Blondie Wannabe: A Billy Hargrove Fanfic

Libra and Leo

We pulled into the parking lot of Leila's bar at half past midnight, and, through the windows, I could see it was mostly vacant, just a few old men sipping whiskey or bourbon and one couple in their thirties swaying on the dancefloor. There were no pink and purple lights blinking overhead like the night Billy and I had met.

Looking at him in my peripheries, I wondered if he was thinking about that evening, about us having sex in the bathroom. Or if he was still hung up on what we'd seen at my house

"Is that normal?" he asked, finally.

"What?" 

"What do you mean what?" he snapped. "Does your dad beat you guys all the time?"

"No, I mean-" I pressed my hand against my forehead. "I haven't lived at home in years. Maybe this has been happening since I've been gone." That would explain Steve's resentment towards me, and why he'd been so visibly angry with my parents. Usually the willful child was my role to play.

"Has he ever hit you?" 

"No, no, no," I said quickly. "I mean, he would say awful things to me. That I wasn't good at anything or I was a disappointment, but he would never lay a hand on me." The scene with him and Steve replayed over and over in my head. "Maybe he didn't actually hit Steve. Maybe he just threw the lamp, or maybe my brother broke it."

"Why the fuck are you trying to defend him?" Billy asked, upper lip pulled back in a half-snarl.

"I don't know, I'm sorry." He was right; it was disgusting to think of Steve as anything but the victim. "I just don't want my dad to be the bad guy, okay?" 

He nodded, not saying anything.

Placing I hand on my chest, I felt my heart racing, faster than I thought was possible. Tears pinched my eyes and there was something inside me that wanted to scream, but I smothered it, forced it down into my stomach. "I can't do this, I can't fucking do this."

"It's gonna be okay."

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, I grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and pulled his face close to mine. "You cannot tell anyone about this, no one, it would ruin Steve. And me. Do you understand?"

"Of course," he whispered with a level of sincerity I'd never heard from him before.

And then, as quickly as I'd lashed out at him, I pulled his mouth to mine to kiss him, and it was like kissing a lover I hadn't seen in a decade; like he'd just gotten back from the war, and I'd been waiting faithfully for him to come home. And just as it was becoming more than a kiss, something snapped inside me. It didn't break or collapse, just a small crack in my shield, and I started crying. Our lips separated when a sob shook through me. I felt him reach out a hand, fingertips just barely grazing my hair.

I ripped myself away from him and stormed out fo the car, humiliated and confused. "Let's go, I know someone who works here."

Billy mumbled something to himself, but I didn't call him on it. Inside the bar, it was substantially warmer, almost too warm. I could feel my makeup literally melting off my skin. As I'd hoped, Sal was behind the bar, mindlessly wiping the counter and looking bored.

"Hi," I said as cooly as I could, sitting down on one of the stools.

"Deb?" He looked m up and down with a raised eyebrow. "What are you doing here? And why the hell are you wearing that dress?"

"We need a place to stay."

"Why?"

I looked over at Billy, then back at Sal. "It's complicated."