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kumkaniudaku · 5 months ago

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Stay A While

Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,944

Part: 1 of ??

Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.

When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.

Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected.

The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first.

“Hello?”

Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place.

He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -”

“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?”

“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -”

“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?”

“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”

“You staying anywhere when you get here?”

“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”

“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?”

Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.”

“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.”

Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen.

“Another round, brother?”

Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.”

“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.”

A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket.

“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?”

“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.”

------

City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.

After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.

The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly.

“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.”

He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.”

Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”

Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes.

Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her mother than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.

Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.

They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went.

Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.

“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap.

He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?”

“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.”

“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray.

“Any time.”

A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them.

“I look crazy, huh?”

“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.”

“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?”

“Don’t start, TJ.”

“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?”

“What? TJ? That’s your name.”

“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.”

Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.”

“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.”

The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction.

Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far.

“Treece, I can do it.”

“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”

His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.

“So, how you doing? How you been?”

“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.”

“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?”

“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.”

“What about your man? He driving you crazy?”

Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend.

“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.”

Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”

“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.”

“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.”

“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.”

Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.”

Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly.

Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression.

“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.”

“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?”

“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?”

Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.”

Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further.

“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.”

“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.”

A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway.

Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off.

For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony.

By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together.

Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.

Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance.

The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs.

It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.

After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks.

Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.

Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.

She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.

“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.”

“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”

Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”

“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”

Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.

“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.”

He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?”

“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.”

“TJ for you.”

Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them.

“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?”

“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted.

“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.”

“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”

“What’d you lose?”

“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.”

“Why?”

“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.

Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.”

“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”

Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line.

She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him.

“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.”

Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone.

Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard.

Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.

“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.”

“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.”

“I fucked that up.”

“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.”

“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter.

He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused.

He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow.

She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.”

Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.”

“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.”

“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.

He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.

“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.”

Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters.

“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.”

TAGS: @planetblaque

Happy to tag whoever is interested.

#terry richmond #terry richmond x oc #rebel ridge #aaron pierre

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gretavanmoon · 1 month ago

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Valor - Troubadour

Pairing: Daniel x OC

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: Cursin', Smokin', Drinkin'. Angst: Mention of Struggle and Poverty, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Weapons, Mentions of Murder and Death, Allusions to Shady Activities, Mention of Police, Concealing a Fugitive. Smut: Flirting, Kissing, Unprotected Sex.

Hey everyone! Thanks for being here! Was really missing the Valor world (what's new) and decided to satiate my needs with a little Danny spin-off. This story picks up just a few months after Chapter 14 ends and before the Epilogue, when Danny has decided to busk around the Midwest in search of fulfilling his musical heart and hitting the open road on his motorcycle. This Danny side-quest story will only be a few parts, but hope you enjoy the ride!

Big thanks to my bestie & cowriter @gretavangroupie for all the edits and wonderful idea inputs <333

Read Valor Ch. 14 here

Read the Epilogue here

TOPEKA, KANSAS

DANNY

“Cheapest bottled you got, please. From the back of the cooler,” I yell over the crowd as I pull off my hat, raking the back of my sleeve across my forehead to clear away the dripping sweat threatening to fall into my eyes. I’m tired and my voice is a barely-there rasp, but these past few weeks have had me flying on auto-pilot, running on fumes and the new high of performing on stage with a live band, just like I’ve always dreamed of doing. The bar we’re in tonight is crowded and full of loud-mouthed drunks, but honestly, I feel frighteningly right at home.

Glass beer signs line the walls and the pool tables are barely lit and in desperate need of some new bulbs. The faded green felt is tattered and torn, and the cues have seen better days. I can tell that every cent this place makes is not going to the upkeep of the building, that's for damn sure. The walls are dripping with nicotine and and the floors are sticky with spilled beer and god knows what else. Truly, feels just like Canaries, a place I thought I’d never see the likes of again.

The bartender furrows her brow at me as she turns toward the cooler, obviously thrown off by my odd request. As she slowly leans down, I can’t help but let my eyes rake over her backside, hardly covered by the ripped and cutoff Levi shorts hugging her hips and thighs. She pulls her hair to the side as she bends lower at the waist, reaching as far back as she can to get to the furthest beer. She’s bent completely in half, and I have to calm myself with a full breath of air to keep my thoughts from getting the best of me. It’s been a while, sue me.

I snicker to myself as I pop a few peanuts from the bar bowl into my mouth, satisfied that she fell right into my trap.

Oldest trick in the book.

Finally she pops up, returning shortly after with a frosty brown bottle in her hand. She unscrews the lid, tossing it against the wall at the end of the bar before it falls into the waiting trash can below it.

“Just realized why you asked for one from the back of the cooler. You think I’m some kinda sleaze, or somethin’?” she asks, leaning her elbows down on the bar with just enough force to squeeze her tits together. Her hand is still damp from handling the icy bottle, and I watch as she gently rakes her fingertips across her collarbone. Hm… I am no stranger to her type.

I lift the bottle to my waiting lips and take a long pull, never breaking eye contact with her. Finally I swallow, leaning onto my own elbows to meet her challenging gaze.

“Beer’s coldest back there. You think I want somethin’ warm after sweatin’ like a hog up there on stage all night?” I ask. “It’s goddamned hot in here.”

She scoffs and her eyes roll, standing back up straight as her expression tells me she is already over my shit. Still she looks at me, crossing her arms tightly across her chest, the faded words on her shirt barely legible anymore. “Just cause you play a little guitar don’t mean you can get whatever the hell ya want here,” she bites, her eyes now seething and sexy.

I growl a little beneath my breath, flashing her a glance of my teeth. “Well it fuckin’ worked, didn’t it? I gave you a show, only fair you give me a little one, too…” I reply audaciously.

“Fuck off, prick. ‘Fore I bar you,” she says, fighting back a smile.

I stand and smile too, pulling a few bucks from my back pocket to lay on the sticky bar top.

Her lips purse, “Band’s got a tab, you ain’t gotta pay now,” she explains, effectively ignoring the other patrons who are now nearly begging for the attention that she won’t stop giving to me.

I bite my bottom lip as I squint my eyes at her. “I don’t like owin’ people. I’ll pay as I drink,” I insist as I take another swig off the top of my beer. “Unless of course, my money’s no good here?”

I watch her snap back in surprise as the music from the house band begins to swell from the stage behind me. Her tongue pokes through her lips as she blows the bright pink gum in her mouth into a bubble, eyeing me as it inflates and pops, and she pulls it back between her teeth.

She slams her palm onto the money and swipes it from the bar top, spinning quickly as she heads to the cash register.

“Danny, my man! Kickin’ ass and takin’ names!” Suddenly I feel the harsh palm of my new band mate Shawn grip across my neck, shaking me from side to side. He’s drunk already, but that’s to be expected of a front man who would rather chug a fifth of warm Jack Daniel’s before a show than warm his vocals up during sound check. “Hell of a fuckin’ set. Who the hell taught you how to pick a guitar, huh? The devil himself?”

I smirk a little, unable and unwilling to tell Shawn that yes, the devil was definitely with me for all the years I sat quietly in my room with my guitar, drowning out all the noise around me with whatever sound I could get to come from the damned thing. My foster parents, Ace… the revving of Valor’s engine all the nights that Jake suffered trying to fix her.

“Just practice, I guess,” I yell back in his ear as he stumbles into me. “Practice and patience.” I’d never tell him the skill was born of necessity. He didn’t need to know that much.

“Well, m’glad we found you on the side of the road when we did. You got more talent in your baby toe than Rog had in his entire fuckin’ body, man,” Shawn slurs, his own cocktail splashing onto my shirt as he speaks. “I mean that.”

I give him a curt smile and nod as he disappears back into the crowd, an elongated arm and pointed finger trained on me as he falls away.

I couldn’t be more thankful for him and the other guys; they’d stumbled across me busking outside a little string of bars outside of Memphis right after we burned Ace’s down and I’d decided to hit the road on Ruby. I needed some space, I needed some freedom. And I needed the open fuckin’ road so badly I could hardly stand it. So that’s just what I did.

It was strange at first, being away from Jake and away from Joslyn after they were all I’d known for the majority of my life, but I knew deep down that if I didn’t go, if I didn’t leave, I’d get stuck right back where I’d started from in that goddamned town, running from the law and all the demons I’d decided to collect on the way.

I knew Jake needed Y/N, and they needed to start a life together in privacy. I didn’t fuckin’ like it, bouncing from cheap motel to cheap motel, but after some time, I got over myself and my needs and began to rely on the road, and the sound of my tires spinning across it. I grew to love the feeling of a guitar in my hand more than the feeling of a socket wrench. And I began to like the sound of a loud, cheering audience more than the sound of a tuned-up Mustang engine. I reckon part of that is due to Y/N’s encouragement, getting me over my own fear of performing.

But that ain’t to say that I didn’t miss mechanicin’ a little.

This band was full of miscreants just like myself, who had gathered together after realizing their talents and how much better they’d be if they meshed together. Their old guitarist, Rog was good, but he just didn’t have it in him, from what I understand. I didn’t want to settle down with a band, and honestly I’m still tossing around if it’s a good idea or not, but the money is alright. And sleeping in a shitty van beats sleeping under a tarp on a sidewalk or roach infested motel. Not that I am above that now.

“Cowboy, your change?” I hear the bartender’s voice interrupt my thoughts, pulling me back into the headspace of the crowd and the chaos.

“Nah, s’yours,” I reply to her, giving her a wink as she fights off another sweet smile, chomping on her gum again as she makes a point to give me a full up-down.

Cowboy. I don’t like that.

I’m far from a fuckin’ cowboy. Don’t think I’ve ever even mounted a horse in my life. I guess if I’m gonna continue to wear this cowboy hat, I’d better get used to the nickname.

And if she’s gonna keep lookin’ at me like that all night, I’ll let her call me whatever the hell she wants.

—

I drape the hat from a hook hanging on the motel room wall, making good on my new knowledge to never lay it down. I’d fallen asleep on a park bench one night a month or so ago with my guitar case open in front of me, and I’d woken up to the dirty old hat laying right in the center of it. Underneath it was the rip off the edge of a piece of receipt paper, some chicken scratch handwriting across the bottom of it: “Looks like you need this more than I do”, was all it read.

I didn’t bother cleaning it, or trying in earnest to return it to its rightful owner, because they were right. A hat in the heat of the Kansas sun was like a godsend. It’s a pale beige straw with a camel brown leather strip, and I have to admit, it fits me like a glove. I made a mental note that day to take it with me wherever I go, and to always be thankful to the nameless stranger who had left it for me. Though it’s not my style, I still wear it with pride.

“Hat looks good on you, Cowboy. Sure you don’t wanna leave it on?” She smiles from her place on the bed.

Yeah, I’d brought the bartender home with me, obviously, after we’d shared plenty of back-and-forth banter with one another between the few sets our band played tonight. She’d managed to get me pretty drunk after the last set, sliding me a double shot of whiskey on the house after I insisted on tipping her for every beer I’d ordered.

I’d splurged on a king-sized bed tonight, forgoing joining the rest of the guys exploring the little Kansas town we’d found ourselves in. And I’m glad I did. The bartender, Sherry, I’d learned, is sprawled out in a red lace getup, making herself comfortable on the scratchy brown felt blankets and over starched sheets. She’s definitely fuckin’ sexy, and she’s easy to talk to, and I knew I’d made the right decision for the night when she didn’t actually get mad at me for my advances on her at the bar. She seems like just my kinda lover.

I rip my t-shirt over my head and toss it onto the floor behind me before clicking off the lamp on the nightstand beside us. My mind is still swirling from the adrenaline of the crowd and the feeling of the music we make, and from the intoxication I’d put onto myself. Fuckin’ whiskey.

At the last second I change my mind, grabbing the hat from the hook before I crawl toward her on the bed, hand over knee as I place it directly on top of her head.

“Yeah, I’m sure, think it would look better on you, anyhow,” I say, pressing it down a little to make it fit snugly on her. She giggles, reaching up to tilt the brim of it back to get a better look at me in the dim light reflecting from the cracked bathroom door.

“You tryin’ to tell me somethin’, Cowboy?” she says, pushing me by the shoulders to lie back into the pillows. “Tryin’ to tell me what you want, tonight?”

She thrusts one of her legs over my waist, straddling me fully as she lets one hand drift across my ink-covered torso while the other readjusts the hat on her head. Fuck, she really is fine as hell. Has a different look to her than most of the women back in Joslyn. A little grittier, a little more confident in herself. My hands immediately grip her thick thighs as I lick my lips, glad she picked up on my insinuation.

“I’ll take whatever you wanna give me, baby…” I say as my hips buck up into her, her bright red nails digging with a little force into my chest. My eyes blur from my drunkenness, but I can feel my heart racing with anticipation for whatever the night is about to bring me. The TV behind her is blasting late night MTV videos, Peter Gabriel, Dire Straits, ZZ Top… the light casting the silhouette of her perfect figure right in front of my face. Her tits are sitting perfectly in the lace, and I find myself slipping quickly into the feral mindlessness of foreplay. I reach my hand up to free her breast from the confines, gripping her left cup to rip it down.

I feel my mouth salivating as her perfect nipple perks up, and I feel no shame in taking it all in my hand. “You’re fuckin’ gorgeous baby…” I praise her, my filter nearly completely gone. I squeeze at it a few times before sitting up to take her in my mouth, bringing my tongue harshly across her nipple. Her head dips back at the contact as she sits down a little harder on me, grinding her hips a little and looking for friction.

“Fuck, Cowboy, we’re really gonna get into this?” she asks, her hips already circling on my hardening dick.

I hum onto her, making her hiss between her teeth. “Mmmhm, unless you want me to take you back home…”

“No no, no…” she urges, shaking her head side to side as it falls back, and I free her other breast, taking it into my mouth as well. “I’m good here.”

Her nails dig into me a little bit more, showing me that if we want this night to keep going how it is, I need to get myself together. She huffs a loud breath as she sits back, unbuckling my leather belt as her hands start to hastily shake. Her head tilts down and she looks at me again under the brim of the cowboy hat, her bottom lip sucking in and out of her mouth.

“You need a hand?” I ask, offering my help with the belt and button. She nods a little, and we work together to pull my pants and underwear all the way off. My dick springs free as she drops my pants to the floor and I can hardly decipher the string of words and obscenities that fall from her gorgeous red lips. She leans down, and without any warning at all, takes me all the way into her mouth.

My head falls back in surprise as my hips act on their own, pressing themselves to get me deeper into her throat. “Oh, shit, Sherry baby…” My hands find hers, and I give them a tight squeeze to let her know that I’m okay with going forward. Not that I really had any say so, anyway. Her tongue glides across the length of my cock, already begging for more as she pays special attention to the tip. Her red lipstick makes for a sinful visual, even in the partial darkness.

The air in the room is already starting to heat, heavy with the smell of lust mixed with cigarettes and bad decisions. I thought maybe I’d change when I left Joslyn, and I did, in many ways. But goddamnit if I didn’t keep the same fuckin’ love for my vices. Cheap beer, rolled smokes, and women. All shapes and sizes, all makes and models, fuck. I’ll never fuckin’ grow up, and I’m not sorry for it. And now I’ve added a whole new love to my roster- playing the ever-loving fuck out of a guitar.

“You wanna look at me, or not?” Sherry breaks my train of thoughts after she pops her lips off the tip of my dick.

I take a deep breath, watching as her hand takes the place of her mouth, slowly and languidly gliding her grip up and down the length of it. “Whatcha mean, baby?”

She crawls up on me, placing one hand on either side of my head. She leans down, placing the tiniest peck on my lips. “Reverse, or…”

“Oh…” I breathe, my body begging for more of her touch, anything at all, anywhere. “Can I pick both?”

She laughs a true laugh, displaying a dimple in her cheek, crawling back down the bed and stepping off the end of it. Her thumbs hook in the side straps of her thong, and she slowly sways her hips from side to side, pulling it slowly down her legs. She shimmies free of it before turning around, bending at the waist as she gives me quite the show yet again, just like I’d tricked her into doing at the bar.

“Fuck… bring yourself over here…” I beg of her again, holding my two middle fingers up to beckon her. My entire body is writhing with want, and I can feel myself already teetering on the edge of pleading. She does as I ask, her bottom half completely uncovered now as she crawls up on me once again, before turning herself around backwards. Yes, baby.

She glances at me over her shoulder before taking me in her hand again, working me up to where she wants me. She uses the utmost care in making sure I’m there again. She’s still flawless in the blue light of the TV as “Every Breath You Take” by the Police pops on behind her.

“Ugh, god I hate this song,” she complains quietly, and I barely hear her over the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. I’m too blissed out with the visual of her ass grinding against me to even register what she’d said.

“It’s so…whiney…” she complains again, her hand still working me. Her hand feels buttery soft against my cock, and I have to stop my stomach muscles from tightening in on themselves. God, I could already fuckin’ bust. “M’sorry Cowboy, I gotta turn this shit off. I can’t concentrate.”

“Damn, whatcha got against Sting?” I chuckle, a little miffed that she’s hopping off me to reach for the television knob. She twists it once, and I huff an aggravated breath as the news pops on.

It’s fuzzy and the picture is blurred, but I guess it appeases her more than the music did. She takes her position again as she grips my dick in her hand, leaning down just a little bit to take me in her mouth again. My hands knead at her ass as we pick right back up where we started from. My teeth are biting hard into my bottom lip, stifling the noise I want to let fly. “Goddamnit, Sher-“

Now, Sherry isn’t the first woman I’ve fallen victim to since leaving Joslyn, and she most definitely won’t be the last. Sometimes I think back on my time with Y/N, and how things had progressed so quickly with her before I got my head on straight and realized that I was moving in a direction my moral compass didn’t need to point. And when I realized my brother was madly in love with her.

Things had felt good with her during that time, and honestly, I thank her for it. Though we only spent a fraction of time together, she gave me a taste of what it felt like to truly care for someone in that regard, and she let me know that maybe my heart is big enough to love someone other than just Jake and Bubba. Watching her and Jake together taught me more than they ever even knew, showed me that with the right counterpart, even lungs full of cigarette smoke and hearts full of resentment can turn on a dime, and reciprocate a love they’d never even known before.

Love?

Nah, I never felt love for her. At least I don’t think I did. I did feel serious enough to want to change my life for her, that much was true. But thankfully I caught myself before I started to tumble. She helped me learn that I am capable of doing it, I can be that man for the right woman, if and when the time comes.

But that time isn’t now, and that woman isn’t Sherry.

“Fuck me, baby… god yes…” I groan into the thick air as Sherry finally sits all the way down on me, taking me fully inside her with one swift motion. I huff a fast breath through my gritted teeth, sitting up a little to get a better view of her. I grip her hips as she starts to rise up and down, getting a rhythm together as she starts to bounce.

Her hands move from in front of her on the bed, and one reaches back and grips her left ass cheek while the other holds on tight to my hat on her head. She feels like fucking heaven, silky sweet and velvety as she switches between backward thrusts. “How’s that, Cowboy? Feel good, baby?” she asks, her voice breathy as I watch her ass bounce against my thighs. She twists her head around to look at me with an eyebrow perked as she awaits my answer.

“Yeah… fuckin’ tight, baby, s’ perfect…” I could say more, but she switches herself up and hops to balance on just her feet, giving herself more space to ride me. She balances perfectly without the help of her hands, and somehow, the sight of her fucking just the tip makes me want to let it all go right there. Her wetness is dripping down on me, and it takes everything in me not to grab her hips and pull her all the way down again. But the show is just too damn good. I’m impressed, I really am, and I wonder if she does this with every victim at the bar that she flirts her way home with.

Ah, who gives a fuck. I’m her choice for the night just as she is mine.

This view has me throbbing inside her, and for a second I don’t know what to do with my hands. She starts slowly swirling her hips, her hands balanced on her knees as she works me to near perfection. “You’re gorgeous baby, keep it right there…” I groan, my entire body starting to burn with need. I bring my open palm across her ass, eliciting a high pitched squeal from her, followed by a devious laugh. Somehow, I knew she would like that and the visual of my red handprint on her skin pushes me even further.

