2 am was a good hour Myka thought, no one out and about, traffic all but a ghost as the red lights flashed in tune with the slapping of her windshield wipers. "No one to see," Myka thought to herself as she pulled up to the last far spot of the parking lot.
Myka clicked her car off, walking slowly to the back of her black SUV, pulling out the cheap, plastic hamper from the back, her hip shutting the truck as she turned to the dim light of the all-night laundry mat.
Her cursing to herself as she reentered the five dollar bill for change. Her eyes darting around as the soft clinks of the coins echoed throughout the empty room. The soft hum of Cicadas echoing was briefly interrupted by the low drum of a passing cars down the road of the intersection.
"Jackass," she cursed under her breath at a revved up engine speeding down the wet, empty road, the soft splash of water from the wheels causing her shoulders to hitch up around her ears. "While be picking your ass off the the road later," scoffing to herself as she poured the liquid into the top loader. Her breath of frustration blowing up the small fallen locks of curls that dared to fall over her eyes.
'Just relax babe,' Sam's voice echoing in her mind as she poured the bleach over the stain on his white, button up shirt. Her fingers feeling numb at the fierce scrubbing after a few minutes.
"You were the Jackass, just could not wait a few seconds more, you prick!" then yanking her hand back as her nails scraped the outer skin on the palm of her hand. "Fucking jerk!" yelling in a hushed tone as she tossed the shirt into the washer, slamming the lid shut. The harsh echo reverberating throughout the empty laundromat.
The low sound of clicking cheeks caused the woman to spin on her heels, a low rush tainting her cheeks at the relation that she was not alone in the desolate laundromat.
"Pardon my intrusion," the soft, laced filled sorrow filling the hollows of the empty dryers, echoing off the cheap tile floors.
"Pardon?" Myka reaching to her hip, her mind going blank as her body reacted of its own accord, her fingers gripping at the ghost of her holster and Glock that would always be at her side.
But not tonight.
She froze as she watched raven hair envelope the the face of the intruder who dared to enter this bubble of hurt and pain that had enveloped her these past five days.
"This pain is just too real,"
Myka relaxing her grip on the fantom of the holster left on the edge of her nightstand, titering on the premises of regret next to the near empty bottle of Irish whiskey her body was now craving, her fingers shaking at the thought of the amber liquid, swallowing harsh as if a shallowing glass with each throated reminder of the burn in her soul.
"Repressed by all my childhood fears," Myka slowly turning around as she watched the smaller woman gently, lovingly place the soiled garments into the top loader.
"Her presence still lingers and shall never leave me alone," the woman holding up a child size dress to her face, her breathing in deeply as her eyes closed. Myka enraptured as she watched, elegant but shaking fingers placing the soiled, child size dress into the machine.
"This pain will never heal," the slamming of the lid on the top end loader caused Myka to jump.
"I am so tired of being here," Myka's low throated confession caused a slight smile as the shorter woman finished placing the quarters into the machine.
"Go on," the woman with the accented voice said, her hand patting at the loader next to her after placing herself on top of the machine she had loaded.
"These wounds do not seem to heal," Myka's eyes turning wide with disbelief that she just confessed her darkest secret to a total stranger, in a laundromat at two in the morning.
"Sorry," Myka squeaked as her hand fell from her mouth.
"When they would cry you would wipe away all their tears, yes?" the warmth of those strong fingers gave a gently, yet understand squeeze.
Myka just nodded, her palm coming to the base of her chin, tilting so she could wipe away the acidic sting of tears pushing and then escaping behind her eyes. A rough swipe from the heel of her palm was just an iota of strength she was desperately clawing for.
"Your heartbreak?" Myka sniffled as she nodded to the low chugh of the top end loader trying desperately to wash away the pain and sorrow.
"My only child," the sigh heavy with breath as Myka watched shaking fingers thread through pitch as night hair.
"Yours?" the heaviness of those words breaking through the low humming of machines trying to erase heartache.
"Not as noble," Myka's head dropping, her eyes side-cast as she waited for the spin cycle to complete. Her fitting her fingers in her baggy jeans, thumb and forefinger grasping at coins as she tossed a dryer sheet into the lone dryer that seem to be calling her name.
"Lucky thirteen?" Myka shrugged as she tossed the damp clothes into the numbered dyer.
"She would scream and I would fight away all her fears," the look of Mahogany eyes glossing over as the all too familiar look of pain and loss would cloud over.
"Would you a suggestion a solution to rid away blood … cabbage stains, Miss?" the woman stopping short just an inch into the personal space of the younger woman.
"Baking soda seems to rid … stains," her head nodding as she hoisted herself up on the nearest washer that was not occupied, arm muscles touted as Myka leaned her weight on them.
"I see," the older woman saying … '
'Was that a hint of ...something?' Myka thought to herself, her bottom lip worried with thought between her teeth as the older woman inched between her legs.
"Your loss?" was a heated ghost of breath just below Myka's ear.
"My work partner …" the throated moan changing to a small confession as breath raised in heat.
"My one and only reason for living," the woman ghosted between the hollow of Myka's collar bones. The press of heated flesh between Myka's clad jeans had become a raging inferno with each step closer.
"I held her hand through all the treatments," the woman's breath heating a desire Myka had yet to behold in another living soul.
"Your child?" her words a wisp of breath as her thighs tighten around this woman.
"And your heart?" the woman's words reverberating against the hurt and pain at her nipples swelling at the lightest breath against them.
"His name?" the woman's breath and request as sure as steel as she ripped at the soft button down shirt Myka was wearing.
"Sam," her breath a whisp as she allowed her body to fall against the machines, her fingers tangling in dark as night raven locks.
"And yours?" the sudden jump of strength causing the older woman to sqworm back from talon grips.
"Your name?": Myka was just able to breath out between moans of ecstasy as strong, nimble fingers slid just under the hem of her white, cotton underwear.
"Granny Pants," was all but a rasped word as Myka fell back against the spin cycle of the top loader, her eyes stopping from rolling back as she gripped the sides of this woman's strength and training showing it's head, or what little was left as she held those eyes prisoner in her gaze.
"Name?" Myka rasped out as her hips bucked into the sweet pain of fingers straightened her beyond belief.
"Call me HG," the thrust of fingers stopped the gapped open mouth as stars filled Myka's every sight and fell.
"Helena …" was a mantra repeated over and over as the spin cycle bounced that perfect ass with each pass.
"How in the hell?" the woman gasping as she felt the sweet shutter of her walls convulsing in rhythm with the woman she had now impeded on the top end loader.
'Just a quick snog,' Helena had thought while adding a third eyes rolling back as she felt the sharp, sweet pain of blunt fingernails digging into her back, the quick quiver of thighs wrapped around her hips, drawing her deeper ... 'Anything to decrease the pain,"