Begging for Bad Boys

by Willow Winters

  “For not listening to me. For coming,” he says before leaning in for a quick kiss. He doesn’t address the fact that it looks like he got hit by a fucking tractor-trailer of fists. There’s a huge scratch down his neck, and several bruises forming on his jaw and cheek.

  He got fucked up.

  I can taste the salt from his tears on his lips. It takes me a moment to even register what he said.

  I rub the back of his neck as I say, “Of course I'm here. I’m always going to be here for you.” I say truthful words, but I’m still waiting for him to tell me why the hell he looks like that. I was only behind him by maybe a half an hour. I know I drive slower than him, and I had to take some time to process it when Sandra texted me. I was an emotional wreck, but I wasn’t that far behind him. What the fuck happened?

  “Ma…” Derek swallows thickly.

  “I know,” I say quickly, so he doesn’t have to. “I texted Sandra after you left.”

  He nods his head once and then looks down, avoiding my gaze.

  “You really are the sweetest person I have ever met,” he says in a hoarse voice leaning into me again, his hold on me stronger than ever before.

  I want to ask him about his face. The only thing I can think of is that he did it to himself. The thought makes me sick. I can’t stand it. I need to ask him, but I can’t right now. I’m struggling to process everything.

  “Come on, why don't we have a drink and then try to get some sleep?” And with that, I pull him into the kitchen, my heart beating frantically as I try to figure out what happened.

  He sits down on a stool at the island and runs his hands through his hair. “I don't even know where to begin with everything that I have to do this week. Ma’s had everything in order for a while now, but I just can’t think about making arrangements for her funeral.” His voice cracks.

  I grab each of us a glass from the cabinet, and pour some brandy in each. I need a drink, too.

  “I'll help you. Don't worry about it tonight,” I say as I carry the two glasses over to the island. As I set the glasses down, I see that his knuckles are bloody again. They're much worse than the night at the restaurant. I'm really hoping he just hit a wall though and not a person this time. I stare at them for a long moment, refusing to look at his face.

  He notices, but doesn’t say anything. Just like he always does.

  We drink our brandy in silence. I’m waiting. I’ll wait for him this time. He has to tell me. I won’t pry. He has to know by now I won’t judge him, that I only want to help him. And he needs help. He desperately needs help.

  I grab his hands and look into his pale blue eyes. “I’m here for you,” I tell him soothingly. I try to rub my thumb over his knuckles, but they hit the cuts and it stops me; it makes me pull away from him.

  He looks down at the countertop as he says, “Don't leave me tonight, sweetheart. I need you. I don't want to be alone right now.”

  “I'm here, and I'll be here for as long as you want me,” I say reassuringly. He looks so tired; he looks emotionally abused and raw. I want to hold him, scream at him to find out what he’s done, and question him until he tells me the truth. But I can’t.

  He leads me toward the stairs, and I feel like shit. Nothing feels right. How can he just avoid something so obviously wrong? Even worse, how can I let him? Because his mother just died!

  God, I feel sick.

  As we get to the staircase, my phone goes off. It's Sandra. I anticipated she’d call me. I wonder what she would do about Derek. About finding him like this.

  What the hell happened?

  I respond back quickly, only pausing for a second.

  What?

  Her response is instantaneous.

  Why did Derek attack Tony?

  What the fuck!? My feet turn to stone, refusing to move as the message hits me. Derek attacked Tony? My heart stops in my chest as Derek tries to pull me along and up the stairs. I let him. I silence my phone, and I just try to breathe.

  I can’t believe he hit Tony. I eye him as we walk. What did he say? What did he do?

  He keeps covering his face with his other hand. He needs so much help. He’s so lost. I have no fear for my own life whatsoever, but for his? I’m so scared for him. My heart is breaking.

  I stop at the entrance to his bedroom, and he keeps walking, right into the bathroom and washes his hands and splashes some water on his face.

