by K R Caverly
We lie there for a while, breathing heavily, looking at the TV and recounting everything that just happened, thinking about how close we were to death, but how, even now, we still have each other. We're still just pieces of what we once were, but I can feel the pieces of my heart coming together, and they're here for one thing and one thing only: him.
I love Sebastian.
I love everything about him.
Even though I shouldn't.
Even though I know it's wrong.
I love him.
I love that I'm his prisoner.
I love everything about our setup.
After a while, Sebastian sits up and brings me a small dinner, saving only a small portion of it for himself. "Eat up," he says quietly, offering me the plate. I take it with a thank you.
Sebastian looks beautiful in the candlelight, his face so mysterious and masculine, tortured and vulnerable. I find myself entranced with his lips, with the way they move as he speaks, so much that I just want to reach out and kiss him. I barely keep myself from doing so.
I turn back to the TV as I eat, letting myself sink back into the world of pointless reality shows and crime dramas, feeling normal for the first time in a while. The food and wine tastes so good after everything that happened today, and I find myself feeling happy again for the first time since the night Ash died. Feeling… less scared. Feeling like this all will work out, as long as Sebastian is with me.
"Are you okay, angel?" Sebastian says quietly, turning to me. His blue eyes are like jewels in the dim light.
I frown. "What do you mean?"
He sighs. He reaches out a hand and starts stroking my dark hair, smiling a little to himself, one of those secret smiles I wish I could be a part of. "I mean, you," he breathes, his words tickling at my ear. "How are you?"
"Oh." I look down at my feet. "I'm… okay, I guess."
Sebastian keeps running his fingers through my hair. It's so relaxing, making me want to close my eyes and let everything but this moment, this feel of him stroking me, melt away. "And you still don't hate me?" he asks hopefully.
"No." My voice is quiet, mixing with the sounds of the crickets outside. "No, I guess I don't."
Sebastian forces a smile. "I'm glad. You know I'd never hurt you, right? I just want to be here for you. I've been hurt so many times before. I've left everyone I cared about in my life. I don't want to leave you too, or for you to leave me. You're my one constant. You're the one person I need."
"I need you too, Sebastian," I whisper, sipping my glass of wine and lacing my arms around his body. "And I know. I know you… mean well."
"I do, angel," he coos into my ear, nipping lightly at my earlobe with his teeth, and suddenly I'm back at the hotel room, loving the feel of him on me. "I do care about you." He continues to kiss me, this time on the neck, and I lean my head back, taking it all in--the heat from his lips, the tingles he gives me.
I let him kiss me for a while before asking, "Where are we?" I motion at the house around of us. "Is this… is this where you live?"
Sebastian sighs, pulls back. "Sort of," he admits, but his voice doesn't sound convincing. It's more distant than anything, like he himself is lost in another world. In another time, another place. Maybe back to when we were in hotel room 364, when nothing mattered but each other.
"And where do we sleep?"
"We sleep downstairs." Sebastian says quietly.
"Why not up there?" I ask through a bite of pasta, pointing to the staircase leading to a floor above us.
"Just trust me, angel. And please don't go upstairs," he says. "Okay?"
"Okay."
We don't say anything for a while after that. I go back to eating and watching TV, relaxing as Sebastian's arm slips around my own, warming me at the touch. It feels good to be with him again. It feels good not to worry. And while we weren't out of the woods yet, something about this house is so familiar and safe and homely, that with Sebastian beside me, everything feels complete. Everything feels okay, if only for a little while.
"Will you tell me about the man who was… torturing you?" I ask after a minute, locking eyes with him. "What did he want?" My voice is quiet and soft and I regret asking it as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I know I have to. I have to know.
"Nothing," Sebastian says, making it clear he doesn't want to talk about it.
I shift closer to him, not giving in quite yet. "He said something about a 'they'? People who were hiding? Who is that?" I ask gently.
