Goodbye for now

Sun On My Skin

While the unsettling man continues to inspect me, never removing the gun from under my chin, his accomplice ransacks the house. Using no tact or decorum my belongings are thrown about the place. I scream out "no!" when our TV comes crashing down off of the stand. I watch as shards go sliding under the couch. Suddenly, the muzzle of the gun strikes my temple. My vision briefly goes black. The pain causes me to almost throw up my empty stomach. I stare out the window. The sun is just barely peeking up from its slumber. I silently beg Jax to suddenly appear, whip out some crazy ninja skills and rescue me.

I mumble out a meek "sorry" and my keeper seems satisfied that he managed to break my, already broken, spirit a little more. His accomplice starts getting impatient. "Come on, boss, there's nothing here." he huffs out petulantly. I don't blame him. He looks no more than 19 with black latex gloves spread tautly over his hands. He returns downstairs and continues a little longer before finally throwing his hands up and sighing. "You sho'?" the boss man asks through clenched teeth. They've made up their minds it seems, as I get dragged back upstairs and discarded onto the bed. Hands still bound at my back.

The bedroom is already chaotic. It was ransacked earlier while I was being scrutinized downstairs. Accomplice seems to want to take a second look though. He shuffles around my wardrobe, pulling out the manila envelope from behind the old unpacked boxes. Ripping open one of the seems he shuffles through the contents, then with an annoyed scoff, he tosses it onto the bed next to my head. If not money, what is it that they want from me?

Another length of rope is brought out to bind my ankles together. Mr. bossman grabs at me roughly as he ties the rope. "Thought you was Big Man's baby mama. There ain't no baby here and you sure as hell don't look pregnant" accomplice mutters while he tosses my clothes out of the wardrobe. I bury my face into the blanket not wanting to show them my tears. I'm nothing if I'm not able to force my tears to retreat. I can't let myself cry in front of these thugs.

I don't fight my bonds or try to escape even long after the men leave. The position that I was forced into made it difficult for me to breathe. I'm left only able to take short shallow breaths. The pain in my shoulder gets worse with every minute that I lie there uncomfortably.

Dawn is still chilly. The only warmth I get is from whatever oozes from my throbbing head. My heart starts pounding in sync with the stomps as someone comes barreling up the stairs. I almost hold my breath when Jax comes slamming through the door. I groan at just how much the loud sound makes my head hurt. "What the hell! D'you do all this?!" the accusation slips from his glaze when he finally gets a second to take me in. "Yo, you straight? What the fuck happened here?" All questions I don't want to answer.

My limbs feel heavy. It's like my limbs are cast in cement weighing them down. Ready to go sleeping with the fishes. Tropical colors dance across the ceiling of the car. I tuck my chin into my chest to look down at the window across from me. The city is slowly waking up. Curtains are drawn open. Arms are stretched up and out while mouths hang open in silent screams and eyes squeeze shut. Very few cars sprinkle the roads.

I miss sex. I miss the bare, raw, open intimacy that comes with it. Though Rio's not the only man I've been with, he's certainly the best and so I don't look back on the few others. But now I'm forced to look forward into a bright light as the second most handsome man I've ever seen in my life inspects my eyes. I don't feel an ounce of shame when I subtly return the doctor's flirty glances with equal energy.

I'm drawn to him for some reason. There's a carefree light that whirls in his eyes. A light that soothes my darkness. I yearn to see what he looks like when I make him laugh. Will his skin crinkle up in the corners of his eyes? Will he try to make me laugh in turn? Will he kiss me on the cheek at the end of the night? I desperately want to know if he'd order his favorite meal or if he'd try something new. Even more, I want to know what it feels like to be looked at tenderly and caringly once again.

To feel free and let the light inside his eyes consume me, even for just a moment.

There's a part of me that wonders if I'm just desperate, and I'm latching on to the only man to show me that I'm attractive in a long time because I miss having someone to care about and someone who cares for me. I miss strong arms holding me tight, the bear hugs that make me giggle.

Patrick walks past us in the emergency bay and waves to me offering me another pitying smile. What does this look like to him? Me sitting here with one eye close to swelling shut, deep purple hues lie under the surface of my skin, in the emergency room next to a scary intimidating man who's covered in tattoos. The doctor gives me the all-clear, I don't have a concussion. Then I'm ushered back home. Right back into the bed that I hate. Except for this time, it's dressed in pale green.

Jax sits across from me in an armchair that was supposed to be decorative. One of the chairs that Rio insisted were pointless and unnecessary. Neither one of us made any effort to clean up. He just stares at me intensely. Scrutinizing. Waiting for me to show any sign of discomfort. Jax doesn't move, not when I'm pretty sure I hear his stomach grumble. Not even when the sunsets.