by R Holmes
19
Sebastian
"All right, hotel’s booked." Rhys strolls into the room, setting his laptop onto the table. "Bash, you got the truck handled?"
I nod. "Yep. Pick it up tonight. Where's Ez?"
"He said he had some shit to take care of but he'd be back later. He's been hiding shit, acting cagey." Alec chimes in from the kitchen where he's hovering over a bowl of cereal bigger than his head. The guy eats more than anyone I know yet has less body fat than me. Pisses me off.
"I don't know. I'm scared as fuck what the end game on this trip is going to mean. His dad's hiding some major shit." Rhys says setting his jaw in a hard line. The beef between the two Rhys and him got even worse when he let Ezra sit in prison. It's what started all of this, and now he's on a shit list he's going to wish he never found himself on.
We'd make sure of it.
"He deserves to know. He needs this shit, you know that Rhys," I say.
"I know, it's just… he came back, I don't know, fucked up. Even more than before, and it's torture seeing him going through this shit."
"Yeah... I swear I heard him wailing in his sleep the other night, having some sort of fucking night terror and when I went in there to make sure he wasn't getting murdered he almost hit me," Alec says with a mouthful of cereal.
"The fuck?" Rhys eyes go wide. "He's never been like this. So fucking… on edge."
"Yeah, the worst part was it was like he was in a trance or some shit. Sleepwalking but fuck, I thought he was wide awake. He didn't remember shit when he came to."
I never shared the shit Ezra told me the night at the Abbey. Simply because he's my best friend and it wasn't my story to tell. Especially deep shit that was hard for him to say in the first place. I wasn't betraying him, ever. But hearing this shit from Alec makes me even more worried about his mental stability.
"We make this trip about more than just the truth. This trip is going to bring Ez back, whatever the fuck it takes." My eyes flick between Alec and Rhys who nod. "We have to. We're the only family he has. You bleed, I bleed."
"Alec, you called Grandpa and Grams? We're gonna make a pit stop since we're passing through."
"Fuck yeah, Grams said she's making your favorite. Mississippi mud."
My mouth fucking waters at the mention of my favorite dessert in the history of the world, which makes me think of Presley and how I want to eat that shit off of her pussy. Two of my favorite things to eat.
"I don't know what I'm more excited about. All of the food I'm gonna destroy or the edibles my grandpa hides in the basement from Grams." Alec moans around his spoon. He's literally shoveling food into his face and still thinking about the food he's going to eat in the next week.
"Pack your bag boys, we're going on a fucking road trip." Alec grins, clapping Rhys on the back. Rhys shoots him a death glare before slapping him in the dick.
Alec groans, clutching his junk. "I hate you fuckers."
"Nah, you love us. You asked me to have a threesome the other day, 'member?"
Rhys eyes go wide while Alec grins, the dimple in his cheek popping out.
"Hey, love is love bro."
Jesus Christ.
My phone ringing jolts me awake. The shrill ring echoes off the walls of my room, seemingly getting louder by the second. I open one eye groggily, glancing at the alarm clock on my nightstand, seeing that it's three in the morning.
Who the fuck is calling me in the middle of the night?
I pick my phone up off the nightstand, squinting to see through the sleep in my eyes and fly up to a sitting position when I see it's Presley. I swipe my finger across the screen answer, my voice still heavy with sleep.
"Hey baby, everything okay?"
The first thing I hear is her sobbing, and my blood runs fucking cold. I'm out of the bed before she even says a word, pulling on a pair of sweats and grabbing my keys from the dresser.
"Sebas- tttt--ian," She sobs so hard I'm barely able to make out a word.
"Presley, fuck, breathe, I can't hear you," I tell her, already walking out of my bedroom, heading straight for my shoes by the front door.
"I'm sc-scareddd..."
"Get your gun. I'm on my way. I'll be there in five minutes. Do not hang up this phone."
I don't even have a fucking shirt on under the hoodie I just somehow managed to pull on as I'm walking out of the door. I never thought I'd be the kind of guy who would give anything, and I mean fucking anything, for a woman, but Goddamnit if something happens to her it'll be my ass in prison instead of Ezra.
