was too high to answer or didn't really want to speak with her. I wouldn't have anything to say if I tried to have a conversation, so I didn't bother. I didn't see her; she stopped coming to church, and my mind kind of had to shut her out or I would go crazy.

I sat back in the chair in my office at Plasma and looked at the calendar to my left. It said that it was February third, but it could have been a whole year later. I wouldn't know.

The base was thumping downstairs, and it was almost laughable at how this mirrored the first night I actually met Selena. Like then, I was high as a kite and hating life. Unlike then, I didn't have a buxomly babe on my desk. Come to think of it, I hadn't had sex in longer than I cared to remember. That didn't bode well for the people around me. I was very agitated for a number of reasons.

The cocaine high started to fade, leaving as seamlessly as it came. I blinked my eyes, and they were clear from the haze.

I got up from my seat and straightened out my tie before going into the bathroom.

I looked at myself in the mirror and almost couldn't tell how old I was. I could pass for forty. It was sickening. My skin was pale, my eyes were sunken in considerably, and even my hair looked duller than usual. We all knew why, but I tried to convince everyone that I was fine. To be honest, I was getting sick. I could feel it. My throat was always scratchy, and my head was always pounding. My stomach was constantly turning and I barely kept down any food. Then again, it might just be one, massive drug high.

I splashed some warm water on my face and reached in the cabinet. I poured out the two white pills from the bottle and popped them in my mouth, taking them back dry.

I shook my head and felt the effects of the medication as it slithered down my throat.

Thank God for Vicodin.

I heard a knock on my door and put the pills back. I went to open it and found Carlisle standing there with his hands in his pockets, the perfect picture of cool.

"Hello." He walked in without an invitation.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in this club." I cleared my throat when I heard it crack.

"I had some things to talk to Jasper about and he couldn't leave work so I decided to come here." He walked around. "So this is your office?"

"Yeah. Nothing special." I sat back at my desk. I tried to sneak the bottle of Jack Daniels off of my desk so that he wouldn't see it, but of course there was no defeating his eagle eye.

"Drinking again?" He sat in the chair opposite me.

"I always drink." I shrugged.

"You know what I mean." Carlisle picked up a pen off of my desk and began twirling it easily in his fingers.

"I was thirsty," I replied lamely.

"That's what water's for."

"I needed something… stronger."

He sighed through his nose. "Your mother and I are worried about you."

I rolled my eyes. "Is that the real reason why you're here?"

"You're high, Justin."

I didn't say anything.

"How can you work if you're high?"

"I get my shit done."

"You don't even hear yourself, do you?" He shook his head. "I can barely understand you."

"What are you talking about?" I scoffed.

"Your speech, Justin; it's slurred. What are you on?" He leaned forward.

"Nothing. I'm fine." I stood up. "Is there anything you needed?"

"What happened to you?" Carlisle was still seated, which in some ways was more of a threat to me.

"I said 'I'm fine'. Is there anything you needed?" I repeated.

He sighed again and ran a hand through his golden blonde hair. "You and your brothers have some work to do."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, I need you all to go down to the docks. I have a shipment of weapons coming in." He got out of his chair and straightened out his jacket.

I checked my watch; ten p.m.

"Alright," I groaned, "are they ready?"

"I don't know. I just came to see how you were doing. You look awful." He gave me a disappointed look before leaving the office.

I didn't bother telling him, or anyone for that matter, what happened. I think they knew, but I didn't feel like talking about it, so no one brought it up. They would only make me feel more horrible for what I did.

I took two more Vicodin before fixing myself up and heading out of the door. I walked down the hall feeling the bass reverberate throughout me as it continued to bump downstairs. It was annoying the hell out of me. I went over to Jasper's door and knocked.

"Come in," he said from the other side.

I went in and found him elbow deep in paperwork. Alice was perched on his desk with her legs crossed.

"Oh, I was just wondering if you were ready to go," I said.

"Yeah, give me a second." Jasper wrote furiously.

I stood there for about a minute and felt Alice's eyes as they bore into me from her spot on the desk. I raised my head and was met with her evil glare.

"Is there something you'd like to say to me?" I snipped.

"You're an ass," she spat.

"Can we not do this here?" Jasper didn't bother lifting his eyes from his desk. "I don't have time to break up a fight between you two."

"Tell your brother he's an ass." She hit his shoulder.

"Justin, you're an ass," he said.

"Well, thank you for pointing that out."

"How could you do that to her?" Alice hopped off of the desk.

"I told you that I'm talking about it," I answered through my teeth.

"I still can't believe you." She snatched her purse from the desk and stomped past me, out of the door. I was slightly worried that she would attack with her Taser.

Jasper shook his head and got up as well. "Okay, I'm ready." He grabbed his coat. "And you are an ass."

I didn't bother responding.

He clapped my shoulder, and then I followed him out of the door. We walked through the pulsing club where flirty girls were serving drinks and businessmen were soaking it up. We met Emmett and Alec out in the frozen parking lot. I got in the front seat of Emmett's Hummer, and the thing thundered alive.

"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Alec poked his head up front.

"We have to monitor the shipment of firearms," I replied. "They're coming in from New York."

"Why do they have to be snuck in on a boat?"

"It's easier that way. There's more room to stash them and coast guards are shit with security." Emmett chuckled.

"I just hope no one's slacking tonight. I want to go home," I grumbled.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're always so bitchy nowadays," Emmett said.

"You know why he's all messed up," Jasper replied.

"What's the problem? You fucked up, you apologized, and she heard you out. Just give her time. That's what you have to do. That's what I had to do."

"You cheated on Rosalie?"

"Well… yeah and it went further than your little adventure did."

"What did you do?" I sat up a little.

"Well, Rose put my ass on blast for at least six months. She didn't even talk to me. I even tried buying her jewelry or some shit like that. It took almost a full year for us to get back on the right track."

"I didn't know about that."

"Because we didn't tell anyone. She was too pissed at me, and I was too ashamed."

"This is turning into some kind of sorority sleepover," I heard Jasper say to Alec in the back.

"Just wait it out," Emmett assured me.

Over the past month, it was more like Emmett had taken pity on me. He wasn't really over the whole "slept with Rosalie" thing, but he wasn't as callous as he used to be. We didn't really talk like we used to, although he wasn't growling at me anymore so I guess that was a good sign.

Somehow, I didn't think what Emmett said would ever come true. Things with Selena wouldn't end up the same way as he and Rosalie.

We arrived at the docks fifteen minutes later, and I jumped out of the car, ready to get to work. My high was providing me with an extra energy that I wanted to use up before it ran out.

There was a seemingly normal yacht that was docked in the more secluded section of the harbor.

"Everyone stay alert, please." I pulled my gun out and had it ready just in case. I could feel something in the cold air that wasn't right.

Emmett let out a whistle that was so loud I thought my eardrum was going to burst. We stood on the docks and waited. A couple of seconds later, a large light flashed up above us on the deck.

"Howdy, Cullens," a robust voice sounded.

"Hiya, Clean." Emmett waved.

