Page 68 of Hold On

I know. I was driving the getaway car. I have an ambulance on the way. Hold on.

I stare at the screen, Bash sobbing to my right. Nothing is forming in my brain correctly. I text him back, not even sure of what I’m doing.

She’s already gone…

Three dots appear and disappear. It’s a long moment before they return.

I’m sorry.

I read his reply before looking to Bash, his bare toes newly painted. His mother’s blood seeps between them, marring my paint job and covering his foot.

I’m not.

And I mean it. It’s the last band-aid to rip off for Bash. To set him free from a childhood of pain and disappointment. Years of unmet needs and withheld love.

He suddenly stops screaming. Tears run down his face. His eyes meet mine.

“I hated her so much, Lina Girl,” he seethes as I nod my head, understanding he’s experiencing sheer heartbreak.

“I know, baby.”

“Thenwhydoes ithurtsobadly?!” he screams at me. I just shake my head, having no real answer for him.

“Emotions are a bitch, Sebastian.”

He howls, shattering.

Chapter Thirty-Six: Now

Sebastian:

I feel hollow and free. I’m not sure what to do with these feelings. Alina’s sleeping upstairs. I fucking can’t. So, I’m down in the garage, trying to find the fucking plague doctor mask.

I haven’t been in here for a long time, the contents of the garage being a relic to the life I was unhappily living before. Funny how you can get exactly what you asked for and have it turn out to be nothing like what you thought it would. I sigh, scratching my chin.

Imissmy mom.

And Ihateit.

We never reconciled. And I wish we had. I’d tried. But I wasn’t about to accept a half-assed relationship with her when that’s all I got in my youth. I needed more and she just refused to give it. I have to accept that I’ll never receive the love I craved from her or my father.

And now they’re both dead.

But the one person who did always love me, who stilldoes, needs my help. And I won’t fucking fail her, like my parents failed me or like her father failed her. Iwillmake sure that Alina gets to live, no matter the personal cost to myself. I’ll willingly die for her if it means that she gets to see the day she is no longer indebted to another human being. So, I start throwing boxes around in search of the mask, imagining her dressed as a foxy, little vixen for me. A big, bushy tail coming out of her perfect asshole, knowing I’ll be the one that gets to insert the plug.Grinning, I imagine doing just that in front of the fuckhead who abused her. I want Luke to see her submissive and perfect before me, while he watches me pleasure and service her in a way he never has.

I want him to see what it looks like when she fucks someone she actually loves and allows them into her bodywillingly. I can’t wait to throat fuck her slowly while he pays attention to every inch she takes of me as she cries tears of gratitude for the dick I feed her. Luke will regret abusingmyfuck doll. I’ll make actual love to her as he dies at our feet, the worthless piece of shit that he is.

My heartaches.

I didn’t feel this way when my dad passed. I was fucked up and didn’t really understand all of my feelings at the time. I drank a lot when I got the news, which confused me. But I later determined I was more mourning the loss of my innocence at his hand than my actual father.

Believe me, I had been happy when they put that fucker in the ground.

But this feeling is almost splitting me in two. I know my mom was a victim as well. And that makes it hard to fully hate her. It’s easy to be angry, but my heart knows deep down that my anger is from feeling like I failed her. Something else I learned too late was never mine to carry. But I had. And it had pushed me into the arms of addiction. And now I feel that void yawning open, talking to me as I look around through the massive collection of shit I paid someone to move in here for me.

Outfits and instruments and old memorabilia. A dusty keyboard on its stand. Rows upon rows of leathereverything. Dumb souvenirs from trips. A nasty box of panties leftover from random women who left their shit on my tour bus. I decide to throw this one out. This was my manager’s doing anyway, the weird bastard. Keith loved “keepsakes” and often talked of howhe wished we could trade places, for just a day. If he only knew the fucked up person I was inside. He never would’ve wanted to switch with me. Being inside my brain would make anyone go mad. Hence the drug addiction and canceled tour.

I’ve spent over half an hour searching through the immense amount of shit I used to call my life. The police have long been gone, and I feel as dark as the sky outside the garage. As soon as they heard Lina and I drop Luke’s name, they didn’t give a fuck about my mom and her cause of death. I’m getting frustrated thinking about it all without being able to find what I’m looking for. I’m about to give up when I stub my fucking toe on the stupid box.Figures. I quickly check to make sure my toenails aren’t fucking chipped. I could have Alina fix them for me, but we have much more pressing matters to deal with right now than my nail polish.

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