"I can-nt br-r-reathe."
I hear her labored breathing and my legs pump faster. By the time I make it to the Range and drive over there, I would've already made it there on foot so I just run.
"Breathe baby, I'm coming. Pull that fucking trigger if you have to. Do not hesitate, do you understand?"
She sobs louder, cracking my heart in fucking two between rage and an unfamiliar feeling of fear. I fly through the woods, using my phone on speaker with the flashlight, trying not to trip and fucking break my own ankle in the process. The closer I get to her house, the louder she cries and I'm convinced I'll hear her cries echoing through the woods.
Finally, I make it to her cabin and to the front porch, and I notice the broken glass scattered across the porch and the door slightly ajar.
Fuck, someone tried to break in. No wonder she's scared out of her mind.
I fling the door open and see Presley across the room with the gun in her shaking hand, pointed directly at me.
"It's me, it's Sebastian, Pres," I say as I approach, scared she might accidentally pull the trigger in the depth of her fear.
She lowers the gun and collapses against the stove she's got her back to, and I can't get to her fast enough. I pull her into my arms and slowly pry the gun from her fingers. I make sure the safety is on before tucking it into the waistband of my pants under the back of my shirt.
"Pres, what happened?" I whisper, holding her so tight to my body I worry she can't even breathe. The fear I just felt wrapped around my neck like a noose, only got tighter when I saw her cowering on the floor in fear clutching a gun she can't even fucking use.
"Some-one-e," she stutters, covering her mouth with her trembling hands, "busted the g-g-lasss and… kick-ked the door."
Goddamnit.
"I thought it was h-h-im, Sebastian, Oh God," she cries, sobbing into my hoodie, clutching me so tightly I'll have marks tomorrow.
"Who Presley? Who is he?"
"I c-can-t.. he'll kill-ll-l me." I feel her body tense in my arms and realize she's about to have a panic attack. Whatever it is that she's running from, whoever the fuck has threatened her, has made her life a living hell and it ends, tonight. I was in over my head with this girl. She was under my skin, in my fucking head.
"This shit is over, Presley, do you hear me? You don't have to spill your truth, that's yours to decide what to do with, but you're not staying here by yourself anymore."
I fully expect a fight, and so be it, I'm ready for it, but keeping her safe was my number one priority. Guess that means I was going to start spending my nights here in this shitty ass cabin with her since I couldn't very well move her into my dorm. That would be past careless into stupid as shit territory.
"I though-t he w-w-as going to kill me, Sebastian." Her tears have slowed but now she's sucking in air, trying to catch her breath. She’s shaking so hard, her whole body trembles. I rub my hand up and down the length of her back, trying to offer comfort. I can feel her fear with every breath she inhales and the way her fingers dig into my arms as she clings to me.
"I'll never let anyone hurt you, Pres, no one. I promise." I murmur against her hair as a ragged, broken sigh leaves her body.
I hold her until her tears try and her breathing returns to normal. If I didn't see her staring numbly at the broken glass on the floor.
She untangles herself from my hold, and crawls over to the shards and starts to pick them up in
her hand before I can stop her.
"Baby, stop, I can sweep it up."
She ignores me, still picking up the jagged pieces. I try and pull her away from the glass but she pulls away from my grip.
"I have to clean it up, it has to be cleaned up now, Sebastian."
She doesn't sound like herself. Monotonous. Void. As if she's repeating a phrase that she's muttered a hundred times too many and she's completely numb.
"Presley, stop, you're going to cut your finger."
Fuck, she's going to slice her finger wide open. The window is splintered and shattered in a million pieces around us. I reach down and pick her up off the floor, gently removing the glass from her hand and carry her to the sink, turning on the hot water and putting her hand that's not priced and gleaming with bright red blood under the faucet. The water runs red as I wash the blood away.
"Baby, do you want to shower? I'm going to call Alec really quick."