The man on the boat jumped onto the docks. He was about as big as Emmett, and all we had ever known him by was "Clean". He was bald and looked like he should be playing football on some NFL team. He had a thick New York accent that I could barely understand. Subtly wasn't necessarily his forte, so we always had to be careful when working with him.

"Haven't seen you boys in a couple months." He shook all our hands. "And I see we have a new kid." He nodded towards Alec.

"He's good stuff." Jasper put an arm over his shoulder.

"Can we get this over with? It's cold and I have things to do," I said, probably hasher than necessary.

"Good ol' Justin," Clean sighed. "I see you haven't changed much."

"No, not really," I replied.

"Okay, so let's get down to business." Clean pulled out his phone and started typing rapidly. "Your father ordered four Lugers, six Mausers, four Beckers, and a couple very impressive sets of grenades."

"Why do we get them in such small batches?" Alec asked me.

"We can't really carry more than that. We would attract too much attention if we hauled crates out of the docks"

He nodded.

"Is that all?" Clean put his phone away.

"I think so. Let's get these puppies off the boat." Emmett clapped his hands.

We spent a good half hour, looking over the guns before we even decided if we wanted to sign off on them or not. It was up to me to deem the shipment "worthy" or not. Clean never did us wrong so it wasn't a problem, and we started to unload the guns from the boat and into the back of Emmett's Hummer.

My high was starting to level off, and I was pretty much coasting of fumes. I couldn't remember when that last time I had eaten, and sleeping wasn't really an option for me anymore.

I was carrying a large bolt action, hunting rifle when I noticed Alec just standing on the docks, not moving.

"Hey, stop slacking," I chastised him.

His forehead was scrunched in thought, and his head was tilted. "Do you hear that?"

"No, what are you talking about?"

"Listen." He tilted his head further.

I copied his movements and stood there for a couple of seconds. I heard the soft hum of a motor in the distance, and I knew exactly what it was.

"Shit," I hissed and ran back towards the Hummer. "We have company."

"What? I thought we were done," Jasper huffed.

By this point, the motor was closer and now, it had separated into three distinct sounds.

"Oh," he said in understanding. "Silencers," he shouted.

I grabbed an assians'M107 riffle and screwed on the silencer.

"What's going on?" Emmett asked.

"Just keep a look out." I grabbed the binoculars from the back and threw them at him.

"I don't understand why we can't just have a peaceful night." He brought them up to his eyes and scanned the dark horizon.

I got on the slick pavement of the docks, cursing whoever it was for getting my Armani suit messed up. This was a dirty job, and I was about to get very dirty.

I set up the tri-pod of the M107 and rested the gun on the three legs, positioning my eye at the scope. I made sure the lighting from the infrared was red and adjusted the measurements to my specifications.

"Who are they?" I asked Emmett.

"Shinobu's shit," he answered. "Yakuza trash."

I heard a lot of quiet shuffling behind me and knew that we were preparing for a battle. That was the only way this could end.

I didn't hear the shot, but I sure felt it as the air around us shifted slightly. A big ass chuck of Clean's boat was taken out right at the hull and created a gigantic hole.

"Bitches, they shot first," Emmett said. "Take 'em out, Ed."

"Make sure you guys are ready when they come on shore." I peeked through the scope and fired a shot. The three boats were still a long ways away, but I could still see the blood as it spurted out of one guy's head.

"They're coming," I muttered and fired again, taking out another one. I was a good shooter; I knew that, but assassin training was taught for precision not speed. I could only kill one every couple of seconds, and by the time they were close enough to shoot at us, it might be too late.

I fired again, this time missing.

"Alright, that's all I can do." I got off of the ground, but stayed hunched over, and I went behind the Hummer, which was providing us with shelter.

"What the hell do they want? Don't they know it won't end well for them?" Jasper rolled his eyes.

"Those bastards sunk my boat," Clean growled, pumping a Becker full of lead. "Just make sure they don't get near me."

I heard the boat motors stall and the loud footsteps of men as they tramped onto the docks.

I ducked under the car, which was high enough that I could see straight across. I pointed my Eagle at the knee cap of a man that I only saw the bottom half of and fired. There wasn't a silencer so there was a loud bang, but it was luckily partially covered up by a foghorn.

He let out a harsh scream and fell to the ground. I looked him in the eye as I fired again, but this time, the bullet ripped through his forehead.

"Put that thing away, Justin." Jasper took the Eagle out of my head. "You're going to attract attention."

"Yeah, because the dead bodies aren't already doing that." I climbed in the car and put together a smaller pistol.

As usual, we all split up to take down our kill. There wasn't much light, but it was just enough to see what was going on. Alec and Jasper ran further down the docks, and I saw some men follow them.

It had been a long time since we had been in a situation like this. I knew that I still had my mojo, so I got down to it.

I gave Emmett an apology in my head before I busted out the back window of his car, which wasn't as easy as it sounds, but it came out after a couple good knocks. Then, I basically just sat in the car and started picking them off one by one.

In Japanese, Yakuza literally meant "violent group", and Shinobu's men were no exception. They were always our rivals when it came to firearms, even though we worked with them extensively. This was a strong knock against them, and when Carlisle found out about their attempts to thwart our business, he was going to flip his lid.

I wasn't paying attention enough—until it was too late—to feel the sting of a hit on my left temple. The butt of a gun was thrust into my head, and I was lucky that I didn't get a concussion. My gun slipped from my hand. I rolled out of the open door and onto the wet ground.

Someone was on top of me and fists were pounding into my face.

I reached up and just grabbed whatever I could, pulling the fucker down. His head hit the pavement next to me, and I flipped over so that I was on top. The man was sputtering at me in Japanese, but it was indistinguishable because I was bashing his skull into the concrete. I felt his blood on my hands, but didn't stop until he stilled underneath me.

I didn't have time to breathe before I was pushed over and felt more weight on my body. This time, I was ready though. I didn't have a gun, so I improvised. I grabbed the first thing on the ground that I could and swung it upwards.

The sound of chains knocking together was loud as it came in contact with a body.

"What the fuck?" the man yelled at me as he charged at me with a metal pipe. There was no way I could block the blow without getting hit, so I just manned up. The velocity that the pipe was traveling at was enough to cause some major damage, which I felt when I heard a crack at my side.

There was nothing like the pain of broken ribs and from what I could tell, I had two.

With that setback behind me, I decided it was time to finish this night up. My arm came down so many times with the metal chains that I almost couldn't feel it. I hit and hit and hit until the guy was on the floor, bleeding profusely, but I didn't stop.

I wrapped the chains around his neck, holding tightly until I felt him start to calm down, although there was a massive hole in his head, so I didn't know how much use he was to the world at this point. His eyes started to bug out and the gurgling sounds of his throat began to get louder as his airway closed off. He stilled a couple of seconds later, and I let him fall limply.

I was out of breath and the pain of my side was causing me to double over against the side of a wall. From what I could hear, things were over. I didn't know what had happened, but I guessed we all made it.

"Are you alright?" Emmett came up to me with blood on his clothes and grime on his skin.

"Yeah. You?"