I grab her hips and pull her down onto me, and I swear she feels even better than she did before. She falls back down to her knees into the position she was in before, still gyrating back onto me. I move my legs and sit up on my own knees, pressing a hand to her back as she leans down to all fours. I press deeper into her now, nearing myself closer and closer to the edge with this new angle. I feel rabid now, wanting to have all of her that I can in what I know will be this short span of time.

“Ssss, fuck…” she grits, her voice a near whine now as I begin pounding into her ruthlessly. Her walls are fluttering around me violently, and I realize now that I never even told her my name.

“Yes… yes…” She arches her back as she bucks her ass onto me, spreading her knees apart on the bed below and pressing her face into the mattress. “Harder, Cowboy, please…”

The hat is still hanging on for dear life as the room around me loses its shape, and all I can think about is the vicious sound of our bodies smacking together. I’m sure the neighbors are enjoying the sound of the headboard rattling against the wall, but I truly couldn’t care less. I’m trying to be careful not to leave bruises on her hip bones, but given the way the night has gone, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind, anyway.

Without warning, I feel her hand reach between her own legs, gripping my balls firmly in her hand, and giving them a few tight squeezes. The sensation has me mindblown and my knees weaken, like she knows exactly where my weakest spot is without me even telling her.

“Fuck, you’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?” I ask, my hips moving at an ungodly pace as she continues to squeeze. I’m not sure if she wants me to cum faster, or if she really just wants to give me a show. For this to be the first night the two of us have met, she’s really uncaring of any of her manners.

“Mmhm…” her breath is heavy, pitiful and wanting as I continue my relentlessness. “Just want you to feel…good, baby…” she whines through the thick blankets on the bed. Her hands are gripped tightly into them now, as she holds herself in this position.

I take a fistful of her hair in my hand tightly at the root, and pull her up to me. My sweat-covered chest is pressed against her back, and I grab one of her tits with my free hand. I stay buried deep inside her, and I can feel both our pulses raging through us as we catch our breath. “Sexy, Sherry…” I breathe into her ear. Her hips start looking for friction, and she begins grinding them back onto my cock again, slow and ragged as I know she’s getting near the finish line.

She falls onto her hands again and I feel us both begin to reach that point, and the muscles in our bodies start to shake and tremble. My eyes blur over as I wait to hear the sweet noises fall from her lips, but instead I’m met with another sound.

“Cowboy…” she says, her voice stern. But I barely hear her as I concentrate on my own pleasure. “Cowboy!” she repeats even louder, but I continue to drown her out, not letting up on pounding into her.

“DANIEL?” she yells, quickly pulling herself away from me and hopping across the hotel room.

“What, what? What’s wrong Sherry?” I ask, suddenly surprised and confused. She rips a sheet from the bed and covers herself with it, and I notice that her eyes are blown out with fear. She cowers in the corner as her eyes dart back and forth, searching for her clothes. I’m completely confused, and a little blindsided as my body tries to figure out what it should be doing.

“You– I, it’s you!” She points to the TV as the picture flashes across the screen. All I see is the face of a news anchorman, reading something off the papers in his hands.

I stand from the bed and walk closer to it, watching as he continues to read. “Sher, it’s just the news, what do you–”

“Get away from me!” she cries, stepping back harshly into the wall. “Don’t touch me!” She suddenly seems as if she is a trapped animal, searching for her escape.

I instinctively walk toward her. “Sherry, what in the world?! I’m sorry if I–”

“Stop! Don’t come any closer! You fucking liar!” Her eyes are wide and terrified as she looks at the television again, and I’m nearly frozen in place as I try to piece together the past few seconds. I look from her to the TV again, and the picture is staticy and fuzzy. I back away from her and adjust the antenna, watching as the picture clears a bit. I turn up the volume and listen to the anchorman speak. I feel my legs hit the back of the bed and I sit down harshly, waiting to see what in the fuck Sherry saw for myself.

“Authorities are asking for the public’s assistance in locating these men, as they are believed to be armed and likely dangerous. It is positively believed that they are directly responsible for the death of a man in Joslyn, Missouri, by means of murder by arson. Both men fled the town shortly after the incident, and are believed to be living separately, or traveling on the run.” My hand shoots to my mouth as I watch in complete terror as a sketch of mine and Jake’s faces cover the TV screen. “Authorities are just now building a solid case, and need your help in finding these men. If you have any information regarding their whereabouts, please call the telephone number at the bottom of your screen.”

I feel the blood drain from my body as I take the first breath I have in nearly a minute, and I feel myself going into a state of shock.

What… the fuck…

I feel Sherry’s body rush toward me as she drops the sheet that was covering her to pick up the clothing she had strewn across the dingy carpeted floor. “I gotta get out of here…” she rushes, her hands shaking.

“Sherry, listen to me. I can explain-”

“Explain? Explain what?! That you’re a murderer?!” she screams, and I watch as fearful tears begin to well in her eyes. She hastily pulls her shirt over her head and I listen to her breathing pick up as she tries to calm herself.

“I’m not a murderer, Sherry! Listen to me! I swear you have no reason to be afraid of me…I–I just let me talk, please…” I beg her, my voice rising with the temperature of my skin.

“Stop. Shut up. I’m getting away from you, and I’m callin’ the police,” she says through a completely shaken voice as she steps back into her shorts. I can tell she is in complete self-protection mode.

What in the fuck is going on? How did this happen?

My heart rate starts to rise as everything hits me… the sketch of my face on the screen, Jake’s face… armed and dangerous, wanted for murder by arson… My head is spinning with confusion, with worry, with the sudden want to run, myself. I think about Jake, and about Y/N, and how I haven’t spoken to them in a few days. Do they know? Where is Bubba, are he and Geraldine okay?

It’s then that I realize I can’t let Sherry go, I can’t let her call.

“Sherry, stop. Can you just listen to me for a second?” I ask again, grabbing her by the shoulders with as little force as possible. She tries to pry herself away, so I switch gears, knowing that if she isn’t going to listen, I have to use another tactic. “You do not need to get into this, this goes a lot deeper than it looks on the surface, Sherry. Please. I’m not a monster. I swear to god, I’m not.”

“You expect me to fuckin’ believe you? You never even told me your fuckin’ name! Daniel, is that even it?” she cries, the tears flowing down her face.

“Yes! Yes, that is my real name. That much is true. And the other man, that’s my brother. His name is Jacob. Jake,” I explain, trying to throw sincerity into my already panicked voice. I adjust her shirt that she had pulled back over her head, straightening the fabric to cover her more. “We are from Joslyn, Missouri. And… And-”

“And you fucking killed a man!” she yells, ripping herself from my hold. “You’re insane! Are you a serial killer? Because if you are, I swear to god that you won’t leave this goddamned town in one fuckin’ piece, do you understand me?” she threatens, catching her breath. “I’ve got friends, Cowboy, friends in low fuckin’ places who would walk to the ends of the earth for me. I wouldn’t test my fuckin’ luck. All it would take is one call, and you’d be a dead man, yourself.”

I watch as she swallows, suddenly feeling a bit brave as the sexual mindset completely leaves us both.

“I don’t doubt it, Sherry. I don’t doubt that one bit.” I swallow down my panic and sit back down, trying to diffuse the situation as best as I can. In a split second, I bargain whether or not I should tell her the whole story, the whole truth, but I know that would leave her with more questions that I fear she simply won’t care to have answered, as scared as she is. I want to be honest with her, I really do. But I also want to seem as clueless as I can so as not to make things worse. “I’m not a serial killer. I swear to god. I may look rough around the edges, and barely have a penny to my name, but I’m no killer, Sher. Swear on my life.”

She’s clutching her purse in her arms, hugging into herself with her worried facial expression tight as she takes my words into consideration. She’s listening to me…

“Back at home, my brother Jake and I were into some deep shit, some shit we didn’t want to have anything to do with, but we had no choice. Had been years upon years of never ending cycles of threats and manipulation. We had nothing, we were nothing. We weren’t saints, but we were good, honest, working men. Just tryin’ our best to survive, ya know? We uh… we were being threatened, our lives were being threatened… our home. The people we loved…” I rub a hand across my face as all the memories of just a few months ago come rushing back to my mind. Bubba, Josh… and Sam…

“It was going to end badly. It was going to be deadly in ways that we couldn’t even fathom. Along with innocent people who loved us getting caught up in it, too. These men were monsters, liars and cheats. Gave a damn for no one but themselves. So we got some help. We got some help from our own friends in low places, Sher, and they helped us to make moves to end it, get us out of the situation. And it uh… It just so happened that the man who was threatening us, the man who wanted us dead, got caught in the crossfire. He came to kill us, but ended up killing himself, instead.” I know it’s not the entire truth, and there are details that I could go on about for days, but for now, this explanation will have to do. I have to make sure she sees my side of the story. If not, it’s handcuffs.

I feel bile rising in my throat from even disclosing this much. She shouldn’t even know that much of the story. I could have lied, I should have lied… but for some reason something deep inside me stops me from it. I’ve never been a liar in my life and I won't start now.

Sherry’s body is shaking with adrenaline, or maybe even fear, but she’s calm. “Why you tellin’ me this, Cowboy?” she whispers, pulling out a box of cigarettes from her purse. She plucks one out and lights the end, taking a long drag. Her hand shakes as her thumb and ring finger balance on her cheek, the smoke billowing around her face.

I swallow. “Because, it’s the truth. Last thing I’m gonna do is lie to you. Don’t have any reason to.”

She takes another long puff, and I find myself envying the nicotine. “Why ain’t you lyin’ to me? You don’t even know me…”

I shake my head, pulling the sheet back over my exposed lower half. “I’ve never been one to lie. Never really got me anywhere but in trouble, anyway. I ain’t got a perfect past, Sherry, that’s the honest truth. But I’m not running from my demons, I’m running from a past that I don’t want followin’ me.”

She brings her lips into her mouth, taking another few puffs of her cigarette. I say a prayer that she’s considering my plea. It feels like hours that I stare at her just standing there, her eyes floating around the room before her cigarette is nothing but a filter. She moves to the nightstand, putting out the butt in the ashtray by the phone. She turns her back to me and blows the last puff of smoke into the air before her hand scratches the back of her head.

“I ain’t gonna call the cops,” she admits quietly.

I stand quickly and go to her, stopping myself from taking her in a full embrace. “Fuck, thank you thank you, Sherry. Really, I– Thank you.”

“You’ve got one hour. Get your shit, and get the fuck out of here,” she warns, crossing her arms again. “If I see you here still, it’s straight to the police. And don’t ever come back to this town, do you understand?”

“Yeah, yeah I get it. I won’t,” I promise as I begin working to collect my few things from the floor. She stands and watches me as I pack, and I know that she’s fighting the urge to go back on her word as her eyes move from me, to the phone, to the door, and back again. This is taking a lot from her.

I finally have my few items shoved into my bag, and I realize that reality is once again hitting me right across the fucking face. I sit on the edge of the bed and pat the blankets, inviting Sherry to come and sit by me. She does, slowly, and with the utmost caution.

“Why you helpin’ me?” I ask quietly.

“Cause,” she chokes, pulling her tongue to the side of her cheek. “Feel like you’d’a done the same for me. I’ve been where you are, Cowboy. Maybe not for arson, maybe not for murder, but I’ve been there.”

I nod in understanding, extremely thankful understanding.

“And I don’t feel like you’re tellin’ me the whole story. Sounds like you and your brother have some skeletons in your closet. And I ain’t no judge, and I ain’t God. Who am I to decide what your reasonin’ was?”

I take a deep breath, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude for her words. I take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips to kiss over and over. “I need you to understand that it was life or death for us. Was us or him. The cards we were dealt just happened to fall that way. We did nothin’ in cold blood, Sherry. Please believe me.”

She finally looks me in the eyes for the first time in a while. “I believe you, Daniel. I don’t fuckin’ know why, but I do. God, I’m insane for doin’ this…”

“You might be, Sher, but that’s why you and I were drawn to each other, I think,” I try to lighten the mood, and she gives me a half smile.

“Still don’t like you,” she groans, giving me a lethal side eye.

I stand and wipe my hands across my thighs. “You must like me some…” I lean down to her, letting my nose graze across hers. To my surprise, she doesn’t pull away. I hear her breath hitch as I watch her reason with herself on deciding to let me, or slap me.

When she doesn’t pull away, I lick my bottom lip, gently brushing it across hers as her eyes flutter closed. My heart rate rises again as my body reacts, suddenly pulled right back into where we had just left off minutes ago. I must be fuckin’ sick in the head.

“Fuckin’ vagabond,” she whispers, her breath hot across my lips. “Criminal…”

I laugh against her. “I ain’t none of them things, baby. Troubadour, maybe…”

I let my lips crash onto hers again, pissed at myself for being this way. Why am I this way? I need to run…I need to call Jake.

But she kisses me back, her hand immediately flying to the back of my head to pull me in closer. God, she’s just as fucked up as I am.

It’s heated and messy again as I push her back onto the bed, her nails already digging into my back as we writhe together. She moans into my mouth as I press my groin into her, making sure I’m in just the right spot. We lie like this for a few minutes, both of us knowing we’re soaking up the last bits of each other that we’re going to get.

“I ain’t lettin’ you fuck me again, Cowboy. This is just a goodbye kiss…” she breathes, her teeth nipping at my stubbled jawline.

“You sure?” I ask as my eyes roll back. “I never got to hear you come for me…”

She laughs a guttural cry, shaking her head as she scoffs at me. “And you won’t. Not right now, at least.”

I grind between her legs again. “Thought you told me to never come back to this town?” I ask cheekily.

I pull away, looking her in the eye as she takes a quick breath to speak. “People saw me leave with you. Same people who are watchin’ the news, right now. They will recognize you. They’ll be breathin’ down my neck with interrogation on your whereabouts before the sun rises. I was a drifter once, too. Looks like I’ll just have to go back to my old ways…”

“Run with me, Sherry,” I ask before my mind can even process the thought.

“Nah, that’s not part of the deal.” She pats my chest with her hands, signaling me to get off of her. So I stand, understanding that our time together has come to a close, and I need to make a fuckin’ break for it. “Shame, though. You’re some of the best dick that’s come through this town in a while.”

I can’t help but laugh at her as she stands from the bed along with me. “Thanks, I think.”

“Get the hell out of here, Cowboy. Go. Don’t talk to nobody, and keep your head down. Head East and don’t fuckin’ look back, ok? There’s a fueling station about twenty-five miles outside of town on Route 40. Red pumps. Stop there, they don’t think twice about drifters. Call your brother from there. Let him know you’re comin’.”

“How’re you so good at this?” I ask her, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

She sucks her teeth as she fixes her hair and residual lipstick in the motel mirror. “Told you I was a drifter once, too. Some things are just in your blood, ya know?” She turns to me, craning her neck up as we prepare to say an actual goodbye.

“Can I give you somethin’ to remember me by?” I ask, holding my cowboy hat out to offer to her.

She shakes her head, taking it from my hand and placing it back on top of my curls. “No, you’re gonna need it. It’s gotten you this far…” She adjusts it on my head, brushing a few stray hairs away from my face, in an act of pure softness. “Actually, wait,” she says, brushing past me to open her purse sitting on the table. A few seconds later, she emerges with a brand new Polaroid camera in her hands. “How about a photo to remember you by?”

I second guess it, not really wanting a perfect stranger to have her own photograph of me, but Sherry has shown me more mercy than I deserve tonight, and a photo is the least I could do.

“Sure, why not,” I agree, adjusting the hat on my head once again.

“Here, put these on,” she suggests, handing me my aviator sunglasses that were by her bag on the table. I oblige, feeling a little out of place, but going along with it all anyway. She pulls the camera up to her eye and positions her finger over the button, making sure I’m in the frame. “Smile for me, baby…”

I know my cheeks blush at her words, but she snaps the photo before I have the chance to make myself look ready for it.

“Hope I didn’t break your lens,” I joke.

“Nah, it’ll be perfect. Thanks.” Her smile sends butterflies through my stomach for the third time tonight, and if things were different, I might have asked Sherry to come on the road with me for real. But I know that the issues I’m running from are bigger than anything she needs to be involved with, right now. Maybe I’ll see her again some other time, in some other smoky bar.

I grab her chin between my fingers, laying a sweet kiss to her lips. “I’ll see you around, Sherry. Thank you. Be safe out there.”

She gives me a sweet wink as she sniffs a quick tear away. “Back at ya, Cowboy.”

—

“Come on… please pick up… pick up…” I whisper into the payphone as I try to will Jake to answer on the other end. The last we spoke was about six days ago, and he and Y/N had been traveling around scoping out places to live. They’d settled in a little apartment just outside of Memphis, where I had originally planned on busking around to make some cash. I liked it there, but the winds of change kept me rolling down the road to a new nowhere.

I’d ridden into this tiny slice of highway with only my guitar on my back and my bag hooked to Ruby, and I silently thank her for carrying me this far on my journey. The guys in the band had let me put her in the cramped equipment trailer that they had luckily left unlocked when I left the motel. Careless sons of bitches, I could have easily stolen anything I wanted.

I hated leaving them without any word, but they’ll most likely see the news, and be glad that I decided to run away, anyway.

“Hello?” a gravelly voice answers.

“Jake, hey, did I wake you?” I yell anxiously into the payphone at the gas station Sherry had told me about. She had been right, the attendant never even looked at my face as I threw my gas money onto the counter.

“Yeah, it’s fuckin 4AM, what’s wrong?” he replies, his voice thick and full of sleep. “Are you OK?”

Fuck. Of course he hasn’t seen the news.

“Ah, no not really… are you uh. Are you with Y/N?” I ask, running my fingers through my hair as I peek around the corner to make sure Ruby is still sitting where I parked her.

I can hear him rustling on the other end of the line, finally getting his bearings. “Yeah, she’s right here, why? What’s goin’ on?”

I clear my throat nervously, “Turn on the news. Local, maybe.”

I hear him rustling around again as he pulls himself out of bed, taking a deep, shaky breath as he wakes Y/N. “Danny, I don’t like that you’re not fuckin’ tellin’ me what’s going on.”

“Just go,” I urge him, my head on a swivel.

There’s a pause before I hear him move around and switch the television on. “You’re lucky, we just got this fuckin’ TV yesterday… Hardly know how to work the damn thing yet.” he complains.

“Just–” I bite my tongue, waiting for him to see what he will inevitably see flash across the screen very soon. There’s a pause again and I hear the faint sound of Y/N’s voice beside him.

“Oh my fuckin’ god,” he says blankly. “Oh… oh, fuck. What–”

“Just listen to it,” I say quietly, letting him listen to the whole news story.

“That’s our fucking faces, Daniel.”

“I know. I know it is,” I begin to pace as far as the short payphone cord will let me. “What the fuck are we gonna do?”

I hear Y/N’s worried voice again. “Jake, what… they can’t do this…”

“It’s gonna be okay, baby” he reassures her, but I can hear the doubt in his voice. “Danny, where are you?”

I clear my throat again, getting my head back on straight. “Uh, just outside of Topeka. ‘Bout 25 miles. I’m headed your way.”

“Do you know my new address?” he asks, overtop of more rustling and heavy breathing.

“Yeah,” I reply, “got it memorized.”

“Well forget it. We’re going somewhere else. We can’t be here,” he says angrily.

“Jake, but, you just–”

“Y/N, do you remember Oz’s address? Lucienda’s?” I hear him ask her, and I immediately agree that going to them might be our best shot, even though Oz is most likely still serving his time for the last circus we got ourselves into.

“Yeah, I think so…” I hear her reply. “But Jake, we can’t just leave…”

I hear subtle aggravation in his tone, but he manages to keep it at bay. “I paid ahead three months’ rent, Y/N. We’re just… gonna leave for a while.”

“Jake what the fuck are we gonna do? Turn ourselves in?” I press.

“I–I don’t know yet. No, we just play dumb for now. We need to get to Lucienda. Talk to her. She’ll be able to protect us for a while, she’ll know what to do,” he says.

“I’ve got my fuckin’ bike, Jake. I won’t be able to make it anywhere fast, especially not to fuckin’ Miami,” I say, suddenly a little panicked again. I pull my tin of smokes from my pocket and light the end of one. The rush of nicotine instantly fills my lungs and calms me. Well, enough for now.