"Yes," Sebastian says, closing his eyes. "'They.' He means the people I never killed. The ones who I let go into hiding."
I shift up against Sebastian, resting my head on his warm and broad shoulder. "Why did they go into hiding?" I keep looking out at the TV. He starts caressing my hair again, his fingers so gentle and smooth.
"Because Marco found out I didn't kill them all too quickly," he whispers, and his voice sounds like a distant melody. "After only a few weeks, actually. And they knew they had to go into hiding because he would stop at nothing until they were dead. And I… helped them."
"Oh." I keep my gaze trained on my feet. "So this whole thing is about finding them? Why does Marco care about them so much?"
Sebastian sighs. "Angel, I'd rather not talk about this. Okay?"
I hesitate, then nod. "Okay," I say. "That seems fair."
We're silent after that as I finish my dinner. The whole time I find myself listening to the sound of his forks clinking on his plate, feeling the quiet lull of the place take me away. I focus on the TV for a while. I'm not really paying attention to the show, just the voices in it, the sounds of their normalness as they carry me away. I eat until my dinner is totally gone, drink all of the wine, and then I relax, taking in several deep breaths, feeling relieved and okay. My muscles still ache from before, but everything else feels in place, feels right for once in my life.
Finally, after maybe an hour, Sebastian stands up. He peels off his blood-soaked shirt right in front of me, and I watch him despite myself, fascinated with the look of his bare muscle in the candlelight, wanting nothing more than to run my hands along his skin. He grabs a warm cloth and dabs it against a cut on his stomach, wincing a little.
I stand up despite myself, drifting toward him. "Allow me," I whisper. He hesitates, but lets me take the cloth from him. There is nothing but the sound of crickets outside and each of our heavy breaths, mingling together, as I dab the warm cloth against his stomach, feeling his muscle beneath it.
Sebastian isn't looking at me as I work. He just keeps staring off into the distance, as if he's seeing into a world I can't make out. I listen to the gentle sloshing of warm water as I refill the cloth, then press it back against his body, rubbing it gently around the wound.
"Do you love me?" Sebastian asks after a while, his eyes still trained on the door.
I hesitate as I dab the cloth against his wound. He doesn't even wince. Not once. "Does it really matter?"
"Yes," he says. "Everything matters when it comes to you, angel."
"Oh." I blush despite myself. Sebastian's gaze drift down to mine at that, and I feel the intensity in his stare as I consider his question. Do I love him? Do I really? I already know the answer, of course. I already know it's the reason I've stuck by him all this time, the reason he makes me feel the way he does. "Then yes," I say, meeting his gaze. My words are slow and quiet, but they sound so right as they roll off my tongue. "Yes, I love you."
A smile spreads across his face. Not a cocky smile this time, though. Not a forced one, either. Just a genuine, warm smile. "I love you too. But you already knew that."
"Yes," I say, pressing up against his warm body. I smile despite myself, because just Sebastian smiling makes me smile. "I did."
He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in, burying his nose in my hair and breathes in the scent of me. His arms are thick and muscular, and they feel so great around mine. All I want to do then is to stay there forever, in his arms, for him to rock me b
ack and forth and kiss me until there is nothing left in the world but him and me.
"Make the pain go away, angel," Sebastian says after a minute, holding me by the arms and leaning back so he can look into my eyes.
I hesitate, still clutching the warm cloth in my hand. "But your cut--"
"Forget the cut," he says, unfurling my fingers so the cloth falls to the ground. "You are all I need."
His fingers lace with mine, and just the touch of his skin makes my stomach feel hot, makes my body buzz with energy and desire. I feel his erection pressing against me again as he holds me, feel each little groove of his body against me. And I want him again. My skin is numb and tingly, and I know I want him. I know I love him.
"Can I have you?" he repeats, bringing his lips down on mine. His kiss is hot and fiery, sending an ache throughout my body and leaving me wanting so much more. He moves his hands around my hips, pressing his torso to my back, and the feel of him on me is addicting, intoxicating.
