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CHAPTER 18
I sniffle and take the steaming cup from her hands, "Thank you."
"No problem, honey." The unease doesn't leave her features. "What happened?"
"Yes, what happened?" Fiona asks as she rubs my shoulder. The contact is something I'm not used to, especially from a motherly figure such as Fiona. She sees how tense I am and stops, but I can't help myself: I broke down, crying in the kitchen in front of Fiona Vaun, which resulted in her having to help me to the guest house as the tears kept flowing like a river. Usually I'm very well-composed in situations that are water-work inducing, but for so
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** "Why does he always have to make everything so hard!?" I mumble to myself, pushing branches away from my face as I walk further into the woods. Upon entering the forest, it's like an entirely different atmosphere; the giant oak trees and enveloping leaves they hold block most of the sunlight, minus a few soft spots that illuminate the area dimly. I'll be honest, I'm a little...scared. If there was a word to describe "scared" with less prominence, then that would be my current emotion. "Sebastian, where are you?" I call out with no answer. The only response I get is from a few birds above and another noise that I cannot label. Oh God. After treading down a descending surface, I am fin
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A myriad of thoughts rush through my mind at Sebastian's two simple words.He looks at me and waits for a definitive answer. What do I say? Or better yet, what will my mouth allow me to say that isn't remotely idiotic sounding?I nod slowly, "Oh...s-sure."I hesitantly roll up my skirt until the hem of my stocking is completely visible. His hand then slides my stocking down with apprehensiveness in his fingers. His hands are rough when they touch my skin; goosebumps rise on my arms.He lifts my foot to remove my stocking and looks at the cut on my foot. His right hand is holding my leg up at my calf while his left hand holds my foot gently."It's actually not that bad," h
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Three hours. Three hours of walking, falling, tripping, whining, mentally dying and coming back to life again in the woods. "Sebastian, I don't think I can go much longer," I pant, holding onto a tree for support. My legs are sore from the calf all the way up to the thigh, and every step I take creates the most intense feeling of ache I have ever felt. "We're almost there," he says. He does a better job at hiding his tiredness and pain than I do, but it's still evident all over his body, especially in his worn-out eyes. I let go of the tree and drag myself to keep up, "Well how do you know that? How do you know how far we have to go? We could...we could be wandering here all night, fordays, even. What if we don't make it? What if we don't make it to the ro—"
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I would be lying if I didn't admit that I secretly await Sebastian's arrival. About how I secretly think he's going to walk up to me, apologize, and hopefully say more honeyed words that will sequentially stir my judgment and make me forgive him. And how I secretly think that this will all be over then; by the time he apologizes, someone will rescue us and take us home, where we can finally rest and forget this ever happened. But that isn't the case. Because when I turn my head to the right of the road, pass the blinding rays of the sun, I see Sebastian walking. Away from me. His legs move at a slower pace on the gravel. His hands are in his front pockets, and his head is facing the sun in the sky. But he's walking, and he isn
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"C'mon, get it together, Leslie!" I tell myself in the bathroom mirror. I can't even count how many times I've told myself to get it together this past week, but frankly after playing a game of pool with Sebastian Harrison's dick on my ass and his breath on my neck, it currently feels appropriate. My face is the color of a tomato, and no amount of cold water can make that go away. Perhaps I'm just a weak human being, unable to handle the touch of a man. If that's the case, then that explains many things. Wow, that's depressing. After splashing my face a few more times, I dry my skin with a paper towel and exit the bathroom. De-spite the fact that I didn't actually go pee, I have to go back to our little area in the back of the bar and pretend as if nothing is wrong. I don't know
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