"Just a broken hand," he answered.

"Two broken ribs." I challenged his injury with mine.

"Damn," he grumbled, "and what happened to my window?"

"Uh… Yakuza fucker."

When all of us reconvened, we found that Jasper was the only one who was seriously hurt. It was just a grazing shot on the top of his right bicep, but Esme and Alice were going to freak the fuck out.

"Just don't tell them," he hissed through his teeth when I tied a tourniquet around his arm.

"Yeah right. That's such a great idea," I replied sarcastically. "Dad needs to call his doctor for you."

"I don't need one." He pushed me off.

"You have big piece of skin missing. It needs to sewn up."

Jasper hopped out of the car. "Let's just clean this mess up so that we can go home."

The cleanup took longer than the actual battle itself. Thankfully, we had Clean, who was an expert at getting rid of evidence.

I didn't ask how.

It always amazed me at how good we Cullens were. We had taken out a whole crew of Yakuza crime groupies without any warning or preparation. I was highly impressed with myself, especially since I was a little high at the moment, but that was beside the point. They should write a book about us, or at least make a movie, because we were tough shit.

We moved all the dead bodies behind a warehouse, in a secluded corner, and doused them all in gasoline before they went up in flames. Alec kept watch as we stood there to make sure that the fire was controlled and didn't spread.

We bleached the blood off of the pavement with a special concoction that came from Clean. I guess that's where he got his name from. After the fires turned to ashes and the bones of the fallen were nothing but smoldering embers, we gathered the rather large pile up and dumped them in the river. Maybe it was divine intervention and God was looking down on us, but as we all limped into the car, a heavy rain started to fall, washing the rest of the evidence away from the crime scene.

I was on the phone with Carlisle the whole way back to Plasma and like I'd thought, he was furious. He couldn't even form coherent sentences at one point, and I figured it would be best to let him stew for a couple of days. He basically pushed me off of the phone so he could make a few calls of his own.

After we got back to the club, we unloaded our haul to the basement where they would be picked up later. Finally, my night was over.

I went upstairs to my office and grabbed my bottle of pills to take for the ache at my side. I didn't know if they would make me feel any better, but I didn't really care. I needed something.

"Where are you off to?" Emmett came into my office when I was putting on my coat.

"Out," I answered and patted myself down to make sure I had my wallet.

"Out as in, where?"

"Out as in out," I snapped and made a move to get past him. He stopped me in the doorway, wrapping his large hand around the exact spot where my ribs were broken.

He gave a squeeze, and I winced.

"You should get that checked out." He grinned.

"I don't need anything but for you to get your hand off of me."

"I hope you're not going to do anything… questionable after the night we just had." He gave my side another squeeze. "Where are you going?"

"The Amber Room," I ground out.

"And how do you think Selena would feel about that?" This time he gripped so hard that I almost heard my ribs crunch as if they were going to break again.

"I don't give a fuck what Selena thinks," I replied truthfully and pushed him off. I darted out of my office before he could grab me again.

I pushed my way through the throngs of people until I felt the piercing cold air of the night. I went into the dark corner of the parking lot and sunk into the Saleen. It came alive and my whole body rumbled from the engine. I was off on the road a couple of seconds later.

I arrive at The Amber Room only fifteen minutes later, probably because I was going about fifty over the speed limit, but no one stopped me.

I moved past the guards and went into the back, sitting in one of the private booths. As soon as my ass hit the comfortable leather of the seat, a girl was at my side with my smile.

"Hi, Justin." She bent over to place a glass of tawny liquid in front of me.

"Hi…" I trailed off because I didn't remember her name.

"What can I get for you tonight?" The girl was dressed in a red corset and thong with heels that looked taller than cinderblocks. That was it.

I shrugged. "Whatever you've got for me."

"Okay." She smirked and came across the table to straddle my waist, sitting on my lap.

My hands went to her hips, and I leaned back in the booth—ignoring the pain in my ribs— and prepared to receive my punishment.

The sun was beating in through the window and my eyes squinted open painfully. My head was throbbing, and I didn't even want to think about how much damage I had done last night. I couldn't remember how I had gotten in my bed, and most of my night was now a haze in my brain.

I sat up slowly, realizing that my phone was ringing; I reached over to get it.

"Hello." My voice was groggy.

"Justin, what the hell?" Emmett screamed. "We're going in to church and I'm stalling for you. Ma is about to snap my neck in half."

I looked over at the clock that flashed seven.

"Oh, I don't think I'll make it." I shook my head, still trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

"You better get your shit together. Dad is going to drag your ass here in a second. I told them you'd be here in ten minutes. You're lucky I didn't let you go home with that stripper. You'd be fucked.Move!" he commanded, and the call ended.

I literally fell out of bed, hitting the floor in a heap of sheets. I was naked, and my body felt like it was filled with lead. I couldn't think or see straight.

"Damn it." I hit my head on the floor repeatedly.

I guess I would never know what happened after I got to The Amber Room.

I got up from the floor and stretched my muscles. The ache from my side was throbbing, but I pushed past it and jumped in the shower. I couldn't even spend my normal twenty-seven minutes under the water, which highly annoyed me, but I didn't have time.

I dressed smartly in a suit that had Armani on the tag, but besides that, I couldn't tell you what it looked like. I grabbed my keys and wallet, heading out the door with a swaying head.

On my way to church, I downed a gigantic cup of coffee and balanced the caffeine out with more pills. By the time I arrived at Holy Name, I was high again.

I parked and jumped out of the car, noticing that the doors were closed. Service had probably been going on for fifteen minutes. I walked in confidently and eyes from the more pious members were on me—scolding me—as if they knew about my sinful night I had just woken up from. I sat in my normal spot in front of my parents. Even though I couldn't see them, I could feel their scowls.

Church progressed as usual. I wasn't paying attention and I didn't care. It was almost as if I blinked, and then it was over.

"Justin, get up," my mother ordered from next to me with a steely voice.

I looked up at her and felt my face screw up in confusion.

"You're high; your eyes are red. Thank God you showered, or I'm sure you'd smell horrible," she said in answer to my confusion. "Get up." She pulled me by my collar.

I noticed that the pews were almost cleared and my family was near the entrance of the church, but my mother was pulling me the other way. We went down the hall to the left, our shoes clicking on the floor, and she pushed me in front of the confessional.

"No, absolutely not." I shook my head.

"Justin, you need help. I'm not going to put up with your crap any longer. Father Romana is waiting for you."

"Well, he can keep waiting." I made a move to run, but she stopped me. I saw my father standing near the entrance of the hall, looking at our encounter with parental eyes.

"Justin, I'm not messing around with you." The look on her face was so scary that it sent a shiver up my spine.

"Fuck," I said under my breath and stepped into the booth, crossing myself harshly.

The panel slid back, and I saw the white haired man who had taught me about the Bible since I was five years old. He knew me like the back of his hand, and I didn't want to look at him. Even though he was old, he was one of the hip priests who realized the connection he had with younger patrons. He always listened and never judged.

"May the Lord be in our heart to help you make a good confession," he said softly.

