Chapter 5: got a hundred million reasons to walk away.
"He's perfectly harmless, I've known him for years. I needed someone to look after—"
"We don't need an overgrown, scary-as-all-hell babysitter, Josh," I find myself saying as I stand there at the kitchen island, glaring at him yet still trying to hide the fact I was. "You have Jesse or Harvey or Raf tailing us wherever we go, and now this? In our own home? How are you going to explain this to Emma and Max?"
"The same way I'm explaining it to you," he turns around, shutting the oven as he looks at me. "It's for your own safety. Jack is going to be outside at all times. I'm sorry he scared you, and sure, I should have mentioned it, but I didn't think he'd get here that quick."
"Well, he did," I respond. "And your sister drew a photo of him just standing there staring at her."
"Did he do anything to scare her?"
"No, but—!"
"But nothing," he interrupts. His gaze pierces through me, his mouth becoming clenched with the telltale sign of how over this conversation he was. "There's going to be a lot more nights of me not being home," he explains. "I need to know you three are safe at all times. Don't argue with me on this, no more questions."
With that, he walks past me and into the living room where his brother and sister are playing and watching TV.
He was so incredibly adamant when he got like this, so fucking scary to backtalk to. I was never sure which side of him I was getting on any given day, so I knew I couldn't keep harping on about this. He'd made it so final.
It didn't keep me from still questioning why he would hire another security detail and this time for the house, around our own home. It was obvious though that whatever he was doing, he was getting deeper and deeper involved in it. It scared me more than it had a few years back when he started to have his men following close behind me wherever I went.
Mostly because back then we didn't have Emma and Max.
About a year ago, Josh had received news that his mother had been alive and dead all at the same time. That was when Jesse had shown up on our doorstep with Josh's half-brother and sister, siblings he had never known he'd had until then.
I'd only heard passing stories from Josh on what happened to his parents but from what I did know, he'd had a very difficult childhood and was passed from home to home until he landed with an aunt who kept him. I'd always assumed his parents had died when he was very young; he never liked talking about either of them. But the day Max and Emma had shown up, we both found out that his mother had been living in the slums of New York City with the 2 of them. From what I understood, she, Athena, had died in a hospital, but not before giving staff the name of her only son.
Even after so many years, Josh continued to remain such a mystery to me.
It was my fault for getting so caught up in this life with him. He'd warned me plenty of times. Following everything that had happened on my 17th birthday, I was the one who would corner him wherever I could and make out with him. He'd often end up being pissed about it afterward, but amidst the sessions, I knew he wanted it as much as I did.
I spent all my life up until that point staying away from boys, never even having a single crush or urge to fool around with anyone, but the moment I'd laid my eyes on him that very first time at my brother's Halloween party, I'd become entirely consumed.
I begged and pleaded with Josh to take things further, but he often left me in a pool of my own tears, sexually frustrated, angry, just an utter mess. He'd insist he was bad news for me, that being with him would only hinder the life he knew my parents wanted for me. The life that I wanted for me. I didn't care about any of it, I just knew I craved him. My mind and body couldn't be reasoned with by that point and try as he might, every attempt to thwart my lips, every resistance to my touch, every avoidance to not be left alone with me, it all just made me want him that much more.
The day after my 17th birthday, Josh had crawled through my window, scaring the living daylights out of me. He brought me this beautiful necklace and said that he didn't know how to get it to me and that it would have been inappropriate of him to do so that late at night, showing up on my doorstep with my parents home.
I didn't know what to say because I couldn't understand how he could give me something like that but still not want to be with me. I'd ended up sobbing in his arms, pleading with him to understand, to just see how good we'd be together, that I was past the point of being in love with him. He again told me he was bad for me and that there wasn't any way he'd let me ruin my life by being with him because he wanted more for me. I insisted he was only saying all that because he was scared of my brother, or what my parents would think. Or maybe even just the age thing.
He laughed at my reasonings, saying I had no clue about him, his life, or what he did.
When I tried to pry, he shut me down and wished me a Happy Birthday again. Then he just climbed out of my window and disappeared once more.
I didn't stop trying though.
I kept luring him into some dark corner of the house or sneaking to the pizza place near the Rochester Police headquarters in the dead of the night and convincing him to meet me out there. I kept making out with him and he kept trying to resist me. He always ended it right as things would get hot and heavy. Even when I'd told him that I wanted him to be my first, he had smirked and shaken his head, saying I was far too innocent, fragile, sweet, whatever for him to "defile" me like that.
He'd actually used that word.
I asked him why he was so convinced he was bad for me. The only thing he'd replied with was that I should trust him and hope that I'd never know why.
It wasn't until that June, after constant begging and pleading, only a hundred make-out sessions later, did Josh finally come around. I still wasn't sure what had happened the night before because he seemed so different. When he climbed into my window in the early hours of the morning on the 16th, he had crawled directly into my bed and held me. I kept asking if he was okay, but he wouldn't say anything at first.
It was the first night he'd scared me.