"Yes," I say as he pulls back. Then I lock eyes with his. "Take me," I whisper.
And he does.
* * *
I find myself gasping for breath by the time Sebastian and I finish. Everything about him is so incredibly sexy, from the taste of his lips to the gentleness of his touch to the arch of his muscle to the moans he gives me to the feel of him inside of me. My skin is still hot and sweaty and shivery, and as I slip on my underwear, I find myself watching Sebastian dress beside me, fascinated with each little movement of his body, with the muscle in his chest and the arch of his back and the little V veins his torso make. I love him, love him even when I shouldn't. He is dangerous, he's a killer, and yet, everything about him feels so right.
Once he's put on his underwear, he walks over to the couch and pushes off the cushions, then unlocks a mattress and pulls it out. He grabs some sheets and a blanket from a basket beside the couch and spreads them out across the mattress, tucking them in on either side.
"We sleep here tonight, angel," he says quietly, shifting the pillows from the couch to the mattress.
He sits down at the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over and into the sheets. When I don't move to join him, he pats the space beside him. I sit down, my hand brushing his. Sebastian smiles a little, reaches out, and gently wraps his arms around my body, drawing me into his chest.
"You feel so good," he whispers into my ear. I lie there beside him, in the bed, with the candles flickering throughout the huge and dark and empty living room.
I don't say anything. There aren't any words to say. There is just the feel of him.
"You're sleeping with me tonight," he continues. "But that means I have to keep you here. That means I have to… hold you here." He pulls a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. "Okay?"
I hesitate, glancing between the handcuffs and his fiery blue eyes. "You don't trust me?" I say, not bothering to hide the hurt in my voice.
Sebastian sighs, shakes his head. "It isn't an issue of trust, angel. People don't leave you because they don't trust you, or because you don't trust them to stay. People leave you because they don't know better, because they don't even realize they're leaving you until it's too late. And I'm not taking that risk with you," he whispers. "I'm not risking losing you too."
The genuine hurt in his words is almost too much to bear. My heart aches for him, wishes I can make him better. I need him to feel okay, just like he makes me feel okay. Our relationship has always been about that; healing the other with our touches and our words. But sometimes, I doubt that I'm really healing him. Sometimes, I think no one can heal Sebastian.
"Okay," I say, wishing I had the strength to say no. "But don't make them tight, please?"
Sebastian smiles a little. "Of course, angel," he says, gently clasping the handcuff to my hand, then attaching it to the bottom of the mattress. "Anything for you." He kisses me when he's done, a long, drawn out kiss that sends a shiver through my body. "Does that feel okay?" he whispers, blue eyes piercing mine.
"Yes."
"Good." Sebastian lies back down now, looking up at the ceiling, and I follow his lead. The ceiling is empty, nothing but white paint, but there is something beautiful in how ordinary it is. I wish I were ordinary, sometimes. I wish none of the bad things ever happened. But then I realize that being ordinary never made me all that happy either. Being ordinary never gave me any of these experiences, never made me feel as alive as Sebastian does. Being ordinary is kind of overrated.
Maybe everyone should be shards. Maybe that's the point.
"Do you think we're ever going to escape for good?" I ask after a while, not looking at him. "Do you think Marco will ever give up?"
I hear Sebastian shake his head beside me. "I don't know. I think we just have to hope."
"Hoping hasn't gotten me very far," I mutter so quietly that I don't mean for Sebastian to hear, but he must anyway, because I hear him say to himself, "Me too."
We're silent for a long while after that. I listen to the crickets outside, to the whirring of the fan above me, and I find myself wondering if this place is going to be my home now, if I'm ever going to get out. But at least I'm with Sebastian. At least I still have him. And for now, that's all I need.
"Angel," he whispers after a few hours have passed, right when I'm on the verge of falling asleep.
"Yes?" I say, sitting up and turning to him.
