“Use me,” I begged. “Just do whatever you want. Take it all,” I panted breathlessly.

Bobby grunted as he scooped me off the floor and threw me on the bed. The pain had been stripped away. I could feel nothing, I could hear nothing, but Bobby.

He ripped his pants open savagely. Underneath he was bare. Like an animal hidden under cloth. His tight, angry erection peaked out from the pelt of hair that climbed up faintly to the lower part of his abdomen. Where faint lines beckoned the eyes to look below. I remember catching glimpses of those muscles peeking out from his swim trunks, when we were teens, and the uncomfortable feeling they solicited. They still gave me that sensation, a swirling in the pit of my stomach that roused an awakening through my core.

The spotlight of the upturned lamp casted behind him, like a fallen angel—dark, glowing with sweat, heaving, hungry, lustful.

This would not be long. This was a man establishing his territory. This was animal. This was primal.

He climbed on top of me, and guided himself into the warm clench of my entrance. We both let out careless groans as I tensed around his steely hardness.

Bobby thrust into me hard, almost angrily, as I held on, wailing as he impaled me over and over. But I welcomed the attack. I wanted him to let out the angst and confusion I knew lived in the pit of his belly. All the loss, the death, the guilt, the missed opportunities. Wounds he had a way of making look like they were nothing. But they were something. I knew Bobby felt every bite, every sting, maybe even more than most others could.

Bobby could be gentle, but he could also be firm. That's what I loved about him. He was fluid. He stepped up when he needed to. He did the things that hurt when he had to. But being the person who carries the burden takes its toll. And I wanted to be the one to take the pain away, even if it was just for a few minutes.

It felt too good, and it only took a few thrusts before Bobby was growling curses in my ear, his body going rigid in my arms as he grunted. As he claimed me once and for all.

We crammed into the dingy motel shower. Our spirits had lightened. The conflict still existed, but now we had a life to look forward to. One that wasn't an unending apology for feelings we couldn't help.

We stepped under the surprisingly strong stream of water together, washing away the blood and sweat.

“How's your head feeling?” Bobby asked.

“A lot better, thanks to your medicine,” I smirked.

“Tomorrow, on our way out, we should stop somewhere to check it out. Just in case.”

“If it'll make you stop asking me to, then fine.” I grabbed the teeny bar of motel soap and lathered it in my hands, tracing sweeping circles along his chest. “Are you going to turn Rory in tomorrow, or was that an empty threat?”

“I don't know, Lil,” he rued. “I don't know what's right anymore. I just hope he does it himself so I don't have to be in that position. Or you.”

“I know it's the right thing to do but . . . it's Rory.” Despite everything, Rory was still family. We were both raised to protect family at all costs.

“Yeah. I know,” Bobby said soberly. “How are you feeling about Barbie? I know what she did was terrible, but for all her faults . . . you were friends.”

I tried to go to that place inside of myself, to remember Barbie as a woman with children who like all of us, was sometimes good, sometimes bad. But my emotional energy had been exhausted and I couldn't summon her. Only the idea of her. I didn't think she did what she did to hurt me. Barbie was many things, but mean-spirited wasn't one of them. I think she was just looking for a way out of her perfect hell as so many of us were at the time. “It doesn't feel real. I don't know how I feel about her right now. But I never wanted her to die. And I know Rory didn't either.”

“Of course not. But he left her there. I've seen people die—a lot of people. It's hard to leave someone to die. I'm not sure it was as hard for him as it should have been. But, God, I hope it was.”

I carved a heart shape into the suds on Bobby's chest. “Could we not talk about this all for while? I just want to be here with you. Make this room is our bubble.”

He smiled. “Of course, beautiful.”

Bobby massaged shampoo onto my scalp as I swatted away the paper-thin curtain that insisted on clinging to us.

“That's what happens when you stay in these world-class accommodations,” he joked.

“And what in the hell is that?” I pointed to a burnt orange stain at the base of the curtain.

“Probably blood,” he offered casually.

“What?” I yelled, flicking my hands at the curtain to keep it away.

“I'm kidding! I'm kidding!” he shouted through laughter. “My guess is rust got on it somehow, probably from rubbing up on the drain. Or blood.”

“I think it's time for us to get out of this gorgeous bath,” I proclaimed, flinging the curtain to the side. We stepped out, dripping wet, and dried ourselves. I put on his shirt and he stayed naked, which I did not protest to one bit. We laid on the bed together.

“So what are we going to do next?” I asked.

“I still want to drive you out west. We can make stops along the way. Then . . . we'll go up and down the coast. Then wherever the wind takes us. Asia or South America maybe.”

“Wow, so much adventure,” I exclaimed. My stomach grumbled astonishingly loud. I gripped my torso and laughed out of embarrassment.

“I take it you're hungry?” Bobby asked sarcastically.

“Would you believe me at this point if I said I wasn't?”

“Good point.” He rose from the bed. “Well, you are in luck, Lil, because not only does this motel include accommodations such as violent shower curtains and possible murder scenes, but I have some bread and peanut butter.

I crawled over to the end of the bed where he stood. “Oh my god,” I heaved. “Please feed me!”

Bobby pulled out a nearly finished loaf of bread from his bag and a jar of peanut butter. He grabbed tissue paper and laid it on the table using it as a surface to prepare my sandwich.

“Here ya' go, ma' lady,” he said, bowing as he handed it to me. I snatched it out of his hand and took two huge bites. “Do you wan bite?” I cackled as crumbs spilled out of my mouth. “Ma mouf is stuck on da peanut butt-er.”

“No.” He winked. “You feast. I'll polish off the jar. And I'll get a Coke at the vending machine so you can swallow again.”

A minute later he returned with the drink, turned on the TV and smacked it on its side a few times until a decent picture came in. Then he plopped next to me onto the hard mattress.

I rested my head on his shoulder taking another bite. “Will it alway be like dis?” I asked through peanut butter mouth.

He turned to look at me. “If this doesn't make you happy. If you want to settle down at a—”

“No,” I smiled. “Dis is perfeck.”

I stirred when Bobby turned and wrapped his arms around me from behind. The shades were drawn in the room and I had no idea what time it was. I turned to face him and his eyes were shut, but then one popped open playfully.

“Morning, I think,” I groaned through a yawn. “Do you know what time it is?”

He reached behind him, feeling for the alarm clock. “It's uhhhh,” he squinted at it for a while as he brought it close to his face. “Eleven . . . seventeen . . . eighteen.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I haven't slept like that since I was a teenager.”

“Me neither. And it's a sauna in here.” I stretched out like a cat, inhaling the scent of Bobby from his shirt. I buried my nose in the collar to get more of it.