  I can’t explain how I feel as I sit on the end of the bed. It groans slightly as I shift my weight.

  I love a man who’s fucked up. I know that. But I never guessed he’d take it out on Tony. I stare at the open door to the bathroom, wondering why.

  Finally, I decide I have to ask him about it. I can’t just pretend. Even with his mom dying. This is just too much. “Derek, what happened with Tony? Sandra just texted me,” I say, trying not to sound accusing, as he turns off the faucet.

  His jaw tenses, and he clenches his fists. Anger and hatred are apparent on his face.

  “He's dead to me,” he says brusquely. I sit there in disbelief. My lips part, but I can’t think of a response.

  He climbs into bed, ignoring me. He lays down, but I can’t. I won’t. I wait a moment, trying to collect my thoughts and shift on the bed to be closer to him.

  “I need you to tell me.” I say quietly, the somber tone reflecting the air surrounding us.

  “I can’t,” he says and then rolls onto his side, away from me. I suck in a sharp breath.

  “You’re not okay-”

  “I know!” he yells. “Please, just drop it.” He almost whispers the last part.

  My shoulders tremble as I struggle with right and wrong, giving and taking. His mother just passed. He’s physically and emotionally fucked up. I need to be here for him, but how can I be if he won’t tell me what’s going on in his head?

  I go into the bathroom quietly and shut the door. I text Sandra back.

  Derek won't tell me anything. I didn't even know he attacked Tony until I got your text. WTF happened?

  I start pacing back and forth across the marble floor. It's a few minutes before I get her response.

  Tony & I were together at his place. Work called asked me to come in to help fix a mistake. T wanted to go see D’s mom. Dropped him off on my way. 2hours later Tony messaged about D’s mom. I pull up and hear shouting, go in. D was beating the shit out of Tony.

  Another text comes through as I'm reading the first one again.

  Tried to pull them apart. D said he'd never forgive T. T said it was about D’s mom. He won't tell me anything.

  All I can keep thinking is What. The. Fuck? I sit down on the edge of the tub, gripping the cold porcelain edge.

  I put my phone back in my wristlet, turn off the bathroom light, and open the door to the bedroom. Derek doesn't move when I walk into the room and set my wristlet on his dresser causing the metal chain to clink.

  “I found out about your mom from Sandra,” I say as I crawl into bed. “I found out about the fight from her too,” my words are soft as I cuddle up to him. His stiff and unmoving, ready to push me away I’m sure. Refusing to open up. “I want to be here for you, but I need to know what’s going on so I can give you what you need.” I stare at his eyes, willing me to look at him, but he’s focused on the ceiling, as if all the answers are written up there.

  I rest my head on his forearm, his body’s warm and inviting. He slowly wraps his arm around me, maybe realizing I don’t want to fight. I’m just telling him the truth.

  “Right now I just need you to lay with me. Just don’t leave me.” My throat feels like it’s closing listening to the raw vulnerability in his cracked voice. I nod my head and kiss his shoulder before nestling down next to him.

  I think sometimes you have to push people; sometimes you have to make them open up to you.

  And other times you need to trust them. You just need to hold them.

  Maybe I’ve been doing it all wrong all these years not pushing him, but in this mo
ment, he just needs me to hold him. He needs someone.

  I slip my shoes off and climb into bed next to him. I turn off the second table lamp and roll toward Derek. Kissing his shoulder, I wrap my arm around him.

  Right now he just needs to feel loved. I can give him that, because I really do love him. Even if he is a broken mess.

  I scoot a little closer to him, my eyes adjust to the dim light of the night and I can see the dark bruise on his jaw. “Does it hurt?” I ask him softly.

  He immediately nods his head, his forehead pinched and his breathing paused. “It hurts so much.” His words are choked as he moves his hand over his face.

  My heart splits into a thousand pieces as he breaks down in front of me.

  “I’m here,” I tell him with as much comfort as I can put in my voice. I try to hold him, but he doesn’t move. I don’t know what to do.