I didn't give the obligatory reply.

"Hello, Justin." His Italian accent was harsh, but caring. "How are you today?"

"I'm fine," I snipped.

"You don't seem fine."

"I don't need or want to be here." I turned towards him.

"Your mother thinks you do."

"She always thinks I need religion."

"What's going on, Justin? Talk to me. I haven't seen you in years. This doesn't have to be anything formal if you don't want it to be."

I sighed heavily, knowing that there was no way I was getting out of this and crossed myself again. "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. My last confession was …" I counted backwards, "… twelve years ago."

"Your last confessional was when you were thirteen?" he asked slowly.

"Yes, I skipped it all through high school." My evil grin widened when I thought about how I would always convince Ashley Martinson to follow me to the basement for a quick fuck. She was eighteen and more than willing to corrupt a young mind like mine.

"Are you ready to dive into your sins?" Father Romana gave a hearty chuckle.

I didn't know what it was, but I couldn't fight it any longer.

And for the first time in a month, I spoke about Selena.

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 28**

Sorry for the slight delay in this chapter, it's a bit of a "travel" chapter and although I had a couple of scenes I wanted to add, the rest of the chapter just didn't flow. But here it is, finally!

Series Master List

Chapter 29 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 6.9k

The weather outside the school is a crisp, early fall day, and as you all make your way towards the interstate heading north you relish being away from the city again. The route chosen takes you away from suburban areas as much as possible so for hours you walk through green fields and patches of forest where the leaves have started changing color. It’s like a picturesque fall hike, except all seven of you are armed, guns ready, and walking with your heads on swivels.

Pope’s taken the lead, Joel behind him, not willing to let Pope be all in command. Frankie and you follow Joel, and Tommy brings up the rear behind Will and Benny. By midday you’ve covered a lot of ground and take a break by a small lake. You gratefully sink down onto the ground with your back against a log. The ache in your shoulder is a dull throb and you’re trying to get by without any more painkillers. 

“Just take the damn pills, cariño,” Frankie says when you shake your head. 

“We don’t have that many left, what if we need them for something more serious?” you object and he raises his eyebrows. 

“You can be all brave and stoic when we’re inside a QZ, out here I need you to be as good as you can be with that shoulder.” He holds the pills out again, along with his canteen and you accept them. 

“ ‘Stoic’, big word there, Frankie’,” you tease him as he watches you swallow the pills. 

“The Gladiator film,” he says, grinning, “Marcus Aurelius was a stoic philosopher.” 

“How do you even remember that?” you ask incredulously and Frankie gives you a crooked smile as he sits down next to you. 

“I’ve watched that film like thirty times.”

“Director’s cut with commentary,” Benny chips in, grinning as he sits down on the other side of you. “He was obsessed!”

“How did I not know about this obsession?” you ask, laughing as Frankie reaches across and slaps Benny’s cap off. 

“It’s a masterpiece, and the Academy agrees with me because it got an Oscar for Best Film and-,” Frankie says. 

“No it didn’t, Erin Brockowich won the Oscar for Best Film that year,” Benny interrupts, “I remember Julia Roberts on stage.” 

“Erin Brockowich didn’t win an Oscar for Best Film!” Frankie protest, “Are you out of your fucking mind?!” 

“No, you’re out of your mind if you think Gladiator beat Erin Brockowich, that film was awesome!” 

“It was alright, but it did not win an fucking Oscar for Best Film!” Frankie throws his hands up, “I can’t fucking believe you, Benny, you’re delusional!” 

“Russel Crowe won an Oscar for Best Actor, I’ll give you that, he was awesome. ‘What we fight in life, dies in eternity!’ “ Benny quotes in his best Russel Crowe impersonation. 

“Jesus, Benny, that’s not even the quote!” Frankie sighs with a roll of his eyes as you chuckle. 

“If we had a smartphone with an internet connection, I’d solve this straight away,” you say, giving Frankie a calming pat on his thigh. “But you’ll just have to hope we find a library with an encyclopedia.”

“I’m telling you, Erin Brockowich won an Oscar for Best Film, Frankie!” Benny says and Frankie mumbles something undoubtedly rude in Spanish and pushes himself up. 

“I’m gonna get some lunch, I’ll get you a bowl too, cariño.” With a scowl at Benny he stalks off and you can’t help but smile at the mundane argument between the two men. Benny leans over and chuckles. 

“I totally know Gladiator won the Oscar for Best FIlm, but I just love winding him up.” 

“Benjamin Miller, you are a nuisance!” you laugh as Benny grins and digs into his own lunch. 

You continue on after lunch, until darkness starts to settle. You find a farmstead on the outskirts of a small town and once it’s cleared you all settle down for the night. You’re excused from the watch rosta again and sleep through the night while the guys take turns standing guard. You wake up early again, Frankie had the second to last watch and he’s sleeping soundly, his arm thrown over your waist. He stirs as you shift under him, mumbling in his sleep, and you press a kiss to his forehead, making his lips curl in a drowsy smile. 

“Go back to sleep, Frankie,” you whisper, and as you pull on your boots, you hear his soft snores start back up. 

Joel has the last watch tonight and you find him pacing the yard in front of the farm house, turning as you step through the door. 

“Morning,” you say, sitting down on the porch steps as he turns back towards the yard. 

“Mornin’ “ 

“Quiet night?” you ask, looking out over the field beyond the farmstead as Joel turns and paces back across the yard again. 

“No one came near us but a few groups of infected moving south in the distance,” he replies, turning and coming back towards you again. He stops and looks down at you, his brow furrowed, looking like he has something on his mind. You wait, looking up at him as his jaw ticks. 

“Frankie’s girl,” he says eventually, “Tommy told me. I’m sorry.” His voice is gruff, his eyes not meeting yours, instead scanning the sides of the building. 

“Thanks,” you say, “Tommy told me about Sarah, I’m really sorry too, Lucía loved her.” 

“Yeah.” He stands still for a beat before he turns and paces back across the yard, stopping at the last building and looking out over the fields. 

You remain on the porch, watching his rigid posture, but he doesn’t turn and come back and eventually you hear people moving inside the house and you get up to help with breakfast, leaving him to his vigil. 

You made good time yesterday, Pope shows you on the map how far you’ve come. 

“We should make it to the Boston QZ before nightfall, but it’ll be slower going today since we’re moving through populated areas,” he says, his finger tracing a line across the map. 

“More people, more infected,” you sigh, accepting your backpack from Frankie as he comes over. 

“Yeah, we need to be on our toes today,” Pope agrees, “But, there’s seven of us, I’d think twice before I mess with an armed group that large.” 

“Let’s hope you’re right, Pope,” Will says, scanning the map next to you, “Let’s head out.” 

Pope was right about it being slower going. Only a few miles from the farmstead the suburbs begin, a massive sprawl all around the greater Boston area. The six men quickly fall into a familiar pattern of tactical advancement, you stay close to Frankie, as two men move forwards, covered by the other four, repeating as you move through the neighborhoods. Eventually you leave the suburbs behind and move into Boston, heading towards North End where the QZ is supposed to be located. 