He's not looking at me, though. His gaze is still trained on the ceiling. "In case anything ever happens, I want you to know something. I want… I want to have a plan B." He turns to me now, locking eyes with mine. "Okay?"
I nod. "Of course," I say softly.
"You aren't going to like it," he says, eyes on mine.
I hold my breath. Just the idea of losing him, losing anyone else, hurts too much to explain. "Tell me."
He sighs. He reaches out a hand and starts running his fingers through my hair, his blue eyes so soft and sad, as if he regrets something. "Angel, I've done bad things," he whispers. "You know that. And you may learn some things about me soon… that just… they aren't good things. I regret them, though. Each and every one of them. But if it gets to the point where you hate me, where you're hurt inside and just want to leave me, then we need to end this. Even with the risks," he whispers. "And then, afterward, if you decide you need to, you can leave me forever. No questions asked. I'll let you go." He moves in closer to me, his hot breath on my lips. "I hope you know that, angel. I hope you know that I'll always let you go if you absolutely need to leave."
My heart skips a beat. What is it Sebastian is hiding from me? "What's the plan?" I say. I make sure my voice doesn't shake. I make sure I'm strong, strong for him.
"To go with Marco," he says quietly, eyes still on mine. "He won't kill you on sight if you tell him you have… information about me. Give me up and save yourself, angel. I need to pay for my sins sometime. You don't deserve to be pulled down with me."
"So you want me to go to his house and kill him?" I say quietly, staring back at him, at the curve of his jaw, the deep tan of his skin. The scary thing is, I know I'll do it. I'll do anything to be happy, to be with Sebastian. I've been hurt so much before, broken to the point where I barely know who I am anymore, that I know I'll do anything I need to be happy again.
Sebastian shakes his head. "Don't do that. Trying to hurt him at his house will only get you killed by his guards. Just give me up, angel, if something bad were ever to happen." His eyes lock with mine. "Can you do that for me?"
"Yes," I say quietly, knowing it's a lie. "I can." But a part of me keeps wanting to ask him what exactly it is he is hiding from me, what it is that is going on, what he's holding back that could potentially ruin all of this. I tell myself it's nothing, though. Tell myself I can trust Sebastian. I have to trust Sebastian. Because without him, who can I possibly trust? I have no one left but him.
He smiles lightly, then kisses my forehead. "Goodnight," he says, rolling over so his back is to me. "I love you."
; But I don't say anything. I just stare up at the ceiling, thinking and thinking. I think about happiness and what I'd do to achieve it. I think about how much pain I feel every day, and how much I want to be with Sebastian and not have to worry about anything ever again. And then, I think about how a part of me, a deep and dark part of me, would do anything to make the pain go away. Would do anything to make me happy again, to make me feel less broken.
Absolutely anything.
"I can kill him, you know," I say suddenly, horrified by my own words. "If you think that'll help."
Sebastian muscles tense up as soon as the words escape me. He turns over to me, his eyes fiery, his voice filled with anger and something else… fear, maybe? "No. You shouldn't do that. Don’t give that up for me. Don't be like me, angel. You never want to be like me."
"But getting rid of him will take away the pain. And I want us to be happy," I say quietly, staring down at my hands. "Is being happy really too much to ask?"
He keeps shaking his head, his eyes so, so sad. "Don't say that, angel," he whispers. "Please. Just don't say that."
"Okay," I say quietly, my eyes glistening with tears. "Okay."
Chapter Fourteen
The next few days go by quickly, and Sebastian and I stay in the house at the top of the hill, still safe for now. I have no idea how Marco's men found us last time, so I catch myself constantly looking behind me, checking to make sure no one is following me, or is here to kill me, or whatever his men want. But no one is. Not yet, at least. Neither Sebastian nor I go upstairs, which makes me wonder what it is he is hiding from me, but I try not to worry about it. I've learned not to question Sebastian. He is who he is. He does what he does for reasons I'm never going to understand. And at the end of everything, all that matters is that we're together.