Page 47 of Hold On

“Make it a fucking Starbucks. Everyone is so loud in those places, no one will be able to hear us even if they’re trying to,” he decides.

He’s right. They’re the opposite of relaxing.

“You know, I don’t know how people go there to write. Half the time they’re so crowded, it seems like a very overstimulating environment,” I say off-hand. Bash nods, considering what I said as he eats more fries.

“That’s exactly why it’s where we’re going tomorrow,” he smirks. I smirk back, feeling so alive around him as we do normal-ass shit. Things that others take for granted, like eating takeout in an empty parking lot. Things we’ve never really been able to do together. Not to the extent we’ve ever craved before.

Well, the fast-food is normal. The murder?Meh. Guess it depends on who you ask.

“What should we do tonight?” I ask mischievously. I want to fill every remaining moment together with meaningful shit. Just in case something happens to us.

“Mmm. I have an idea,” he says with a devilish grin that melts my panties clean off my body. “But first I was thinking that you’d probably like some of your own clothes. Did you want to grab some things from your place?” My body stiffens at his suggestion. I begin to sweat at the thought of going home. I’ve been wearing Bash’s baggy things for days, along with a pair of my own sweatpants. “Lina Girl,” he says quietly. “I’ll buy you anything you need if that’s not an option for you.”

That almost makes it worse. I shake my head no. He already paid to have my house cleaned.

“It’s good to face your fears,” I blurt, although I sound anything but brave. “We should get some of my things.”

“Let’s get it done now. Then we can go to the next place I have in mind,” he says mysteriously. He gives me a cocky smile. I’m buckling my seatbelt quickly, ready to go fucking anywhere with him. I can handle anything with Bash Cox by my side.

*****

Sebastian:

Her street is quiet. It’s late and the homes are mostly filled with sleeping families. I park in her driveway and turn off the car. She’s staring at her lap, her body trembling. “Breathe, Lina Girl,” I encourage her softly. She takes a deep breath, holding it in. “Baby,” I emphasize as she looks to me with tortured eyes.

“You’re coming with me, right?” I grab her hand.

“To the ends of the earth, my gorgeous rag doll,” I whisper. She finally releases the breath she’s holding.

“You haven’t called me that in ages,” she says on a sob, her emotions amping up. “Make me your rag doll forever,” she whimpers. I nod my head yes aggressively.

“Done.” I pull her face into my neck, holding her for a few seconds, breathing in her scent. She still uses that coconut lime shampoo. I bury my nose in her waves of purple hair and allow her to use me to gain her courage. I’ll do anything for her. “Let’s go, baby,” I softly say, deciding that waiting here any longer will only make it worse for her in the long run. She nods. We both exit the car.

I grab her hand as we climb the steps to her porch. I unlock the door, her key still on my keyring from helping the cleaning crew enter earlier. The smell of heavy chemicals hits my nose as the door opens. That’s a welcomed change. The previous smell was fucking horrendous. Alina walks into the doorway and looks around, her hands jammed into her sweats as she surveys her living room.

Her eyes linger by the couch and the table next to it.

“He ruined my coffee table stubbing out a cigarette,” she says quietly. Without hesitating, I grab it, hating this fucking table as much as I hate Luke. I walk back outside to the front porch. “Bash, what are you doing?” she whispers urgently, not wanting to draw neighborhood attention to us. I smirk before I chuck the table onto the sidewalk outside of her home, the wood splintering and cracking loudly in the middle of the night. Her shocked eyes are wide as she watches the pieces settle. The quiet that returns to the area is a little eerie. Then she levels me with a stare. “That was fucking hot,” she admits as I nod my head knowingly. I lick my lips, turning back to her fully.

“I know you had to struggle before and that certain things came to you by a lot of work. But fuck Luke and fuck that table for holding any power over you. You deserve so much better than the shit you’ve been settling for, baby.” My adrenaline ispumping as I push my way past her, walking back inside. I inspect the rest of the house, making sure there’s no blood or anything nasty that was missed. Alina trails behind me, silently assessing it all too.

Alina:

Bash finally walks into the master bedroom as my heart begins to pound. “So, what exactly happened in here?” he asks as he flips on the light switch to the bathroom. I stumble back a few steps, half-expecting to see Luke shitting on the toilet again, staking his goddamn claim. It’s empty though, the floor below the toilet pristinely clean. It feels fake somehow. Like it’s a facade. I lock my arms around myself for comfort. Bash looks back at me and pauses, seeing the anxiety written across my face. He waits patiently for me to speak.

“When I got here that night, he’d hidden his car. So, I came into my home thinking I had a moment to gather myself and change out of the clothes you gave me,” I start as tears automatically fall from my eyes. All I can see in my head is Luke sitting on my toilet in his purple suit and white tiger-striped shirt, laughing as his gun sits pointed at me. I shiver. “I really thought it was going to be the last time we’d see each other, and I wanted to change out of your clothes. I wanted to protect that part of me. The one that Luke knew nothing about. Because our memories from high school have always kept me going when shit hit the fan in my life. But he pulled a gun on me and made me stand here, watching him shit. He was reading my magazines and pointing to things, making dumbass conversation…” I trail off. Bash is breathing heavily. I can see the anger growing in his eyes. “He clogged my toilet on purpose, so his literal shit covered the floor as it overflowed.”

“Jesus,fuck, Lina Girl,” Bash cries exasperated as he scrubs his hands down his face.

“The worst part is he didn’t even wash his hands, and he was touching my fucking face and shit,” I say absentmindedly, as I feel Bash grab my arm, throwing me into his chest. I bury my face into him, breathing in his scent. His body shakes as he begins to cry, his tears falling into my hair. It feels so good to finally have someone care so deeply about me. His fingers grip my body as I dream about melting into them forever. He could play his guitars knowing I live inside them all. But I’ll settle for this moment instead, being completely seen and taken care of by the most handsome and kindhearted man I’ve ever met. Sebastian Cox is my literal dream come true. I don’t even care what happens to me anymore. As long as I die in his arms, at least I’ll have made it to heaven.

Sebastian:

I can’t stop crying, so I don’t try to hide it as I sit on Alina’s bed and watch her pack a bag. I can tell she’s taking a few things that are meaningful, like a closed double-sided picture frame from her nightstand and a small bag of jewelry. I hope that means she’s planning on staying with me and is bringing these comforts to my place to make it more ofourplace. She’s deep in her own head, so I just wait patiently, sobbing silently.

I’m devastated for her. That she left my house and entered that hell all alone. That I let her go, getting into that fucking Uber to come here… Leaving to meet Luke will reside next to that fucking night I made her spend in that god forsaken shed with me as my biggest regrets slash mistakes in life. I’m so fucking ashamed of myself.

“Bash,” she whispers as she approaches me, hand outstretched. I shake my head no, swallowing hard.

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