“I know you can’t,” he says, taking a breath. “We need to go back to Joslyn first.”

“Joslyn?” I practically yell into the phone. Quickly looking around. “Are you fuckin’ crazy?! That’s the last place we need to go, Jake!”

But in the back of my mind, I know he’s right. We don’t have to show our faces, just a quick in and out to hide my bike and grab the last bit of cash we ended up hiding back in Ace’s safety deposit box for emergencies. And, we have to make sure Bubba is safe. With this new surge of information, god knows whether or not Teddy’s guys have gone after him yet, looking for some type of vengeance.

“You know I’m right…” he says quietly. “How long has it been since you’ve talked to Bubba?”

I swallow, taking another drag. “Week and a half. Maybe two.” I hadn’t been traveling with the band very long, but I know that I had told Bubba of the good news of them hiring me on, so it was around the same time. The last we talked, he claimed he was safe and sound.

“Same here,” Jake says, taking a long pause as he thinks. “Get to Joslyn, stay quiet. We’ll meet at the old house by the creek. Nobody even knows that place is there anymore. It’s our best bet.”

“Okay,” I agree, nodding my head. “You gonna call Bub? Or do you want me to?”

“I’ll call the diner. Tell Geraldine everything. She’ll tell the truth, Bubba will sugarcoat if there’s anyone fuckin’ with him.”

“True,” I agree, exhaling again. “We can’t get on a fuckin’ plane, Jake. Someone will recognize us. It’ll take us days to travel to Miami and we need to get there fast.” My mind suddenly starts to spin with all the different plans of action. None of them seem like the right one. Traveling to Miami seems like too much land to cover, but staying in Joslyn doesn’t feel right, either.

“Then what the fuck do you suggest we do?!” he exclaims. “We ain’t got a fuckin’ home, anymore, Daniel.” I can tell he whispers that last bit into the phone.

“I’ll meet you at the creek. We’ll make a plan from there.” I stomp my cigarette out onto the cracked pavement, my skin beginning to sweat with nerves as I glance around again.

“Okay,” he says again through a huff of grievance.

“Bub’s okay, right Jake? He’s alright?” my voice feels hollow as the words fall.

I can hear Jake exhale on the other end, the same rush of worry flowing through him as it runs through me. “Yeah, he’s alright. And if he’s not… If they’ve touched him again…” He’s quiet for a second, and I can almost hear his teeth gritting together. I know that the exact same thought is running through both of our minds. I haven’t seen Jake mad in a really long time, but I know it wouldn’t take much for him to snap back into his old ways, especially when it comes to Bubba.

“I’ll see you at the creek,” I say with conviction, and I hang up the phone, wholly not ready for this journey.

—

Well, here I am. Joslyn. Dirty and run down as ever, quiet but loud at the same time. A once bustling town rich with life and aspiring men looking to provide for their families now a mess of cracked sidewalks and sunken rooftops. Failed and closed storefronts, abandoned homes… the list goes on. This place is never gonna fuckin’ change.

It’s been a long two days’ travel coming back here, and I halfway regret not renting a vehicle to be a little more inconspicuous coming back into town. But, an unknown car rolling through Main Street might set people off all the same.

My stomach churns with old nerves coming back to the surface again, old habits and muscle memory making me feel like my head is already on a swivel again. It’s nearing 8PM as I roll into town, so I’m careful not to hit the throttle on my bike any more than just a light idle. The last thing I need is someone hearing me and suspecting I may be back.

As the late evening sun begins to disappear from the sky, I pass by Wanda’s motel, still just as shitty and run-down as it was. Teddy’s dry cleaning building, now looking either half-alive or closed completely since he’s not around to make it look like an actual fake business now. The bank, the countless churches… and the grocery store.

The grocery store.

I grit my teeth as I realize that Jake, Y/N and I will need supplies and food if we’re going to be hiding out in the old cabin for a few days. I hope to god his ass thought to bring blankets and pillows, and hopefully some food. I wonder if they’ve beat me here. I have no way of knowing, besides going all the way there first to check, but then if I don’t stop, I risk spending a whole night without food or water. Or whiskey.

I quietly pull my bike into the back parking lot of the store, parking it alongside the building behind the ice cooler. My hands are already shaking, I have to admit, and as I pull the kickstand down, my eyes dash quickly to my sides to ensure no one has followed me. Just a few stray bodies here and there coming in to grab a TV dinner before retreating back to the trailer park to finish off a six-pack. The coast is seemingly clear.

I pull a cigarette from my tin and stretch my legs, hyping myself up to go into this grocery store where nearly everyone knows my face. Or, knew my face. After a minute or two, my boot extinguishes the butt of my smoke and I take a deep breath, the finally-cooling Autumn air filling my lungs and bringing me back down to earth a bit. I grab the cowboy hat from my pack and place it diligently on my head, tucking my hair up underneath it to conceal another one of my identifying factors. I pull out my wallet to make sure I still have enough cash for some food, at least, and I step in through the glass doors.

It looks and smells exactly the same, musty cardboard mixed with the faint scent of a floor cleaner, with the fluorescent lights overhead barely providing enough light to brighten the poorly stocked aisles. I don’t know why I expected it to be any different, we’ve only been gone a few months, though it feels like an eternity.

I put my head down and make a mad dash down the first aisle, luckily remembering the place like the back of my hand. I grab a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a box of saltines, tossing them into a shopping basket I’d found abandoned in the aisle. “What else, what else…” I whisper to myself, ignoring the eyes of each and every person I walk by. My heart is thrumming in my chest as I pace up and down the aisles, throwing a few more cheap yet necessary items into the basket.

When I’ve finally gotten it full, I race to the checkout line, but not before stopping and grabbing a half-pint of Early Times, a box of matches, and a bag of cut tobacco. I place my basket onto the checkout counter, keeping my head down still as I realize the clerk is someone who knows me well. Knows me very well.

“You 18, kid? Can’t sell you this if not…” he says, his voice still just as crackled and raspy as the day I met him. He stands the whiskey bottle up on its base as I swallow my nerves down, one by one. He cranes his neck to look at me from underneath the bill of my hat.

“Kid, hey, you got any ID on ya?” he asks again, his wrinkled hands the only thing I can focus on. Fuck. He sees my ID, he recognizes me. Recognizes me as the murderer on the loose, in the very town he ran from. My heart is pounding, how had I not thought of this? He’s never ID’d me before, but then again, he knew me. He snaps his fingers when he realizes I’m not meeting his eyes or answering him.

I peek up gently, thankful that I’d decided to leave my sunglasses on at the last minute. “Ah, ya know, left it at home, I think. Had a long day. I don’t need the bottle,” I say, trying like hell to conceal my voice, yet keep my local accent. I push it to the side as I pull my wallet out and prepare to pay for the rest.

“Shit,” he says under his breath. He scans the whiskey and slides it into a paper bag, slipping it in beside the rest of my items before hitting the total button on his register. “Ain’t no thing. Can tell ya hands is dirty, can’t deny a workin’ man his vices,” he grits quietly. “That’ll be $19.70,” he says a little louder now, and I feel a relief lift from my shoulders, all the sound coming back into my ears now that my heart rate isn’t flying.

I can finally hear the muffled music coming over the speakers in the ceiling, along with the beeps of the checkout lines beside me. I pull a twenty from my wallet and graciously place it in the man’s hand. It’s funny, all the years I’ve been coming to this place, and I never learned this man’s name. He doesn’t even wear a nametag.

“Appreciate that, old timer. Saved me a night of sittin’ with my troubles,” I reply, avoiding his eyes again as he hands me my change.

“Don’t we all need that,” he grumbles as he hands me my bags. “Ya know, I don’t recognize you. You from ‘round here?”

Goddamnit, goddamnit. Think.

“Uh, yeah. From up on Bolter Street. Been gone awhile, moved back to take care of my folks,” I say, clearing my throat. I used to live on Bolter Street, many many moons ago. That part isn’t a lie.

“Hmph,” he grunts, pulling a toothpick between his lips as he squints at me. “Not a lot of folk live on Bolter much anymore. Street kinda died with the town.” I can tell his tone is interrogatory, and I feel the sweat beginning to pool on my forehead. Get it together, Daniel.

“S’why they called on me.” I nod and give him a curt smile as I begin to back away. “Have a good evenin’, sir.”

I grab the bags and tip the brim of my hat, making my way back out of the store and into the fresh air. “Fuck,” I breathe as I reach my bike. That was fuckin’ close. If it was that hard to get groceries, how in the hell are we going to do literally anything else?

I cram the bags into my side packs, uncaring if I smash the bread or not. I’m anxious, and desperately in need of a damned drink. I wish like hell I could go to Canaries’ for a beer, but who knows what state that hellhole is even in, anymore. Or if the clientele is even the same. Shit, that place used to be a haven for people like us, until it wasn’t. Until Teddy and his crew turned it into a place where you had to look over your shoulder every other second, or else you risked a cue stick across your back if you said a sly word.

I need to make my escape, and I need to make it fast.

I kick the stand on my bike and pull the key from my pocket, sticking it into the ignition and turning it over a few times before she starts. I plan to take as many back streets as I can to avoid going straight through town again, but that’s not as easy as it looks. Passing by the diner is going to be necessary.

A minute or so later, I’m cruising by Louie’s Diner, the parking lot only holding two or three vehicles as opposed to the normal ten or twenty. Strange, I think to myself, and I slow down and peer in the windows a little more closely. There behind the counter is Geraldine, looking worse for wear than I had seen her in a very long time. Maybe ever, actually. My heart falls as I realize she looks nothing like herself. Her hair isn’t fixed, and her nails aren’t painted their normal bright, red color.

I quickly glance to the end of the bar where Bubba normally sits, finding the chair to be empty. Again, my stomach falls at the realization that he isn’t there, waiting with Geraldine to finish up her dinner shift like he normally is.

Shaking my head, I concentrate my attention back onto the road in front of me as the abandoned houses begin to turn back into the forest, and the two-lane turns back into one. I snap my headlight on as I rack my brain, trying to think of where Bubba could be, if he is okay, and why Geraldine looks so down. My stomach churns with nerves at the possibilities, but I hold out hope that maybe he had just gone home for the night, and Geraldine is just tired.

I cruise down the winding road toward the creek, trying like hell to breathe in the fresh air to calm me. I pray I don’t pass any police cars, or anyone who would recognize my bike. But as the asphalt turns to more of a rocky concrete beneath my tires, I begin to feel a little relief. Man, I could really use a fuckin’ smoke.

I cross over the bridge and turn onto the dirt road, the same one that Jake, Ace, Bubba and I had used so many times to get to our special spot on the creek. Darkness has fallen now, and I find myself feeling a little nostalgic at the scenery. For the first time in months, I see things that I could recognize even in complete darkness, I take curves that I could turn blindfolded, and I begin to smell the scent of the murky water and mossy trees that line the creek. No matter how much I hated it, no matter how badly I wanted to run away, this will always be home. Joslyn will always be a place that lives in my heart, no matter how dusted and horrible the time I spent here was.

I make another right turn, watching for any other vehicles to be parked and out for one last late-night fishing pole cast before the weather starts to break. When I find our spots to be empty, I gain yet another feeling of relief. The gravel turns into thick bedrock, and I use caution as I navigate Ruby down, all the way to the bridge by the swimming hole.

I park the bike at the foot of the hillside and stand, remembering that I have a spare flashlight in my pack, equipped with brand new batteries. I dig it out and turn it on, slowly panning around to take in my surroundings again. It still looks just the same as it always did, the large leaf-covered trees leaning over the water to provide almost a storybook-like scene. But this town is anything but a storybook. The frogs and crickets know that their time is almost up, and their songs have begun to slow and their tones have become deep. Again, my nostalgia almost knocks me over.

I push my bike over to a cluster of trees, lodging it between a few trunks out of sight of the road. I bite the flashlight between my teeth and begin pulling my bags and necessities from my side packs. My guitar suddenly feels like a burden, when for months all it was was an object of comfort. Now, it feels like something that might weigh me down the further along I go on this journey. Either way, I throw the makeshift rope case strap over my shoulder and begin lugging my things across the old bridge, straight toward the cabin.

As I trudge through the thick mud, thankful for my high boots, the beam of my flashlight catches something reflective down the creek a bit, and I nearly drop all the bags in my hands. “Shit,” I gasp, gripping my hands onto everything more tightly. I glance over, realizing that my light had bounced off a tail light. I walk a little closer and shine the light more directly, seeing that the tail light belongs to Jake’s truck.

“Son of a bitch,” I mumble with relief, suddenly realizing that I’m not alone in the least. My best friends are just on the other side of this treeline. Not just my best friends, but my family.

I put a little pep in my step, letting the thick pine branches pull at my sleeves as I traipse along the muddy creek bed, straight up the incline and onto the trail to the cabin. I feel excited to see them, but also in the back of my mind I know that our meeting isn’t going to be a joyous one. It’s going to be one of deciding on our next move of survival.

After a few minutes’ hike, I’m finally to the clearing at the cabin, and what I see in front of me isn’t what I expected in the least. Instead of the old, dilapidated building I had spent many a summer in, the cabin is now more of a house, with a new roof, a repaired front porch, and even a brand new front door. What in the hell?

I see a faint light on inside, and I stop for a second, hesitating on whether or not to proceed. Is someone living here now? No, no one knows about this place except for us. And maybe a few trusted others who have caught word of it over the years.

If it weren’t for me seeing Jake’s truck, I may have considered turning around, but just as I approach the rickety stairs of the cabin, the front door flies open, and a silhouette that isn’t Jake is standing in the doorway.

“Daniel, my boy! You made it!”

“Bub?!” I drop my bags and the flashlight in my mouth, rushing up the stairs to greet the old man. He wraps his arms around me as I take him around his shoulders, the both of us pounding our open palms against each other’s backs. “What are you doing here? We were going to surprise you!” I say as we finally break apart.

“Surprise? You boys ain’t as slick as you think you are…” he chuckles a raspy laugh as he replaces his cap on his head. “Practically raised ya, and ya can’t even tell an old man you’re comin’ home?”

“Ah, Bub, we were going to, but–”

“Hey you just gonna leave me hangin’ over here?!” I hear Jake’s familiar gravelly timbre fill the air as he plummets into me, almost knocking me back as his arms embrace me. The embrace of a brother. “Heyyy, brother…” I laugh, not sure of the last time Jake and I actually hugged. It’s funny, we spent so much time together for so many years, I was positive that when I left him and went my own way, I wouldn’t think twice about it. And I didn’t really, until I’d find myself needing to ask him a question only he would know the answer to, or I’d hear an old Neil Young song in a bar. It was at those times that I realized he’s the other half of me, and he always will be. We do alright being apart, but the world feels more at ease when we’re together.

We pull apart, and I catch sight of Y/N leaned in the doorway, her arms crossed across her chest as she eyes us with a sweet, familiar smile. “Well looky here, the two outlaws, themselves,” she grins, and I immediately pull her into the same embrace that I’d pulled Bubba into. She feels a little different now, not sure why, or how, just different. Her hair is longer and she’s got a suntan from the Tennessee rays. My mind hardly ever reminisces on the time we shared together, and I’m thankful for the fact that we have been able to stay good friends after our whirlwind romance. She’s as much a part of me as Jake is, now. Just in a different way.

I feel her fingernails scratching at my back as we hug, and her voice is muffled as she tries to speak with her mouth pressed against my chest. “You two really couldn’t even manage to stay out of trouble for six months, could you?” she playfully complains. “The hell am I gonna do with ya…”

“Not even funny, Y/N,” I say, pushing at her shoulder as Jake and Bubba make their way inside the cabin with my bags in hand. We follow them in, and Bubba pulls the door closed behind me. He pulls a deadbolt, and a slide-lock, and a chain lock across the brand new door, and kicks a wooden wedge up underneath it.

“Damn, what is this, Alcatraz?” I ask, too surprised to take a look around the place.

“Might as well be,” Bubba says, rushing over to the windows to pull the heavy blue curtains in front of them.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask, finally taking notice of the state of the cabin. The interior has been completely re-done, though not all brand new, it looks better than it used to. The floor is no longer caved in, and the roof has been repaired. There’s a table and chairs, and a large couch in the living area, along with two recliners. There are dishes on the shelves, and a wood stove has been installed in the corner of the kitchen. “What happened to this place?”

“Come, sit, Daniel,” Bubba beckons me, and I make my way over to the chair he has pulled out for me. Jake and Y/N follow suit, and he takes his seat last. The air in the room is heavy, and I realize that the only light is coming from three oil-burning lanterns placed around the old tables and countertops of the house. The warm flickering glow accentuates Bubba’s wrinkles, reminding me yet again that he isn’t getting any younger and that the world has continued turning.

“I was just tellin’ these two, Danny, I took the liberty of movin’ up here ‘bout, oh, five, six weeks ago. Been trying my best to fix the place up, make it feel like home. I know you two wouldn’t care, and I know your Pops wouldn’t have cared eith–”

“Wait wait wait,” I cut him off. “Moved? What do you mean you moved?”

“I mean, I moved. All my things are here, in the back bedroom,” he responds matter-of-factly.

“What about your trailer? Your place?” I ask, my hands flattening across the dusty wooden tabletop.

Bubba licks his wrinkled lips, bringing his hand up to rub across his shaven chin. “Sold it, son. Property and all. I just… wanted away from it. Wasn’t doin’ me no good.”

“But you said right before we left that you were happy, when we asked you to come with us, you said you were fine–”

“Hell, ‘course I did, Daniel. You wouldn’ta left and gone out on your own if I’d’a told you my plans.” He pauses, clasping his hands together. “Plus, Geraldine and I separated, knew this would be a better place for me, anyway. Give me somethin’ to keep my hands busy.”

All three sets of our eyes grow ten times in size. “Bub, what?” Jake nearly yells. “You separated? Why?”

Bubba waves us off, almost like it is no big deal. “Aw, shit, boys. You know damn good and well why. After y'all left, shit fell apart even worse than it was already fallin’. After Teddy died, and his posse didn’t have a head honcho no more, they started goin’ out on their own, causin’ more trouble than they had before. Stealin’, botherin’ folk… Teddy was a piece of shit but he kept those vagrants in line, I will say.” He rubs his hand over his chin again as he adjusts his legs under the table. “Anyway, I… I didn’t feel safe… havin’ these ties with you boys, and, and the shop burnin’ down and the history we already had with Teddy. I just didn’t want Geraldine caught up in it, ya know? Didn’t want her worryin’, or worse yet bein’ a new target for them boys. She don’t deserve that. Don’t deserve it at all. Thought it best I just leave her to herself.”

“Bubba, that’s ridiculous!” Jake says, and we nod in agreement. “I–I mean, I know where you’re comin’ from, but. You two are in love, made for each other.”

“Yeah,” Y/N adds, “wouldn’t you feel safer being with her? I mean, keeping a closer eye out for her is easier when you live in town, right?”

Now I know why Geraldine looked so down. She had just gotten dumped.

I pull the half-pint of whiskey I had shoved in my pocket, cracking the lid and tilting it back for a few refreshing seconds. I pass it off to Jake, and he happily rips it from my hand and does the same.

Bubba grits his jaw and shakes his head and hands at us. “It was for the best, just trust me. But that’s enough about me. We need to figure out what in the hell to do about this new problem of yours.”

“What happened in town?” I ask. “After we left? Did they come after you?”

“I said enough about me, Daniel. You hard of hearin’?”

“He asked you an honest question, Bubba,” Jake says calmly. “Did they touch you again?”

Y/N’s eyes are trained downward as she doesn’t dare bring them away from staring at the table. She knows good and well that if Bubba says yes, that the two of us are going to come unglued.

“They didn’t touch me. Tried to, few times but.” Bubba shakes his head furiously from side to side. “They don’t know I’m out here. Geraldine still brings me supplies. I try my best and make myself scarce.”

“What do you mean they tried to?” Jake demands.

“Can’t ya leave it alone, Jacob?”

“Tell me, Bubba!” he raises his voice. “What did they do?” I can see the flame of the candle light flickering in Jake’s eyes, and unfortunately, I know that look all too well. It’s the same one that’s probably in my eyes, right now.