As you’re moving across a large street, you and Frankie in front, you suddenly hear a desperate call for help. Frankie immediately holds up his hand to halt the others, Joel moving up next to you. The call is coming from a side street just up ahead and carefully the three of you move forward, the other four covering your backs. As you clear the corner, guns raised, you see the source of the noise, a young boy is trapped underneath a dumpster, his leg jammed and he’s crying out as he pulls on it. Next to him is a teenage girl, trying to shift the heavy dumpster off his leg. The boy cries out as he sees you, his face twisted in pain. 

“Please, help!” the girl calls, “my brother’s stuck!” She puts her shoulder against the dumpster and tries to shift it again. You holster your gun and start jogging towards the pair. 

“Cariñio, wait!” Frankie calls as he sees you move, following you with his hand out to pull you back. 

“Stop!” Joel bellows and yanks Frankie to the side so that they both tumble to the ground behind a car, you look back at them as you step forward and your leg catches on a wire. You barely have time to register your mistake and then a loud explosion knocks you sideways, showering you with dust and debris, you cry out as you land on your injured shoulder. Your vision is filled with dust, your gasping to catch your breath and your ears are ringing, somehow you register the loud noise of gunshots and then Frankie is on you, pulling you backwards across the ground behind a van. His face is swimming in front of yours as you try to focus on what he’s saying, he’s patting you down, lifting your shirt to and checking your abdomen. You shake your head, trying to clear the fog, and slowly Frankie’s voice comes back to you.

“Cariño! Are you hurt? Tell me where it hurts?” He’s kneeling in front of you, his hands on your shoulders, trying to make you focus on him. A corner of your mind registers that the gun fire has stopped and you try to feel if you’re hurting anywhere. 

“Only my shoulder,” you croak finally, “I landed on it.” You shake your head again and blink and Frankie swims into view, clearer now. “I think I’m ok, my ears are ringing but nothing is broken.” 

“Get her up, we need to move,” Joel barks from somewhere to your right, loud enough to cut through the ringing, and Frankie moves around, putting his arm around your waist and helping you up. You’re dizzy but it fades quickly as you take a few steps towards the street, your legs are a bit shaky but nothing hurts. You glance over at the boy and the girl and see them lying lifeless against the dumpster, multiple bullet wounds leaking blood onto the ground. 

“Let’s move!” Pope yells and Frankie pulls you along, as Will comes up on your other side to check if you need support. 

“I think I’m good, Will, thanks,” you say, your legs feeling steadier with each step. 

“Ok, good,” he replies, glancing over his shoulder at the site of the explosion, his gun raised. “I think you got really lucky, that bomb was made wrong. Lots of noise, very little blast, amateur work.” He catches your eyes and gives you a serious look, “You got really lucky.” You drop your gaze, you know you fucked up, he doesn’t have to say it.  

You all move quickly through the next few blocks and shouts go up behind you, prompting Pope to hastily consult the map before making a sharp turn. “Down here, we’ll lose any pursuers in the alleys,” he says and you all jog along as quickly as possible while still checking every street corner. Eventually you come out on a big highway, following it north and slowing down to a walk again. 

You walk next to Frankie, he keeps glancing over at you but you keep your eyes on the ground or forward on Joel’s back. You put everyone in danger, especially Frankie, by being thoughtless and trusting. Guilt and shame crawls up your limbs and makes your cheeks burn as you remember how both Frankie and Joel yelled at you. You can’t bring yourself to look at Frankie, his concerned eyes, you know he’ll smooth it over, make it out as if it was a mistake anyone could’ve made. But you know that’s not true, the others saw the trap instantly, you just saw two children who needed help and rushed in without thinking. 

“I’m sorry, Frankie,” you finally mumble when you can’t take it anymore. And just like you thought, Frankie immediately takes hold of your hand and strokes soothing little circles onto your skin. 

“Don’t worry about it, cariño, you made a mistake, the important thing is you’re not hurt.” 

You hear Joel growl in front of you and Frankie looks up at him as Joel throws a scowl over his shoulder at you, “You could’ve gotten us all killed, being so fucking trusting, fucking stupid.”

You feel your cheeks heat up again and you bite your lip, dropping your eyes to your boots as you continue walking. But Frankie tightens his hold on your hand as he glowers at Joel’s back.  

“Shut the fuck up, Joel,” he snarls, “she made a mistake and I should’ve been more alert, should’ve seen it first.” 

“Well, that’s just the fucking problem isn’t it?!” Joel snaps, stopping and spinning around to face Frankie and you. “You’re so fucking wrapped around her that you don’t pay attention to anything. Could have fucking clickers tearing the rest of us to pieces but you’d only see her. She’s a fucking liability.” 

You see Frankie opens his mouth to yell at Joel but Will’s firm hand comes down on his shoulder. 

“Ok, that’s enough,” he says, his voice determined and signaling ‘end of fucking discussion’. “We need to keep moving, we’re almost at the QZ. This is not the time or the place.” 

Without a word Joel turns on his heel and marches off, overtaking Pope who’s looking at Frankie with his eyebrows raised. Frankie snaps his mouth shut, his teeth grinding together as he starts walking again. He’s still got a hold of your hand but as you walk you pull away from it, taking out your gun as your eyes scan the broken city around you. Joel words sting, there’s a truth to them, Frankie’s said so himself back in Arlington when you asked to help with the smuggling. ‘I wouldn’t be able to focus on what we’re doing if I know you’re out there too’. He only let you join in the operation when you pleaded with him. And now you’d proven how right he’d been, you made a mistake and his focus had been on you, not the potential danger. You grip your gun tighter, keeping your eyes on the horizon as you swallow down the lump in your throat and keep walking, trying to ignore Joel’s furious form in front and Frankie’s worried looks on your left.  

Downtown Boston is a mess, a wrecked no man’s land of broken buildings and water filled craters. It’s slow going with many detours and uneasy sprints across streets as you follow the broken signs towards the QZ. You stay behind Frankie, your gun out, pointed down towards the ground, stopping when he stops, running when he runs, making yourself small and invisible, avoiding Frankie’s eyes, and Joel’s scowls. 

The QZ gate finally comes into view as the sun sinks behind the broken skyline. You make one final detour on Pope’s suggestion, all of you hiding your rifles and some of your handguns inside a building just out of sight of the gate. 

“Better to stash them here than to let FEDRA take them,” Pope says, marking the building on his map as you hide your gun and holster at the bottom of your backpack. 

You get to the gate, get scanned and taken to a processing center. Since it’s getting late you’re shown to a temporary housing facility, bunk beds set up in the hall of a community center, and given a thin stew for dinner. After the meager meal you get ready for bed, gratefully pulling off your boots and sinking down on Frankie’s bunk bed, you’ve been assigned the one on top. He puts his arm around you and pulls you in to rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Relax now, cariño,” he mumbles, “we got here in one piece.” 

“I’m really sorry about today, Joel’s right,” you whisper, guilt welling up inside you again, “I made a huge mistake that could’ve gotten us killed.” 

