The One-Shots | D.O'B.

Secrets, Sex, and Scandals pt. 2 | Richie

He's late.

Two hours, fourteen minutes, and thirty-seven seconds late.

This is odd for a number of reasons, one of which being that Richie Boyle is nothing if not timely.

At least when it comes to you.

The time you two have together is limited and precious. Which is why he's never a second late.

So where the hell is he?

Your hands twist together in front of your stomach, the hairs on the back of your neck bristling as you glance along the street for any sign of his familiar hat and trench coat.

He'd hate the idea of you standing out in the cold waiting for him. Especially so out in the open where anybody could see.

But what else are you supposed to do? He told you to meet him here and now here you are, and it's getting dark, and your father will be home soon, and you just need to see your Richie for just a moment before you part ways again, and—

Voices. You can hear them, trickling down the alleyway as you tense, and turn to look over your shoulder.

You see about two or three men. Maybe four.

And then...you see him.

A grin breaks free as you watch his lanky silhouette approach you from out of the shadows, already rushing forward as you fight the urge to fling yourself into his arms.

But the moment the light catches his face, you skid to a stop.

His left eye is bruised and swollen. His lip is cut and bleeding. His clothes are torn, and he doesn't seem to have the strength to hold himself upright.

You look between the other men as one of them nods at you. "Look, I know we're not supposed to do this...but he's hurt. Real bad. We can't take him with us like this, and if they find him...they're gonna kill him."

Your heart drops.

The man's expression softens. "Now, he said we weren't supposed to ask you, but I didn't see much choice. You gotta take him home and look after him."

Shit. Your lips part, ready to argue that your father will never allow Richie through his doors, but just before you can, you catch his eye.

And it guts you. Splits your heart right down the middle to see the man you love so tortured and bruised.

You don't have a choice.

You nod, already motioning them forward. "All right. Put him in my car."

They do as instructed, doing their best to walk him forward as he hisses between clenched teeth, wincing with each step.

And once he's secure in the car, they nod their thanks, tip their hats, and disappear back into the shadows.

You slip inside the car next, quickly looking for your key to get him home as quickly as possible.

But just before you can start the engine, you feel his fingers slip around your wrist.

Your breath hitches as you look over.

That familiar golden tint has you tripping over a gasp as he squeezes your hand and pulls you closer. "Don't," he seethes, other hand hovering over his stomach, pressing into yet another injury.

You hope it's not a bullet wound.

"I have to," is all you say, trying to tug your arm free.

His grip tightens. "You can't," he reminds you. "He'll never allow it—"

"I don't care." Your voice is sharp. Rejecting his premise before he can even finish his sentence. "I don't care, I'm not leaving you here to die."

"You have to," he tries again, nearly growling the instruction at you. "You have to, he'll never forgive you—"

"So?"

"So, he could take away everything you've built," he attempts to remind you. "Your future, your plans...your education. Okay, you were supposed to be the good one. You were supposed to make it out of here and do something with your fucking life—"

"I don't have a life if I don't have you."

He goes quiet. Snaps his jaw shut and leers at you with a desperate gleam in his eye. "Mama, you can't do this...you can't risk everything for me—"

You straighten up defiantly. "And why the hell not? Huh? I love you. I love you, and I don't care about my father, or your fucking father, or about any of it. I just want you safe."

His lips purse. "Yeah? And what happens after you stich me up? You think we'll ever be free? You think I'll bring you into my world? Just to watch you get shot?"

You swallow. "No, I...I just—"

"Exactly. You didn't think this through, did you—"

"There's nothing to think through, Richie." You blink back tears. "Look, you can go off with your men, and your father, and leave me behind. You can do whatever you want with your life, with or without me. But I'm taking you home and I'm fixing you. I'll say goodbye to you one day, but it won't be tonight. And it won't be like this."

He stills. Studies your determination with a pained look on his face and for a moment, you wonder if he sees a future with you. Truly.

Or if it was all just talk.

Then, he releases you, and slumps back into the passenger seat. "Fine. Drive."

It's not an answer. It's not a solution. It's not even polite.

But right now, you'll take what you can get.

So, you do.

You drive.

And you say a prayer to whatever god is up there that no matter what happens...he'll let Richie live.

That he'll let you keep him.

Just for tonight.