It’s pindrop silent in the room as we anxiously await an answer from Bubba. He’s breathing hard from his flared nostrils, and wringing his wrinkled hands together. He pulls his red handkerchief from his back pocket and pats it along his brow, and I know that if he doesn’t say something soon, I’m gonna jump out of my skin. Hard to tell what Jake would do.

Finally, Bubba looks up from his hands, swallowing hard as his voice is barely audible. “If I tell you boys, you promise not to leave this cabin?”

Taglist: @wetkleenex-gvf @eyelinerjake @farfromthehomelands @sacredstarcatcher @britney-gvf @stardustjake @jakesmustache @starshine-wagner @mweasley19 @emsfallingsky @joopsenthusiast @ageofbajabule @ladywhimsymoon @vanfleeter @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @ageoflou @freefallthoughts @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @literal-dead-leaf @welllauragvf @writingcold @bizzielisteningtogreta @neptune2324 @itsafullmoon @violet-hayes @gvfmarge @demonrat444 @mybussyinchrist @cl0ver-j4de @earthgrlsreasy @what-i-read-home-of-reblogs-mama @mama-likes72 @laurngvf @racheljuneeee @farfromthehomelands @cat3rpillarbaby @cassiesgreta @jarmonicasweat @violet-hayes @ghostly--photography @josh-iamyour-mama @raviolilegs @gvfmarge @milkgemini @jaketlove @watchingover-hypegirl @ageoflou @cl0ver-j4de @takenbythemadness @lightmyloverry

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danielmolloystits · 1 month ago

Text

call that a dinner date (armand/daniel, armand/daniel/f!OC) (1/1)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61802263

Summary:

Valerie shrugs. “I always wanted to try it.” Her eyes flit over Daniel’s face quickly, like she’s performing some sort of mental calculation, before she eventually adds, “You know, getting railed by a stranger. No strings attached. Doing something truly wild for once.” Daniel likes the way her lashes flutter, girlish and pretty. He can’t wait to eat her. “How wild were you thinking you wanted to get?” he asks, his eyes sliding past her to settle on Armand. She turns to follow his gaze, before flushing when she realizes what he’s implying. “Do you mean—” “Ever had a threesome, Valerie?” — Daniel gets dinner for himself and Armand.

Rating: E Pairing: M/M, M/M/F (Armand/Daniel, Armand/Daniel/Original Female Character) WC: ~2.5k

Armand’s hands are cool where they press into Daniel’s sides, his nails scraping quickly-fading lines in the skin of his fledgling’s hips as they dance. Every so often, they toe the line of what’s acceptable in public—Armand clutching at Daniel’s ass or his fingers dipping dangerously low and teasing at his graying pubic hair (and, not for the first time, Daniel wishes he’d had enough warning to trim before Armand turned him). Or, rather, what would be acceptable, in any kind of establishment other than the one that they’re currently in: upper-crust, dark, discreet. The kind of place with private rooms and staff who don’t ask too many questions. The kind of place with a dedicated dungeon. Not Daniel’s usual scene—he’s always liked his sex clubs with a little bit of grime in them, thank you very much—but whatever.

Armand had insisted.

“Lover, you’re distracted,” his maker whispers in his ear, still swaying in time with the music, before sucking the lobe into his mouth and biting down. Despite himself, Daniel gasps. “Am I not entitled to your attention? Am I boring you?”

“Maybe,” Daniel offers, rolling his hips into Armand’s and earning himself a bitten-off growl for his efforts. “Do something worth paying attention to.”

Armand grins at that, sharp and mean; Daniel can feel it pressing into his neck. “You would do well to remember, beloved, that I can set fires with my mind.”

“As if I ever forget.”

“Sometimes I worry you don’t remember enough,” Armand murmurs, and his fingertips singe Daniel’s waist where he holds him, just enough to make the skin sizzle. And Daniel knows he’s a freak pervert, all right, because it makes his cock throb in the black jeans Armand had cajoled him into wearing.

Daniel’s voice is only a little strangled when he says, “You could remind me.”

“Hm.” Armand’s voice lilts in feigned contemplation as his hands wander down to grab at Daniel’s ass again. “Perhaps I could.” He squeezes, then, hard; Daniel writhes into his touch. “But I want you to do something for me first.”

“Oh?”

The pinprick of fangs against Daniel’s neck. “Fetch me dinner.”

Daniel laughs, throaty and full. “Sure, babe. Whatever you want.”

Armand leans his head back to look his fledgling in the eye. His hands, however, don’t move. “Get us someone pretty,” he says, his gaze nothing short of adoring even as his tone is playful.

“Aye, aye, Captain.” Daniel gives him a lazy salute, before slithering out of Armand’s grasp and making his way off of the dance floor and over to the bar.

He spots his target right away: a woman, mid-40s, with curly brown hair all swept to one side. She has tantalizingly full hips that stretch the fabric of the little black dress she’s wearing, her neck long and exposed and utterly bite-able. But that isn’t what attracts Daniel to her (though it certainly doesn’t hurt). No, that would be the stench of impending death that clings to her underneath the warm, spicy aroma of her perfume.

Cancer, aggressive. She probably has two good months before she shrivels into nothing.

When Daniel peers into her mind, he sees that she knows it, too—has known for weeks now. Sees that she’s refusing treatment; evidently, she doesn’t want to prolong the inevitable. She’s made her peace with the prognosis and would rather meet the end on her own terms. It’s why she’s here, in fact: another item on the bucket list to cross off.

Somebody half in love with an easeful death, Daniel thinks, before sidling up next to her. “Can I buy you a drink?” he asks, letting his gaze rake over her figure. Just enough to signal his interest, but not so aggressive as to be creepy. The woman smiles politely, a little bemused. She thinks he’s handsome, Daniel knows, but there’s an element of suspicion there, too. “I thought you were here with him,” she says, nodding over to where Armand is still dancing. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Daniel gives her what he hopes is his most charming look. “Who do you think insisted I come over and talk to you?”

Her smiles grows a little less reluctant. “I suppose a drink couldn’t hurt, then.” She extends a hand for him to shake. “I’m Valerie,” she says. “And you are?”

He accepts the offered hand, grasping her fingers delicately in his own for just a moment too long. Intimate. “Daniel.”

Something like recognition lights up in her eyes. “Daniel, eh?” She tactfully doesn’t comment beyond that, though. “I’ll have a glass of red, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing,” Daniel says, before turning to the bartender to order two cab-savs. Then, even though he already knows the answer, he asks, “So, do you come to these sorts of places often?”

Valerie laughs, a touch bashful. “Hardly. I came here tonight on a lark, really.”

“Oh?” Daniel pays the bartender as he slides the drinks over to them, handing one to Valerie and keeping the other for himself. “And how are you finding it so far?”

“Boring, mostly,” she replies, grinning ruefully into the rim of her glass. “Though it’s gotten better in the past few minutes, I must admit.”

“Happy to help,” Daniel says cheekily, taking a sip of wine that tastes like bland paste. “What made you decide to come out, if this sort of thing isn’t usually your scene?”

“Honestly?” Valerie searches his face for something. She must find it, because she confesses, “I’m dying. Lung cancer, stage IV. No treatment options—they caught it too late.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Daniel tells her, feigning surprise.

She rolls her eyes, and for a brief instant it makes her look decades younger. “God, don’t pity me. I hate that sort of thing.” She sweeps her hair to the other side of her neck, a nervous gesture. A tell. “I just want to make the most of it, you know?”

“So you thought, hey, why not hit up a sex club?”

“Pretty much.”

“I’m not sure that’s where most peoples’ minds would’ve gone,” Daniel remarks dryly.

Daniel likes the way her lashes flutter, girlish and pretty. He can’t wait to eat her. “How wild were you thinking you wanted to get?” he asks, his eyes sliding past her to settle on Armand.

She turns to follow his gaze, before flushing when she realizes what he’s implying. “Do you mean—”

“Ever had a threesome, Valerie?”

“I—” She cuts herself off. Pauses briefly, then says, “No, I haven’t.”

“Would you like to?”

Valerie laughs, like she can’t quite believe this is really happening. “You know what? Yeah, fuck it, why not.”

Armand kisses her on the hand when they walk over to greet him. “Valerie, did you say your name was? You’re stunning.”

“And you’re a flatterer,” she shoots back, smirking. “Rare to see a young man with manners these days.”

“I’m not as young as I look,” Armand says mysteriously; Daniel smothers a snort at the obviousness of it. Then, his maker leans up to whisper, low and seductive, in the woman’s ear: “Though I hope you taste as good as you look.”

“Only one way to find out,” Valerie murmurs. Her cheeks are attractively pink, filled hot and vital with her blood.

Armand smiles flirtatiously and grabs her by the hand, leading her up the stairs towards the private rooms. Despite her illness, Valerie’s pulse is strong under her skin as she follows. Daniel syncs his footsteps to the steady rhythm of her heart, counting each beat with increasing hunger. By the time they make it to their room, he’s already hard in his jeans.

Valerie, however, looks a little nervous as she steps inside, sitting down stiffly at the foot of the bed. She chuckles awkwardly. “I’m not exactly sure what we’re supposed to do now. I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Well,” Armand says smoothly, dropping to his floor in front of her and placing a hand on either of her knees. “I believe we had mentioned something about tasting you.” He glances up at her, and although Daniel can’t see, he can imagine the exact look he’s giving her right now. The one that’s a dead ringer for a fairy tale prince. “If that’s all right with you?”

“Yeah,” Valerie says, already breathless. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Good,” Daniel says, sliding around to settle behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and caging his legs around hers. She startles for a second, before relaxing into the touch and leaning her weight back onto his chest. He hooks his head over her shoulder, to give himself a better view of his maker as he spreads her legs apart.

“You’ll have to forgive me if I take my time,” Armand says, gazing up at Valerie through his lashes. “I’d really rather savor this.” Then, he slides his hands under her dress over her thighs, rucking it up to her hips and exposing the thin, red lace of her panties to the air conditioning.

“Consider yourself forgiven,” Valerie giggles, sounding almost a touch hysterical. In her mind, Daniel can hear her wondering if this is all some sort of impossibly hot dream. It makes him grin into the bare skin of her neck, before he lays an open-mouthed kiss there. At the same time, Armand presses his lips to her inner thigh. “Oh,” she moans, wriggling like she isn’t sure which touch to push into.

Daniel snakes one of his hands up her stomach to palm at her breast, rubbing his thumb over her hardening nipple while Armand works his way inwards, lavishing feather-light kisses to the sensitive flesh of her legs as his fingers skate closer to the center of her, a slow and deliberate creep that makes Valerie squirm in anticipation. Daniel’s nose is filled with the rich, heady scent of her arousal, and with his tongue pressing against her pulse point, he can almost taste the way the endorphins are flooding her blood.

When Armand finally reaches the apex of her thighs, petting the soaked fabric that covers the core of her, Valerie cries out, her hands clutching desperately to Daniel’s arms. “More,” she pleads, attempting to writhe into Armand’s hand.

“You’re lovely when you beg,” Armand murmurs, before acquiescing and pulling her underwear to the side so he can slide his clever fingers where she needs them most. Valerie throws her head back onto Daniel’s shoulder, a shuddery little sigh escaping from between her lips.

She really is lovely—Daniel wants to devour the noises she’s making. When he uses his free hand to turn her face and bring her mouth to his, he’s instantly rewarded with another moan, and it’s exactly as satisfying as he’d hoped it would be, needy and high-pitched like it’s being dragged straight from her throat. He scrapes the nails of his other hand lightly over her breast, his touch teasing, and relishes in the way it makes her shiver against him.

Armand, meanwhile, is rubbing slow and methodical circles around Valerie’s clit, as careful in this as he is in all things. It’s clearly driving her into a frenzy, making her whimper and keen, but Daniel can tell it’s not going to be enough to get her off—that she needs a rougher touch to get there, that she needs a little more contact. So he walks his fingers down her side once more, over her hip, and then buries them in his maker’s hair.

“Here, sweetie, let me help,” he says against Valerie’s mouth, tugging on Armand’s curls until he’s dragged flush against her pelvis, his hand falling away to be replaced with his tongue. “You want to make a mess of him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she gasps, her mouth dropping open in a plaintive whine. “God, yes.”

“Let me know when I hit the spot,” Daniel instructs softly, and then uses his grip on Armand’s hair to begin maneuvering him. Armand obediently goes loose and pliant in his grasp, allowing himself to be manipulated as easily as anything; as Daniel compels him to move his mouth on her, he lets out a groan of his own, the sound of it muffled with him pressed as he is to Valerie’s cunt. Daniel guides him to eat her out harder, faster, until she begins screaming so loud that Daniel has to swallow her cries in another kiss.

“There, fuck, there,” she pants when they break apart again, hips bucking up into Armand’s face. “Fuck, fuck, don’t stop.”

Armand doesn’t—Daniel doesn’t let him—and it isn’t long before she’s twitching and convulsing, caught between the two of them as her climax overtakes her.

The two of them, maker and fledgling, catch each other’s eyes, and no words need to be spoken in order for the directive to be clear. Armand rises, and Daniel uses the hand in his hair to guide him to Valerie’s neck, and then both of them are biting into mirrored carotids and draining the life from this sick, happy woman.

“What are you—” she whispers, delirious and only half-cognizant.

Rest, Daniel projects into her mind, at the same time he’s certain Armand does the same, and she immediately goes limp in their arms as they continue to feed.

By the time she’s nearly empty, dying a peaceful and blissful death, both of them are high on the euphoric chemicals in her blood. As they release her to fall back onto the mattress, they lunge for one another, smearing AB+ all over their mouths in their haste to shove their tongues down each other’s throats.

In mere moments, Armand has straddled Daniel and a hand worked into his jeans, and Daniel has two fistfuls of Armand’s ass, and neither of them is going to last long but they both feel too good to really care about that. They’re like teenagers again, overwhelmed with hormones and feverishly horny, rutting against one another without any grace or finesse.

Afterwards, they’ll have to take care of the body. They’ll have to make sure no one notices anything that they shouldn’t. But for now, the only thing that matters in the world is the two of them, and Valerie, and the sacrament of life that she has gifted them. All that matters is the way affection pours from Armand’s mouth into Daniel’s, from Daniel’s mouth into Armand’s. All that matters is this moment, holy and reverent and eternal. All that matters is them.

#iwtv 2022 #iwtv #my fic #devil's minion #devils minion #armandaniel #armand #the vampire armand #iwtv armand #daniel molloy #armand x daniel

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bellezaycafe · 1 year ago

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Get Your Shit Together - Chapter 5

genre: 2024 Season AU

pairing: Romantic! oc x someone ;) . platonic! oc x literally the whole grid.

warnings: lots swearing, mentions of the accident, stitches, alcohol. mentions of crimes.

context: Dude, if you don't know the context, go read the other parts. Here's the masterlist.

----$----

Five Months Later...

"Are you sure, mate?" Max Fewtrell asked as they stepped into the restaurant.

"Danny said it was the best bet," Lando assured him, shrugging.

"Danny isn't from Melbourne, he's from Perth," Max noted.

"Let's just have dinner, bro. We'll be fine even if we are recognised."

It didn't take long for them to be seated and, as soon as Max realised they weren't going to be waited upon, ordered their meals at the register.

"That's new," Lando commented when they returned to their seats.

"It's a small place," Max replied, observing everyone around them. "The locals seem pretty used to it."

Lando shrugged again and began to talk about upcoming Quadrant content. They had proposed a race with Daniel and Oscar around Melbourne, now that it was the off-season.

"Daniel seemed pretty keen, Oscar -" Lando trailed off.

His mind had gone blank, everything stopped by the memory gripping him.

Her voice.

"Thanks, Damon. Let me know if you need it back," she said to a coworker.

Lando's head snapped up, looking across a staircase to the opposite bar area. There she was, pouring a beer, dark brown hair pulled into a high ponytail and eye crinkled from her smile. She said something to the customer, some old crusty white man and laughed at whatever his response was.

Lando couldn't hear anything Max was saying, couldn't feel him nudge his shoulder.

"It's her," he whispered.

"Love at first sight isn't a thing, Lando," Max joked as he turned around.

"No, dumbass. I- I think it's Sadie." Lando shoved his shoulder.

Max turned back to him, dumbfounded. He had never met Sadie but knew exactly who she was. Throughout his recovery, Lando hadn't shut up about her and what she'd done for him. He'd tried to find her, but two weeks after the accident, she left the UK and no one had been able to find her since.

Lewis had even tried to find her, and was unsuccessful.

"Are you sure, mate? She had a helmet on."

"I just heard her talk. I saw her face at Albert Park. I think- I think it's her."

Her voice echoed in his head; I've got you now.

Keep going, pretty boy.

You're going to be okay.

In the blur of the accident and his trip to hospital, she was what he remembered. Her voice, her reassurance, her warm eyes.

"Mate, you're staring." Max waved a hand in front of Lando's eyes.

"I- Max, I think it's her." Lando repeated.

Their food came, a chicken carbonara from Lando and fish and chips for Max.

"Can I get you anything else?"

Max kicked Lando under the table as he said, "no, thank you," with a smile.

Lando dragged his eyes away from the woman across the room. "Thanks," he muttered.

The older woman smiled, politely said "have a lovely night," and left.

Lando tucked into his food and tried to listen to Max. He couldn't stop glancing, trying to work out if it was Sadie. He needed a closer look at her eyes, her reassuring eyes.

Those deep brown eyes that had said we are okay while she had a piece of his car in her leg.

"Hi there, how's the food?" a server asked. He was tall, and standing between the bar area and their table. His green eyes were watching Lando carefully.

"Great," Max said. "Thank you."

"Actually," Lando said, ignoring another kick from Max. "The barteneder over there, what's her name?"

"Uhh, that is Sadie." The sever said, looking over his shoulder.

Max and Lando shared a look and Lando's hand began to shake. He couldn't place whether it was nerves or anticipation.

"Thank you," Lando murmured, his eyes not leaving Max's face.

The server walked away with a tense smile.

"You sound creepy, you know that right?" Max groaned.

"It's her!" he whisper-yelled.

"You don't know that for sure. Finish your food."

Lando rolled his eyes and stabbed a chip with his fork.

----$----

“Sads.” Damon, tapped her shoulder. “I don’t want to scare you but there’s a guy at a bistro table asking about you. Molly said he’s been looking at you all night.”

Sadie groaned. “Ugh, men. What table?”

“Four.”

She stepped to the side, into and where she could view of table four, and froze.

“What the fuck is he doing here?” She whispered, as if he’d hear her.

Damon pulled her back out of sight. “You know him?”

Shit, she scolded herself. Get yourself out of this one, Sadie.

Sadie hadn’t told anyone from work the real way she had been injured, just that she had been in an accident that weekend.

“Remember how I had to take an extra three weeks off that mid-year annual leave?” she whispered to Damon.

“Yeah, car accident right?”

“Well-“ she drew the word out. “I wasn’t actually in a car. I was hit while trying to get him off the, uh, road.”

Road, not racetrack. Road.

Sadie couldn’t risk Damon figuring out that it had been her in that viral video. The less people that knew, the less people who could tell the media circus where to find her. The less danger she'd be in.

“What?” Damon’s face was scrunched in a frown.

“Ah, it’s hard to explain.” She waved off any further questions. “Can you watch the bar for me? I’m gonna go say hi.”

Damon nodded as Sadie stepped past him, more confidence in her stride than in her heart.

She managed to avoid Lando Norris and his gaze on her way to the kitchen. She thanked Molly, the supervisor, the noticing his behaviour and keeping an eye on him.

That was when she decided to surprise him.

Max Fewtrell, who had sat across from Lando, saw Sadie first.

She shook her head. Let me surprise him, she tried to say.

Max, understanding in his eyes, ignored her.

Lando wore no moonboot or ankle brace. Sadie wondered if the fracture reports were true.

"I see the ankle healed nicely," she quipped. "What about the concussion?"

He spun, almost falling out of his chair, and leapt to his feet. Lando wrapped his arms around Sadie with no hesitation. She was glad the tables nearby were empty.