Frankie sighs and lets his hand caress your hair as he pulls you in closer, “You made a mistake because you’re you, you’re not a soldier. And I love that,” he adds when he hears you inhale to interrupt. “You’re not a soldier and you shouldn’t have to be, I should keep you safe and I wasn’t paying enough attention today.” 

“Frankie, if you blame yourself for me getting myself blown up today, I’m going to slap you,” you protest and you hear him sigh. 

“But it’s true, I promised to keep you safe, both to you and to myself, and I failed.” 

You pull yourself from his grip so that you can sit up straight and look at him, “You do not get to blame yourself for that and you can’t keep me safe at all times, that’s impossible.” 

“I know, but when I’m right there, right next to you, I should keep you safe, I should’ve seen that fucking trap the second we turned the corner, I need to keep you safe,” his voice shifts, an edge to it you haven’t heard in a few years. 

“Frankie…” you say, taking his hand as you open your mouth to argue, to pull him back from where he’s heading, but he interrupts, cutting you off. 

“I need to keep you safe, you know that,” his eyes are pleading with you, “you know it’s all I have, you’re all I have. If I can’t keep you safe then…then,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “then nothing. I’m nothing. After Lucía…” he trails off, and you cup his face in your hands and lean against his forehead. “You know how close I came to leaving you because I couldn’t keep you safe,” he mumbles, “I have to keep you safe, I have to protect you.” 

“I know Frankie, I know,” you stroke his cheeks with your thumbs but you don’t try to argue with him, you don’t try to convince him, you just try to calm him down. “I promise I’ll be more careful too. And we’re safe now, Frankie, we’re both safe.” 

“I just wanna keep you safe, hermosa,” he mumbles, putting his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side and you lean your head on his shoulder again. “I just need to keep you safe.” 

You take his other hand and tangle your fingers with his, rubbing your thumb over the bullseye tattoo and you sit in silence while the rest of the room quietens down, people settling down to sleep. Your own eyes are getting heavy and you stifle a yawn. 

“I hope we can stay here now,” you mumble as he caresses your hair, his fingertips gently scraping against your scalps.  

“Yeah, I hope so, Boston seems good so far,” he looks down at you as you slip further down his shoulder. “Hermosa, don’t fall asleep sitting up, c’mon, get into bed.” He smiles as he nudges you to sit upright again and starts peeling your jacket off. You nod and pull off your hoodie too before climbing up into the top bunk. Frankie stands up and tucks you into your sleeping bag and cups your cheek, his lips finding yours in a soft kiss. 

“Sleep well, cariño, sweet dreams.” He chuckles softly as your eyes close before he’s even finished speaking, pressing his lips to your forehead and settling down in the bottom bunk. 

FEDRA in Boston seems to have the procedure of admitting people down to an efficient art form. It only takes a few hours the next day for you all to be assigned housing, ration cards and told to report to the assignment officer in two days time. The Boston QZ is located in the city’s North End, narrow streets lined by centuries old red brick buildings and surrounded on three sides by water. You’ve all been assigned apartments in the same building, Pope, Will and Benny in one apartment, Joel and Tommy in another and Frankie and you in a small one bedroom place on the top floor overlooking Old North Church. 

Frankie pulls you into his chest the second the door closes behind you. You’ve just managed to drop your bag on the floor when his arms circle around you and the cool tip of his nose presses against your neck. You hear him inhale deeply, probably smelling almost a week’s worth of dirt and sweat on your skin and you shift under him, feeling the need for a shower. 

“I stink Frankie,” you giggle as he holds you tighter when you squirm under him. 

“I don’t fucking care, I let you shower last time I had you alone,” he growls, “you smell great to me, you’re my favourite smell in the world.” 

“Not aviation fuel?” you tease him and he chuckles into your hair.  “Close second, hermosa.” 

He’s walking you backwards into the new apartment, guiding you into a room that turns out to be the kitchen and with a firm grip on your waist, he lifts you up onto one of the counters. 

“Look at this, perfect height and everything,” he grins as he pushes your legs apart, making room for himself between them and pulling you closer. You’ve still got your boots on, and your jacket, and you’re giggling as he starts tugging at the sleeves as he buries his face against the crook of your neck, placing wet kisses on your salty skin. When he uses his teeth, nipping that spot just under your ear, your giggles turn into a gasp and he bites harder, making you moan so that he can feel the sound come from your throat. You fight with your sleeves, finally freeing yourself and throwing your jacket on the floor and tangling your hands in Frankie’s soft curls, pushing off his cap and pulling his lips up to yours. The back of your head thumps against the cupboard behind you when he meets your kiss, his tongue greedily licking into your open mouth and pushing you back. When his hands roam under your t-shirt and caress along your sides, up your back, his fingers feel hot on your skin, making you shiver with pleasure and you tilt your head back with a soft moan. Frankie lets his mouth leave yours and instead sucks a mark into your neck, the soft tip of his tongue coming out to taste the goosebumps his scraping teeth leaves behind. 

He pulls away enough to pull the t-shirt over your head and you reach out to tug off his shirt too, to be honest, it stinks, as does yours, they both end up on the floor. His skin is still tanned and golden from the day you spent on the boat, his freckles sprinkled over his shoulders and chest and before he claims your skin again, you lean forward and smooth your hands over the wide expanse of his shoulders. Frankie’s hands are stroking your back, up into your hair, letting his nails scrape along your scalp as you pull him closer and trail wet kisses between his freckles. His skin tastes like salt and dust, the unwashed cotton of his t-shirt leaving its own scent, but underneath you can still smell him. You can feel his throat hum when your lips move up over his Adam's apple and into his scruffy beard, nosing against the sweet bare patches that never fill in. 

“Do I stink, cariño,” he says and you can hear the smile in his voice and you nod, letting your lips wander down along his throat again, your hands slipping down over his chest. 

“You taste like salt and smell like sweat,” you murmur into his skin, enjoying the warmth that’s radiating from him, the stillness in the apartment and the calm that comes from being safe and having time. And you take your time, Frankie standing still between your legs, his hands in your hair, letting your fingertips map out a path between his freckles that you follow with your mouth. Tasting him slowly, your tongue slipping over his skin, the pebbles on his throat, the hollow just at the base. You test the give of his flesh, biting lightly like you always do, until he hums with pleasure, egging you on to bite down harder. Your mouth finds a soft spot, just beneath his collar bone, and your tongue caresses it. When the pads of your fingers drag across his dark nipples as your teeth graze his skin, biting down, he hums again, a hushed moan at the back of his throat. The sound, his soft little whine, sends a shiver down your spine, making you grip your legs around his narrow hips, heat pooling in your core and you let your fingers slip down his soft belly until you find the coarse trail of dark hair that leads down under his jeans. 

He lets you undo his belt and buttons, the zipper coming down as you cup your hand over the bulge in his tight boxers. 

