Enjoy!

* * * Ch. 15 - Everything is Wrong (Interpol) * * *

Four blocks west is J&B. A quaint little place that serves, not only a good cup of coffee, but also the best homebrew this side of Mars—or so Faye tells me. That's where she'll be waiting while I take care of the bounty she's completely engrossed yet uninvolved in.

As for me, Cherry Pop could not be any less original. The smell, the colors, the girls. Everything about it does its best to be as generic as possible. Not five minutes have passed since I've made my way into the muggy, smoke-filled venue, and I already have to suppress the reflex to exit. There's just something that's been bothering me tonight. The things I'm around on a near daily basis: the smoke, the scent, the heat. My tolerance for them is very short right now.

But I at least manage to find Bunny quickly. She's definitely popular. And it's easy to see why. With Bunny, it's all in her hips. There's a certain rhythm to her steps, a tilt to her pelvis. A small waist and perky, full breasts. All framed by thin arms and long legs. But her hips. Her hips are the core, the alluring center holding her body together. And in Cherry Pop, she feels grossly unsuited.

It's obvious she gets treated differently though. She's the only one who gets called by name, whereas most of the others are just the girl with the red thong or the girl with the nice tits. Even the staff treat her like their queen. To say she was spoiled at Cherry Pop would be an understatement.

Unlike the rest of the girls, Bunny also gets to hand select her clientele. And I'm pleasantly surprised to receive an invitation soon after showing interest in her. But I don't get the chance to speak to Bunny just yet. It's her handler that approaches me, saying that after her time on the set is over, Bunny would be attending me in the back.

When that much is set, I retreat away from the heat near the stage and sit at the bar. It's much darker and, outside of cigarettes, there is barely any smoke here. The scent of perfume is faded too, although the stench of liquor increases twofold. But that much is fine. I'm able to breathe a little better here.

The bartender is a talker, but I don't see him miss or delay a single order. I finish a drink. Then two. And I inadvertently become part of a trio listening to him while waiting for Bunny.

"My boyfriend brags about his gold star. But, hey, I like what I like! I've never cared about any goddam gold stars." He points at my empty glass and says, "You guys ready for another?"

I ask for water but the other two get a new round of drinks. He clears our orders quickly and takes a minute to cover a few that come up in the pause. When things are back on track, he's right where he left off.

"He started going on and on saying, 'women are gross' or some shit. And I got fed up. So, I told him about Bunny. And I told him she would definitely get him off. And we bet on it." He says, "I'd just started working, never even met her. I don't know why I was so damn sure about it. But, man, she's got quite the reputation."

Bunny's reputation, as I come to learn from him, is really something. To put it simply, she's so good at what she does—and quite proud of it, too—that few can hold their own against her.

"And how did it go?" The twenty-ish, nervous-looking wreck sitting to my right asks. "Did he make it alright?"

The bartender laughs, "Like hell he did! He came out a mess. I told him, 'Stop being a jackass and wear the goddamn rubber before going in there.' But I swear this guy's stubbornness is gonna kill him one day."

When the kid gets called to the back, a new guy takes his seat, all soaked up and complaining about the rain outside. This bit sidetracks us and we go on to talk about the weather. We talk about how it's stopped traffic in several towns. And the man sitting to my left complains about his team's rivalry match being rescheduled. But when the hour is nearly up, we're right back to the same topic. A favorite among the bar.

"You all got lucky," the bartender mentions.

"Why's that?" I ask, gulping down the rest of the water.

"Bunny just showed up, so word hasn't gotten around. She rarely gets on stage, she'll be around and not work anything but the back."

I laugh, thinking just how ridiculous that is from a striper at a strip club. Or maybe it's because I'm starting to feel a little lightheaded.

In the end, it takes well over an hour before I'm called to the back. And having waited this long, having heard so much, it'd be a lie to say I'm not interested in Bunny beyond her bounty.

"There's a guy in there now, but his time is already up." Her handler is a burly man with wide set eyes and stout shoulders. Easily the type you'd avoid trouble with just based on his looks. "All the usual rules. No touching. No special requests. No being a cheap ass. Got it?"

"Yeah, I get it," I reply dismissively.

"If you need to get ready, the can is down that way on the left. But if you're not back in time, you lose your turn."

I look down the hallway. How much is self control worth to a man's pride? As frustrated as I am, I hardly have the energy to debate this with myself. A different day, I might have taken the risk, but tonight hardly seems like the night to be daring.