"Oh shit," he murmured into her ear. "It is you. I was right, it's you."

He'd trapped Sadie's arms by her sides and Max laughed at her awkward attempt to hug Lando back.

He pulled back, but kept his hands on her shoulders, as if she'd vanish if he let go.

Fair enough, she mused silently. I disappeared once, what's to say I won't do it again.

"Mate, what are you doing here?" She asked seriously.

He gestured to the table. "Having dinner, I didn't know you worked here."

"Jesus, of all the coincidences to happen," Sadie muttered under her breath then said a little louder. "I have to get back to work, it was great to see you, mate. I'm glad you've recovered."

"You're tense, why are you tense?" Max observed.

"I want to talk, I want to thank-"

Sadie cut him off. "Not here. My managers don't know exactly how I was injured. No one here does and I'd like to keep it that way."

"No," Lando insisted. "No, you are not disappearing again."

Sadie stopped for a moment, paused to let herself breathe.

"How about this-"

"Last time you said that, we both ended up in hospital," Lando joked with a wide smile.

Sadie returned the humour with a small laugh. She ignored the feeling clutching at her stomach.

"How about this, did you uber or taxi here?

Max nodded as Lando frowned.

"Okay, good. How about I drive you back to where ever it is you're staying and we can talk on the way?"

"And after that?"

Sadie sighed and gave Lando a sad smile. "There can't be an after, mate." She was careful not to use his name, just in case. "It's a long story."

"Will you tell me?" His voice dropped to a volume she didn't know he could use. His head tipped down, eyes boring into hers with too many emotions for Sadie to guess his thoughts.

The sad smile didn't leave her face. "As much as I can, but that isn't a lot. Give me half an hour. It's a quiet night, I'll ask to finish early."

Max reached out and tugged on the back of Lando's shirt.

Let her go, the gesture said. Lando did, releasing her shoulders and shoving his hands into his jeans pockets.

"Okay," he decided, "okay."

Sadie glanced to Max. Thank you, her eyes said.

He smiled gently but Sadie could see the concern in his posture and knew it wasn't concern for her. It was about her.

----$----

Twenty-five minutes later, Sadie grabbed her car keys and pulled her name tag off.

"Thanks again, Katy. I owe you for this."

"No, you don't." the on-duty manager waved a hand. "I was going to let some one go home soon, anyway. Have a good night.

"You too, see you tomorrow!"

Lando, who had struggled to take his eyes off her, noted the conversation and rose.

Max rose with him and put a hand on his shoulder. His back to Sadie, she watched as he whispered something in Lando's ear. Lando nodded with a frown.

"Ready?"

"I'm never ready for anything involving you," Lando quipped.

Sadie couldn't help but snort.

They walked to Sadie's small blue Mitsubishi and she ignored the small glance the boys shared. Damn them and their money.

Lando jumped into the passenger seat before Max could say anything.

"Fuck you, dude," Max joked.

Lando only grinned as he put his seatbelt on.

Sadie didn't smile at their antics. She was too busy considering how to tell them the situation without revealing anything that would put them in danger.

“Here’s the deal.” There was no room for negotiation in her tone. “You can ask questions but I’m only going to tell you want I safely can.”

She glanced at Max in the rear view mirror. He was frowning with suspicion and wariness, which Sadie considered to be a good thing.

“That’s ominous,” Lando noted.

Sadie shrugged and pulled out of the car park. “You’re going to have to navigate as well. The Piastri Family home isn’t public knowledge.”

As Lando pulled out his phone and brought up Google maps, he asked, “why did you stay away?”

“You’re a public figure, so are you, Max. Your lives are full of cameras, videos, articles and media. I can’t be amongst all that.”

"Why not?"

"I'm in a witness protection program."

----$----

hehe, whoops. LORE

Hope you like it!

Taglist (never thought I'd write one of these, I'm very happy to):

@snubug

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #get your shit together #lando norris #f1 x oc #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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this-is-z-art-blog · 1 month ago

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[ID: digital drawing of Danielle Phantom in her human form and Joan, a young woman with pale freckles skin, brown eyes, and short caramel hair. Dani is in her usual outfit with green baindaids on her legs and a yellow kippah. Joan is wearing a maroon jacket, white shirt, torn blue jeans, light yellow sneaks, and a matching kippah, as well as a row of eight golden earrings. Joan is holding a silver lighter and an aerosol canister, tongue stuck out and eye winced shut in concentration as she points them toward a folding table set up in front of the window with a golden Hanukkah menorah and nine teal candles. Danielle is standing a few feet back, looking down a flip phone, and telling Joan “Sam says this ‘doesn’t count’ and ‘might explode’.”]

Happy last night of Hanukkah and Eight Ecto Nights! For the prompt ‘spirit’ I give you shenanigans gals Dani & @jus-a-lil-mouse’s OC Joan demonstrating both a non kosher way to light a menorah and an all around bad plan 💛🕎

#digital art #danny phantom #dp fanart #image description #eight ecto nights 2024 #dani phantom #Dani fenton #Dani masters #Joan #superphantom #een24 day 8: spirit #mouse tag #2025

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starscabaret · 11 months ago

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Yandere OC Profiles

here are some quick basics on all the oc's I will be writing about, feel free to ask anything about them Southern Gothic! Yandere🪲

Full Name: Vincent Lucky Thompson

Gender: Male

Background: Latino/ White

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality: Hetero

Age: 26

Height: 6’6

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Cowboy! Yandere 🐎

Full Name: Lane David Gitre

Gender: Male

Background: White

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality : Hetero

Age: 23

Height: 6’2

Eye Color: Green

Hair Color: Blonde

Military! Yandere 🎖️

Full Name: Aaron Martin

Gender: Male

Background: East Asia

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality : Hetero

Age:23

Height: 6’1

Eye Color: Black

Hair Color: Black

College Athlete! Yandere 🏀

Full Name: Elizabeth Danielle Moore

Gender: Female

Background: White

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality : Lesbian

Age: 21

Height: 6’1

Eye Color: Blue

Hair Color: Blonde

Hood Drug Dealer! Yandere 💸

Full Name: Jaden Derrick Fisher

Gender: Male

Background: Black

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality : Hetero

Age: 21

Height: 6’3

Eye Color: Dark Brown

Hair Color: Dark Brown

Emo! Yandere 🦇

Full Name: James Nicholas Sawyer

Gender: Male

Background: Mixed

Pronouns: he/him

Sexuality : Bisexual

Age: 20

Height: 6’2

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Dyed Black

Graduate Student! Yandere 📚

Full Name: Cynthia Broad

Gender: Female

Background: Mixed

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality : Lesbian

Age: 24

Height: 5’8

Eye Color: Brown

Hair Color: Brown

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homoeroticvillain · 7 months ago

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how geistverse ocs deal with their issues i guess?

geist: masking, masking so hard as much as possible at all times

angie: usually she acknowledges her issues but only to herself and then does nothing about it, but y'know she is self aware at least

adam: romanticizes them, i guess? or at least frames them as just silly things about himself that aren't an issue. he kinda manic pixie dream girls himself

bianca: tries to fix herself through various questionable methods online then catastrophizes when nothing happens after doing it once, picked up a lot of bad habits this way

luci: doesn't think he has any issues 👍

dan: overthinks, looks on reddit about it, feels worse, considers killing himself and/or someone else, decides not to, jerks off, repeat as needed

#geist to themself: i'm the coolest person in this room and no one here knows i have a personality disorder #dan to himself: i need to explode and kill everyone in this room and myself #<- i put dan through so many relationship horrors that he turned out like this #klepto talks to himself #klepto rants about ocs #geist ii [oc]#angel [oc]#lilith [oc]#snow [oc]#<- really need to update their tags to just being their names...#luci [oc]#daniel brown [oc]

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alittlerightalittlewrong · 1 year ago

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Steph: Daniel I have a question for you.

Daniel: Shoot.

Steph: You know how your meta-gene gives you cat-like abilities?

Daniel: Yes?

Steph: So, does that make you a cat boy?

Daniel:

#incorrect dc quotes #incorrect quotes #dc characters #steph brown #stephanie brown #daniel morris (oc)#spolier #spolier dc #batgirl #alley cay (oc)

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chaiiitime · 1 year ago

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It Happened One Summer Night

Summary : A broken car. A sleepy little village. It was a scary feeling to see all the excuses you made to hate each other slowly crumble away. Wild curls. Inked skin. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to let go.

Stranded together off the beaten path, Adriana and Daniel realised it was too easy to give in to the feelings growing between them.

Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x OC!Fem

Warning : Sexual themes, 18+

Chapter 5

“Alrighty, here we are,” Daniel pulled up through the gates Adriana had indicated. “Delivered safe and sound as promised,” he said as he playfully tipped his cap towards her.

“Even though you nearly got us killed back there,” he added cheekily.

Adriana gasped indignantly. “I so did not! Anyway, it wasn’t my fault!”

“Sure, it wasn’t,” Daniel teased back.

They’d left the village late in the morning, the two of them taking turns driving to reach Jerez in time for the rehearsal dinner. And now that they were finally in front of her grandmother’s farmhouse, it truly hit Adriana that her little adventure with Daniel was over.

She needed to get out of the car, go find her mother and Carmen and get ready, but yet, neither she nor Daniel made a move to get out. She wondered if he was feeling the same confusing emotions as her. His right hand was resting on his knee and he was doing that thing with his cuticles. She knew him well enough now to know that this little tick of his meant he wasn’t as unruffled as he appeared.

Say something to him.

She turned towards him, surprised that he was already looking at her. He leaned slightly forward, his breath fanning over her face. His eyes looked more hazel than brown in the afternoon sunlight and they held an intent look that made Adriana shiver. Daniel reached out, his hand clasping hers, his thumb grazing the fluttering pulse at her wrist.

“Daniel, I —“

Just then, Carmen burst out of the house, George following behind “You guys are finally here!” Carmen exclaimed. “We were so worried about you!”

Moment gone, Daniel let go of her hand as they slowly got out of the car and were instantly bombarded with questions from George and Carmen. Adriana stayed mostly quiet, grateful for the way Daniel could pretend to be nonchalant as he dismissed their questions with his usual humour. Then Carmen was leading her into the house and George got into the car to take Daniel to the B&B where the rest of the guests were staying.

For a brief moment, their eyes met and Daniel flashed her a tiny smile, just a little quirk of his lips and the simple familiarity of that gesture felt like a promise for much more to her.

“How was it with Daniel?”

Adriana looked up from where she was wrangling with the steamer, trying to get the creases out of her bridesmaid dress. Carmen was lounging on the bed, already in her pyjamas and a face mask on as she munched on some almonds.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Had Carmen seen the way she kept looking at Daniel all through the welcome dinner?

“I know you don’t exactly like him. So —“ Carmen shrugged, “I was just wondering how you survived the last few days with him.”

Adriana’s hand stilled on the steamer. Should she tell her sister that she’d let Daniel touch her in the most intimate of ways? That she’d let him kiss her till she was breathless? That she’d spent the last few mornings waking up next to him? That she was afraid she might be falling in love with him — if she was not already there?

She cleared her throat, trying to sound casual. “It was alright,” she ducked her head, frowning at one particularly stubborn crease. “He was very nice.”

Carmen hummed, as if she was considering whether to say something or not. “He’s very funny and charming, isn’t he?” She said finally. “I knew you’d get along with him once you gave him a chance.”

Adriana could only nod mutely as she avoided her sister’s eyes. She wanted to ask Carmen how she knew she was in love with George, how she knew George was the one for her. She knew what she felt for Daniel was maybe just infatuation, born out of their forced closeness over the past few days, but she knew she would always regret it if she at least didn’t explore whatever was between them. She’d been dying to go talk to him earlier tonight, but she’d had a million things to do as maid of honour and the only time she’d managed to get away, Daniel had been talking to Toto.

Tomorrow could be her only chance to tell Daniel how she really felt and she was going to make sure she didn’t waste it.

Daniel watched as Adriana escorted an old lady back to her table, smiling as she bent down to patiently listen to whatever the old lady was telling her.

He loved this soft side of her, the one that had a smile for everybody, the one that fiercely loved her family and the one, as Daniel had come to realise, who would do anything to make sure her sister had the perfect day. He also loved the prickly side of her, the one that could be no-nonsense to a fault, the one who always had a sarcastic little quip ready for him. He loved sparring with her. He loved her dry sense of humour. She kept him on his toes. If Blake was here, he would have said that she’d got him by the balls – and he wouldn’t be wrong.

He was quite simply obsessed with her.

From the moment he’d seen Adriana walk down the aisle earlier that day, he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off her. Daniel was pretty sure bridesmaid dresses weren’t meant to be sexy – but the deep-pink number she wore accentuated every single curve of her body. The back — or lack thereof — exposed the smooth golden expanse of her skin and dipped so low Daniel could almost see her dimples of Venus. He itched to reach out and touch her, especially when the knowledge of just how soft her skin was tormented him.

He watched as some guy approached her and said something to make her laugh. He felt a flash of jealousy that he had no business feeling. Adriana deserved more than the casual fling he could offer her. It wasn’t that he was commitment phobic. He came from a pretty stereotypical Italian family and he’d grown up seeing his parents’ love for each other. Most of his mates back home were married with kids now. Of course, he wanted that kind of stable and wholesome life for himself. He’d always thought he’d get ‘round to having a family of his own once his life didn’t revolve around racing as much, but that seemed pretty far off for the time being .

He’d always been selfish when it came to prioritising his career. Maybe even more so now after staring at the possible death of it. When he got the chance to be back in the sport, he’d promised himself he would not let anything take him away from making the most of this second chance. His chance to create his own legacy. His chance to not be just another passing footnote in the history of the sport.

And a relationship was just that — a distraction because a relationship demanded time and effort and compromise. And Daniel couldn’t afford that kind of distraction now, but he was a greedy gluttonous bastard. He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. He wanted to have Adriana without having to change anything about his priorities.

“Hey, man.” Daniel looked up as Lewis sat down next to him. He was pretty sure he and Lewis had already exhausted their quota of conversation topics for the year. They’d already discussed whatever steward decision they’d not been happy with, Lewis’s new tequila venture and Daniel’s merch. They pretty much had nothing left to talk about but it was pretty inevitable that they were back at the same table given how outside of Alex – who was a groomsman – and a few other Mercedes people, they were the only drivers who had been invited for the wedding.

“Why do you look so serious?” Lewis asked as he sipped his drink. His eyes followed Daniel’s line of sight and ended on Adriana. “Oh, I see,” he drawled, hiding an amused grin behind his glass.

“What?” Daniel asked. He took a sip of the champagne they’d served with the wedding cake and winced – champagne only ever tasted good to him when he was drinking it on a podium.

“Come on, man,” Lewis leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs over his knees. “I can’t believe you, of all people, are hesitating to go up to a woman after all the crazy stories I’ve heard about you over the years.”

“Look who’s talking,” Daniel said jokingly, trying to steer Lewis away from talking about him. “I distinctly remember a story about you on a yacht with a certain top model back in 2018, I think it was,” he said, raising his eyebrows almost mockingly.

Lewis stayed quiet, watching as Daniel anxiously twirled the stem of his glass as he furtively sneaked glances at Carmen’s sister. In all the years that Lewis had known him, Daniel had never shown any kind of vulnerability, except maybe for that moment at McLaren. They were Formula One drivers after all, they knew one sign of weakness and all the jackals would pounce – like Lewis did now.

“So, it’s like that, huh?” Lewis said.

“What?” Daniel asked quizzically, his brows furrowed.

Lewis quirked his eyebrows, as if to say you very well know what I mean. He gestured towards where Adriana was standing. “You’re in deep shit, aren’t you?” He said with a laugh. “This isn’t about a fun one night stand kind of thing, is it? This is more like ‘should we sync our Google calendars’ kind of thing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Daniel could feel the hot flush of embarrassment creeping up his neck. He was a bit mad that Lewis had so quickly zeroed in on what was bothering him, especially when Lewis was one of the few that fiercely protected his own space.

“Look, man.” Lewis leaned forward and it reminded Daniel of the time when Lewis had taken him aside before his first race in 2011 to offer his advice. “If you’re interested in the girl, you should go and talk to her. You’re not going to be able to drive that beast car of yours well if your balls are blue and with all this pinning. Trust me, you can’t have anything distract you when you’re in a championship fight.”

Daniel gave a little embarrassed huff but said nothing as he thought over what Lewis had just told him. They both sat in silence as they watched the guy who had been talking to Adriana lead her to the dance floor. Adriana glanced at Daniel over the guy’s shoulder, and Daniel could see the same yearning he felt reflected in her eyes.

“Oh for god’s sake, man! Can you do both of you a favour and go up to her already?!” Lewis nearly shouted.

“Ok, fine!” Daniel pushed his chair back and stood up. He stopped, bending down towards Lewis. “Don’t you dare tell anybody about this, though. Because if you do, I have all the details of your wild days from Jenson and I won’t hesitate to tell Lando about it and you know he isn’t one to keep secrets.”

“I’ll wait for my wedding invite in the post!” Lewis laughed as Daniel turned back to flip him off.

“Mind if I cut in?”

Adriana’s heart knocked against her ribcage as Daniel stood in front of her, looking so handsome and serious in his tuxedo and bowtie.

He didn’t give her time to properly excuse herself as he took her hands and guided her to a quieter and darker part of the dance floor. He laid his hands on her bare back, his warmth branding her skin. The song playing over the speakers was upbeat, but Daniel held her close, swaying her gently to his own rhythm.

“You look very beautiful,” he said quietly.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself,” she quipped.

“What – just not too bad?” He smirked, his dimples popping out. “Come on.”

Adriana laughed, slipping her arms around his neck. “You are looking very handsome, Mr. Ricciardo. In fact –” she looked up at him with a teasing smile, “my aunt Maria was definitely checking your ass out earlier. Maybe you should consider giving her your number.’

“Maybe I will,” his fingers trailed down her spine. “If this girl I’m interested in leaves me hanging.”

“Oh yeah?” Her voice was throaty as she spoke.

“Oh yeah,” Daniel echoed back. “Maybe you know her – she’s been driving me crazy the past few days.”

They’d given up the pretense of dancing now, both of them standing pressed together, their breaths in sync.

“I think I’m done dancing now,” Adriana whispered in his ear.

Daniel looked down at her upturned face, his hands pressing lightly just above the dimples in her back. There was a glint of wickedness in her eyes and Daniel was tempted to kiss her right there and then. Sink his hand into her hair and make a mess of her lipstick.

“If we go now, there’s no coming back. You’re mine all night long,” he said roughly.

“I’m counting on it,” her eyes flashed with heat and Daniel was instantly hard. He guided her out of the wedding tent with his hand on her elbow, trying to not show his desperation to get her out of there.

Once out in the night air, Adriana tugged on his arm. “There’s a gazebo just further out in the garden,” she whispered urgently against his lips.

Daniel stopped her, his hand snaking around her waist. “Hell nah. Our first proper time is not going to be in some fucking gazebo with me looking over my shoulder for people.” He pressed a hard kiss against her lips. “I want you laid out on a bed so that I can take my sweet time with you,” he said as he hustled her towards where he’d parked the rental car.

He pressed her against the passenger door as he fished the car keys out of his pockets. Adriana slipped her hands up into his curls, her nails scratching his scalp as she brought him down for a kiss. Daniel gave in to her seduction, their tongues tangling together as they desperately tried to get closer.

Daniel broke away, his breaths choppy. “Okay, okay. Let’s get out of here,” he said with a groan as he nearly wrenched out the passenger door in his hurry to get her inside. He drove like a madman back to his B&B, his hand pressing into the soft skin of her thighs all the way over.

They tumbled into his room, Adriana instantly seeking him out to pick up where they’d left off against the car. Daniel grabbed her hands, pinning them behind her back in his right grasp as his left hand came up to softly cup her face, his thumb grazing the beauty mark just above her lips.

He bent his head, kissing the base of her throat, feeling the fluttering of her pulse against his lips.

“Let’s take our time, shall we?” He whispered huskily against the curve of her neck. His lips traced a blazing path over her skin before they finally captured hers in a kiss.