  As if reading my mind, Derek says, “I’ll be whatever you want. I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll tell you everything. Please, just don’t leave me.” He finally opens his eyes, their filled with sadness and vulnerability, pleading with me.

  “I promise I won’t. I promise you.”

  How can I? When you love someone, they never leave you.

  Chapter 18

  Derek

  It just started snowing. The sky is so thick with it that it’s a greyish white. I hear someone cough from across the plot. My eyes travel to them for a moment, before focusing back down at the ground. The dirt looks loose, like it's just been placed.

  My breath turns to fog in front of my face, and I know my nose and cheeks are a bright red from the cold. But I don’t wanna leave yet. All I’ve been doing is looking at the flowers I've placed atop her grave over and over again. But leaving here… it feels like I’m leaving Ma.

  I can’t do it.

  I need a break from this town. I severed every tie I have to it, except for the restaurants. I’m done with everything else. I gave the pot business to Tony. Left the all that shit for him on my desk for him and I know he got them from the emails he sent. I don’t want a damn thing to do with it anymore. He can have it.

  He’s been texting me, calling me. He even showed up at the house a few times.

  I called the cops the last time, and that was the only thing that got him to leave.

  I don't wanna hear it.

  I don’t want to hear how he loved her.

  How I was the one in the wrong for leaving her in pain when she was ready. He only said that once, but out of everything he said, that’s what stuck with me. Cause that really hurt. The truth always hurts the most.

  I still feel guilty about keeping it from Emma for as long as I did. But she broke me down. I confessed everything to her. She didn’t run away like I thought she would. I made her promise she wouldn’t, but I know promises don’t mean shit sometimes. I want to give up on myself, but she won’t let me. She’s never broken a promise to me. And I’m starting to believe she’ll really stay. I fucking hope she does. Without her, I don’t know who I am anymore.

  I thought the moment I told her what happened with Tony, that would be it for me, but she’s still here. And I’m ready to move on from this shit life. I’m ready for something more. Something with her. I want to be the man she deserves. And I will. I’m walking away from all this shit.

  “I don’t wanna stay here.” I finally speak, not able to keep thinking on the shit that’s going through my head right now.

  Emma’s wrapped up tight in a thick, hooded black coat with a scarf around her neck. The tip of her nose is peeking out. She looks up at me, blowing hot air into her hands and then holding back onto my arm.

  “We can go whenever you want,” she says softly. I’ve been coming here every day for the last three days. So has Emma. She’s missed the first few days of school, but she’s not willing to leave yet. She hasn’t left my side. If that’s not true love, I don’t know what is. I know with everything in me that I can’t let her go.

  “That’s not what I mean,” I tell her as I turn to face her. I wrap my arms around her waist as the light dusting of snow falls into her dark brunette hair. She’s so fucking beautiful. She’s more than a sweetheart. She’s everything to me. “I wanna go with you.”

  “You wanna go to school?” she asks with disbelief.

  A humorless laugh leaves me, and I look behind her before finding her eyes again. I don’t need school. I’ve got more money than I’ll ever need.

  “Nah. Just go with you. I know you need to get back.”

  Her features soften as she realizes what I’m saying.

  “I wanna be with you, Emma. I’m not letting you go this time.”

  She smiles softly and leans into me. “Come with me,” she says softly. “I need someone, too.”

  I don’t wanna leave Ma, but I can’t stay here.

  I give her one last kiss and start leading her to the car, walking through the graveyard and not looking back.

  Chapter 19

  Emma

  We just got to my tiny apartment, and it's strange seeing Derek here. He looks so at odds among all my cozy, chic accessories. I watch him as he picks up the small bird candelabrum in his hand. It's cast iron, and heavy. He holds it up and stares at it for a moment, then his brow furrows before setting it back down.