Despite that, I had still willingly dived in headfirst.
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
"Hey, what it is? What's wrong?" My hand comes up to cup his cheek. His face is pressed against mine, resting in the crook of my neck as he held me close into his body.
"Mmmmmmm…"
"Is everything okay?"
"Is now."
"Your voice sounds so gravelly… Are you feeling okay?" I slightly turn my face until my lips meet his cheek. I can hardly see him; the only light source in the bedroom was the moon pouring in. I reach over to my nightstand, feeling for the switch.
"No, don't—!"
Light floods the bedroom as he scrambles to turn it back off, engulfing everything in darkness again. With a confused look on my face, I turn the light back on as he lets out an exasperated sigh. I look over at him and his hood is partially covering his face from view. I peek down a little and gasp, my hand coming up to my mouth.
"It's not as bad as it looks," he claims, hands held out. "Don't freak out!"
"Jace, I— Uhm…"
I had no words.
With shaky hands, I reach over and push the hood of his sweatshirt down as he lets out another sigh. I nervously swallow as I watch him blink, wondering how the stark red in his eye seemed to move around behind the thin film of his cornea. It looked like it would spill out and start flowing like tears down his freshly swollen and scraped face. My eyes scan over the cuts here and there before settling onto the bit of blood at the hem of his sweatshirt. It didn't appear like it was his, mostly because there was an imprint around the soaked bit, as if he'd held someone against him as they bled. I don't linger too long because soon I'm distracted again by the look of his knuckles.
I take both of his hands into my own, gazing up at him before my eyes dart back down. I examine the deep cuts, the bruises forming, the intense redness of the skin.
"What happened?"
"Nothing," he leans closer, snatching his hands away. "It's nothing you need to worry about."
"Newsflash, Tyler Durden, you came to me," I snap. "Tell me what the hell happened."
"Why can't you let this go?"
"Because your eye is literally fucking bleeding, Jace."
"Keep your voice down," he hisses. "You don't need to know, just lay back—"
"No, you look like you need emergency atten—!"
"What'd I say?" He glares at me. "Keep your voice down! It's not as bad as it looks, and no, I don't need emergency attention." His eyes narrow as he rasps, "Tell me right now whether I can crash here for the night. Or should I just go?"
I felt like he had slapped me.
"You'd rather leave than tell me why you look like you've literally spent the night at a Fight Club?" I felt hurt, and I realized it came through my voice because within an instant the coldness behind his eyes dissipates as he crawls closer, shaking his head.
"I did get into a fight," he clarifies. "There. That's all you need to know. Just please drop it. I can't go home so I came straight here. Now can I stay?"
I nod, chewing the hell out of my bottom lip before whispering, "Go wash up though. I don't wanna know whose blood that is all over you. I can grab you some clean clothes, just…please go shower."
I tell him I'll be right back as I sneak out of my bedroom and over to the laundry room. I rummage through my dad's pile of clean laundry, careful not to mess it up. I grab a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt before walking towards the exit. I also take a towel I'd spotted while on my way out.
Back in my bedroom, I can hear the shower going in the conjoined washroom. I contemplate just leaving his clothes here and maybe hanging the towel over the door. Then I convince myself I might as well place everything in the bathroom. As I creep in, the steam fills the air, and I can barely make him out in the thickness of it. I place the clothes and towel on the counter, biting my lip as he hums.
It's a few seconds before I realize what it is he's humming.
My Girl.
I can't help the grin that overtakes my face and before I can stop myself or even recognize what I was doing, I'm stripping and walking towards the billowing clouds of steams. I open the shower door and walk in just as he turns around, his mouth opening to surely protest.
My finger comes up to his lips as I wrap the other arm around his waist before softly saying, "You finished the movie."
His eyes study me, trying to remain neutral but then he flashes me that lopsided grin I was so very enamored by. He nods, the tension releasing in his body as he shrugs, "I had to. You really built it up."
I can't stop grinning as I rest my head on his chest. I can feel how rigid his whole body becomes for a moment and as I continued to hold him, he relaxes again, placing his hands around me and resting his cheek on the top of his head.
"Can you please never scare me like that again?" My voice comes out slightly stammering. "I don't care what happens, who said what, whether you were provoked or not, I just— Please." I'm begging by this point. "Don't ever show up like this again."
It's a few moments before he says anything at all, and when he does, it's so soft I almost miss it, "You really love me, huh?"
"You have no idea," it's all I can respond with because the tears brim my eyes, and my throat closes up as I look back at him.
His facial expression softens as he bends down, kissing my lips, murmuring against them, "I don't want you getting hurt."
"I don't care."
"You have no idea how dangerous things can get—!"
"I don't care!"
"You can't ask questions, you can't know—!"
"Then I won't," I insist, reaching up on the tips of my toes to kiss him.
My fingers grab handfuls of his hair as he slightly pulls his face away from me, stating, "If you're with me, you're with me for life, Ali. There's no going back. No changing your mind. I'd at least think about it—"
"No," I reply, "because I've never felt for anyone the way I feel about you. I love you. I want to be with you. I know I'd never be able to replicate these feelings for anyone else or anything else. I love you, Josh. I want you. Only you."