The kiss was decadent. Depraved. Drugging. Adriana could taste the champagne on his lips and it made her head spin. She strained against his hold on her — helpless, desperate. “Please, let me touch you,” she moaned against his ear.

Daniel pulled back slightly, his pupils blown wide open as he took in her swollen lips and smeared lipstick. He let go of her hands and watched as she slipped them inside his tuxedo jacket. Her fingers lightly traced the golden studs of his shirt as they crept up towards his neck. She tugged on one end of his bow tie, undoing it as her fingers nimbly opened the top button of his shirt.

Daniel tipped his head back with a groan as her tongue delved into the divot at the base of his throat, tentative and bold at the same time.

“This works both ways, baby,” he said as he recaptured her lips in a kiss. His hands moulded over her hips as he trailed them up her body, cursing as he grappled with the delicate buttons at the back of her neck that held the halter of her dress closed. Adriana took over, undoing them with practised ease. She reached for the zipper that ran on one side of her dress and inched it down. Her dress slithered down her body, falling in a pool at her feet, leaving her standing in front of him in nothing more than her matching deep-pink silk thong and heels.

“Holy fuck.” Daniel walked back, leaning against the bureau as he looked at her. His eyes were heavy-lidded, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he took her in — from the flushed pink of her puffy nipples to the way her hips flared out into generous curves, a few faint stretch marks marring her skin there. He could see where her wetness had darkened the material of her thong and he ached to slip his hand past the material hiding her from view and feel that wetness on his fingers.

Adriana’s nipples tightened in the cool air of the room. She should have felt self-conscious, standing in front of him almost naked while he was still fully dressed, but yet his gaze warmed her all over. Emboldened by the lust in his eyes, she moved towards him, arching her body against his. The rough material of his tuxedo felt downright dirty as it rubbed against her bare body. Tongues tangling, Daniel lifted her up and carried her to the bed, depositing her on it with a soft bounce.

He stepped back and quickly dropped his jacket to the ground. Adriana lifted herself up on her elbows, watching as he efficiently unbuttoned his shirt, unmindful of where the studs fell on the floor. Her breath caught as his hand came to rest on his belt. She licked her lips in anticipation and Daniel gave her a teasing smile.

Those few days spent on the beach had given her the chance to admire his body — the tight lines of his obliques, the graceful sloping curves of his shoulders, the whorls of curling hairs that grew from the centre of his chest to fan out over his pecs. The way his abs could flex and flit in the light, bringing out an interesting play of ripples and indentations, but she’d yet to see that part of him.

She watched in fascination as he tugged his zipper down, pushing his trousers and boxers over his hips and discarding them carelessly to the side. Then he was standing in front of her in all his naked glory.

Of course, he was a beautiful man.

His cock stood out, proud and thick in a thatch of dark hairs, curving almost upwards towards his stomach. She watched as he palmed his dick, his thumb swiping over the smooth purple head. Adriana wanted to feel the weight of his dick in her mouth, inside of her. Wanted to taste the saltiness of the bead of pre-cum on his tip. Wanted to run her tongue on the bulging vein that ran on the underside of his shaft.

His quads bunched and flexed as he got on the bed between her knees, attracting her attention to his tattoos and Adriana got the answer to a question that had been tormenting her — his thigh tattoos did indeed go quite far up.

Daniel quickly undid the clasp of her heels, placing a soft kiss on the arch of each foot. His hands moulded over her calves, his thumbs digging into the soft skin of her thighs as they came to rest at the sensitive juncture of her thighs and hips.

“You know, a few days ago, I wouldn’t have pegged you for one to wear pink underwear,” he said as his fingers trailed along the waistband of her thong.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she sucked in a breath as his fingers dipped lightly inside. “I unfortunately wear very basic underwear in my daily life.”

“Basic or not,” he flashed her his usual wolffish smile, “they look better off your body,” he said as he tugged at the soaked material and stripped it off her body. He then sat back on his knees and took in the wanton image she presented — hair spread out on the pillows, the fading hickey he’d left days before on her right breast and the way her arousal was smeared on the inside of her thighs.

Daniel bent down, his broad shoulders pushing her legs wide open. She was hot and wet and pink where his finger parted her, almost pulsating in anticipation. He placed an open wet kiss right at the centre of her core. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to taste you since that day on the beach,” he said as his tongue licked along the slit, the wet sucking noise of his mouth mixing with her breathy moans.

He looked up at her, taking in her heaving breasts as he pressed two long fingers inside of her, curling them upwards to hit that sweet spot. Her knees closed on instinct, trying to keep his hands there as she rode his fingers.

“No,” Daniel said on a harsh breath. “Let me see,” he said as he pinned her legs open, watching his fingers move in and out of her in satisfaction.

“Daniel, please —“ she moaned. His fingers inside of her felt incredible, but she needed something a bit more. She needed him inside of her. She lifted herself up on one elbow, reaching out to grasp him at the base of his shaft. She gave him a firm and long stroke, Daniel’s head tipping back with a groan as she swiped her thumb over his smooth head. He was hard and heavy in her fist. Warm velvet stretched over steel. He was already thick, her fingers barely wrapping around him but she felt him grow impossibly larger as she stroked him.

Daniel let out a litany of curses. The little minx was going to be the death of him. He pushed her hand away, smearing her juices over his dick with his fingers as he guided himself inside of her, the tip of his cock sliding over her clit. Her wet heat sucked him in, her walls fluttering around him. She felt good. Too damn good.

“Shit, shit,” Daniel withdrew from her as Adriana whined in protest. “Condom,” he said as he got up and stumbled towards his suitcase. He rooted around for the box he always travelled with, depositing it on the bed as he tore a packet open with his teeth.

Adriana thought it was the sexiest sight she’d ever seen. Daniel on his knees on the bed, his tattoos a bright canvas on the bunching muscles of his quads as he slid the condom over his member with adept skill. Then he was moving towards her, wrapping her legs around his waist as he slowly sunk into her, his shaft dragging over her engorged nerves. They both moaned when he was finally fully seated inside of her. He filled her up, the sensation almost bordering on pain as his wide girth almost split her in half.

Daniel rested his forehead against hers, his breaths puffing out against her lips as he tried to get himself under control. Then, he slipped his hands under her hips, tilting her slightly upwards such that with every thrust, his pubic bone rubbed against her clit and his tip hit that sweet spot inside of her.

His body was a live wire, all-tightening sinews as he fucked her in short and fast rhythmic thrusts. He held her body achingly close to his, her breasts crushed against his chest, her nipples rubbing against his chest hairs.

Adriana had thought sex with Daniel would be a light and fun affair. She hadn’t expected him to be this intense and serious. His desire had pulled the planes of his face in stark relief. One of his hands cupped her chin, keeping her mouth open for him as he kissed her, his tongue mimicking the motions of his hips. All the pleasure coalesced at the point where he was spearing into her, the heavy weight of him inside of her becoming the focal point of her world. Her hips gyrated off the bed, undulating to meet each of his thrusts as she desperately sought to draw him even further into the wet clasp of her body.

Daniel groaned, the sound coming deep from his body. Her heat was an all-consuming fire, electrifying him. Their bodies slapped together, slick with sweat. A bead of sweat rolled off his brow, dripping down onto Adriana’s breasts, mixing with her own sweat. Daniel bent down, chasing it with his tongue. He could tell she was close, her nails scratching wildly at his back, her walls clamping down on him.

He shifted her legs higher up on his waist, his hips snapping forward with gathering force. He knew the exact moment the coil inside of her sprung free. Her walls spasmed around him, her hips nearly lifting off the bed as her nails punctured his skin. Daniel swallowed her hoarse moans into his mouth, then he set about chasing his own release. He thrust into her with almost animalistic force, his movements turning erratic as he let go.

He threw his head back, the tendons of his neck straining, his teeth bared in a snarl as he came on a silent growl.

He crashed down on her, his head coming to rest between her breasts. They both laid there, trying to catch their breath as they came down from their high. Daniel slipped out of her, tilting his body to the side and wrapping an arm around her waist to bring her with him.

“This was —“ Daniel started breathlessly. “Wow.”

“I know,” Adriana whispered back, pressing her cheek against his.

Adriana woke up feeling a delicious ache in her body. She smiled as she remembered how Daniel had reached for her in the middle of the night, slipping into her with both of them still half-asleep. Their second time had been tender, Daniel bringing her to a slow orgasm that had felt even more powerful than the first.

She turned around, looking at him. He was lying on his belly, which as she’d found out, was his preferred sleeping position. He was looking at her with sleepy eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Good morning,” he said as his fingers lightly trailed over her arm, tracing the curve of her breasts.

“Morning,” Adriana murmured back. His curls were sticking up on one side, making him look almost adorably boyish. Adriana could only imagine how she looked with her day-old makeup on her face, but that didn’t seem to bother Daniel as he brought her in for a soft kiss.

“I was thinking,” he said between kisses, “I have a few free days before I have to start training for the second half of the season. I was thinking maybe I’ll drive the rental car back to Barcelona.” His roving hands had now slipped to her tits, cupping them in his warm palms. “Maybe stop in little seaside villages along the way.” His thumbs were now caressing her nipples, a small smile appearing on his lips as he felt them pebble against his hands. “What do you say about accompanying me?”

Adriana moaned as she looped her arms around his neck, arching into his touch. “Yes, yes,” she whispered against his lips as she kissed him.

She didn’t want this dream to be over.

#with a little cameo from lewis #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fanfic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo imagine

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callmewrinkles3 · 2 years ago

Text

That’s when - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist

Summary: First part here. It’s been eight weeks since Em left Australia, six weeks since she got on her train to Liverpool. But when her closest friends pool their resources to locate her she finds herself back where everything started, just four years later.

Word Count: 11.7k

Warnings: mentions of pet death (not Em or Dans!), emotionally/mentally abusive families, angst, mentions of potential cheating, Zak Brown (he counts), mentions of fatal crashes.

A/N: It’s heeeere! Thank you so much for the wonderful reception this fic has gotten, and we hope part two is everything you’ve been waiting for. This most definitely isn’t the end of Dan and Em’s story, we’ve so much more to write about.

May 2022

The worst pain that Emma thought she’d ever felt in her life was when she was six years old. She was barefoot on freshly cleaned floors, running around her parents house playing an imaginary game when she slipped and fell right into the doorframe. She remembered her yells for her parents, her baby toe pointing out to the side and turning purple almost before her very eyes. The joint still ached if the weather changed quickly.

Not even the lack of sympathy from her dad had hurt more than the pain when he found her sobbing on the floor of the hallway. Not the doctor at Alder Hey giving her an injection into the aching joint that didn’t fully numb her before yanking it into place. Nothing in her life had ever hurt as much as right then, and she didn’t think anything ever could.

At least, not until she’d left London for good and arrived back in Liverpool.

She’d built up a routine in the five and a half weeks since she’d gotten on the train. The traditional grey British skies helped too. There hadn’t been a single day of sun since she’d arrived, the weather echoing her mindset as she stared out her bedroom window to the housing estate. It was miserable and cold and near constant rain. It matched her mood, no respite from the constant exhaustion and nausea she’d been dealing with since she arrived making her not want to eat anything. She could hear Michael in the back of her head, telling her to just eat a bloody protein bar when she was stressed and had forgotten to eat. But Michael probably hated her. He’d said in his texts that he wanted to find her once, and she’d read them and stared at the screen. She’d nearly written back, not realising he was online and watched as he asked her for details but she ignored it. He couldn’t have meant it. She was the one who left them.

The rain also helped when she followed her routine to go get her coffee at 11.25 - after the boxing classes she went to but hated because the instructors weren’t Michael, but before she started job hunting - because it meant she could keep her coat on. She didn’t have to see the delicate number 3 tattooed on her wrist. That was a blessing. She kept the same routine every day, the only variations if she needed to stop somewhere or do something. There was a day she had to go to the job centre, the day she thought she needed the chemist but it turned out she didn’t need to. It was easier this way.

Em felt like Bella in New Moon, time passing by her rather than her moving with it. The grey skies and constant routine didn’t really help in that regard if she was honest. Everything felt like she was going in slow motion. Without the sun she could keep her mind focused, keep herself away from the memories that were so happy they made her want to sob. Michael forcing her to stand and stretch and go for a walk through the paddock because she’d been head down working in the one awkward position all day. Blake pulling her tablet away from her when they were on the deck at the farm during lockdown and she was making a colour coded calendar of sponsor videos that needed to be filmed and published. But more than that it reminded her of Daniel.

Sunny days made her think of his wide grin and the dimples that had captivated her from the very first night they met. The way he laughed when she made a stupid joke that yeah, the sun stopped the earth from freezing but his smile did the same to her heart. It made her think of summer Christmas in Perth, barbecues and no turkey in sight as she chased the kids around the garden before getting pulled into a paddling pool. Of the sun ring she’d given him. Of her matching moon one that she’d left behind and how much she missed it.

Sunny days reminded her of Daniel, but more than that they reminded her of everything that she’d given up and how maybe she’d gotten things so incredibly wrong. That she’d lost her Australian family. She’d given up her brothers and her sister and her nibbling and the parental figures who cared about her. Grace kept asking to FaceTime and Em sent one word responses back, unable to ignore her. She could pretend to ignore everyone else, but never Grace. Those sunny days meant her family and now she was alone and she was dreading summer.

Her parents weren’t helping either. As soon as she got on the train she knew that Liverpool was the wrong place for her to go to sweep up her heart. Staying with her parents was so definitely wrong, and she shouldn’t have been surprised by how badly it was going. Instead of asking how she was, if she needed anything, even if she was ok, all they wanted to know about was the rumours. About if she was sleeping with Michael, Blake, and Dan. If the photo of Lance hugging her from when he made his pole in 2020 was another “man she’d slept with”. Because, of course, none of them would like her for who she was. It had to be something else.

She was at the kitchen table for breakfast when she finally responded, siting there nibbling on a piece of buttered toast with a cup of badly made tea.

“You need to tell us if there’s going to be a scandal, Emma. We need to be prepared. Were you sleeping with them?” Her mother asked as the cramps low in her abdomen made Em want to get sick from fear and anger and loss.

“Blake and Michael were like my brothers. Daniel was my best friend. They couldn’t keep me employed any longer and we decided a break from our friendship would be good for a while. That’s it.”

She couldn’t go into the details of what had happened or it would all blow up in her face and that was the last thing she wanted. She couldn’t tell them that she was in love and now was utterly heartbroken. If she went into the details of how heartbroken she was Em would break right then and there. The last thing she needed was for her parents to judge her on the baseless rumours. If she cried in front of them she’d never hear the end of it, and she couldn’t admit that she’d lost the best friends she’d ever have and the man who was the love of her life. That she’d be followed around by Dan’s face every time she moved because it was Daniel Ricciardo.

That was why Em spent so much time in her childhood bedroom. It was the only place in the house that didn’t scream reminders of the life she’d left behind, that didn’t immediately make her think of Dan. Everywhere downstairs was filled with the memory of when Michael had been there once on the way home from a Liverpool match. But the bedroom that still had Westlife and Spice Girls posters on the walls - the latter quickly pulled down to get Geri Horner’s face away from her - was the best place to hide. If she had her way she would never bring Dan to the house, he’d never even go near Liverpool as a city. She wanted to keep him safe from the ghosts that haunted her past, and more importantly she wanted him safe from her parents.

Daniel was everything that they would never want her to have in a boyfriend. He was a man with too many tattoos, who hadn’t finished school let alone gone to university, who she’d basically been in a relationship with for four years. A man who travelled the world and wasn’t going to settle down any time soon, who drove fast cars at dizzying speeds. They’d call him reckless and feckless and judge him on sight, not caring what Emma saw in him.

They wouldn’t listen to her tell them that he was the person who made her laugh until tears of joy fell from her eyes and her stomach hurt from laughter. They wouldn’t know that before every race she kissed his helmet and told him to go fast. They’d have no interest that he was the most caring man she’d ever met, that he’d spent the last four years trying to make sure that she was happy and safe and looked after.

All they cared about were things that were unimportant to Em right now. A ring on her finger, two point five grandkids, a house in the suburbs and a steady office job. Not apartments in different countries and tax residencies, not having friends around the world. Not having racing be such a huge part of their lives.

Her parents didn’t care that she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone else in the world, that she would always love him more than anyone else. They didn’t care that he was bigger than her whole sky. She always said that he was her sunshine, but he was so much more than that.

He was her whole world. But she’d had to learn the hard way that she wasn’t his and that knowledge and understanding still ached in her chest. If Dan loved her he wouldn’t have sent her away alone in Saudi. He would have gone back to the room to check on her, even knocked on the door to let her know he was safe. He would have put an arm around her waist and asked “are you ready to leave, love” at the party in Melbourne because that was their code for him wanting to leave. He would have kissed her forehead in bed that night, he would have hugged her.

He wouldn’t have said what he said. The Daniel that she loved, the one that she thought was in love with her, wouldn’t have said that he was done with her. He wouldn’t have said that he was done with them. He wouldn’t have left. The Daniel that she thought loved her for four beautiful years would have spent every minute that they were together in Melbourne trying to convince her to change her plans and come to Perth after the race because he didn’t need to be in London. He would have roped the kids into convincing her to come stay with them and spend time with them. The Daniel that she loved would have never let her go like that.

The worst part was Em knew that she wasn’t blameless. She could have said something, should have said something. After Christmas when things felt oh so wrong she should have spoken up then. On their trip to Sicily when it felt like they were papering over the cracks with sex and food and selfies. When they’d been talking about finding an apartment for them in London but the conversation stopped. She should have said anything. But she was so afraid of things being broken that she hadn’t realised that there was a fundamental break in their relationship that could never be repaired. Because Dan didn’t love her like she loved him.

That’s what she repeated to herself. It played on a loop in the back of her mind every waking minute of every single day since that warm April evening that she stepped on the first plane out of Melbourne. Every single hour of the seven and a half weeks since she’d seen him she kept telling herself that it wasn’t real. She’d fallen so deeply in love with Daniel and wanted him to love her the same way she loved him, so she convinced herself that he loved her. But he didn’t. Not like that. She had to come to terms with the fact that every time he said “I love you” to her it was platonic. The “Emmy”, the “Baby Girl”, the “y’know, right” was all platonic. He was the Morgan to her Garcia the exact same way it was when they watched Criminal minds on quiet flights, except she had fallen so deeply for him. She was making it up and got everything mixed up in her head. That was all it was, a big misunderstanding.

Thinking that way hurt her so much less than the other thoughts that filtered through her head. The ones like Dan was bored of her. He was sick and tired of having her around. He picked the fight because he wanted her to leave. That he’d met the blonde from the photo in Miami before and that��s why everything stopped. He’d found a woman who looked the way the media said a Formula One driver’s WAG should look, so Dan wanted to get rid of her.

It was so much easier than the “I told you so” she’d heard as soon as her dad saw her again. Better than the judging faces she saw when she came out of her room wearing the cardigan Charles had bought her for Christmas. She hadn’t mentioned where she even got it, it wasn’t worth the “stop lying, Emma. We all know you were just an assistant”. It was easier to be quiet than deal with the shocked expressions on faces when she actually appeared at the anniversary party, her press smile firmly on her face and her aunts and uncles judging her. One of her uncles mentioned that it was too safe and she wanted to scream that she was in Spa that awful day three years ago, that it wasn’t safe and she’d seen boys who were too young hold burdens they shouldn’t have to carry. Some of her younger cousins asked questions about if she’d ever met a driver and she wanted to laugh.

She wanted to tell them the story of meeting a barely twenty year old Max Verstappen, gangly and growing into himself, who’d smiled and shaken her hand. Of Charles helping her with her French and Italian in return for being treated not like il predestinato, but like a normal human. Of being one of the privileged ones to get to pet Roscoe and Coco Hamilton and feed them treats, giving Lewis a card when Coco died. Of Esteban and Lance and Mick treating her like a big sister. Of Hanna Vettel handing over one of her kids for a brief minute just inside the Aston garage while Em was talking to Chloe because she was Em and she was always there and she was trusted and liked. That she’d lived and breathed that world for a solid four years, and she’d lost her family and friends leaving it behind.

