Shards of Us (14 page)

"Welcome to hell,"
Sebastian says without a trace of humor.

I look around the house, my eyes shining. "It's beautiful,
Sebastian," I breathe.

He grimaces. "Not to me," he says to himself, and then he disappears into the kitchen b
efore I have time to ask why.

I drift over to the couch,
relaxing my sore muscles as soon as I collapse onto it. I close my eyes for a while, flipping through the TV stations and just listening to the different actors and their voices, letting the total normalness of the sounds and their laughter calm me, make me feel okay.

When
Sebastian returns, he's carrying a glass of milk and some pre-heated pasta. He sets it down on the little table in front of me, then pulls out a match and lights the three candles surrounding it. He pours me a glass of wine and dims the lights in the room, and, finally, he takes a seat beside me. His warm body feels nice this close to mine, and the touch of him is so inviting and relaxing all at once. I turn to Sebastian, who stares blankly at the TV. I notice the dark circles chiseled beneath his eyes, see the stress on his face he's trying so hard to hide. And it hurts. It hurts to think how much he's going through to save me. How he may be going overboard with all of this, but it's all for one reason: me. He's just a man in love, I realize. He's just lost in translation. He needs guidance, needs healing, needs
me
as much as I need him.

We lie there for a while, breathing heavily, looking at the TV and recounting everything that just happened, thinking about how close we were to death, but how, even now, we still have each other. We're still just
pieces of what we once were, but I can feel the pieces of my heart coming together, and they're here for one thing and one thing only: him.

I love
Sebastian.

I love everything about him.

Even though I shouldn't.

Even though I know it's wrong.

I love him.

I love that I'm his prisoner.

I love everything about our setup.

After a while,
Sebastian sits up and brings me a small dinner, saving only a small portion of it for himself. "Eat up," he says quietly, offering me the plate. I take it with a thank you.

Sebastian
looks beautiful in the candlelight, his face so mysterious and masculine, tortured and vulnerable. I find myself entranced with his lips, with the way they move as he speaks, so much that I just want to reach out and kiss him. I barely keep myself from doing so.

I turn back to the TV as I eat, letting myself sink back into the world of pointless reality shows and crime dramas, feeling normal for the first time in a while. The food
and wine tastes so good after everything that happened today, and I find myself feeling happy again for the first time since the night Ash died. Feeling… less scared. Feeling like this all will work out, as long as Sebastian is with me.

"Are you okay, angel?"
Sebastian says quietly, turning to me. His blue eyes are like jewels in the dim light.

I frown. "What do you mean?"

He sighs. He reaches out a hand and starts stroking my dark hair, smiling a little to himself, one of those secret smiles I wish I could be a part of. "I mean, you," he breathes, his words tickling at my ear. "How are you?"

"Oh." I look down at my feet. "I'm
… okay, I guess."

Sebastian
keeps running his fingers through my hair. It's so relaxing, making me want to close my eyes and let everything but this moment, this feel of him stroking me, melt away. "And you still don't hate me?" he asks hopefully.

"No." My voice is quiet, mixing with the sounds of the crickets outside. "No, I guess I don't."

Sebastian forces a smile. "I'm glad. You know I'd never hurt you, right? I just want to be here for you. I've been hurt so many times before. I've left everyone I cared about in my life. I don't want to leave you too, or for you to leave me. You're my one constant. You're the one person I need."

"I need you too,
Sebastian," I whisper, sipping my glass of wine and lacing my arms around his body. "And I know. I know you… mean well."

"I do, angel," he coos into my ear, nipping lightly at my earlobe with his teeth, and suddenly I'm back at the hotel room, loving the feel of him on me. "I do care about you." He continues to kiss me, this time on the neck, and I lean my hea
d back, taking it all in--the heat from his lips, the tingles he gives me.

I let him kiss me for a while before asking, "Where are we?" I motion at the house around of us. "Is this
… is this where you live?"

Sebastian
sighs, pulls back. "Sort of," he admits, but his voice doesn't sound convincing. It's more distant than anything, like he himself is lost in another world. In another time, another place. Maybe back to when we were in hotel room 364, when nothing mattered but each other.

"And where do we sleep?"

"We sleep downstairs."
Sebastian says quietly.

"Why
not up there?" I ask through a bite of pasta, pointing to the staircase leading to a floor above us.

"Just trust me, angel. And please don't go upstairs,
" he says. "Okay?"

"Okay."

We don't say anything for a while after that. I go back to eating and watching TV, relaxing as Sebastian's arm slips around my own, warming me at the touch. It feels good to be with him again. It feels good not to worry. And while we weren't out of the woods yet, something about this house is so familiar and safe and homely, that with Sebastian beside me, everything feels complete. Everything feels okay, if only for a little while.

"Will you tell me about the man who was
… torturing you?" I ask after a minute, locking eyes with him. "What did he want?" My voice is quiet and soft and I regret asking it as soon as the words leave my mouth, but I know I have to. I have to know.

"Nothing,"
Sebastian says, making it clear he doesn't want to talk about it.

I shift closer to him
, not giving in quite yet. "He said something about a 'they'? People who were hiding? Who is that?" I ask gently.

"Yes,"
Sebastian says, closing his eyes. "'They.' He means the people I never killed. The ones who I let go into hiding."

I shift up against
Sebastian, resting my head on his warm and broad shoulder. "Why did they go into hiding?" I keep looking out at the TV. He starts caressing my hair again, his fingers so gentle and smooth.

"Because
Marco found out I didn't kill them all too quickly," he whispers, and his voice sounds like a distant melody. "After only a few weeks, actually. And they knew they had to go into hiding because he would stop at nothing until they were dead. And I… helped them."