When I return to Bunny's door, the handler says sourly, "She stepped out to have a smoke. Just wait for her here."

I nod and pay the bouncer, making sure to include a good tip. This much seems to put him in a better mood. He opens the door, ushering me inside with a crooked smile. But as he walks away, I hear him muttering, "That privileged bitch and her fucking smoke breaks."

The room is small and dark, lit with a strange neon pink strip running the perimeter of the ceiling. Across from the door is a dark velvet chair. I can't make out if it's black or green or red. The essence of it disgusts me, so I remain standing, looking through the wall art. Neon beer displays, framed black and white pictures of nude women, a music poster of a cat with laser beam eyes.

It might be the fluorescence of the light or the liquor setting in, or maybe even the heat of the room. But my temples begin to ache and a dull sharpness begins to build at the base of my skull.

After another fifteen minutes, whatever curiosity I had had for Bunny disappears rather quickly. But just as I've made up my mind to head out and call it a loss, the door opens and Bunny's long legs carry her inside.

"Sorry," she says, "I just had to have a smoke.—Well, two.—But I'll be give you a good treat to make up for it. That sound good?" She speaks sweetly and there's a raspiness to her tone that makes her voice quite attractive.

Her perfume, however, is another case. The sweetness of it sticks to the bridge of my nose and it makes the pain pulsate between my temples. I don't respond to her, but Bunny doesn't seem to notice.

"Sit down for me."

I take a seat on the disgusting velvet chair and Bunny is on my lap not a second later. Her perfume catches me off guard again and I have to swallow hard to settle my stomach. I lean back and move my hands to the armrests, but Bunny catches my fingers and places my hands on her hips. Her flesh is soft.

I smirk, "Is this my treat?"

"You like it?" she says leaning back, her hips grinding slowly.

"So far."

She smiles, "I don't think I've seen you around."

"Yeah, I'm just passing by. But I heard about you, so…"

She leans forward, pressing and wrapping her body around me. She really is incredibly attractive. And her body is amazing. She feels so good.—But her perfume.—I just can't.

"You're handling yourself nicely. You're a veteran at this, huh?"

"That's one way of putting it."

She stops a second and smiles mischievously. And she digs her hips on me. After a minute of this, the warmth of her legs and the rhythm of her hips affects me. And damn it. A bit of a grunt escapes me.

"Ah," she exhales, "I like the sound of that."

And she continues like this, getting carried away and going well beyond anything I had paid for.

"Hey," she breathes on my neck. "Are you having fun?"

"I am," I lie. Because she feels good. But her perfume smells disgusting. And because my head hurts.

"You sure?" She insists a bit forcefully, sliding her hands up my thighs. "You don't seem too happy."

Two knocks at the door cut my attention.

But Bunny holds my jaw and turns me to her again. "You don't think I'm pretty?" And she takes one of my hands, pressing it to her bare breast now.

This really is a point of pride for her after all. That a man wouldn't fully respond to her, she's really offended. In any other occasion, I'm sure I'd fulfill whatever her ego required to be satisfied. But the pain in my head just keeps getting sharper and I don't have the mind for this right now. Not for her.

But whatever my discomfort, I feel at least capable enough to play this out in my favor.

I sit up and make it so that our line of sight meets at equal height for the first time. "That's hardly the case," I explain, moving my hand back and forth over her breast. "I'm just trying not to get carried away."

She clicks her tongue with a smirk plastered across her face. "I'm giving you a treat, so just accept it and don't worry about that."

"Then," I say quietly, my thumb running over the center of her breast, "can I ask you for a favor?"

Bunny bites her lip, grinning. She wraps her arms around my neck and leans forward, whispering in my ear, "For the right price."

"I'm sure I can arrange something," I reply holding her hips.

She hugs me tighter, this time so close that I feel her breath when she chuckles. It's the scent of sweet cigarettes and sweet alcohol.

But three slow knocks on the door change her mood in an instant. She sits back and surveys the door, pouting, "That fucking bastard." She remains on my lap, thinking for a few seconds before she addresses me again. "The back door. Let's finish this after closing."

She stands up slowly but gathers herself quickly. Just as she's ready to leave, her name is called at the door. This time, Bunny is absolutely cross. "Shut up already! I get it!"

With some distance between us, I'm able to breathe a little better and think a bit more clearly. The back door is fine, but if I can get her away from this place, the better it'll be for me.

Before she has a chance to open the door, I ask, "You're fine with the rain?"

This much brings her mind back and she smiles at me, "We'll figure something out later. Be there at three, okay? And you better not stand me up."

"I won't." I reply.

"And don't forget your wallet."

I smirk, "No, I won't forget that either."

I tip Bunny again—to really get on her good side—before leaving the room. Then, I stop by the restroom to rearrange myself.

I look a mess. The collar of my shirt is stained with Bunny's bright pink lipstick. And I can't get rid of either her glitter or the hazy smell of her perfume.

I feel horrible, too. I wash my face and close my eyes. But the sharpness in my head is severe enough that this doesn't help any. My mind is blurry and I nearly forget to return my gun from my ankle to 2 o'clock.

There's only about an hour left before I meet with Bunny again. Except. I don't think I can take another minute of being here. So I head out, stopping under the awning of a nearby shop before proceeding too far.

The rain is falling quietly but steadily. I watch, wondering what it is I should do. The only place I can think of being is with Faye. —But I don't want to see her. Or rather, I don't want her to see me...Still. She's the only person I feel I could be next to right now. I might regret it once we're face to face, but for the time being, I don't question it.

I'm not sure how I manage to make my way to her. It's surreal to realize I'm suddenly standing in front of her.

"Did you have fun?"

"My head is killing me." It's a reflexive response, and I don't realize I've answered until I'm seated next to her.

She stares at me. "I have the umbrellas. You should've told me to pick you up." She turns away. But not a second later, she's holding my face, wiping the rain from my forehead.

I don't even try to conceal it. I let my head rest on her hands, closing my eyes as her fingers slide over my forehead.

"Your temperature seems fine," she says.

But her tone is a bit too concerned for my liking.

I smirk and meet her gaze, "Maybe I drank too much."

She tugs my hair, "If it's something like that, say so first, idiot."

I try to laugh, but it hurts. "I'm being serious."

She crosses her arms and sits back. "So which is it?"

"I don't know," I say. "It feels weird."

"Well, why are you walking in the rain—"

"No," I interrupt her. "Even before that."

We become quiet. Really, the whole place is quiet. There aren't many people here. Only a hint of smoke. And there's a nice hum of noises. A soft muttering and smooth jazz. It's dimly lit, just enough to be comfortable.

"I feel better here," I say in all honesty. "The other place is a wreck."

"Did you drink much?"

"Just three."

Faye chuckles, "Bottles or drinks?"

I don't know why but I laugh and it makes my temples hurt. I have to pause before speaking. "Who in the world have you met that could drink like that?"

"Well," Faye says, "a while back, this tiny woman came into Marty's. She finished two tequila bottles before passing out."

"You've met some interesting people, haven't you?"

"Yeah, quite a few," she smiles as she reaches for a packet of sugar. She tears an edge of the packet and asks, "Hey, does drinking coffee help you with headaches?"

"Sometimes."

"You want a drink?" she says putting the packet aside and pushing the cup forward. "I've just gotten a refill so it's not sweet."

"Ah…" I pause. "Yeah, I think I will."

I pick up the cup from the table and take a drink. It's hot and bitter. And surprisingly sobering.

"An indirect kiss!" Faye blurts wearing the ghost of a smirk across her lips.

That makes it hard to swallow. But I exhale and take a second drink.

"What are you..." I mutter, sliding the cup across the table back to her hands.

"Should we head home?"

"I'm supposed to meet Bunny after closing," I say.

"Are you?"

"That's the plan. So, I'll rest a bit and we'll see."

"Here," she says pushing the cup back to me. "The service is slow, so finish this for now."

I do as I'm told and don't make anything out of it. There's seriously something so comfortable about this place that, even while drinking coffee, I begin to feel drowsy. The minutes pass quickly and at some point I must have dozed off. When I'm aware again, there's a second cup of coffee next to Faye and the first has been filled again.

I check the time, "Ah, there's only a few minutes before closing. Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I was going to," she says.

I sit up on the chair and clear my eyes. There is a heavy sensation at the base of my skull, but it doesn't compare to the pain from earlier. "Well, at least I feel better."

"You don't look any better," she says. "Are you sure you don't want to head back? I'll figure something out to deal with Bunny later."

"But if I can get it over with today, you said you'd treat me to something, right?"

She laughs, "We're not going to find anything open at this hour anymore."

"Well, there's always tomorrow." I take a drink of coffee, but it's already cold. I push the cup back farther from me and stand up.

"Are you going now?"

"Yeah."

"Hold on," she says, "I'll walk with you."

Oddly enough, for someone I had been so unsure of going to before, I'm so relieved to know she'll be near this time around.

Faye goes to the bar and calls someone to clear our tab, it had slipped my mind completely. Once she's done, she hands me the red umbrella and we step out of the shop. The rain is falling softly. It's light and hangs in the air, creating a thick blanket of cool fog.

"Ah," Faye mutters, "it's getting worse."

We stand still, for a few seconds dreading and admiring the mist.

"Let's get going," I finally say. And we don't waste any more time.

On our way, we decide on a simple plan that will hopefully help us wrap things up quickly. The gist of it is that I need to move Bunny away from Cherry Pop and her handlers. Faye will follow behind us and, if things turn out right, we'll bring her into custody shortly after. Once we're close, Faye and I stand under the same awning I had used as shelter earlier.

Faye takes the umbrella from my hands. "I'll wait here then."

"Alright," I say, but I don't move an inch.

"I'm only going to wait a bit. No more than fifteen, twenty minutes," she says. "So don't have too much fun."

This bit jolts me awake. Of course she'd know why Bunny would meet with someone after hours. I try to brush her comment aside and place my gun to the usual six o'clock before I step away and continue on to Cherry Pop.

The patrons are streaming out in haphazard bunches, a straggler stumbling out from time to time. Two tall bouncers stand at the entrance, quickly dispersing the crowd when it clogs the door. The pink neon sign flickers off and even the street becomes darker.

I glance at Faye's direction. I can hardly make out the silhouette of her body, but the burning end of her cigarette helps me find her easily enough. Looking at her from here, she should be far enough that she won't be bothered by anyone.

I walk quickly, but when I get to the back door, no one is there. I wait for a few minutes and check the time. It's strange though. Not only Bunny, but absolutely no one comes through the door.

After ten minutes, I step back and look around. Did I get here too late? Did I miss her?...Considering the night, this is likely my luck.

I lean on the wall and close my eyes. I should've taken Faye's word and gone back with her earlier. My head still feels so heavy anyway. I could be resting. Forget Bunny or whatever. Right now, I really want to be asleep. But in the midst of thinking this, I hear the back gate open and I turn to find Bunny's long legs carrying her outside.

"Hey!" she says so happily it irks me, "You did come. D'you have a smoke?"

Having been with Faye, I'd forgotten how much energy it takes me to deal with Bunny. I curse under my breath. Why did I put myself in this situation again?...Ah, that's so typical of me. Going back and forth on things like that.

"You want one?" I ask, well-aware of the answer.

"Why do you think I asked?" She giggles. "Come over here, you can hardly feel the rain here. Come over here!"

But I'm trying to get her away from Cherry Pop, it won't do any good to join her. "It's just a light sprinkle," I say.

"I know! But I hate it." She pouts, "My makeup will get ugly that way, ya know!"

As Bunny says this, I notice a slight slur to her voice. If she's a complacent drunk, that could help me get her way from Cherry Pop. But her mannerisms as she wipes her face make it obvious she's likely to be more unreasonable to deal with than before. So against my better judgement, I walk under the recessed door. Standing next to her, it's clear that you can hardly feel the rain or mist here.

"See," she smiles, "it's better here." But she's already rummaging through my coat pockets. Rather than my cigarettes, she finds my wallet first. She laughs sheepishly, putting my wallet back in place, "Well, you'll need that in a bit, too."

Bunny doesn't stop. She just continues her haphazard search through my clothes. I feel one of her hands reaching towards my back and I take her wrists and pull her hands away. I absolutely do not want her to know I'm armed.

She looks up at me and moves closer, "Should we do it now, then?"

In that instant, the scent of her perfume, and the liquor, and the smoke sticks to me again. And the weight that had been resting at the back of my skull expands, filling my head with a hot sharpness that darkens my eyesight for a split second.

"...No cigarette, then?" I manage to speak.

"Ah, you're right!" And she resumes digging through my pockets.

"Wait," I tell her a little too sharply. But Bunny is distracted enough that she doesn't seem to mind or notice.

I pull the pack and lighter from a pocket she'd already checked. I hand her a cigarette and take one for myself. I hold a light for her, but Bunny's suddenly overcome with a fit of laughter.

"What's with this? Me! I'm supposed to be servicing you."

I turn the light off. "Should we do that then?"

"Why be like that!" Bunny whines, "Let's take it easy. I'll take care of you in a bit." I hold the light for her again and she takes a long, deep drag. "Ah," she exhales. "I'll take really good care of you."

I follow suit and light a cigarette for myself. But when I take a drag, it's outright disgusting. I thought the taste would help, but the smoke makes my stomach turn and I have to hold the cigarette away from me.

"What is it?" Bunny asks.

A migraine? That hadn't happened to me in a good while.

"Nothing much," I reply. "Should we go find a place?"

Bunny laughs, "Oh, you're in a hurry after all! Then, here is fine! Here is fine!"

"You say that, but I've got to find a vacant room anyway." I smile at her, "I don't want to wind up sleeping on the street. Not with that storm coming in."

"Ah, that's right! You're passing by. Let's go then! Let's go! I'll help you find a place." She pulls me forward a step and stops. "Wait. My purse. I need my purse."

She releases my arm and heads for the door. But as she reaches for the handle, the door swings open. It's the same square-faced handler from earlier, except this time he's accompanied by two more, both taller than himself.

"Where the fuck did you get yourself to?"

"Oh, fuck off Carl!" Bunny snaps, "I'm done for the day."

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Can't ya see? I'm having a smoke."

And for the first time her handler notices me. His eyebrows knit together and he spits aside. He doesn't say anything to me. He turns back to Bunny and says, "Roman's...uh...made it back. He wants to see you at the house."

Bunny throws her arms around Carl and kisses his cheek. "You're not lying to me, are you, you dirty bastard?"

To say she becomes ecstatic is an understatement. Even the two other handlers have a hard time keeping a straight face.

Carl pushes her away, "Hurry up. A car is waiting for you at the front."

Bunny dashes forward.

She's halfway through the door when stops and turns around. "Listen," she says to me quickly. "Go to Thelma's place. They'll take good care of you there."

And then she's gone.

The two tall handlers follow after her, but Carl stays behind. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

I hold my cigarette up.

"Like hell you are." He spits again and closes the door behind him.

I stare at the door, expecting, or rather hoping, it to open and for Bunny to come right back out again. But after five minutes or so, nothing changes. And I guess that's the end of that.

I drop the cigarette in the receptacle and lean back on the wall. I slide down until I can crouch and close my eyes. There's a piercing fog collapsing upon itself, growing heavier and heavier, beating against the interior of my skull.

I take a deep breath and stand up. But I move too quickly and my sight becomes hazy. I lean against the wall again, gazing upwards to the murky, night sky as I wait for my sight to stabilize again.

It really is a migraine. And one hell of migraine at that.

The stench of Bunny's perfume is entrenched at the base of my throat, choking me, and I can hardly breathe even while being in the open air. I walk away slowly, tracing the exterior of the building with my fingertips for guidance—just in case I move too quickly and my sight betrays me again.

Eventually, I make my way to the front of Cherry Pop and I look towards the awning under which Faye should be. I don't see her silhouette nor do I see the burning end of her cigarette. But right now, my sight is questionable at best, so I just keep moving forward.

Except, my arm is pulled back and I'm stopped mid-step. I turn around quickly, causing my mind to draw a blank in the the movement of it.

"Hey! Where are you going, you idiot."

I look over my shoulder, "Ah, I didn't see you there."

Faye peers at me from under the gaudy, polka-dotted umbrella. She clicks her tongue and releases me, "And obviously you didn't hear me either."

"No," I reply, turning to face her, "guess not…"

"What happened?"

"She went to meet Roman," I say. "You heard of him? And then something about Thelma's."

"What?"

"Bounty got away," I clarify. "Her handlers came looking for her. So, that's that. She came to the front. Did you see her?"

"No, I wasn't looking for her.—But, what's with you? You look worse than before."

"Ah," I exhale.

"Headache came back."

"Well..." I hesitate. There's really nothing she can do. And there's definitely nothing she should feel obligated to do. But, the pain is too much that I could hide it from her anyway. "...a migraine."

Faye takes a second to reply. "Let's take a cab back."

"Yeah, let's do that..."

She holds my arm and I allow her to lead me without a word.

After a few blocks, the rain picks up and I'm also forced to open the red umbrella. The sleeve of my shirt gets wet and my hair becomes damp. Thankfully though, we manage to reach a line of cabs before the rain really picks up.

"You guys going up north?" the driver asks when we're seated.

"No," Faye answers. "Southeast, Willow and 86th."

"Ah, good," he says strapping on his seatbelt. "It's flooding up by 25th. Can only get so far as 30th or so. "

"Already?"

"You bet. We've got orders to stop running by noon. But if this keeps up, it'll have to be much sooner."

"Then," Faye asks, "on our way, is there a pharmacy open?"

I touch her arm to get her attention.

"Let's get some medicine while we can." She takes my hand away from her arm and crosses it over my body. "Sleep for now, that helped last time."

As she finishes this, her voice is just above a whisper. So, when the driver replies, he uses a similar tone.

"There's a 24/7 one five minutes from here. It's north though, so you'll be going 'round a bit."

"That's fine," Faye says. "Let's do that."

The driver turns around on his seat and pulls out of the parking spot and into the streets. The rain is steadily pouring and I can hear the wipers strain to clear the windshield. Faye doesn't say anything and neither does the driver. The sound of the wheels pushing through the wet asphalt, the raindrops on the roof. It makes it easy for me to close my eyes and relax. I can't quite fall asleep, but it's nice enough that I can breathe easily and reduce the strain.

When we arrive at the pharmacy, the rain has dwindled down to a drizzle again. The cab parks right at the entrance and turns on the hazards just as Faye rushes into the store.

The lights of the pharmacy entrance are a bright white. I stir, trying to hide my vision from the brightness, but here it's really impossible. The lights of the parking lot are also on, the place is well lit, and no matter if I turn left or right, I can't avoid them. I can't shield myself from them.

A shooting pain cuts across my forehead and clings to my left temple. I sit up and hold my head. I remain still, hoping the sting will eventually fade. But instead, I feel it persistently clinging to my skull. And I feel the tears building up in my eyes.

"You alright," the driver asks.

The answer is obviously no, but I can't respond.

"If you're gonna throw up, better open the door."

I cover my eyes and take deep breaths. As I do this, I feel the pain wave and carry through the rest of my skull. And slowly, steadily, it dissipates and I sigh in relief.

"You'll be fine," the driver says. "You've got someone taking good care of you."

I nod. But now I can feel the same sharpness stringing around my head, squeezing my skull so tightly I think it'll shatter and explode. I bend forward, throwing my arms over my head. Somehow expecting this to keep me together.

It feels like an infinity waiting. But just as I think I'll break, the door of the cab opens and Faye is next to me again. She holds my shoulders, guiding me to sit up. She slides her hand on my forehead and clears my eyes.

I try to see her face, to understand just what it is she's thinking. Because I hate it. That this is something she has to deal with. That I'm letting her see me in pain like this again. That I can't even keep my eyes dry. I hate it so much.

But the pain keeps distorting my vision and I can't focus enough. And I have to rely on the steadiness of her hands and her voice to believe she's alright.

Faye places a bottle of water on my hands. She touches my shoulder and I look up to her. "Just a second," she says. She tears open the packaging and quickly dispenses two pills on her palm. "Here," she says lifting her hand to my lips. I push her hand closer and tilt my head back to take them. "Be sure to finish the water."

Once the cab pulls away from the pharmacy, the driver takes an arterial road and stops at a red light. The sudden stillness makes me reflexively look outside the window. The street is lined with lamps. Their light is a dull yellow and it hardly affects me. But once we're in motion again the continuous shift from dark to light makes my stomach uneasy. I close my eyes and lean back on the seat, facing away from the window.

"You okay?" Faye asks holding my wrist.

I mumble, "I just can't stand these lights."

I feel her fingertips on my face and I open my eyes as quickly as possible. Faye looks away then, but she slides her hand over my jaw and guides me to her shoulder. "We'll be there soon," she says.

Being this close to Faye, I can smell the rain on her skin and her hair. As she breathes, I feel the subtle movements of her body.—And I don't care.—I shift closer to her. I turn my face towards her and nuzzle even closer still, hiding my sight on the nape of her neck. I hear and I feel Faye inhale sharply. But she doesn't push me away.

"You'll be alright," Faye whispers. Speaking softly, so only I can hear her.

The cool of her skin. The steadiness of her breathing. The ease of being with her...I turn my hand so that hers leaves my wrist and rests on my palm. And I nod, holding her hand firmly.

* * * Ch. 15 End, Continued in Chapter 16 * * *

Thank you all for your continued support and reviews!

- NonMetallicMetal