  He takes in every item of the room slowly, processing this new environment. It’s almost comical. His broad shoulders and tall stature seems out of place in my living room. My chairs are so tiny, I’m not sure how he'll even fit on them. I have a small IKEA sofa, and if he lay down on it, his legs would be hanging off the end.

  He's picked up every picture frame I have on the shelf above my couch to look closely at each picture. He doesn't seem to know what to do with himself. He looks so lost.

  I wish I already had a place for him here, but I don’t. I will though. We’ll make it work.

  “We can go shopping,” I offer. We’re definitely going to need to go shopping. I forgot how girly and small my apartment is. He’ll really freak out when he sees the bedroom. I still have the small single mattress from when I was growing up. Not that I wanted to keep it. I had to make a choice in what I could spend my money on. I decided that a queen mattress wasn’t worth having over actual kitchen utensils and a dining room table to eat at. Besides, I'm petite.

  “Yeah, I think we should definitely go out today,” he says. The look on his face makes a small laugh come from my lips. I cover my mouth, feeling the blush rise to my cheeks. He smirks at me, shaking his head.

  “I’m sorry, I just never thought I’d see you here.”

  “Did you really think it was over between us?” he asks, walking toward me. The way his hips are moving and his eyes are piercing into me make him seem like a lion hunting his prey.

  I try to breathe, but it’s hard with him looking at me like that. Like he wants me. Like I’m his to take.

  And I am.

  “I never know what to think when it comes to you, Derek,” I say. That’s the truth, and I’m not sure that’ll ever change.

  We drove down together this morning. I still can't believe he wanted to come back to school with me.

  He’s giving up everything and starting over. No drugs. No secrets. I’m his and he’s mine and together we’ll get through this. I know we will.

  He lets out a small laugh, but it doesn’t seem real. “It’s a nice place you got here, Sweetheart.” He looks past me, at the kitchen. “You definitely put your touch on this place.”

  “And you haven’t even seen the rest of it,” I say sarcastically. My apartment is about as big as his living room was. He’s definitely downsizing.

  “Want to go get something to eat? I'm starving,” I say to him while grabbing my keys off the hook by the door. Eat, shop. We’ll take each day at a time. Just get through each one. It’s difficult for him sometimes. But just one step at a time is all we need.

  He puts down the stack of papers he was looking at, and stands up from the stool he was sittin
g on at the kitchen counter.

  “Are these all of the places you're planning on applying to once you graduate?” he asks me.

  I forgot I was looking through some of my options before I left to go to Sandra’s for winter break. I stare at the one on top, I put them in order of most desirable.

  “Yeah, they're the schools and offices I'm interested in. I don't know if I'll get a job at any of them, but we’ll see.” I shrug. “Are you hungry?”

  “I can eat,” he says, taking one last look around.

  I take him to one of my favorite places. It's just a small family-owned restaurant where they know me by name. It’s nothing like the bistro Derek took me to. Here all the booths are covered with a tough red fabric. I don’t even know what kind of fabric it is, but it’s wipeable and that’s what matters. Kay’s Tavern is one of my favorites though. I love their hot wings. “You gotta order them extra crispy though,” I tell Derek as the hostess walks us to a booth near the front window. It’s a bay window, and lining it are a few large picture frames with magazine cutouts and newspaper articles inside of them from when they first opened. They won a few awards, too. I was telling him all about it on the drive over, but every bit of conversation only made me more and more anxious. I know that we’ve led separate lives until now, and that our past lives didn’t mesh. It’s a cold hard truth that I eventually accepted. But now he wants to try to blend into mine, and I don’t know how that’s going to happen.

  The late evening sun makes the untouched snow out front look even prettier. But beyond that, the cars have driven over the snow and ruined the purity of the scene, leaving dirty slush in their wake.

  That’s just the way it is though. The pretty parts never last.

  Across the street are rows of houses lining the busy road. In front of one of them are a couple of kids making snowmen. It makes me smile. Derek follows my gaze, and it makes him smile, too.