Page 23 of Bristol

I haven’t had a chance to feel anger throughout the last few days because all I could focus on was the fear that clouded my mind. The feeling of being captured again and restrained. I almost drove myself mad. I want to get away and be alone but I want the safety and security of Sebastian at the same time. He makes me feel safe. Validated. Heard.

“Come on, darlin’. Let’s go home.” He says the word darlin’ with so much affection it makes my heart swell. I am overwhelmed by all of the emotions that are racing through my heart, my mind, my body.

I hop into the passenger seat after giving Mo a quick hug and telling him thank you. He reassured me that everything would be okay and that they were going to do everything they could to get this set straight.

As soon as we’re alone, the first words out of Sebastian’s mouth are, “I’m sorry”.

“It’s okay. You didn’t do it.”

“No, but if it weren’t for Princess, you wouldn’t even be in this situation. She’s been 86’d. She’s done. Never allowed around here again. And if she knows what’s good for her, she won’t be seen in this fucking town or at least not where any of us get wind of it. I have never in my life wanted to put my hands on a woman the way I wanted to strangle the fucking life out of her when she stood by while you were being shoved into that car looking so fucking smug.”

His face reddens as he speaks and I can tell this has fucked him up. Maybe not in the capacity that it’s fucked me up, but enough for it to show.

“She’ll get what’s coming to her. Karma will handle her.”

Sebastian nods and is quiet for the rest of the drive. We arrive at his apartment and I go straight into the bathroom to shower. I can’t wait to wash the last two days off of me.

I step into the stream of hot water and let it beat down on my back. Before I got out of that terrible industrial warehouse, a bath was all I got. Now, the thought of getting in the bathtub makes me want to fight people. A good shower though? I could stand under this stream until the water has long been cold.

I dip my head under the water, letting it beat down on my face then the top of my head. Somehow, standing in this shower gives me a security I didn’t expect. A security that I can feel all of the things that I’ve been feeling. A low whimper slips out of my mouth as tears begin to freefall from my eyes that are already swollen from all of the crying over the last few days.

Images flash through my mind of the day I went missing, the day that my family was murdered, those photos that were placed so insensitively in my face. I see flashes of my mother, cooking in the kitchen and dancing with my father. My little brother running around as a small child. These images haunt me and that familiar pressure in my chest rises. It’s suffocating. I feel like I can’t breathe.

I slowly slide down to the floor of the shower and pull my knees into my chest while my body betrays me and begins to tremble. It hurts so fucking bad and I just want it to stop. I wish this was all a giant nightmare and that none of this was a reality. I don’t understand how this is my life now. How did it come to this? This isn’t how it was supposed to be!

The shower curtain is pulled back, drawing my attention. I must look like an absolute trainwreck, but Sebastian doesn’t seem to mind. He steps in behind me and slides down to the floor with me, fully clothed. Boots and all. He pulls me into his arms and lets me cry into him until the water is so cold I can’t stand it anymore. He stands up and turns the water off, wraps me in a towel, and carries me to the bed. I lay there recovering from everything that I’ve felt the last few days and Sebastian goes back into the bathroom.

The sound of the shower turning back on makes me wonder what Sebastian is doing, but exhaustion beats curiosity and I am lulled to sleep by the sound.

I wake briefly when he crawls into the bed beside me, pulling my back into his front. The smell of him engulfs me and I fall asleep in the comfort of his arms.

Chapter Eight

SEBASTIAN

Ispend most of the night awake, my mind racing faster than I thought possible. I make a mental note of my to-do list. First things first, we’ve got to clear Bristol’s name. Then, we need to locate Patrick. I’m haunted by them taking Bristol away. The look of pure terror in her eyes gutted the fuck out of me and I don’t know what I’m going to do to make this go away, but I’m going to figure it the fuck out.

She is restless all night, tossing and turning every thirty minutes or so. Around the time I finally doze off, she’s rolling around the bed again. I can’t blame her. She’s been through so much and yet somehow still manages to continue to go through everything that keeps being thrown at her.

The list keeps growing. Princess’s drama at the clubhouse, finding out her entire family has been murdered by the man that kept her captive and did who the hell knows what to her for years, then getting arrested at gunpoint by the FBI. What a fucking year she’s having.

My mind finally shuts off long enough for me to catnap for about an hour before I say fuck it and sneak out of the bed, careful not to wake her since she’s finally sound asleep.

I sit on the couch in my living room with my phone in hand. It’s five in the morning and it’s Friday. I know half of the people I need to get in touch with are either still awake from Thursday night shenanigans, or they’re about to be waking up to start their day. That’s the thing about having connections on all sides of the spectrum, you can usually get in touch with at least half of who you need at any given point in the day.

I shoot a text to Maurice asking him to give me all the information he can about Patrick. I’ve been waiting for Joey to get back with me about a lead he had and he’s taking too fucking long. Time to take things into my own hands.

While I wait for a response, I pop a pod in the Keurig and fix a cup of French Vanilla coffee. No cream. No sugar. Just coffee with a hint of vanilla. I pace around the apartment while my mind continues to race. I feel like there are so many things that I need to be doing but I can’t focus on a single one to complete one solid task.

My phone vibrates in my hand with a detailed text from Mo. There’s a start. Now that one thing has been accomplished, now I need to figure out how we are going to clear her name. Maurice has already said that he has no problem testifying on her behalf, but I want to sit her down and talk to her and figure out what she’s told the authorities. Not that I’m concerned about what she could say about me or the club, but because we all need to be on the same page. It wouldn’t help her case if it appears any of us are lying. I’ll stand up on her behalf too.

At the end of the day, no one of us has done anything wrong. If anything, we’re the good guys. She just has to convince the cops of that. Which isn’t an easy task, considering the circumstances surrounding this situation.

The sun begins to peek through the curtains of the sliding glass doors that lead out to the balcony, reminding me why I wanted this apartment so bad. The view from this balcony is the best view of the sunrise and I have a pretty sweet view of the lights along the beach at night.

My phone vibrates again.

Mo: Meet me at the clubhouse.

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