But she couldn’t. None of them would believe her even if she told the stories and showed the photos she had. None of them counted on her, they thought her flighty. Her leaving her job without a safety net was of course something that Emma would do. She’d moved to London in her teens and had essentially run off, coming home for Christmas and funerals and that was it. She was the one who’d built a life away from them, a life that her parents constantly talked badly about her “gallivanting around the world”. But now it was over and she had to make her peace with that. She’d walked away from everything she’d had, lost everyone she’d loved.

At least she thought she had.

Every single time the doorbell rang, Em ignored it. There was no way it could be for her, so why would she go to get it? Her debit cards remained unused in her purse, and nobody knew she was there. Nobody had any idea that she might even be there. The rare moments that she spent in the living room staring out the window reminded her of that.

“Nobody’s coming, Emma.”

It was the refrain her father said when she didn’t realise what she was doing. He didn’t just mean Dan. There was nobody else in her life coming to see her. Michael and Blake were probably too mad that she’d left her work behind to see her. Chloe and Scotty had enough going on that they might not have even noticed her disappearance. Her father was right, but she didn’t want to hear it. So instead she ignored the knocks and doorbell ringing, ignored the raised voices from downstairs. Her dad was doing his usual being annoyed at a delivery driver for being there and Em went to roll over on her bed to mute the noise. But then she heard it, clear as a bell.

“Wiggle!”

Each of the boys had given her a nickname in the four years they’d spent together. Emma had become Emmy from Dan, and Wrinkles after the first night they met. Blake called her Ems, or after her rant about how Tim Tams were basically the same as penguin bars she became Tim Tam. Or Timothy. Or Tamothy. Or whatever variation of the bars he could come up with in the moment. Michael was the most creative. She was Em to him, but after he walked into her dancing around to Speak Now he started calling her Wiggle when he compared her awful dancing to the kids show. It was their thing.

She went from having no nicknames for most of her life to having more than she could count. It was ridiculous and she joked that it was the result of spending too much time with Australians. But she loved it. It was one of the things that made her feel oh so loved. And there was no greater feeling than the one spreading through her when she recognised Michael’s voice calling her from downstairs thanks to the stupid nickname.

Em wanted a clean break from them all. She left everyone thinking it was the best thing for her to do, that the people she loved could move on without her around. But the second she heard his voice again she stumbled out of the bed and ran to the top of the stairs.

“Sir, I know she’s here. I know Em is here and I’m not leaving until I talk to her.”

“There’s nobody called Em or Wiggle here, I’m not sure what you mean.”

When she got to the top of the stairs Michael said her name again, and the moment she saw him a tiny “Michael”” burst from her, the tears in her eyes making everything blurry. Michael Italiano had found her and he was at her parents front door, arguing with her dad to stop him from closing it in his face. He was there.

Her big brother was right there and she didn’t know how he’d found her but he had. Em couldn’t tell you how she got down the stairs, tears spilling as she pushed through to Michael standing there. She didn’t stop moving until his arms wrapped around her, holding her tightly against him.

All she wanted to do was ask how the hell he’d figured out where she was but she couldn’t. How had he found her in the very last place she ever wanted to be? Between her near uncontrollable sobs and the knot in her throat all she could do was rest her head against his chest and hold him tightly. It was Michael. She could feel him and smell his usual deodorant and he was right there with her. It felt like a dream but it wasn’t. He was there. She could tell by the way that Michael was holding her and the way he kept pressing kisses to the top of her head that it was real. He was there.

“I told you I was gonna find you, Wiggle,” he whispered against her hair. It was barely loud enough for her to hear it, a warning that her parents were still close enough to listen. “Can we talk?”

She didn’t want to let him go. Letting go of him meant that he could disappear, he could leave. She’d take her hands away and he’d be satisfied that she was alive and could go without a word and she couldn’t take it. He was right there.

Em nodded into his chest, looking up and beginning to loosen her arms but Mike knew her so well and kept one of his around her shoulder, pushing another kiss to the top of her head. The last time she’d hugged someone was eight weeks before in the hotel lobby in Melbourne, holding onto Isaac and Isabella before having to let them go and Joe wrapping an arm around her. She hadn’t touched another human since then. After almost four years with her boys and their families hugs and human touch were common and she craved it. Before now she hated it, but they’d converted her to it. She was so touch deprived that actually being held by someone nearly hurt.

If she couldn’t have Daniel there with her, if she couldn’t have the one she really wanted, at least this way she got to have one of her brothers there with her. Michael didn’t let go, keeping a hold of her as she led him up the stairs. They both ignored her parents questions as they made it into her room and sat down, Em leaning against his chest for another cuddle. They were perched on the edge of the single bed as Em took deep breaths, waiting for him to speak first.

“You don’t know how many people miss you, Wiggle. I missed you so, so much. Come home?”

“I can’t.” It was hard to say so casually but she did it, watching as his face fell in shock. “I appreciate that you’re here but I can’t come back. I’ve nowhere to live, I can’t. I can’t come back to London.”

“If you wont come back, at least let me FaceTime Blake? I had to fight him to stop him getting into the car with me, part of me thinks he might be in the boot. Let him see you and know you’re ok at least?”

“Ok.” She could do that. Michael kept his arm around her while he opened his phone, Em spotting the photo of the two of them walking through a paddock together as his Lock Screen. It barely rang before Blake picked up, hair unusually askew.

“Mate did you find her? Was Chloe right? Is she ok?”

“Hey Blakey.” Em smiled through her tears, watching the shock on his face as he realised she was there. His hands reached out to the screen as if to touch her face.

“TImmy, you ok?” She nodded, unable to speak while swallowing back a sob at seeing him again. “You scared us, you know that? We miss you so, so much. I can’t wait to see you.”

“I’m not coming back. Thanks for being caring, but I can’t. I need to be away. I can’t see him again.”

“Just come home,” Blake pleaded, barely taking a breath before continuing. “Emma, please. Please just come home to us. I need my sister home with me. Nobody needs to choose between anyone, TimTam. But we need you home.”

She wanted to say no. She wanted to tell Michael to leave, to let her stay in London and try to find her new normal. But she’d left to make life easier on them and it clearly wasn’t. She could go back with them and find a new life with them all still there. And that felt right to her. She could deal with Dan on the periphery of her life rather than in the centre.

“I don’t have anywhere to stay.”

“My spare room.” Em turned to look at Mike, a grin spreading across his face. “You can stay in my spare room, it’s your room now. You’re coming home with me.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah. I’ll come home.”

“Blake, I’ll text you when we’re in London. Gonna get our girl packed up and ready to go.”

It didn’t take long for her to pack, Michael making her stay sitting as she directed him to where everything was. She hadn’t even unpacked her things fully, just pulled out what she needed as she did. But the two cases were packed, Michael had gotten her chargers together, and he brought them downstairs as Em followed behind him.

“Where are you going, Emma?” Her mother asked, watching the way Michael kept his hand on Em’s back.

“Back to London. I shouldn’t have left.”

“We never wanted you to go, everyone’s just glad you’re coming back. Chloe knows I’m here, trying to convince her not to fly over has been tough.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. She was about to tell Lawrence what happened so he’d get involved in finding you. Lance really misses you. They’re the only ones who know everything, we told everyone else you’ve family stuff happening. Well, Seb, Este and Mick might have an idea from Lance. Natalie and Ted said to say hi and to look after yourself. Charles kept asking when he thought you’d be back.”

Em could feel her parents eyes flicking between them as he spoke, taking in the names.

“Who are you talking about?” Her dad asked, Michael squeezing her hand for a moment as if to ask if he could reveal everything. Em squeezed back hard, watching as he was let off the leash.

“Em’s friends in the paddock. Chloe Stroll, her dad Lawrence owns Aston Martin and her brother, Lance, is one of the drivers. Sebastian Vettel, Esteban Ocon, and Mick Schumacher are Lance’s teammate and best friends. They all helped Em when she learned French and I think Seb helped a bit with Italian. And then Natalie and Ted are Natalie Pinkham and Ted Kravitz from Sky Sports. And of course the last is Charles LeClerc. He got you that sweater, right?” Em looked down at the one he’d gotten her the year before, fingering the soft wool.

“Yeah he did. I told him I owed him for the Italian and French lessons and he told me he owed me for the English ones and got me this. I’ve missed them all.”

“They’ll be happy to see you in Monaco. We’ve got to get going to get back to London.”

“I hope this isn’t another mistake.” Em nearly stopped as her mother commented, but instead she just looked at her.

“It’s not. This is the right thing for me.”

“Let us know if there’s going to be another scandal. We need to get ahead if there is.”

Em turned and left, not dignifying it with a response. Michael was the one who got her suitcases into his car, opening the passenger door and watching as she settled in. It didn’t take long to get on the motorway, Michael pulling into a services about halfway through the drive.

“What do you want with your coffee?” He asked, Em shaking her head.

“A caramel latte is fine. I don’t need anything.”

“Did you have breakfast?” She shook her head. “You need fuel, Wiggle.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“A chocolate muffin?”

“Maybe.”

She sipped her coffee and picked at the muffin, barely eating any of it. But finally they were getting closer and closer to London, the motorway getting busier with people leaving the city after work. She was terrified and excited at the same time, completely unsure if this was the right thing to do. They’d said they wanted her back. They wanted to see her. People were asking about her. But really would she be wanted there?

Her phone lit up with an incoming call from Grace, Em sending it to voicemail. She couldn’t.

“Who was that?” Michael asked, Em taking a sip of coffee before speaking.

“Grace. I still texted her. She kept asking how I was and saying she was worried and I couldn’t cut her off. I was trying to do it slowly. It’s easier when she’s the other side of the world.”

Michael reached over to squeeze her hand, Em squeezing back.

“We’re home.” She looked around the familiar car park, panic starting to hit her chest. Michael recognised it in a moment, a hand on her shoulder. “I’m right here, Ems. Right here. Blake’s in the apartment because he couldn’t wait to see you. Are you ready for that?”

“Yeah.” No. She wasn’t nearly ready but she had to. She had to see him and apologise for leaving him lost with work.

Again Michael insisted on carrying her cases, the two of them arriving in together. He opened the front door to let Em through and she saw Blake the moment she stepped into the living room. He stood up, opening his arms and Em walked straight into them and clung to him again.

“God I missed you. So, so much. I didn’t think I’d get to hug you again.” Blake’s words made Em want to crack, her sobs coming out so quickly.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You’re back, that’s all that matters TimTam. You’re home and we’ve got you.”

The afternoon passed quicker than Em expected, the three of them splitting takeout that she barely ate. They boys glanced at her, and she knew she didn’t look great, but she couldn’t stomach anything.

“I added you to the flight reservation for tomorrow, Ems,” Blake said and her head shot up, staring at him.

“What reservation?”

“To Nice. Monaco’s this weekend.”

“I can’t.” Cold fear caught around her stomach. Monaco was the beginning of everything. “You don’t understand, Monaco is-“

“Where everything started. Dan told us.” She looked at Michael, at the first mention of Dan he’d made. “Em the two of you need closure. Say goodbye to him in person. I’ll bring him to our hotel to do it so he’ll leave when you need him to. But you need this.”

“I don’t know if I can walk away again.” The words were choked, yet more tears flowing. She didn’t know she had anymore tears left to cry. “It was so hard the last time. I don’t think I can again.”

“He’ll be the one leaving this time. But you need it. Plus, Chloe and Scotty will be there. I put it in the group chat we found you and Chloe’s insisting. If it wasn’t Monaco she’d be here already.”

“Group chat?”

She listened in stunned silence as they filled her in on everything that happened since she’d left. Chloe’s flight to London, leaving her in laws behind, so she could try find Em. The gossip instagram sightings of her that had been used to find her. The way people kept asking about her. Brown wanting to cancel her paddock pass.

“It’s still active?” It was the one thing she was stuck on.

“Dan wouldn’t let them cancel it. He insisted that you needed it. He kept hoping you’d turn up one weekend.”

“I’ll come to Monaco with you.”

That night she lay in bed, staring at the wall. She was home. She’d get to see Chloe tomorrow, and nobody was mad at her. They all missed her and wished she’d talked to them, but they weren’t mad. She was going to get to say goodbye to Dan for a final time and then come home and start building her life up. She could do it.

Her phone rang and without thinking she answered in her half asleep haze, realising too late that it was Grace calling.

“Hello? Grace?” There was silence on the line, Em leaving it for a moment. “Are you there?”

With no answer she hung up, switching her phone off. She didn’t need this. She didn’t need to mourn anymore, not when she had a hard few days ahead of her because Monaco was the place where everything had begun and where it would end for good.

Dan stared at the track map in front of him, his finger tracing the oh too familiar streets of Monaco. He knew every single round of the track. Every single place he’d need to turn, he’d driven them the day before when he got back from Barcelona. When he came back to this apartment that reminded him of Emmy and cried sitting on the couch and spotting her shoes by the tv. When he sprayed her perfume on the pillow next to his because it helped him get a little bit more sleep.

He wasn’t ok. He knew that now. He knew he had monumentally fucked up and ruined the best relationship of his life because he never opened his mouth. He had flights booked to go home and tell everyone that Em was gone and he was dreading it. Having to tell his parents she’d left him, telling Michelle and Adam that she was gone. Telling the kids how much their auntie Emmy loved them but Dan had fucked it all up on them so she couldn’t come back again.

His heart was completely broken. The one week between races meant he didn’t have to go to England, could avoid the apartments in London. His empty one and her former one he was paying rent on. Instead Dan focused on the next weekend. He ran through the circuit on the sim again and again until he was driving it as perfectly as he could but his lap times were still too high. He ate and worked out and used the sim and showered and slept and that was all he did. Focusing on anything else was too much.

Blake and Michael were still in London. They were getting in on Wednesday but not seeing him till Thursday, two days from then. And that was barely hanging on by a thread. Every morning Dan half expected Michael’s resignation letter. Blake hadn’t said anything yet, but it was coming. He knew his manager too well. The explosion and anger were going to happen and it was going to be deserved.

When Dan was feeling especially masochistic he dug down in his backpack and opened the green leather box hidden in a bottom pocket. Nestled in the black satin was a thin gold ring with a tiny diamond in it. Em deserved more, deserved a huge ring. But she’d never wear it. She always preferred dainty jewellery, made comments about how big stones were destined to fall out. He picked it out for her style, not his. He should leave it in a drawer or sell it but he couldn’t. It meant giving up on her, and he didn’t know if he ever could.

“Dan? Em? Are you home?” His head shot up as his hand dropped the ring into his bag. No. He knew that voice and she should be seven timezones away from him right now. Not walking into his apartment.

“Danny? You here?” His mum and dad walked into the kitchen to see him, both of their faces brightening at seeing him there before taking in the expression on his face, the tears he’d let out thinking he was alone. “We thought we’d surprise you for Monaco. Where’s Em? Is she gone out?”

His throat went dry as he swallowed, watching the two of them taking in the scene. The lack of anyone else’s belongings. Her baby blue suitcase not there.

“Danny? What’s wrong?” He hadn’t heard his mum like that since he was a teenager and scared to move to Italy.

“I…uh…I have flights to come home next week to tell you.” He swallowed desperately, unable to make himself say the words for a moment. He hadn’t said it out loud. “Em…I…Emmy left me. She’s gone. She’s gone for good and she’s not coming back and it’s all my fault.”

He could see the moment they hit his parents, the way they nearly rocked back. The devastation on his mother’s face, the shock and dismay on his father’s.

“But you were going to propose?” Dan huffed a bitter laugh at his dad’s words, putting the ring box on the table where they could both see. “What happened?”

“I fucked up, Dad. I…I did something I never should have. I said things I shouldn’t have said. So she’s gone and she isn’t going to come back. I don’t even blame her, she was right to. I never even called her my girlfriend to her face.” They both sat and looked at him as Dan ranted, letting it out to the two people who he thought would still love him after he revealed everything. “She made me promise her not to leave her alone and then I not only did it, but I sent her away. And we fought in Melbourne. I told her I was done. She resigned when she was flying home from Australia. I haven’t seen her since the hotel and there was a letter in Blake’s and my stuff and she moved and she’s gone. I chased her away. She’s sorry for hurting everyone but I made her leave. I made her go. She’s never coming back.”

He watched his mum pull out her phone and hit a speed dial, putting it on speaker. It rang once, twice, three times, and then hit voicemail. “Hey, this is Em. If this is business related send an email. If not, leave a message after the beep.”

“Dan…” His mother wrapped him in a hug and Dan sobbed in her arms, everything hitting him now he’d said it out loud. Em was gone. His Emmy wasn’t his and she was never coming back. It had been nearly eight weeks since he’d gotten to even see her, it was nearly three months since they’d shared a bed. Not since the night before going to Saudi. She wasn’t going to run her fingers through his hair anymore. She wasn’t going to cup his cheek and kiss him, fall asleep with her arm over his chest. Curl up on his lap on a plane while he talked to the guys and she napped.

He’d never see her in the paddock again. Never get that jealousy when he saw her talking in French with Charles or Lance, never see her hug Chloe before they went to their own garages. Never watch her talk to Mick and tell him to keep his head up, that she was proud of him.

He was never going to get to have a child who looked like her. One with her hair and eyes and nose. One who looked like him but with her personality. Never put the ring on her finger. Never ask her to please let him be her husband because he didn’t care about the rest of it, he wanted her.

The list of things he would never do again felt sickeningly long. He’d forget how it felt to kiss her. How it felt when she woke up from a nap in his arms and smiled up at him. When they were in Sicily and ate food and he showed her where his great Nonna had lived, a house no longer occupied by Ricciardos but where his dad had carved his name into drying cement. The way she looked at him like he was her world. The way she said “I love you”.

He was going to forget all of it in time. He’d never forget Em, never forget how she had changed his life and ruined him for any other woman, but he’d forget the details. He kept opening his messages praying for something from her but nothing. He was never going to get another one from her.

“You were going to propose.” Joe was caught on that detail, opening the box and looking at the ring he’d bought. “You had the ring, you asked me how I knew. How did…how did it happen?”

“I told her I was done.” It slipped out with another tear, Dan pushing his fist to his mouth. He’d replayed those sentences over and over and over in his head. “If that’s what you want, I’m fucking gone. I’m done here, I’m gone” Em’s face falling as he turned to slam the door. The way that if he’d taken even a second he’d have realised she knew him so well she pushed his buttons deliberately. He’d have known. He wouldn’t have left. He didn’t even kiss her goodbye.

“I can’t believe..you…I…” Joe burst into angry ranting and Dan half ignored it, feeling his mother stiffen at his back.

“Did you really say that to her?” Grace was quiet, and the quiet disappointment was worse than anything else. Italian mothers knew Catholic guilt, and at his heart he wanted to be a good son.

“Yeah. She told me to leave, that I’d been leaving her behind the whole weekend and I should go. So I told her if that was what she wanted I was gone. I was done. And then she went downstairs and said goodbye and I swear she planned it. She knew what she was doing. The resignation email was already queued. She knew she was leaving and I encouraged her.”

“The presents…” he could hear the realisation in his mother’s tone.

“I have to tell the kids she loves them so much but she can’t see them anymore and she wishes she could be their auntie. It’s why I’m going home next week so I can tell everyone. I just want her back, Mama. I don’t know how to do anything without her. She’s my life.”

His mother sat opposite him, pulling Dan’s face up and wiping his eyes. He stared into that identical face, the same nose and curls he’d inherited.

“You can’t fix this, Danny. If she’s gone she’s gone. But if she saw you like this? You’re too thin, have you eaten?” He shook his head. “If she saw you like this she’d blame herself and you don’t want Emmy to do that, do you?”

“No.”

Exactly. So you’re going to put that away and we’re going to make dinner. You have media tomorrow and you need to get yourself ready for it. Understood?”

“Yes, Mama.” She pulled him into a hug.

“We’ll talk more when you’re ready for it. I bet Michael already told you just how angry he is?” Dan nodded. “I thought so. I’m so disappointed in you. You called her your girlfriend, you were going to ask her to marry you but you never told her that you’re dating?”

“I thought she knew!”

“You always say it. Did you even have an anniversary?”

“Monaco. It’d be four years on Friday.” Grace peeled back through the memories, shaking her head.

