DON’T HURT MY BABY

by Zoey Parker

  “And this is your first time making it out here,” Bastard commented as they stepped inside her apartment. It was small but cozy, lit with strings of colored lights and fabric draped over antique looking lampshades. Kitschy, artsy, and very different from most places Bastard inhabited in life. He took it all in while Andi approached them with two wine glasses.

  “Come in. Come in.” Andi handed off the glasses and gestured toward her low-sitting plush couches. “Make yourself at home. Kitty girl, this is your new pad.”

  Kit grinned, looking up at Bastard as though to reassure him. He set Kit’s duffel bag on the ground and then eased down onto the couch, his leather cut crinkling as he settled into place.

  “Andi, you are too good to me.” Kit nestled beside Bastard, tucking her legs under herself. “She’s the only friend I have where I could call them up on a whim and say ‘hey, can I move in with you real quick?’”

  “Maybe you’ll stay long term, too,” Andi said, easing onto the loveseat opposite Bastard and Kit. “You know your career could really take off out here.”

  He sniffed at his wine, unsure if he’d drink it. Fruity sweetness reached him. He took a tentative sip. It wasn’t horrible, at least.

  “I need to check in with Dipper and see if he’s gotten any updates about the stalker,” Kit said, taking a generous gulp at her glass. The sweet wine must be a chick thing. Or maybe that was the secret—down it all in one gulp. “And just to let him know we made it.”

  “Sure, babe. Give him a call. Tell him I said hi, too.” Andi flashed a secretive smile, one that betrayed their longstanding friendship. Kit pushed up from the couch, squeezing her friends shoulder.

  “I’ll be right back. I gotta take a piss, then I’ll call Dipper and see what’s up.”

  Andi directed her toward the back of the apartment, gesturing behind her. Once Kit disappeared down the hallway, Andi assessed Bastard with a smirk.

  “So. Another biker.”

  He narrowed his eyes, twirling the wine glass between his thumb and forefinger. “Another one?”

  “Her last guy was a biker,” Andi said. “You two look great together, not gonna lie. How long you been dating?”

  Bastard felt his chest tighten. These words didn’t belong in his life. “We, uh…we’re not, I guess. I don’t know.”

  Andi nodded. “Yeah, I get it. Her last guy couldn’t give up the road. Must be something with the biker life, huh?”

  Bastard studied the carpet as her words made rounds inside him, leaving a painful wake. It was more than the biker life. It was his life. And whatever had happened between him and Kit wasn’t gonna change that.

  Even if seventy-two hours with Kit made him feel like they were so much more.

  She’s just a stranger. A good lay. A fuck buddy. Why did it feel like convincing himself? He cleared his throat, downing the rest of his wine in one gulp. Tangy and sweet. And now he could leave, like he needed, like he should want to.

  “I need to hit the road soon,” Bastard said.

  “You aren’t staying the night?” Andi looked crestfallen. Maybe she was excited for the visitors. Maybe she just wanted to see her friend happy for once. Bastard couldn’t help with either of those.

  “I gotta get back to the club. They’ve been waiting on me since Olympia.” He stood, setting his wine glass down on the countertop nearby. He looked toward the back of the apartment, where Kit’s voice drifted from. Probably on the phone with Dipper.

  If he left now, he could escape without a trace. She’d never find him. He could make the clean break that he was famous for.

  “You sure you don’t want another glass?” Andi came to her feet, heading toward the bottle. “You drank yours so quick.”

  “I’m fine.” He tugged at his cut, eyes on the back of the apartment. If she came out now, she’d beg him to stay. He didn’t want to tell her no. He just wanted this to be quick and easy. Get the hell back to your regular life.

  Unattached, answering to no one. Like he was used to. Like he needed to be.

  “I really should get going,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “She knows I had to hit the road.”

  Andi didn’t look convinced. “But don’t you want to—”

  “Thanks for the wine. You girls have fun.”

  He bolted out of the apartment, his legs oddly leaden, every step away from Kit feeling harder than the last.

  This was what he needed to do…even if he didn’t want to.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Kit hung up the phone just as she heard the front door shut. She headed for the front of the apartment. Andi was alone, pouring herself another glass.

  “Where’s Bastard?” Just asking the question made her stomach knot. He’s gone. He left without saying goodbye.

  “He left,” Andi said. Kit raced toward the door, her feet echoing down the hall as she bolted toward the front of the building. No. He can’t just leave like that. Not without goodbye. She pushed the front door open just as Bastard swung his leg over his bike in the parking lot. She raced toward him, heart pounding.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I gotta go,” he said, voice testy. “You know this.”

  “But…just like that?” She held her hands out, gesturing around them. The night hung hazy and heavy around them, the only sounds the distant rush of traffic from the nearby freeway they’d arrived on. “No goodbye? No ‘see ya later’?”