“Cariño,” he groans, your fingers tracing the outline of his hard cock as his breath stutters, “fuck, that feels good…” he drops into the crook of your neck, his mouth breathing hot air over your skin as you continue to tease him through the warm cotton. His hands have been kneading your hips through the denim of your jeans but now he moves them onto your thighs, stroking his thumbs up along the inside towards your core and up to your belt, tugging at it. He makes quick work of it even when he has to stop and groan as your fingers become more firm around him. You lift your hips and he pushes your jeans down your legs, cursing as they catch on your boots. 

“Take them off, Frankie,” you say, palming his heavy length again, pulling a deep growl from him as he bites down on your shoulder, making you whine and squeeze him in response. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, pulling away and crouching down to untie your laces, quickly pulling each boot off, letting your jeans fall on the floor before he kicks off his own boots and jeans. 

“Counter or bed?” he asks, pulling your legs around his waist again, his hard length pushed up against your wet folds. 

“We’re not gonna last long enough to get to the bed,” you say and he grins, seeking out your mouth as he feels your fingers wrap around his cock and give it a few firm strokes, letting the precum coat the blunt head. 

“Probably not, I’m-” Frankie’s reply gets stuck in his throat as he groans, his hips thrusting into your hand of their own accord. “Fuck, that feels good, hermosa,” he gasps, his cock twitching in your grip.

Guiding him right you look down between your bodies to watch as he pushes in, the stretch making you clench hard around him. He growls, a low rumbling in his throat, his fingers digging into your hips, the slick heat coating his aching hard cock and he feels your pussy pulse around him as you tangle your hands in his hair and pull his mouth to yours. When he starts to move his hips hips he has to squeeze his eyes shut, he wants to fuck you hard, built up tension making his body want to chase release too fast. But you’re just as greedy, he can feel it, your heels digging into his ass, pulling him closer with every thrust of his hips. Your lips slip from his and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, clinging to his shoulders as he slams deep. Every time he bottoms out he grinds against your aching clit, the wiry curls at the base of him slipping across it, making you gasp out hot air over his chest. 

“Frankie…” you moan, “harder…please…I’m so clo..ose,” the last syllable comes out as a whine as he plants his feet firm on the kitchen floor, his hands grabbing handfuls of flesh and slamming into your, pushing you up against the cupboard with a panted groan.

“Fuck, so good…” Frankie pants, “feels so good, I won’t…” 

He has to bite his lip to stop himself from coming, pistoning into you and listening to your whimpering as he hits the right spot. Your nails dig into his back, your teeth scrape across his shoulder as you seize up and cry out, your high hitting you as he grinds deep into your tight heat. The spasm of your cunt around his aching cock, deep inside you, pushes him over the edge. With a growl he pulls you in even tighter, pushing your hips onto his cock, emptying deep inside as he shivers under the onslaught.

You tilt your head back, breathing heavily as your body relaxes around him. He drops his head forward and your arms come up and cradle him against your chest, pressing kisses to the top of his head as stillness falls over you both, the only sound your breathing, as you slowly calm down.

Later, after showers with soap and shampoo, he carries you to the bedroom and places you naked on the bed and kneels by your thighs. If the first time together after a week traveling was rushed and chasing relief, now it’s slow and calm. A soft bed again, a door to close and lock, no one nearby and no need to stand guard. Frankie does what he loves best, he pushes your legs open with his calloused hands and makes himself at home between them, making you whimper his name while his cock aches under him. As your body arches up and you cry out, he pins you down, buries his tongue inside you, and begs you to let him make you come again and again. 

When you finally fall asleep, the sheets are already ruined, your thighs covered in your release and his seed, Frankie’s sweat damp curls a messy halo around his head, the taste of you on his tongue. With your face nestled in the crook of his neck, your head resting on his arm, he pulls the covers over you both and holds you close with his arms circled around you. When you hook your leg over his, he feels like he should simply stay here always, never leave this bed again. Your nose against his throat, warm breath slipping over his chest, your soft waist under his arms and he feels your body rise and fall in a steady rhythm. 

He has to keep you safe. 

“I talked to Joel yesterday,” Will says one evening, a few weeks after you’ve all arrived in Boston. “He’s been looking into trading around the QZ, talked to some of the people selling stuff to see who’s moving what.” 

Frankie and you have joined Will, Benny and Pope in their apartment, continuing your routine of sharing dinners. Tonight it’s your turn to cook and Frankie’s helping you chop up the vegetables while you try to season the rice with what little is available. 

“I invited him and Tommy over tonight, after dinner, to see what they have to say, seems Joel’s keen to get into smuggling, they used to do it in the Austin QZ.” Will says, putting down bowls on the kitchen table and knocking Benny’s feet off it at the same time, “Get your stinky, fucking socks off the table, Benjamin.” 

“Do you know why they left Austin?” you ask, turning to Will, who’s scowling at his younger brother.

“Tommy got friendly with a group of people who were convinced things were better up north and wanted to join them. Joel said he tagged along to keep an eye on Tommy,” Will replies and Benny nods.  “Seems they had a pretty rough journey,” he says, “they lost most of the group, stopped in some QZ:s along the way, moved on when FEDRA got too oppressive or the smuggling got too dangerous.”

“So everyone in the group died until it was only them left?” you ask, seems like you guy got off easy in your journey if that’s how bad it’d been for Joel and Tommy.. 

“No, they left a few behind in Pittsburgh,” Will says, “Tommy said two of the guys found partners there, one of them had a kid, another one was fed up with running, wanted to take down FEDRA there. Thanks, man.” he sits down at the table and accepts a glass of whiskey from Pope. “I think Tommy wanted to do the same but Joel thought it was a bad idea and got Tommy to leave. They were heading to New York but ran into some trouble and decided it’d be safer to go further north.” 

“What kind of trouble?” Pope asks, “New York seems to be the logical choice if you’re leaving Pittsburgh.” 

“I didn’t ask,” Will says, shaking his head, “seemed to be a sore point with Joel so I didn’t push it.” 

You put the pot of stew on the table and everyone sits down, “So the plan is to start up the way we did in New York?” you ask, “And maybe avoid pissing off any local gangs?” 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Will nods with a crooked grin, “Joel seemed to have some ideas so maybe he’s heard something about what’s going on.”

Joel does have plenty of ideas you realize when he and Tommy turn up an hour later. Tommy’s been asking around and there’s a couple of people to approach if you’re looking for something not available with ration cards. But Joel’s been more direct, he’s found a route to get outside and tested it, venturing far outside the wall and picking up the rifles and ammo you left out there. He’s also made a connection with the man who runs the private radio in the QZ and figured out which FEDRA soldiers have what weaknesses and who can be exploited for those weaknesses. 

“How’d you find out all that,” Will asks as Pope and Frankie exchange a worried glance. 

“Asked the right people in the right way,” Joel grunts, stretching out his long legs as he leans back on the couch. 

“What do you mean, ‘the right way’?” 

Joel eyes Will for a few seconds before he responds, “I ask and make sure they know they need to tell the truth;” he says, his tone curt and crossing his arms over his chest, his face closed off, it’s like watching a shutter come down the way he clenches his jaw tight. There’s a menacing tone to his voice that makes you shudder when he says it and by the way Frankie tilts his head and shoots a quick glance at Pope, you know you’re not the only one who picked up on it. 