“I…that makes sense. You need to get ready for tomorrow. Go shower and change, and I’ll have food ready when you’re out.”

“Thank you.”

He ignored the quiet disagreement he could hear between his parents as he left the room. He just felt hollow, and when he got into the shower and caught sight of Em’s fancy custom shampoo his tears fell almost as hard as the water from the shower head.

—

Being in a hotel in Monaco felt too much like four years before and it was suffocating for Em. She shared the room with Michael, and the day before Chloe had appeared at the hotel room door, wrapping Em in a hug and pulling her to sit and talk. It was awkward and painful and part of the mistakes she’d made were full force in front of her, but it was also like she’d never been away. Having her best friend there as they people watched out the window and Chloe filled her in on the gossip she’d missed in the last few months.

But it was Thursday and she was on a mission. Michael had agreed to bring Dan to the hotel that afternoon for her to say goodbye to him at last, and Em was on her way back to Dan’s apartment to pack up whatever was there. She wasn’t even sure what she’d left behind, but she needed to get it out of the apartment. She didn’t want to have to go to the place she almost considered home after saying goodbye to Dan for the final time.

For the first time since she’d answered Grace’s phone call and got no response on Tuesday night Em switched her phone back on, muting all her notifications but opening Spotify. Her Taylor Swift Heartbreak playlist was on repeat, big sunglasses hiding the bags under her eyes and making her blend in with the rest of the city. Last Kiss was playing through her headphones and she bit her lip as she went into the apartment building, pushing the button for Dan’s floor and waiting to go up. Their floor. Dan’s floor. He’d kept making the joke that she basically lived there, she should stay more. But London had always been their home base, really.

Never thought we’d have our last kiss. Never imagined it ends like this. Your name, forever the name on my lips. Just like our last kiss.

The music was blasting as she undid the lock, closing the door firmly behind her. Em didn’t notice the extra shoes in the hallway, didn’t hear the movement in the living room until she pulled an earbud out of one ear and heard movement. Looking up she stopped in terror as Joe and Grace Ricciardo were watching her with shocked eyes.

“Emmy?” Grace asked, worry filling her face as she took Em in fully. The panic filled her chest, her phone falling to the floor and the other earbud yanked out of her ear. They weren’t supposed to be here. They were supposed to be in Perth, far away from all of this. They were supposed to be the other side of the world and the apartment was supposed to be empty and she’d run away, why were they still here? Why weren’t they yelling?

Her hand reached out blindly, grabbing the side of the couch and holding on as it became hard to breathe. She didn’t know what was happening, panic filling her entire body as her thoughts fizzed out and she could feel herself shaking.

“Joe, get orange juice and some water? And put on the Red album, its by Taylor Swift. It’ll help her. Emmy I’m going to touch your arm and help you onto the couch. It’s just me, I’m right here Sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

“I’m so sorry, I’m so, so, so sorry,” she gasped out, Grace sitting her down and pulling her into a hug.

“You don’t need to be sorry, we understand why. We get it. Deep breaths, deep deep breaths. Follow my breathing. In for four, hold it for seven, out for four. Follow my counting.”

She followed Grace’s counting, almost jumping when she felt someone at the other side of her. Em kept her eyes closed, afraid if she opened them it’d be just a dream. State of Grace was playing in the background and the irony made her want to laugh if she was less panicked.

“It’s just Joe. We’re both right here for you, deep breaths. We’ve got you Emmy. We’ve got you.”

“I’m right here Kiddo. Follow Grace’s breathing and we’re right here.”

It took time for her to calm down and the trembling to stop. Treacherous was playing in the background as she opened her eyes, looking at her hands. Two familiar hands were clutching hers, sandwiching her on the couch.

“You’re here?” Em asked, Grace and Joe both squeezing her hand.

“We got in Tuesday to surprise you and Dan. He didn’t tell us what happened. We’re so glad to see you.” Grace’s voice was low, Em looking over at her and leaning in.

“I was coming to get my stuff. Michael’s getting Dan to come by the hotel room so we can clear the air.”

“We missed you so much.” It was quiet as Em took it in. The warmth of the two of them beside her, the way Grace’s arm was still around her back and holding her steady. Leaving once was impossible, but leaving twice felt like torture.

“I should go. I’ll get everything when you’re not here.” She went to stand but Joe held her in place, making her look at him.

“Why do you think you need to go?”

“I left. I’m not sure why you’re being so nice to me.”

“You’re family, Kiddo.” Those simple words made her break. The tears that the panic attack had held back started, Em trying to wipe them away. They wanted her. Nobody ever wanted her and she’d walked away but they wanted her and Em felt like she was going to break in two. But Dan’s parents held onto her tightly, calming her down until Grace pushed a glass into Em’s hands.

“You’ve had a shock. Drink the juice and then we’ll talk.” Once Em drained the glass she looked at Grace, the older woman holding her hands as Joe held onto her shoulders.

“Dan told us about what happened. He told us about you not wanting to make people pick sides. But you’re our family, Emmy. Just as much as he is. No matter what happens or happened with you and Dan, we want you in our lives. Don’t take that choice from us.” She nodded, Grace beaming at it. “Now, the kids gave me presents for you. They told us you weren’t well so they wanted to make sure you felt better. Plus we picked up things for you too.”

Joe was the one who went to a suitcase and opened it, pulling out a pile of presents. There were two packets of Tim Tams to make her laugh, a giant Perth mug the size of Dan’s head, and her favourite of all. A hand made get well soon card with childish colours on it, Isaac written semi neatly and Isabella written in a scrawl inside it. Attached to the card was a small white teddy bear that could fit in the palm of Em’s hand. There was a thin red scarf on the bear, making Em grin. She let out another tear at the inscription in the card, written in Isaac’s messy handwriting.

Auntie Emmy,

Uncle Dan said you’re sick and you can’t go on FaceTime with us but we miss you! London looks like it’s raining so you should come to us to get better cause it’s sunny. Isabella named the bear London cause it’s where you are.

Lots of love and see you in winter!

Isaac and Isabella

“They don’t know?” Em asked, Grace shaking her head.

“None of us did. You know how Dan is when he’s hurt, he keeps it in.”

“We both do. He…he’s my whole world. And it’s over and I have to say goodbye tonight and I don’t know how to.”

“Emma, look at me.” Joe had never used her full name and she looked up, wiping away tears. “I shouldn’t say this, he said it to us in confidence. But Danny said the exact same thing about you. He called you his life. Now I don’t know all the details of what happened, but if the two of you miss each other so much then I think you’re destined to fix things. You don’t get two loves like this. He wants you back, Kiddo. And I think you do too.”

“Yeah, I really do.”

Em sat there, holding the teddy to her chest as Grace and Joe kept her penned in. All she wanted was to stay right there with them.

She knew she needed to leave but it was the last thing she wanted to do. Even with the assurances that she was still family it just didn’t make sense. Her family had never wanted her but the Ricciardos still did? They wanted to keep her in their lives? She couldn’t understand why. Time kept passing and the sun was moving across the sky but she couldn’t do it.

Before she could make herself stand up, the front door opened and the oh too familiar footsteps came in. Dan was right there.

“Mum, Dad, I’m home!” She stood up at his voice, Dan coming into the room and stopping still. “Emmy?”

“Hi.” He was gaunt, the tan not hiding how pale and drawn he looked. She knew they were nearly identically haggard, the split hurting both of them more than they could have believed. They met in the middle of the room, Dan opening his arms and wrapping them around her. Em clung to him, holding on so tightly that she thought she might break him. Dan was doing the same thing, pressing kisses to her head. She could hear movement around them, listening out for speech.

“We’ll make sure she’s ok,” she could hear Joe say.

“Really?”

“Yeah. If we need to we’ll bring her to the hotel ourselves.”

“Thanks.” It was Blake and Michael who’d spoken and left the room, Em barely paying attention.

“We’ll leave you two alone.” That was Grace, squeezing Em’s arm and leaving the room as Em looked up at Dan. He was staring at her, and the look in her eyes made her nearly want to look away. It was fierce and caring and she thought it was echoed in her own.

“Are you really here?”

“I’m here.”

“Are…are you going to leave again?”

Em took a breath, deciding to be brave for once. “I’m only leaving if you ask me to leave.”

The grin that spread across his face was the best thing she’d seen in months, the bright smile making her join in.

“Can I kiss you?”

She didn’t even get the words out, nodding as Dan leaned down to kiss her and it felt like coming home. He was there and they had so much to fix, so much to work out, but he was her home. The idea that she was going to walk away or leave him again was impossible.

“I love you. I love you so much and there’s so many reasons why I should have said it before now but I love you and I want you to be my girlfriend. I know we have to talk but I need you to know, Baby Girl.”

“I love you too. So much. I didn’t think you loved me. That’s why I left. But I’m not going anywhere Dan. I can’t.”

He held onto her as they made their way to the sofa, Em settling on his lap. She didn’t fit the way she used to but she rested against his chest, her hand over his heart as her other hand held the teddy against her chest.

“Who’s that?” Dan asked, Em smiling.

“Isaac and Isabella sent him with your parents, they called him London. He’s to make me feel better. They’re good kids.”

“They love their auntie. I didn’t say anything to them. I didn’t know what to say. Just you were sick and had some family stuff so you couldn’t go on FaceTime with me. Next time I talk to them you can too?”

“I’d really like that.”

It was quiet for a moment before they both tried speaking at the same time, identical words flowing into each other.

“I’m sorry.” A huffed laugh went between them, Dan holding out his hand for her to speak.

“I’m sorry. For running, for not talking. I shouldn’t have left but I couldn’t stay. I was convinced it was over and you hated me. I couldn’t stay waiting.”

“I’m so sorry for making you think that, Baby. I love you. I’ve loved you for so long. I never should have said that, I shouldn’t have sent you away in Saudi. I shouldn’t have stayed away from you in Melbourne and I definitely shouldn’t have just left the bed that morning. I should have been there for you. If you’ll let me I want to be there for you now.”

“Yeah. I want it.”

“Yeah?” Em reached up to kiss him, separating and kissing his nose next.

“We have so much to talk about. We have so much we need to fix. But we can’t do it now.” Dan went to speak but she held up a hand and he let her continue. “This conversation we need to have is gonna take time and we don’t have time in the middle of the season. When summer break happens we’ll do it then?”

“That sounds good. But if stuff comes up we talk about it straight away. I can’t lose you Emmy. When you answered that call on Tuesday I couldn’t speak. I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me. Not again. And that was you?”

“Yeah. I thought you’d answer if you thought it was Mama, but I was in shock hearing you again. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Danny.”

She stayed curled up on him as they both half dozed, content to just be together. Grace and Joe came out a few moments later, looking at the two of them. Em fell asleep in Dan’s arms, unaware of what was happening around her.

“You gonna tell her everything?” Joe asked Dan quietly, watching as his son ran his hand up and down Em’s back.

“Yeah. We’re going to make this work. I got a second chance, Dad. I’m not losing her again.”

“Good.”

Em woke for dinner, actually eating the meal put in front of her. She still wasn’t hungry but having people around made it easier for her to eat. She was beside Dan, his hand on her thigh as they ate Grace’s cooking. It was quiet afterwards, Em pushing kisses to Dan’s cheek because it was something she could do now.

“Are you staying the night?” Dan asked, Em shrugging.

“I don’t know if I have anything here.”

“Your clothes are all still where they belong. I couldn’t move them.”

“Then yes.”

It was awkward as they got into bed for the first few moments, each lying on their own side and trying to get comfortable. Em took the first step, rolling over and putting her arm over Dan’s chest, resting her head on his pec and curling into him. One of Dan’s arms went around her, his lips pushing kisses to her to make her smile. It was the first night of uninterrupted sleep she’d had since she’d left Saudi.

Em woke to a kiss on her forehead as Dan eased out of the bed. “Hmm?”

“Go back asleep, Baby. Just getting up. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She put her arms around his pillow and curled into it, smelling Dan again on it. He was there and he’d told her he was getting up and it was fine. Fifteen minutes later she woke to more kisses to her face.

“Wakey wakey, I’ve got breakfast.”

“What?”

There was a tray waiting for her, bacon and eggs and a pancake on a plate. Dan’s own meal was there too, along with a bowl of fruit for them to split and a coffee each. She grinned and sat up as Dan got back into bed.

“You made breakfast?”

“You always love when I do.”

“I just didn’t expect it.”

“Happy anniversary, Emmy.”

“Happy anniversary.”

Four years since she’d been in Monaco and watched him win, four years since that night in the club and the sex that had led to everything. To the happiest and saddest she’d ever been in her life. She couldn’t help but grin, eating her breakfast and talking to Dan before going for a shower.

In the bathroom Em fully realised just how she looked. She’d lost weight, her face tight and her hair dull. She looked sick, dark bags under her eyes. And yeah she was there with Dan now but she wasn’t ok, not really. She needed to get herself together and Monaco was not the race to be back in public for.

It was too early in the morning for them to really get up, but Monaco was always weird and Dan had more media that day before and after the practices. Em had insisted she’d be fine there alone, she’d be happy on the couch with F1TV on. But Dan had another surprise for her.

There was a knock on the door at eight, Grace opening it up and welcoming the visitor in. Chloe Stroll stood there smiling, hugging Em and kissing her cheek.

“Everything good?” She asked, Em nodding.

“My boyfriend and I are good.” Chloe grinned, hugging Dan and whispering something that made him pale.

“I’m here for the day. Practice day isn’t fun from the garage, and I figured you wouldn’t want to be around the paddock this week considering everything.”

“Thank you.”

Blake and Michael were the last to arrive, the latter immediately coming over to Em.

“I’m good. Really, I’m good.” She gave Michael a hug, giving one to Blake as well.

“We need to head. I got Nat to move your interview to this morning instead of last night. I told her Em needed you because of family stuff. She was good to move because it was for Em.” Blake nodded towards her after he finished speaking, Dan putting his game face on.

“Tell her I said thanks?”

“Of course.”

Everyone except Em and Chloe left the apartment, the two women sitting on the couch with coffee and Chloe catching Em up on everything that had happened. Apart from that it was relaxing, FP1 on. Em cringed at the times, nervous watching Dan going around the track. She’d seen him be confident on it and seen him be miserable on it, and this was reminding her too much of the year before. But she had lunch with Chloe and they spent an hour painting each others nails as FP2 began. Ems were blue and purple to match Dan’s helmet from the year before, just dry as she caught sight of an orange car going into the wall.

“No. No.” Chloe grabbed her hand as Em increased the volume.

“Is the car ok?” She heard Tom say.

“I’m ok.” She breathed a sigh of relief before standing, heading to the bedroom and putting one of Dan’s oversized hoodies on.

“Em? What are you doing?” Chloe called, watching Em slip on vans.

“I have to see him.”

“Ems, you can’t. He’ll be back soon, he’s fine.”

“I have to. Chlo…if that was Scotty and something happened on a half pipe, and you were a kilometre away. You’d run, right?”

“Yeah. I would.”

“Please.”

It took five minutes for Chloe to do Em’s makeup, hiding the worst of the dark circles around her eyes and the sickly pale complexion she had. The two women had their passes, Em picking hers up from the counter and putting it around her neck. It was an active pass, it was her pass, and it’d get her into McLaren which was where she needed to be. They scanned in and were mostly ignored, just looking like two more young women who were in the paddock. Chloe slipped into Aston, promising to text as soon as she saw Lance for Em to head over to them. Em walked up to McLaren, scanning her pass in front of the security who watched with suspicion as she was immediately allowed into the garage.

Grace and Joe were standing in the viewing spot and Em crept up, tapping Joe’s shoulder. Dan’s car was back, the suspension clearly an issue and the front wing gone. Joe wrapped her in a hug, Em returning it and giving one to Grace.

“How is he?”

“Ok. He got checked out, he’s just finished media. He was going to the med centre afterwards so he could be approved, and then he’s going to his room. Head up there, he’ll be glad to see you.” She nodded, turning and going straight to it. She caught sight of a nod from Andreas and a look from Brown, but they were mostly ignored as she set her sights on her target.

The drivers room was small, Em sitting on the tiny couch and waiting. He’d be there soon. She’d see him and get to see him. He’d be ok. She could hear his footsteps coming down the hallway and when the door opened Em stood to see him.

She didn’t know who hugged who first, Em wrapping her arms around his shoulders to hold him. Her boyfriend was so much taller than her but she didn’t care, keeping him close and rubbing his back.

“I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve got a meeting in ten though,” Dan whispered, Em kissing his cheek.

“I’ll go down with you and sit in hospitality. It’ll be fine.”

Em held Dan’s hand going downstairs, walking into the garage still holding it as they got looks. Brown came over to call Dan to his meeting, but Dan leaned down to peck her lips before he said anything.

“I’ll be over when I can. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Chloe was just outside the garage, the paddock still mostly empty while practice was happening. She draped another lanyard around Em’s neck, nodding at Blake behind her.

“You’re in Aston Martin for the rest of the weekend, Dad said yes immediately. I thought it’d keep the media away, they won’t expect you to be there. Can you tell Dan?” The second part was to Blake who nodded, watching as Em was swept down to the green hospitality.

She spent the rest of the afternoon in there until she got a text saying they were leaving, the paddock now empty of media and Em putting her sunglasses back on to head down and walk out in the gaggle of people around Dan. She blended in and nobody noticed, Em tired after the day. Once they were further into the city Dan took her hand and she smiled up at him, the two of them able to do it in public. It felt so good.

That night Grace insisted on cooking for them before leaving to go for dinner with Joe, making their anniversary dinner before hugging them and saying goodbye. It was good food and smiling, Em ending up in Dan’s arms on the couch.

“I love you.” It felt so lucky to get to say it over and over and watch Dan’s eyes light up.

“I love you too. I booked flights to go to Perth on Monday. I was gonna tell everyone that you and I were over and you’d left. I thought the kids deserved to know in person.” Em sniffed, forcing back tears as Dan kissed her forehead. “Come with me. It’s a super quick visit, we’re back in Baku by Tuesday next week. But we need this. And I think you really need a hug from them.”

“I do. I really do. What do they know?” She hated asking, clutching the teddy they’d given her even closer.

“You were sick and there was family stuff going on so you couldn’t be on FaceTime. They didn’t need to know anything else.”

“They don’t need to know anything else.” She was firm, staring up at Dan. “They’re kids, they don’t need to know what happened. All they know is they have an auntie and an uncle who love them so incredibly much.” She nuzzled into Dan more, feeling kisses pushed to her head.

“Exactly.”

The next two days were exhausting, Em not fully fit for the experience. Dan was driving and looking miserable, she was constantly exhausted and felt like she was on the verge of having a meltdown. The noise, the movement, the people were so much. Chloe was great, Scotty there and holding her hand when she needed it in the hospitality. Lance came over to give her a hug on Saturday and she waved at Seb from across the room, getting a grin back in response. Her friends had learned she was there and it was secret meetings in the back of the Aston Martin garage where cameras wouldn’t see. The hugs Mick and Charles gave her made her grin. It wasn’t unusual for the two to pop by Aston, so they could be there in secret. She felt human again.

The practice and race were a wash. Dan wasn’t lapped, which was better than the year before, but she was so fed up of hearing Brown make comments about her boyfriends performance. Give him the car they promised and he’d be able to do something with it. This hunk of junk they’d given him that was designed around his shorter teammate? It wasn’t going to work.

They went back to the apartment that evening, Blake and Michael on the couch with her as she watched Dan change into a suit for a sponsor event. Em offered to go with him, put on a dress and heels, but Dan insisted she shouldn’t do it. She needed to relax and spend time resting, so instead Em kissed him goodbye and waved to Grace and Joe who were accompanying him. She was wrapped in one of the original Ric3 hoodies they’d designed and clutched London the bear as she dozed off. It was one more night until she got on the first flight to Australia and she couldn’t wait.

She woke being lifted off the couch, Dan holding her up and carrying her to the bedroom.

“Huh?” Em asked, still half asleep.

“Just going to bed, Emmy. I got out early and wanted to come home to you.” She filed the question about getting away early to one side, instead focusing on how Dan slipped next to her in the bed and she got to curl up beside him, arms around her as he kissed her forehead before going to sleep with her.

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