  Bastard studied the ground, his jaw set. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  And there it was—the tone she’d been dreading. The coldness she should have figured was headed her way. “So you just wanted to hang out nonstop for four days and then act like it’s perfectly normal to disappear without saying anything?”

  “We didn’t hang out for four days,” Bastard said, tugging his riding gloves on. “I fucking did you a favor. I brought you to LA. Now I have to go back to work.”

  Tears sprang to her eyes. Fucking unbelievable. “Why are you being so weird?”

  “I’m not. This is actually who I am.”

  “You’re right.” She swallowed a knot of tears. “A fucking bastard. I should have known.”

  He hefted the bike with an unamused laugh. “Now you get it.”

  “Why do they call you Bastard anyway?” she demanded, desperation clawing at her. Why was she so hurt by this, so sad to see him go? They’d known each other for four days. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. “It’s cause of shit like this, huh?”

  “No.” He scowled as he tugged his helmet on. “It’s because I never knew my dad. He raped my mom and she never let me forget it.”

  Kit’s mouth parted, her heart wrenching. She stilled her hand as she caught herself reaching out for him. “I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t be. It’s life, Peach.” He squeezed his handlebars, avoiding her gaze.

  She studied the asphalt of the parking lot for a moment, painfully aware this was the last few moments between them. The last chance to salvage something that could have been. But Bastard had erected a wall so high she couldn’t even hope to scale it. “So that’s it? No number or anything? Never gonna see you again?”

  “Guess so,” he said, sniffing and looking into the distance.

  She shook her head, anger welling up. Anger laced with disappointment. What the fuck was she doing in this position again, hundreds of miles from home? No matter where she went, she couldn’t escape the uncommitted type. Even when he seemed so honest and interesting, so real and raw.

  “Well thanks for the ride,” she spat, crossing her arms over her chest. “Thanks for the fucks. Sorry to make you late. See you never.”

  Bastard didn’t respond, simply made the engine roar to life. He didn’t look at her while he revved the engine. A moment later he sped off through the parking lot, his disappearing tail lights forcing her to watch.

  “Fuck you!” She screamed into the night, and then turned on her heels, stomping back toward the apartment. She slammed the
door to Andi’s apartment, which made her friend jump.

  “That didn’t seem like the best goodbye,” she said with a grimace.

  “Yeah, it sure wasn’t.” Kit went straight to her glass and topped it off. She took a long sip before continuing. “Fuck him. That bastard.”

  “What the hell happened?”

  Kit shook her head, feeling tears collect in her throat again. “I don’t know. I don’t even fucking know.”

  “He seemed nice,” Andi offered.

  “Yeah, he was. Until…we got here. I don’t know.” Kit scowled, taking another drink at her glass. “I don’t know what I expected. I should have known. They’re all the same. Fucking bikers.”

  “But he’s your boyfriend?”

  “We weren’t dating,” Kit said, sinking into the couch. Andi came to sit beside her, stroking her arm while she talked. “I just met him like five days ago. He was hanging around the club where I sang. I noticed him; we fucked one night. And then he offered to give me a ride down here when I had problems with the stalker.”

  “Oh.” Andi frowned. “But it seemed like you two were so much more.”

  “Yeah.” Kit pinched at the bridge of her nose. “Felt that way too. We had chemistry. In all possible ways.”

  A heavy silence filled the room. Kit pouted, staring at the mauve tinted wine in her glass. It didn’t seem right to spill tears over Bastard. She’d hold out as long as she could.

  “Maybe bikers aren’t the way to go,” Andi finally said.

  Kit laughed, pressing her palm against her eyes. “Yeah. I think that’s probably true. Only five days in with this one and look how it turned out. I don’t know why they’re attracted to me, like fucking flies on honey.”

  “Because you’re a babe,” Andi said.

  Kit drew a ragged sigh. “Yeah. Bikers and stalkers. The Kit specialty.” She forced Bastard out of her mind, determined not to let him fuck up her first night in a new city. Let him be the bastard he was. After all, she’d gotten a free ride and a lot of fun fucks out of it. Couldn’t that be enough?

  “What did Dipper say?”

  “Well, he misses you, for one,” Kit said, struggling to recoup her lighthearted mood from before. “But no more info on the stalker for now.” She was with her oldest friend again, for the first time in years. What a crappy way to start it off, with heartbreak and drama. No, if L.A. was going to be her new home, at least temporarily, she needed to start on the right foot. Be stronger, more assertive. Definitely not fucked up over a transient nomad whose first inclination was to slink out of the apartment like a thief.

  “As he should,” Andi said. “Neither of you fuckers have come to visit me once, despite all my pleas.”

  “Money is so tight, Andi. You know how it is.” Kit shook her head. “But I’m changing that. I’m here now. And I’m gonna make some moves.”

  Andi grinned. “There we go. So you think you’ll stay out here for a while?”

  Kit sighed, a smile overcoming her face. “I guess we’ll see.”

