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He returns from the car with a large duffel bag that weighs heavily on his shoulder. Now I’m more confused than ever.
He drops the bag at my feet, opening it to reveal tons of stacks of cash. “This is for you if you can keep your mouth shut about what happened. Don’t ever tell a soul anything that you saw. Do you understand me?”
I hold back a laugh. “Do you think anyone in my life would believe me if I even told them? The people I know think that watching a drunk person get arrested is hardcore. They’d think I was insane if I told them even half of what happened.”
His eyes are suspicious, but he eventually shrugs it off.
“Besides, I don’t want your money. I don’t need to take a bribe from you. I can stay quiet just fine, remember?” I continue, smiling just a bit more warmly at him as an invitation.
“Nothing is ever going to happen between us again. I need you to understand that,” he replies, leaving no room for mystery between us at all.
My heart sinks, and I try to erase the disappointed expression on my face. “Wait, why not? I really like you. I thought you felt the same.”
“It’s not about that. I don’t want to explain, because I know you’ll try to reason with me. But you can’t. This is the way it has to be,” he replies firmly.
There’s a moment of heavy silence between us, and for a split second, I feel like he might be regretting his decision to leave me behind forever.
He picks up the bag, zipping it and throwing it over his shoulder.
“I’m sorry things have to be this way. I hope you have an amazing life, Holly.”
That’s all I get. Not a hug or a kiss or anything else. I watch him walk away, eventually turning on the car and driving back down the road.
As soon as he turns the corner, I feel a heaviness in my chest that hits me harder than I could have ever prepared for. It’s almost unfair the way I was able to get myself so attached to him overnight like that. Why does biology have to be so cruel?
I go into my house, saddened by the silence inside now more than ever. It feels so strange returning to such a normal house in a normal life after all of this. Will I end up feeling like this was all just a dream someday?
When I enter the living room, I’m greeted by the empty space as soon as I walk in. I’ve never felt so taunted by it before. Maybe it wasn’t for the best that I met Saint, because now I’ll be looking for someone to fill that void for me for the rest of my life.
Even if I thought it would be appropriate to reach out to him again, which it’s not, I’d have no way of getting into contact with him. I’ve been able to taste what true passion felt like, just once, and I’ll likely never experience anything like it again. I suppose this isn’t super uncommon, finding someone who is temporary but changes your life forever in some way.
Even still, it feels so unfair.
My clothes are filthy from the night, and it would be wise for me to look over my skin for bruises, scrapes, and other injuries. The two car crashes alone were probably enough to hurt me pretty badly, and I’m shocked that I’m even able to walk on my own in the first place. There’s a slight ache in my neck, which could be more concerning than I’m giving it credit for, but at this point, I just want to lie down and go to sleep.
I wander into the master bathroom, glancing around at all of my nice normal things that will always feel just a little different from now on.
Showering in the hot water feels incredible, and for a brief moment, I’m able to let one positive feeling replace the emptiness that I’ll be feeling for the foreseeable future. I don’t want to be the kind of woman who gets hung up on some guy, and before now, I could pride myself on saying that I wasn’t.
Now, I’m not so sure.
I get out of the shower, slipping into a t-shirt and panties, and I walk back out into my bedroom to sleep for the next thirteen hours. There’s nothing else I’d rather do than just turn my brain off for a while. I want to forget everything temporarily, to escape the newfound craving that I hadn’t had before.
I drift off in minutes, thinking about nothing but Saint until I’m out cold.
I guess that’s it.
11
Saint
It’s been two weeks since the incident with Holly, and now I’ve been summoned to assist with planning the yearly Christmas party among the bratva elites. We’ve done this every year for as long as I can remember, but this year, everybody wants to spend an insane amount of money to celebrate our profits this year.
I understand their excitement completely, but if they just want to get fucked up and walk home at four AM with their shirts off, I don’t see why I need to be a part of the planning process. They do the same thing every year, and they’ll be perfectly fine if we do everything to the letter just as we did the year before. They’re simple people, as much as I love them. We’re already spending a fuck-ton of money to make sure everything is perfect. They’ve done just fine without me every year prior.
Even though this isn’t something I usually help out with, things have been quiet with Vadik disappearing after the shootout at the lumberyard. I’m confident that he’s planning something to get back at me, but he’s such a loose cannon that I don’t expect him to be inconspicuous about it at all. I’m not worried about being distracted, and I could use the change in atmosphere around here.
The only issue I have with the party in general is that it’s usually an event where everyone brings their wife, girlfriend, or current bloodless, gold-digging whore to show off. I typically don’t have anyone important to bring, and it’s been easy to stay in the background and get drunk while everyone else gets progressively sloppier throughout the night. I’ve even made something of a tradition out of it for myself. It’s always interesting to see who blacks out first, who proposes to their girlfriend and forgets it the next morning, and who ends up getting dragged home at the end of the night. So far, we’ve been able to narrowly avoid any arrests, but that’s only because we have the means to pay off the venue staff. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure we would have been banned from Christmas for life.