“Joel, you know I’ve been smuggling for years,” Will says, “We’ve got to be more subtle or FEDRA’s gonna catch on and we haven’t got any protection in place yet.”

“That’s what I’m getting us,” Joel says, “protection. And, speaking of protection,” he looks over at Frankie, he’s sitting next to you as usual, with his arm over your shoulder, “you two can’t go on runs together, you don’t prioritize right when she’s with you and it puts the rest of us in danger.” 

“Joel,” Benny interjects, he can see Frankie’s hackles rising, “we came all the way from Arlington and it was never an issue, Fish’s got everyones’ back.” 

“She nearly got us killed yesterday,” Joel growls, “because he wasn’t paying attention to covering us, only her. No offense, darlin’,” he says, looking over at you and you’ve never felt less like someone’s ‘darlin’ with the way he’s looking at you, “I’m sure you can handle yourself, but I ain’t working with you and Frankie together when it’s plain as daylight who his first priority is.” Joel shifts his look over to Frankie before he lands on Will, “He’d try to save her even if it was hopeless, he’s too focused on her.” 

“Well, I guess that’s us out then, Will,” Frankie growls just as low as Joel in response, “because I’m not letting her go out on a run without me.” 

“She’s a good shot and a great look out, Joel,” Pope interjects, looking at you and giving you a small smile, “I’d work with her any day. And Fish, I trust him with my life,” Pope looks over at Joel again, “we need both of them.”

“Like I said,” Joel is standing up, getting ready to leave, “I’m sure she can handle herself and I know Frankie’s as skilled as any of you guys, but I don’t trust them together, she makes him unfocused and I ain’t risking my life for it.” 

Frankie opens his mouth to snarl something, but Will’s quick nod at him makes him snap his mouth shut while Tommy stands up and joins Joel at the door. 

“Thanks for the whiskey, see y'all tomorrow,” he says, giving a wave as Joel disappears out the door and he follows, an uncomfortable silence falling over the room when they’re gone. You’re chewing on the inside of your cheek, your eyes on your hands and you feel Frankie’s fingers flex around your shoulder. He inhales and opens his mouth to say something but you cut him off. 

“I’ll just stay behind, you need Frankie more than me,” you say to the room, “and you need Joel more than me.” 

“Cariño, fuck him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Frankie says, squeezing you under his arm but you shake your head. 

“He’s got a point, who would you save first, him or me?” You’re looking at Frankie and you can see in his eyes that he knows full well you’d be the first one he’d save, and you’d do the same for him. You hadn’t seen it until Joel put his finger on it, but your bond puts everyone else in danger. 

“It’s never been an issue, hermana,” Santi says from his corner of the couch, “we’re not in the army anymore, different rules apply and we adapt around it. Will would save Benny first if he had to choose.” 

“But Frankie doesn’t even want me going on smuggling runs,” you say, “I had to twist his arm to let me come,” Frankie’s eyes are pained when he meets yours, “You would rather I stayed behind and be safe.” 

He sighs, running his hand over his neck, “Yeah, I would, you know I hate the thought of you getting hurt, or worse.”

“So I won’t go anymore,” you shrug, pretending it doesn’t bother you, and stand up, getting ready to leave, “If I’m with you on a run your focus will be on me, and I know you won’t let me go with someone else. It’s just better if I don’t go at all.” You know Frankie isn’t fighting you on this because it’s what he wants, he’s trying to hide it but you see relief in his eyes as he gets up to join you. The other men remain silent, Benny opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it, closing it again as he stands up. He surprises you with one of his signature bear hugs instead. 

“I’d have you on my team any day,” he mutters close to your ear as his arms crush you to his chest, “fuck Joel.” His support makes you smile and you give him an extra squeeze before letting go. 

You’re subdued when you get back to your own apartment and Frankie hovers in the living room as you go to the bathroom to brush your teeth. You know him well enough after all these years to know what he’s doing, and when he comes in and leans on the door frame, watching your evening routine, you know he’s getting ready to speak after sorting the words in his head. 

“Cariño,” he begins, his hand shooting up and rubbing across his neck, “I can’t pretend like I won’t be calmer if you’re here, safe, instead of out dealing with FEDRA patrols, raiders and infected and all the other shit. Joel’s right, when we’re out there, I’m always focused on you, and I’m always worried about you, in a way I never was when it was just me and the guys on missions in the army or doing runs with Pope in Arlington.” He’s gripping the door frame, grinding his fingers into the wood as he speaks, his eyes seeking yours in the mirror as you continue to brush your teeth. When you look at him he takes a tentative step towards you, his hand coming out and resting on the small of your back, as if he wants to circle your waist and pull you close, but he’s not sure how you’ll react yet. “I know you wanna come with me too, I know you worried about me when I went out with Pope, but it’ll be different now, I’ll be with Will and Ben too, we’ll be able to handle anything, it won’t be as dangerous as before.” 

You spit the toothpaste out and rinse your mouth before meeting his eyes in the mirror, “I hate it,” you say, giving your head a small shake, “the idea of you being out there, in danger, I fucking hate it.” 

“I know,” Frankie says softly, his arm coming all the way around your waist and you lean into him. 

“If you don’t come back, I’m coming after you, you know that right?” you whisper into his chest. 

“I’ll come back, I promise I’ll always come back.” He’s turning you so that he’s got you pressed against him, his arms around you and holding you tight as he drops his head against the top of yours. 

“You can’t promise that, Frankie.” 

“Watch me,” he mumbles, “Just fucking watch me.” 

Chapter 29

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[dinah-stmaur]

An Adventure in Engineering

WHERE: Hewitt &Co., South London WHEN: June 6th, 1904 WHO: Benny Forester | @cescapist

It was on the day before they had left St Maur for London, that Dinah and Benny had first talked about looking for engineering companies that would take on apprentices instead of university graduates. Back then it was the seed of an idea, and as Mr Weatherstaff would tell her, one needed to take care of a seed in order for it to grow into a plant that would one day be able to bloom and bear fruits. So, they had done just that. By way of letters to one another and brief tea encounters, Dinah and Benny had found a few companies that had what interested him and had taken care to secure themselves a day to visit one of them.

Hewitt &Co. was a small but successful firm. Their building was in the South of London, well far away from the streets and roads that Dinah was used to walk to with her maid, here the streets were walked by the working class people that filled the factories that allowed the nobility to live in comfort. Even the air smelled different.  It held notes of coal, water, and something sweet that was hard to place. The company specialized in building and maintaining steam engines used into the modern process of brewing, among other things, which were employed by The Ram Brewery not far from there, in Wandsworth.

“I think that is it,” Dinah said, as the got off their cab, a few feet away from the building. It had a small plaque reading Hewitt & Co., Engineering & Machinery. She had never been in this part of London, and she was in equal part scared and excited by the prospect of what was a real adventure. More important than that, this was someone’s future. Benny’ future. If she was nervous, she could not imagine how he felt. “If you want to turn around and go back to get tea, I won’t fault you for it,” she said, though, in truth she wanted nothing more than to drag him inside of that office.