Hey you guys, I am soooo sorry it took me so long to update! Don't hate me!! Angelfish, thank you so much for liking it! Morgan, you rock also! Dimonah Tralon, thank you for your review. And last and definitely the least, Disturbed-girl, you are a jerk! So what if I told the cop to shut up, it was in the context of the situation! Now everybody thinks I'm some sort of juvenile delinquent. I'm really not you guys!! I hate you Nicki! My birthday present better be good! :oP
Chapter Nine
Tara grabbed a warm glass off of the shelf at Razini's Place and proceeded to fill it with cold water. Without realizing what had happened, the glass split in half and sliced open her palm. Shit! She thought. It was just one more thing. Since the beginning of the week everything had been going downhill, and fast. She was still mourning the fact that she had to sell her mother's blue necklace, but it had given her enough money to get through the rest of the month.
She looked at the blood welling from her cut and sighed. Tara rounded the corner to find Mr. Razini chatting with one of the regulars.
"Mr. Razini, could I have something to wrap my hand in?" She asked, not wanting to interrupt.
"What happened, Bella?" He asked, surprised to see her bleeding steadily.
"Nothing, I wasn't paying attention and I filled a warm glass with ice water." She said rolling her eyes.
"Well, take your break and wrap up your hand. Be back in about twenty minutes." He told her, and with that, he went back to schmoozing with the customer.
"Gee, thanks a whole lot for the help." Tara muttered. She went outside and made a pathetic attempt at wrapping her hand.
After it was sufficiently wrapped, not a good job, but it would do, she lit her cigarette. She inhaled the sweet, biting smoke felt the nicotine clear her mind. Tara sat on a crate and leaned her head against the brick of the building.
That's how Spot saw her. Her beauty hit him in the gut and made his breath stop. Her fragility made him weak with his need to help her. But her strength made him afraid of what she was thinking. That's how he thought of her. Beautiful, fragile, dangerous. He knew that she held his whole future in the palm of her hand and that was dangerous.
Tara felt his presence before she saw him. The emotion in his crystal blue eyes made her stop herself before brushing him off.
"Spot. What are you doing here?" She asked.
"I just wanted ta see you." He told her honestly. "What happened ta your hand?" He asked, worry filling his eyes.
"Oh, nothing." She remarked offhandedly as she brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "I just did a dumb thing."
"Can I see it?" He asked. And without her assent, he gently took her hand in his.
Spot unwrapped the bandage and looked at the wound. It would heal clean. He had seen many cuts and bruises in his life, and saw that she had cleaned it well. He gently wrapped the bandage back around her hand and when he was finished, without taking his eyes off of hers, he pressed his lips to the center of her palm.
Tara felt her heart pound out of her chest. Goddamn it! She thought. She was over him. She told herself that everyday. Oh, screw it. And with that thought, she took his face between her hands and pressed her lips to his. He started for a moment, but after he got his feet back under him, he took the kiss to the next level.
Spot teased her lips with his tongue and when she parted them, he slid his tongue in, tasting her. She met his action with her own and they pressed themselves closer to each other.
Tara slowly backed away from him and without letting fear take over, she asked him to wait for her until she got out.
"I'd wait forever for you, Tara."
Tara smiled to herself and eased back into the building.
After Tara signed out, she went out the back door, and saw Spot sitting on the crate that she had sat on just a couple hours ago. He looked so handsome. Clean, strong lines accented his body. His face also held such strength with his square jaw. But his eyes held such warmth.
"Spot." She called softly. He opened his eyes and stood up quickly. "Walk me back to my apartment?" She asked uncertainly.
"Of course."
They walked saying nothing to each other, and when they reached her apartment door, she leaned against it.
Spot pressed his length against her and pressed his hands against the door next to the sides of her head. Tara lifted her face for a kiss, but this time, she was the one to take it further.
"Stay with me tonight." She half asked, half told him.
"Are you sure?" He asked tentatively.
"I'm not sure about anything anymore, but I know that I need you to be with me."
And when she opened the door to her apartment, she opened the door to her heart. Spot walked into both.
Tara's dream returned, but in a different form. She heard a gunshot and realized what had happened. She saw herself standing over the bed, the gun in her hand, and Spot was slumped over against the wall, blood pouring out of his mouth. He just stared at her, accusations easily read through his expressive eyes. He looked at her as if she was crazy, and she knew that he was right.
