We’re drenched. This time it’s not only him who is soaking wet, and it’s so cold. “Come on,” he says quietly. Taking hold of my wrist, he breaks into a run, and we head back to where I left my car. “We are going to be soaked through!” I call to Sebastian. The wig I’m wearing is already soaked and
ZAIA. “Alright, keep your head down. There are no cameras, but still. I’ll go ask for a room.” We had finally found a dingy motel after driving around for a bit, but it was better than nothing. If it wasn’t for Sebastian’s keen sense of direction, we would still be out in the storm. “Rooms.” I c
Guilt rushes through me, and I tilt my head. “Tell them I’m sorry. Are they awake?” I glance at the time, but I don’t think they will be, it's way past their bedtime. “Oh, they’re asleep now, but don’t worry, I told them you are working. I am glad you called Zaia. I was close to alerting the guard
I’m going to have to go out there and face him… He’s only in a towel… I close my eyes, leaning against the tiled wall and thinking of that small room. Where will we sleep? I mean, the only other place is the narrow entrance in front of the door. I could put two towels on the floor… My stomach ru
SEBASTIAN. There’s sadness and regret in her eyes before she looks down, taking her phone back from me. There’s no way to explain the pain in my chest. Ashbane or not, I fucked it all up. I should have been there when she was pregnant and going through heartbreak when she was poisoned, when she
I keep hurting you. Slowly I slip my hands under her, ever so slowly, ready to move her to bed, when her eyes fly open. She slams me back onto the floor. My head hits the corner of the wall, sending pain rushing through my head. She then pins me to the ground straddling me, one hand tight around
I get up on my own and only then do I realise I really feel fucking bad. “Fuck.” I stagger to the bed and I’m about to lie down when she quickly puts the pillow down for me. “Here’s some water from last night. Drink it if you need to.” She says placing the bottle down in the covered bag that cont
ZAIA. “Zaia, is everything ok?” I look up at Mom from where I’m slicing the potatoes for the evening meal. “Of course, why do you ask?” I smile. Mom looks concerned from where she’s braiding Sia’s hair at the kitchen table. “You don’t cook unless you have a lot on your mind.” She says with a kn