Her eyes are dull, and her hair is knotted around her face. A shower would make her feel better and pull her from the state she's in. She nods, wrapping her arms around herself in a protective motion.
Whoever the fuck he is, the one who's scaring her and making her feel for her life... I'm going to slaughter him with my bare goddamn hands.
Once I help her into the shower, I walk back out to the living room and call Alec while I start looking for her broom and dustpan to clean up the mess. He answers, finally, before it goes to voicemail.
"Dude, what the fuck it's like four in the morning." He mutters.
"Someone broke into Presley's house, shattered the fucking window and scared the shit out of her."
I hear him curse and the sound of commotion, fabric rubbing against the phone.
"I'm on my way."
"No, it's fine, I've got it under control. She's in the shower, but she can’t stay here, Alec. Not when we’re leaving for Christmas break for over a week. Not after this."
"Then she's coming with us. I'll tell Rhys when he gets up. We can swing by and pick her up. You left the keys to the Tahoe?"
"Yeah, on the island."
Because we're going on a road trip halfway across the country, I rented a Tahoe that was more room for our shit and for all of us since we're all over six foot easily.
"Cool. Can you do me one more favor?" I ask, finally finding the goddamn broom shoved behind the fridge. It's about as old as this damn cabin but it should do the job for now.
"Shoot."
"I need to get someone out here to put her a new window and door in. One that can't fucking be kicked in."
Silence meets me through the line before he speaks, "I'll call Rory, he can do it."
"See you in the morning. My bag’s by the door."
"Ten four."
Once we hang up, I slide my phone back into my hoodie pocket and finish cleaning up the glass. It takes twice as long because it's so damn old and ratty, but I finally get the majority of it cleaned up.
The water is still running in the shower when I walk through the door, and I find Presley on the floor of the shower, her knees pulled to her chest. She looks so fucking broken, so small and fragile that the ice around my heart cracks.
"Pres," I whisper.
Her eyes dart up to mine and I see the tears, even as the water splashes against her face. Mascara runs down her cheeks in a black mess, her eyes are rimmed red and puffy, and still, she looks terrified.
"I can’t stop thinking about it."
"No one will ever hurt you again, Presley. I swear it on my life."
I quickly remove my hoodie, shoes and sweatpants, only because I don't have anything else to put on if I walk in the shower and end up soaking wet again. Then, I get in the shower and pull her back into my lap. I don't know the right words to take away her fear and it makes me feel helpless. Lately, all I feel is fucking helpless. With Ez. My mom. Her.
"The first time Ezra's dad beat him so bad he needed the hospital, we were in the fifth grade. We had all just met. Me, Alec, Ez, Rhys. Earlier that year, we found each other, each of us coming from a more fucked up home than the other. We knew Ezra's dad hit him, but we didn't know it was this bad."
I've never told anyone this story, so the words on my tongue feel strange, but it's a story I need to tell. I trust Presley enough to give her a piece of my story, a shard of my truth, even if it belongs to Ezra too. I can trust her, I feel it in my bones .
"He came to school the next day in long sleeves, in the heat of summer. It took an entire day for us to get it out of him, and I swear to God, Pres, I'll never forget this shit as long as I live. It's burned into my fucking memory like a brand, it changed everything. Even as a fucking kid, I knew. His arm was so swollen, bruises ran from his wrist to his elbow, the entire thing black and blue. The whole time, he never winced. He never showed an ounce of pain even though it was like some shit off a movie."
Presley's gaze is locked on mine, until the intensity is too much and I rip my eyes away to settle on a cracked piece of tile on the floor of the shower. I feel cut open and raw exposing this part of the past. Reopening old wounds that never healed properly to begin with.
"It was only months later when he admitted that if he cried, if he showed any fear, his dad would only beat him harder, abuse him longer. He kept that shit inside for months, Presley, every time his dad would beat him he'd put on a brave face and never let us know he was hitting him. Not until that time anyway. He was so terrified to tell anyone, he didn't."