"Oh." I keep my gaze trained on my feet. "So this whole thing is about finding them? Why does
Marco care about them so much?"

Sebastian
sighs. "Angel, I'd rather not talk about this. Okay?"

I hesitate, then nod. "Okay," I say. "That seems fair."

We're silent after that as I finish my dinner. The whole time I find myself listening to the sound of his forks clinking on his plate, feeling the quiet lull of the place take me away. I focus on the TV for a while. I'm not really paying attention to the show, just the voices in it, the sounds of their normalness as they carry me away. I eat until my dinner is totally gone, drink all of the wine, and then I relax, taking in several deep breaths, feeling relieved and okay. My muscles still ache from before, but everything else feels in place, feels right for once in my life.

Finally,
after maybe an hour, Sebastian stands up. He peels off his blood-soaked shirt right in front of me, and I watch him despite myself, fascinated with the look of his bare muscle in the candlelight, wanting nothing more than to run my hands along his skin. He grabs a warm cloth and dabs it against a cut on his stomach, wincing a little.

I stand up despite myself, drifting toward him. "Allow me," I whisper. He hesitates, but lets me take the cloth from him. There is nothing but the sound of crickets outside and each of our heavy breaths, mingling together, as I dab the warm cloth against his stomach, feeling his muscle beneath it.

Sebastian isn't looking at me as I work. He just keeps staring off into the distance, as if he's seeing into a world I can't make out. I listen to the gentle sloshing of warm water as I refill the cloth, then press it back against his body, rubbing it gently around the wound.

"Do you love me
?" Sebastian asks after a while, his eyes still trained on the door.

I hesitate as
I dab the cloth against his wound. He doesn't even wince. Not once. "Does it really matter?"

"Yes," he says. "Everything matters when it comes to you, angel."

"Oh." I blush despite myself. Sebastian's gaze drift down to mine at that, and I feel the intensity in his stare as I consider his question. Do I love him? Do I really? I already know the answer, of course. I already know it's the reason I've stuck by him all this time, the reason he makes me feel the way he does. "Then yes," I say, meeting his gaze. My words are slow and quiet, but they sound so right as they roll off my tongue. "Yes, I love you."

A smile spreads across his face. Not a cocky smile this time
, though. Not a forced one, either. Just a genuine, warm smile. "I love you too. But you already knew that."

"Yes," I say, pressing up against his warm body. I smile despite myself, because just
Sebastian smiling makes me smile. "I did."

He wraps his arms around me and pulls me in, burying his nose in my hair and
breathes in the scent of me. His arms are thick and muscular, and they feel so great around mine. All I want to do then is to stay there forever, in his arms, for him to rock me back and forth and kiss me until there is nothing left in the world but him and me.

"
Make the pain go away, angel," Sebastian says after a minute, holding me by the arms and leaning back so he can look into my eyes.

I hesitate, still clutching the warm cloth in my hand.
"But your cut--"

"Forget the cut," he says, unfurling my fingers so the cloth falls to the ground. "You are all I need."

His fingers lace with mine, and just the touch of his skin makes my stomach feel hot, makes my body buzz with energy and desire. I feel his erection pressing against me again as he holds me, feel each little groove of his body against me. And I want him again. My skin is numb and tingly, and I know I want him. I know I love him.

"Can I have you
?" he repeats, bringing his lips down on mine. His kiss is hot and fiery, sending an ache throughout my body and leaving me wanting so much more. He moves his hands around my hips, pressing his torso to my back, and the feel of him on me is addicting, intoxicating.

"Yes," I
say as he pulls back. Then I lock eyes with his. "Take me," I whisper.

And he does.

***

I find myself gasping for breath by the time
Sebastian and I finish. Everything about him is so incredibly sexy, from the taste of his lips to the gentleness of his touch to the arch of his muscle to the moans he gives me to the feel of him inside of me. My skin is still hot and sweaty and shivery, and as I slip on my underwear, I find myself watching Sebastian dress beside me, fascinated with each little movement of his body, with the muscle in his chest and the arch of his back and the little V veins his torso make. I love him, love him even when I shouldn't. He is dangerous, he's a killer, and yet, everything about him feels so right.

Once he's put on his underwear, he walks over to the couch and pushes off the cushions, then unlocks a
mattress and pulls it out. He grabs some sheets and a blanket from a basket beside the couch and spreads them out across the mattress, tucking them in on either side.

"We sleep here tonight, angel," he says quietly, shifting the pillows from the couch to the mattress.

He sits down at the edge of the bed, swinging his legs over and into the sheets. When I don't move to join him, he pats the space beside him. I sit down, my hand brushing his. Sebastian smiles a little, reaches out, and gently wraps his arms around my body, drawing me into his chest.

"You feel so good
," he whispers into my ear. I lie there beside him, in the bed, with the candles flickering throughout the huge and dark and empty living room.

I don't say anything. There aren't any words to say. There is just the feel of him.

"You're sleeping with me tonight," he continues. "But that means I have to keep you here. That means I have to… hold you here." He pulls a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket. "Okay?"

I hesitate, glancing between the handcuffs and his fiery blue eyes.
"You don't trust me?" I say, not bothering to hide the hurt in my voice.

Sebastian
sighs, shakes his head. "It isn't an issue of trust, angel. People don't leave you because they don't trust you, or because you don't trust them to stay. People leave you because they don't know better, because they don't even realize they're leaving you until it's too late. And I'm not taking that risk with you," he whispers. "I'm not risking losing you too."