  The girls clinked their classes and took a sip. Kit’s phone buzzed in her pocket and for a split second she was hopeful it was Bastard. But it was impossible, the asshole never even got her number. She fished it out, finding Dipper’s face on the call screen.

  “Oh, it’s Dipper. Maybe we can Facetime and get drunk together.” Kit giggled, swiping her phone onto speaker. “Hello?”

  “Kit. It’s me again. I have some news.”

  Kit’s stomach tightened at Dipper’s tone. When they’d hung up, Dipper had been on his way out of the bar to head to his boyfriend’s house. “Are you okay? What’s up?”

  He drew a long breath. “I need you to not freak out.”

  Kit frowned. “I can’t promise that. You can’t start a conversation that way. Dipper, what happened?”

  “I stopped by your apartment,” he said. She could practically see him grimacing while he spoke. “I just thought after we hung up that I should stop by to check it out. I mean, I have the key and everything.”

  “Right. Right.” Kit blinked over at Andi, who was sitting rigid at attention. “And?”

  “Your place has been broken into.”

  The news hung heavy in the air, like a poisonous cloud. Kit watched Andi for a few moments, unable to find her voice.

  “It was obvious from the outside,” Dipper went on. “I could tell the door had been jimmied, like they broke the lock. And I saw it was hanging open. So I went inside and…the place is trashed.” He sighed softly. “I didn’t look through everything, so I can’t tell if anything is missing or…” He tutted. “I’m so sorry Kit. But I think you made the right choice, going to LA.”

  Dipper covered her mouth with her hand. “It was Andrew, wasn’t it?”

  “That’s my guess,” Dipper said, sounding winded, like maybe he was jogging while on the phone. “I’ve called the police, Kit. This needs to be reported. We can’t let it hang like this anymore.”

  A wave of anxiety consumed her. All her things—broken into. Messed with. Possibly fondled or removed by an overzealous fan. This was nuts. “Okay. Good.” Even though she didn’t trust the cops, she knew he’d made the right choice. Maybe her only saving grace was that she barely left behind anything worth caring about. Besides her wallet and the clothes on her back…what did she even need?

  “Okay, the cops are here,” Dipper said, his footsteps sounding. “I gotta go.”

  “Thank you, Dipper,” Kit croaked out. “I appreciate this so much. Just let me know if you need anything, if I can talk to them…whatever.”

  “Of course, babe. Just stay safe where you are. And try to enjoy it…I’ll take care of everything here.”

  The line went dead and Kit gnawed at her lip, shaking her head.

  “I can’t fucking believe this,” she said, tossing her phone aside. “I mean, I guess you don’t realize how sick someone is until they fuck up your apartment. I just thought he’d tried to roofie me for a quick fuck. But he was willing to break into my house to get to me.”

  “That is not normal,” Andi echoed. “And Dipper was right. You made the right choice coming out here.”

  Kit stared into space for a few moments, letting the weird truth wash over her. Hundreds of miles away from the only city she’d ever known, with only one good friend at her side. It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t all bad either. Even beneath the murk of uncertainty there glittered a certain hope and excitement.

  “Well I guess this answers your question, then,” Kit said, reaching for her wine. “Looks like I’ll be staying for a while after all.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Bastard spent the next few weeks convincing himself he didn’t give a fuck. It was normally an easy thing to do, something like turning off a switch and being done with it.

  But Kit wouldn’t leave his mind. No matter what he did, no matter how many runs he went on…she lurked in the back of his mind like a goddamned shadow.

  How is she? Is she still in LA? Did they find the stalker? Questions popped up despite trying to keep them squashed. He wondered about her, nearly every day. And he hated every day that he’d never gotten her number.

  So you could do what? Text her a smiley face and never see her again anyway? Like he was capable of something stable with a woman. Not with his life. Not with his role as a nomad.

  He’d do well to remember that, too.

  When club business sent him back up to Olympia a few weeks after he’d dropped off Kit at Andi’s house, it was hard not to relive every moment of their trip down the Pacific Highway. Kit had been a firecracker in his life. She lit him up even though he’d thought every last bit of himself had been burnt away, completely spent.

  Convincing himself he shouldn’t reach out to her was the hard part though. He had a rationalization for every excuse. And just when he thought he’d stamped out the last dying embers of his interest, a new wave flared up. It was like she’d burrowed down into bone.

  Bastard’s stint in Ol
ympia was short and to the point: drop off a brick of product in exchange for cash. He spent one night in town, and went back to the Cat’s Claw as if on auto pilot. Pushing into the bar, he held his breath, desperate to see Kit’s wavy black locks, the sultry makeup, her luscious mouth.

  But she wasn’t there. Not even a band scheduled. Dipper was curiously absent as well. It was like he’d imagined them all. Maybe he’d never even met her. Maybe she’d just been a wild fantasy, like a dream that felt too real and haunted for days afterward.

  There was nothing to do but continue his life. Memories of Kit would fade. They had to. With enough time, he’d forget about her. He tried to trust it, even though he didn’t believe it.