Her body tenses against me, "His bone split clean in half. They found him half septic on the floor of the boys bathroom, and only then did he get to the hospital. I knew in that moment if we didn't protect him, nobody would. He almost died, Presley. He was ten. Ten years old and had been through more shit than most adults have. He was so brave, I wanted to be just like him. My point of telling you this, Pres, is that from that moment on, we had each other. It was us four against the world. Didn't matter what we dealt with when we went home, we knew at the end of the day we'd make it through whatever because we had our brotherhood."
"I'm sorry, Sebastian," she whispers, laying her head against my chest.
"Don't be sorry. I just want you to know how deep loyalty runs for me, how much it means. I don't take that shit lightly. My word is everything and I give you my word that I'll never let anyone hurt you again. I’ve never told anyone that story, but you’re part of my life now, Pres, and I needed you to hear it. You’re just as important to me as the guys."
Silence fills the shower aside from the steady stream of water from the shower head. So long passes, her breathing has evened out, I think she's fallen asleep. Until I faintly hear her whisper.
"I'll never be free."
I don’t even broach the subject of her coming with us until the next morning. She's been through enough last night, and I didn't want to fight with her after it. Which I knew, was coming. Presley is fiercely independent and I know it has a lot to do with her past, but I wasn't budging on this shit.
And fuck was I right.
"You are crazy. Insane. Careless," she seethes, pacing back and forth across the cabin as she tells me I'm out of my mind. I mean, she's not entirely wrong, because I am out of my mind. For her.
"Definitely, but I'm not stupid, Presley. I'm not leaving you here, and if you wanna waste all morning fighting about it, fine. But you're getting in that fucking Tahoe if I have to haul your ass over my shoulder and carry you there."
Her face goes as red as her hair, obviously I've struck a nerve, and if I didn't think it would piss her off even more I'd tell her how she is when she's mad. It would absolutely be the wrong time for my dick to get hard, so I reach down and adjust myself.
What can I say? Obsessed.
"Don’t you... Alpha me," she cries, walking into the bathroom and shuts the door. Trying a different approach, I give her space. I don't crowd her or ask her to come out, and ten minutes later she does, looking a lot less angry than she did when she walked in.
"
I'm sorry, I'm just overwhelmed. This is a lot to take in."
She looks embarrassed and that's not how I want her to feel.
"Babe, listen, this isn't about some fucked up way of me controlling you. You know me, Pres, you know the only controlling side of me is the side where I bend you over the bed and fuck you while I spank your ass. Am I jealous? Sure. Slightly obsessive and a tad possessive? Yeah. But I am not a controlling piece of shit. I'm trying to keep you safe the only way I know how. "
Her expression goes soft, like my words suddenly pushed past the cement wall around her heart, finally hitting the spot intended. The last thing I want to do is remind her of whatever asshole she's running from.
"Okay."
My eyebrows rise in shock. "Okay?"
The corner of her lips lift and she nods, pulling her bottom lip into her mouth. "Yeah, I'll go. Isn't it going to be weird? I mean I already feel awkward knowing they'll know what's going on between us."
"Nah, they're my brothers. They know you're important to me, that's all that matters, Pres. Now, make sure you pack the hottest fucking bikini that you own because I am taking it off with my teeth, and I don't want any sass." I smirk.
"You're incorrigible."
"I aim to please, babe."
An hour later, Rhys, Ezra and Alec are pulling up the drive to Presley's house. Alec's hanging out the sunroof with a pair of aviators, his shaggy hair covering the mirrored lenses. When I carry her bags out to the trunk, he turns around and whistles.
"Damn, Bash, you're looking more and more whipped by the second. Might wanna check and see if your dick's still attached cause I'm a little worried."
"If you don't shut the fuck up, you're going to be the one with no dick because I'm going to shove it down your throat." I grunt, tossing the bags into the trunk. Thankfully Presley's still inside or I would've had to give him a black eye before we even left.
"Oh," He clutches his heart, "I do like it rough…"
Suddenly he disappears when Rhys yanks him back into the truck, saving his ass from being beat. Fuckers.