My lips come crashing back to his as his fingers dig into my hips and he's panting into my mouth, shoving me against the wall of the shower. I mewl against his lips, that sudden surge of heat hitting me right between the legs, creeping into my stomach.
As he retreats for a moment, he smirks, "You know this is the first time we've seen each other naked?"
"Mhmmm," I mumble back, tugging him back to my lips as my breathing increases and I'm soon finding my fingers exploring every inch of his skin.
They creep lower and he grabs me by the wrists, rasping, "No." He looks sternly into my eyes as I'm sure the desperation etched into my features openly greets him. He shakes his head as he whispers, "Not like this. Not now. Not here."
"But I want you—"
"And I want you…but not here. Not like this." He offers me a warm smile as he leans down to peck my lips, muttering, "If we're together, I'm doing this right. So long as you're absolutely sure about it. Together, I mean…" He interlaces our fingers as I chuckled, kissing him again.
"I wasn't the one constantly blowing you off, so what do you think?"
"I think…" He captures my lips again, smiling against them. "I think I'd like to hear you say it."
"I want you," I whisper, "I wanna be yours."
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
If you'd only known then how deadly of a mistake you were making.
The doorbell chimes, taking me away from the thoughts. I look towards the direction of the sound as I hear Josh yell out, "Can you get that?"
I make my way out from the kitchen and to the front door as the bell rings again. I unlock it and pull it back to reveal the FedEx driver.
"Oh, hey, Sharif," I greet him as he nods at me, smiling, holding out his device.
"Just need a signature from you today," he says, passing the device over to me. I take it and begin signing as I watch him turn around and grab the dolly at the bottom of the 3 steps. He starts lugging it up, one at a time, slowly. "Where can I put this? Do you want it inside? It's quite heavy."
"Uhm, I'm not sure," I reply as he pulls the dolly to the top. "Does it say who it's from?"
Sharif looks around the box and then points out the shipping sticker, "Take a look."
Rafael Marin.
"Josh," I call out, turning to the living room entrance.
"Yeah?"
"Package!"
I hear the sound of him making his way out and then he looks from me to Sharif. As he gets near and eyes the box on the dolly, he asks, "Raf?"
"Yeah."
"Ah, okay," he responds, the features of his face seeming to stretch in displeasure. Whatever it was that Rafael had ordered to our address, clearly Josh wasn't pleased with it. He leans down to confirm what's written on the shipping sticker, before he instructs, "You can just leave it here. Out of the way though, please."
Sharif obliges and lugs the container to the side, right behind the porch railing. He tugs out the dolly from beneath and then looks over at me, "Done?"
I nod and hand back the device as he waves goodbye and heads back down the pathway until he disappears behind the hedges, out of view. I turn to look at Josh, but he's already walking toward the living room, speaking in what I assumed he thought was a hushed tone into the phone. But I catch every word.
"You used your real fucking name? Are you new at this? Of course you didn't think!" He hisses into the microphone, a scowl sweeping over his lips as he snatches his wallet and keys off the side table outside the living room. "Get Jesse and Harvey down here. Now." He hangs up and then turns to me, muttering, "Don't wait up. I've got some work to do."
"What about the fireworks? You promised Emma and Max you'd be here for the Fourth of July—"
"Take them," he commands, walking back over to me and opening the mirrored closet. I watch as he grabs his jacket and shoes. He slips his feet into them, seating himself on the ottoman he slid out from under the side table. He looks up as he ties the laces, "Take the G-Wagon, make a day of it. Jack's out back. He'll stay close behind. Get them ice cream, dinner, whatever, then come straight home."
"Josh—!"
"Nothing else," he shakes his head, mouth resting clenched again.
"It won't even be worth it," I explain. "They wanted to celebrate with you. You did the same thing to them last year."
"They're kids," he spits, eyes boring into me, "they'll be fine." He then gets up, straightening his tie before he dons the suit jacket. "No mischief." He eyes me from the mirror, running his palm down the front of his shirt. "I mean it, Ali." He then turns around, his gaze affixed to me while he fixes the cuffs of his shirt. "Jack's not here to simply protect you."
"You think I don't know that?" I scoff, shooting him a sarcastic smile, trying to maintain my composure. "Besides, I wouldn't do that. Not to them."
Josh returns my smile, the malice in his eyes evident as he leans close, "Only to me though…right?" His eyes fall from mine down to my lips as he steps closer, whispering, "Don't forget; you belong to me…" His voice fades as his lips press against mine before he walks around me, adding, "Don't wait up."
With that, the door shuts after him.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
fastmelodic
fastmelodic title credit: a million reasons, lady gaga
———————————————————————
This one's shorter than the last update, maybe 1000 words less? Either way, I hope it was a good one!
Please comment and let me know what you thought! I'd really appreciate it. <3
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone