Everything changes, nothing perishes
I let the hot water pour over me until the shower runs cold and it’s still not enough, not even close to enough to get rid of what happened here tonight.
Connor. Okay, so my plan hadn’t gone precisely the way I’d imagined, but I had him on my side, didn’t I? That was all that mattered. The bottom line is all that ever mattered in this business.
But then she had to glide back into the picture, which happened to put a big fucking scribble over that nice neat bottom line.
"I didn't come to you, Lindsey. I came for my boy."
I slam my hand uselessly against the tiled wall, gritting my teeth. Time after time, I’d sworn that she’d never make me her doormat again … next time I’d be stronger. Next time I’d think with my head instead of with my heart. Or very possibly my dick.
But all she has to do is smile up at me, grace me with her attention for a few precious seconds, and ladies and gentlemen, it’s Lindsey McDonald: the Human Punching Bag!
I’ve got to get out of here. This place is suffocating me. It only takes a minute to scribble a note for the kid to find when he wakes up.
Connor,
New player on the board. Darla’s back in town and she wants to talk to you.
Find her before she finds you, make her talk on your terms. Don’t do anything stupid.
~L
I leave the note under a bottle of Aspirin, which I’m pretty damn sure he’s going to need, before heading out the door. There’s one person in this whole tangled web who I know I can trust, who doesn’t see me as a punching bag or a pawn, but the guy that brought her back from the dead.
I find her in my office, her head resting on her arms and her eyes closed, quiet music drifting from the radio. She must have fallen asleep waiting for me and the picture of innocence she makes in this place leaves me smiling. I cross the room and touch her shoulder gently.
“Tara.”
[Tag Tara]
Connor. Okay, so my plan hadn’t gone precisely the way I’d imagined, but I had him on my side, didn’t I? That was all that mattered. The bottom line is all that ever mattered in this business.
But then she had to glide back into the picture, which happened to put a big fucking scribble over that nice neat bottom line.
"I didn't come to you, Lindsey. I came for my boy."
I slam my hand uselessly against the tiled wall, gritting my teeth. Time after time, I’d sworn that she’d never make me her doormat again … next time I’d be stronger. Next time I’d think with my head instead of with my heart. Or very possibly my dick.
But all she has to do is smile up at me, grace me with her attention for a few precious seconds, and ladies and gentlemen, it’s Lindsey McDonald: the Human Punching Bag!
I’ve got to get out of here. This place is suffocating me. It only takes a minute to scribble a note for the kid to find when he wakes up.
Connor,
New player on the board. Darla’s back in town and she wants to talk to you.
Find her before she finds you, make her talk on your terms. Don’t do anything stupid.
~L
I leave the note under a bottle of Aspirin, which I’m pretty damn sure he’s going to need, before heading out the door. There’s one person in this whole tangled web who I know I can trust, who doesn’t see me as a punching bag or a pawn, but the guy that brought her back from the dead.
I find her in my office, her head resting on her arms and her eyes closed, quiet music drifting from the radio. She must have fallen asleep waiting for me and the picture of innocence she makes in this place leaves me smiling. I cross the room and touch her shoulder gently.
“Tara.”
[Tag Tara]