Tara woke with a start. She held the sheet to her chest as she sat up and looked at Spot. What had she done? She was only going to hurt him. She knew that she was going to have to drive him away tomorrow emotionally, before she physically hurt him. Knowing that killed her. She loved him so much, but she knew that the same madness that had taken hold of her father had taken hold of her. She got up, put some clothes on, and fell asleep on the same chair that Spot had fallen asleep in not too long ago.
Chapter Nine
Tara grabbed a warm glass off of the shelf at Razini's Place and proceeded to fill it with cold water. Without realizing what had happened, the glass split in half and sliced open her palm. Shit! She thought. It was just one more thing. Since the beginning of the week everything had been going downhill, and fast. She was still mourning the fact that she had to sell her mother's blue necklace, but it had given her enough money to get through the rest of the month.
She looked at the blood welling from her cut and sighed. Tara rounded the corner to find Mr. Razini chatting with one of the regulars.
"Mr. Razini, could I have something to wrap my hand in?" She asked, not wanting to interrupt.
"What happened, Bella?" He asked, surprised to see her bleeding steadily.
"Nothing, I wasn't paying attention and I filled a warm glass with ice water." She said rolling her eyes.
"Well, take your break and wrap up your hand. Be back in about twenty minutes." He told her, and with that, he went back to schmoozing with the customer.
"Gee, thanks a whole lot for the help." Tara muttered. She went outside and made a pathetic attempt at wrapping her hand.
After it was sufficiently wrapped, not a good job, but it would do, she lit her cigarette. She inhaled the sweet, biting smoke felt the nicotine clear her mind. Tara sat on a crate and leaned her head against the brick of the building.
That's how Spot saw her. Her beauty hit him in the gut and made his breath stop. Her fragility made him weak with his need to help her. But her strength made him afraid of what she was thinking. That's how he thought of her. Beautiful, fragile, dangerous. He knew that she held his whole future in the palm of her hand and that was dangerous.
Tara felt his presence before she saw him. The emotion in his crystal blue eyes made her stop herself before brushing him off.
"Spot. What are you doing here?" She asked.
"I just wanted ta see you." He told her honestly. "What happened ta your hand?" He asked, worry filling his eyes.
"Oh, nothing." She remarked offhandedly as she brushed her bangs out of her eyes. "I just did a dumb thing."
"Can I see it?" He asked. And without her assent, he gently took her hand in his.
Spot unwrapped the bandage and looked at the wound. It would heal clean. He had seen many cuts and bruises in his life, and saw that she had cleaned it well. He gently wrapped the bandage back around her hand and when he was finished, without taking his eyes off of hers, he pressed his lips to the center of her palm.
Tara felt her heart pound out of her chest. Goddamn it! She thought. She was over him. She told herself that everyday. Oh, screw it. And with that thought, she took his face between her hands and pressed her lips to his. He started for a moment, but after he got his feet back under him, he took the kiss to the next level.
Spot teased her lips with his tongue and when she parted them, he slid his tongue in, tasting her. She met his action with her own and they pressed themselves closer to each other.
Tara slowly backed away from him and without letting fear take over, she asked him to wait for her until she got out.
"I'd wait forever for you, Tara."
Tara smiled to herself and eased back into the building.
After Tara signed out, she went out the back door, and saw Spot sitting on the crate that she had sat on just a couple hours ago. He looked so handsome. Clean, strong lines accented his body. His face also held such strength with his square jaw. But his eyes held such warmth.
"Spot." She called softly. He opened his eyes and stood up quickly. "Walk me back to my apartment?" She asked uncertainly.
"Of course."
They walked saying nothing to each other, and when they reached her apartment door, she leaned against it.
Spot pressed his length against her and pressed his hands against the door next to the sides of her head. Tara lifted her face for a kiss, but this time, she was the one to take it further.
"Stay with me tonight." She half asked, half told him.
"Are you sure?" He asked tentatively.
"I'm not sure about anything anymore, but I know that I need you to be with me."
And when she opened the door to her apartment, she opened the door to her heart. Spot walked into both.
Tara's dream returned, but in a different form. She heard a gunshot and realized what had happened. She saw herself standing over the bed, the gun in her hand, and Spot was slumped over against the wall, blood pouring out of his mouth. He just stared at her, accusations easily read through his expressive eyes. He looked at her as if she was crazy, and she knew that he was right.
Tara woke with a start. She held the sheet to her chest as she sat up and looked at Spot. What had she done? She was only going to hurt him. She knew that she was going to have to drive him away tomorrow emotionally, before she physically hurt him. Knowing that killed her. She loved him so much, but she knew that the same madness that had taken hold of her father had taken hold of her. She got up, put some clothes on, and fell asleep on the same chair that Spot had fallen asleep in not too long ago.