Page 23 of Tear Me Down
This is temporary. A band-aid on a bigger issue, and I know I won't be fully satiated until I enact my revenge.He'sout there. Probably still reveling in a false sense of accomplishment after his pretentious party tonight. I should’ve ended it then and there, sliced into his throat until his body fell to the ground, and then held up his separated head for everyone to see—gripped in my hand like a trophy. Though no, I had to wait. Stare at his disgusting outstretched hand and touch the devil himself.
Taking another deep breath, I will myself to calm down, allowing my vice and the act behind me to settle in before I spiral downward into my pit of self-loathing. I gather my resolve long enough to start walking back to the bike. Each step feels more and more like a victory, until my attention is drawn to bright headlights pulling into the bar’s gravel parking lot, racing in at a highspeed and swerving to park. I pull my pistol, halfway expecting someone to start shooting, but when I assess the silhouette of the sharp, muscular vehicle, my sense of danger vanishes. Is that my fucking car?
The most mesmerizing vision appears before me. My reason for life emerges from the car and illuminates the night around me. Her bronze eyes shine from the headlights and fire around us, and I watch as she visibly relaxes, as if she was afraid that she wouldn’t see me standing. I soak in her appearance for only a moment before she starts to move, leaving the driver’s side door open and running around it to sprint towards me.
I open my arms and welcome her in as she jumps into my grasp, wrapping her arms around my neck and holding on tight. As her legs circle my waist, I’m sure to hold her steady—holding her so firmly against me that she’ll forever be imprinted there. I bury my face in her hair and inhale her, the smoke from above no longer invading my senses as I’m engulfed in nothing but her.
“Ashia, what the fuck are you doing here?” I say against her head, trying like hell to be aggravated with her for sneaking out of the house, but her presence alone is enough to fight the ghosts that haunt my head.
“You don’t have to feel this alone. Okay? I’m here,” she pledges against the skin on my neck, just before she takes in a shaky inhale. I tighten my grip on her, careful not to hurt her, but needing to be so close to her that our skin is forever tethered. A different warmth takes over my chest, one that only her flame ignites in me, lighting up the darkest parts of my soul and guiding me through.
She pulls away slightly to plant her lips on mine. A kiss so harsh and desperate that I’ll resurface as a healed man, proving that time is nothing but a construct because although I’ve only been gone about an hour, she feels the same eternal void that I do. One that only exists when we’re apart. Then she quickly pulls back, as if she’s realized something, and even this miniscule distance has left me aching.
“You were going to kill yourself that day? Are you fucking kidding me?” she says shakily as tears prick her eyes, and my heart turns to stone, sinking to the ground in record time as I watch her eyes glisten. I can’t help but look away from her and those perfect trembling lips, ashamed of what she must think of me.
“Of course they told you,” I force through my strained throat.
“Hey!” she yells, grabbing my chin in her royal grip and forcing me to look at her. “No. Do not be mad at them. Someone needed to tell me. Youcannotdo that. You cannoteverdo that. I don’t care what happens to me.”
“Ashia…”
“No! I’m serious, Damien. Even if something does happen to me, youcannotdo that! The thought of you even thinking about hurting yourself crushes me! You love what I love right? Well, I loveyou! My soul would never be at peace if that happened to you, do you understand?” She cups my face in her shaky hands, and I have to close my eyes for a moment to cease the burning sensation growing behind them. “I am going to teach you to love yourself morethan that, Damien. I swear to God!” I feel the heat radiating from her body, and the desperation in her words. They cut deep, but will leave the smoothest of scars. The love I feel for this woman is unnatural. Godly. She makes me feel like I could walk through this burning building behind us, and no harm would come to me. That I would never feel pain again as long as she is by my side.
“Well, you’re already a great teacher.” We tighten our hold on each other. She nuzzles her face into mine in the sweetest of gestures, soaking our connection in for only a moment before she pulls away again.
“How many bodies are in that bar?” She looks behind me briefly for reference.
“Only six,” I say, in a nonchalant tone, as if this were any other Friday, and this was nothing more than a small inconvenience, but we both know the truth. She sharply nods her head, signaling her understanding as she draws in a deep breath through her nose.
“Who were they?”
