wild side || tommy lee / motley crue

18. same ol' situation

Tommy hasn't spoken to me for nearly a week. No matter how many tries I've given on just having a normal conversation with him, he simply refuses or does anything to avoid me. And no, I'm not justifying what I'd done. I'm well aware that he cares about me very fucking deeply, but he's married and having an affair behind his wife's back.

And the only thing that connects me to this mess is that I'm the one he's having an affair with.

10/01/1984

I was so fed up with Tommy's ignorance towards me so I rethinked it and genuinely decided to go and spit it all out to Heather. Yes———it was going to cost ME a lot of trouble but I mean, seriously, who does this man think he is? I will not tolerate being someone's fling for what, a few months? Hell fucking no.

"Heather?" I called out from behind the door of Tommy's room, except Tommy himself, was in the kitchen, smoking crack with the guys.

"What?" She replied from inside the room, sighing.

And yes, I did rethink it way before. I wasn't going to let a married man kill me off after having sex with me several times behind his wife's back.

I slowly opened the door, taking in the view.
She was taking out the rolls in her hair in front of a large mirror in her husband's room. She glanced at me through the mirror and slightly furrowed her brows.

"I need to talk to you. It's serious. Stays between us too."

The plan absolutely was not to let this stay between me and her only, because, I knew she'd confront him about it anyway.

Heather turned around from the mirror, facing me.

"What about?" She asked.

"Tommy."

Immediately I could see her unbothered face shift into a more perturbed concerned expression, as if she knew what I was going to inform her about. Her eyes looked like she knew everything that's been going on for the past few months.

Before I could open my mouth, Tommy stepped his foot in the room and almost immediately spoke up before I could even start my conversation with Heather;

"Valentina, come here we need to talk."

And I knew he had found out about my pathetic little attempt to tell on him.

I let out a loud sigh and gave him an obnoxious look, following him down the hall.

We ended up in my room with the door closed and locked between us. He sat me down on the bed and stood right in front of me.

"Did you seriously think about doing that?" He muttered, staring down at me with a disappointed expression.

"Yes I fucking did." I stated the obvious.

He sighed and started pacing around the room in a semi-slow pace, glancing at me from time to time.

Is he fucking crazy?

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked him, eyeing him up and down.

He paced his way to my bed and sat down right next to me, too fucking close for comfort.

"Listen. This has to stay between us, okay? Don't ever think about speaking to Heather about this again, you hear me?"

Does he really think he comes off as threatening to someone like me?

"Fuck off, Thomas. You don't get to speak to me like that, you hear me?" I state, mocking him.

He harshly grabs me by the chin and practically forces me to look him in the eye. I widen my eyes at him as the look in his eyes darkens.

"Why are you doing this?" He asks me, his tone way too calm for comfort.

"Why the fuck do you think? You hate me then you love me, you fuck me then you leave me, who the fuck do you think you are? Then you proceed to ignore me for what, like a week?" I ramble and empty my head of all the thoughts that had been bottled up for a long time.

He doesn't say anything and just stares at me. He seems to be at a loss of words. We stared each other down with a deadly glare until he decided that the tension was too much and connected our lips.

It was genuinely deranged how much control this man had on me—and there was nothing I could possibly do about it.

It's the same ol' situation, ain't it?

I try to push him off of me but his body's pressure forces me to lay down, on my back. His hands roam all around my body as his tongue roams around every inch of my mouth.

"I hate you" is what I wanted to say, but what really came out was;

"Fuck me, Tommy."