“The man that poisoned you,” I admit, and her eyes widen, realizing my need to do this tonight. “And other Dust members.” She nods her head, slower this time, in contemplation.
“I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this being so casual.” She chuckles softly, and it's my turn to shake my head.
“We’re anything but casual, baby.”
She rolls her eyes playfully in response and looks around, taking a moment to soak in what I've done. Even as she takes in the flames that bellow into the sky around us, her face is calm. Mesmerized. Almost relieved. Does she understand or is she trying to find a way to justify my violence? She looks backat me with so much love it weakens my spine.
“Do you feel better?” she asks softly.
“Much,” I admit. I always feel better when she's near me, and while I know that’s not what she means when she asks, the answer is still the same. “We should probably head home before the police and fire department show up. Now, get your sexy ass back in the car. I'll follow you home on the bike.”
She kisses me one last time before I release her. Soft and sweet, as if she’s kissing me before I head off to work, knowing we'll only be apart for about twenty minutes, but needing the contact anyway. As she turns to walk away, I don't resist the urge to slap her perfect ass, and I chuckle when she cuts her eyes at me. Her own infectious giggle rings out through the air as she continues to walk towards the car, and I watch my enchanting woman get back into the driver’s seat, wondering how the fuck I got so lucky as I walk away.
I wake up a couple of hours later with a start, my head bolting up and forcing my eyes open quickly. My first instinct is to look around the room for a lurking threat, but I’m quickly brought back to reality at the feeling of a small weight in my arms. After I take a breath, I look around the room anyway, feeling the paranoia linger and settle. Something was off, and I knew it. There had to have been. I know what I felt, and my instincts are never off. My men are watching the house, but that does little to ease my worries. The urge to get out of bed and search the house has me itching, but I’m stopped the moment I look down, forced to resist the urge.
She’s in my arms, right where she belongs, and nestled up beside me perfectly. We had gotten home, and after I gave the guys some shit about how easy it was for her to sneak off, we undressed and went to sleep. I’ve always loved holding her against me like this. So raw, so natural. If I could hold her any closer, we’d be one person. Looking at her face, I know that this is right. That regardless of my recent failures, it was meant to be like this. Ever since I laid my eyes on her, I knew. Just like I know without a shadow of a doubt that I could never love anything or anyone more than her.
My heart swells seeing her like this, laying so peacefully. Her long black eyelashes pop out against her white skin, and her soft, smooth face is relaxed without a worry in the world. Those plush, pale lips barely parted as she breathes. She looks so comfortable. So at ease. The waves of panic when she stirs in her sleep lessen every night—sometimes so minimal that the action ceases the moment she realizes I'm still next to her.
She trusts me so much that it almost scares me, because I don’t deserve it. I know I don't. Not after everything that happened. The pain that she's been in and the precautions we've had to take aren't normal. It's not the carefree life she deserves. The life I want to give her. Yet she stays by my side and devotes herself to me, as I do to her. I don’t know what I did to deserve her or what kind of God favors me so much to give me such a gift, but I'm eternally grateful, and I'm determined to make things right. No matter the cost.
Adjusting my hold onto her delicately, I pull her against me. Careful not to wake her. My free hand moves from her stomach and travels up her body, gliding my fingertips across every dip and ridge. I don’t resist the urge to trace the tattoos on her chest and shoulder, following the path of her scars down her arm and all the way to her wrist—admiring every inch of her.
What everyone else viewed as damaged, I admire and gawk over. After the world tried to drag her down, she stands tall beside me. A vision perceived as weak is my pillar of strength, and I pity anyone who’s ever thought less of her. She’s growing into something astonishing—morphing into that force of nature I’ve always known she is, and tonight only proved that. She doesn’t see it yet, the royalty I’ve always viewed her as, but she will soon enough. The more she’s able to explore who she truly is, the brighter she’ll burn, and soon, she’ll see herself in the same light as I do.
I move my hand back up to the underside of her face, cupping her soft jaw and holding her beautiful features in my palm. The need to stroke her cheekis too much, and I allow the motion to warm my chest. Her skin is so soft and velvety, the perfect contradiction to my rough hands, and it’s as if she smooths the calluses away with every caress. I could touch her for hours and come out on the other side as a renewed man.
