22. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
F in’s phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.
They pulled themselves upright, Ollie’s arm shifting from around them.
He’d fallen asleep clutching them tight like they might vanish, and the action had wormed into their heart a little more.
They grabbed their phone, only to see an insane amount of notifications on the screen. Panic flared through them.
What the fuck had happened?
Their cheek still ached, but the icing they’d done had taken it down to a dull throb instead of an intense one. Nothing they hadn’t dealt with before. They opened their socials and clicked on the main post that seemed to be generating all the responses.
At first, they didn’t soak in everything stated. Something about Whipped. Hera.
Their name was mentioned.
Fin sat there staring, reading through several times until the gist of the post sank in.
Hera had been the one who posted, and it had gone viral.
She denounced Whipped, said she was cutting ties with them and everyone from there. Said Meg was a bitch who abused her power, that the core group who ran the café were exclusionary and unfair and dangerous .
Fin’s show was canceled.
And the comment that came along with it socked them in the gut.
Finley used me for the chance to get their show featured in my art space. They’re an unsafe person, and not only am I canceling the show, but I’d recommend you think twice before getting involved with them.
Unsafe person.
Fucking unsafe person.
Their stomach dropped. They were going to be sick.
They’d fucking trusted Hera. Enough to play with her, enough to bring such a personal matter as their photography to her.
They swallowed, staring at the words, trying to get them to make sense. Hundreds of comments lay below the post, and Fin skimmed through fast, seeing people agree with Hera, badmouth Whipped, bring up grievances of shit that had happened at public parties they’d hosted.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
They dropped their phone onto the comforter, their hands shaking.
Whipped was the only safe haven they had.
The crew at Whipped were their only family .
Yesterday curdled like sour milk in their stomach, mixing around with the rot that this brought to the surface.
Fuck. They were going to be sick. They surged out of bed and rushed to their bathroom.
Fin kneeled in front of the toilet, the cold tile biting into their knees, and the contents of their stomach spewed out.
Even after it stopped convulsing, that didn’t take away the hollow ache that remained.
In the kink community, reputation was everything.
They’d been careful from the start to be a safe person in the scene.
They’d seen so many of the opposite walking through and leaving destruction in their wake, but it wasn’t until they’d integrated into Meg’s crew, where those casualties were less common.
Where the red flags got tossed out on their asses.
And now they could be one of those red flags tossed out.
If Meg decided Fin was too much of a hazard, they had no one.
Utterly no one.
The world spiraled around them, and the dizziness swept in fast and fierce. They remained on the ground, not moving. Forget their dreams of having a photography show getting dashed. Would Fin even have a job after this? A group of friends?
Usually, once they had a chance to lick their wounds, Whipped was their port in a storm.
It was the place they headed to for comfort, for refuge, for home.
Except now that home was under siege, and they didn’t know where they’d stand. A Dom getting publicly named and shamed wasn’t something easy to bounce back from. Their limbs numbed, their heart thumping so hard it was a shock Ollie hadn’t woken up yet.
Fuck, Ollie .
He just entered the scene, stumbling into new kinks and early days in scenes. If he tethered himself to them, his reputation would be ruined. Their chest wrenched.
They couldn’t do that to him.
He’d been the only one they’d let in after all these years. Fin didn’t know what it was—whether he’d been broken enough for them to understand or that he had the same black humor—but Ollie had worked his way into their heart.
To the point they’d been fantasizing about the impossible.
That they’d wanted to make him theirs beyond just a kink relationship.
Their phone kept buzzing on the tile beside them, an ever-present reminder of their life exploding before them. All the connections they’d made, the people they’d met, the time spent engaging with their community.
Gone up in smoke with a few well-placed words from Hera.
Meg had been right not to trust her.
Bile rose in their throat, their chest spasming.
Fin couldn’t drag Ollie down with them, no matter how much they wanted him with all their might. They weren’t sure where they’d go, but the buzzing inside their veins screamed run, run, run.
They had no home to escape to, and their safe haven had gone up in flames.
But they had a bike and the road.
Fin pushed up from the floor, their breaths coming in a little faster, a little more rapidly. They tiptoed to their dresser on silent feet, careful not to disturb Ollie. He slept soundly, but even with the early hour, he was a morning person, so the chances of him waking were high.
They trembled, a reflex they couldn’t stop, but they managed to slide on their clothes and slip on their sneakers. Fin clutched their phone tight, hating the way it vibrated. They powered it off as if that might stave away their reality.
Finality settled in their bones. They had no idea where they headed, but that didn’t matter. Oblivion nipped at their heels, and they would make it chase them down the highway until they ran out of gas.
Their skin crawled, their nerves rioting, and each shaky breath was a fight.
Their chest felt like someone inflated a balloon inside it, restricting their breath.
The temptation to grab their portfolio of photos and set them on fire grew with intensity, but the digital versions were still in existence.
Maybe they could smash their laptop with a metal baseball bat.
The tug at their heels was strong, rising with a drumbeat.
Ollie lay there on the bed, innocent of the chaos. His dark brown hair drifted across his forehead, all tousled. His thick lashes and pretty mouth were more prominent in sleep, the smooth skin slipping out from the dips of the sheets. Their heart lurched at the sight of him.
Yeah, they’d fucking fallen hard.
They could admit it now because everything else had been stripped away. They had nothing left but a few truths they clutched to.
They were in love with Oliver Hale.
They no longer had a family or home to return to.
And in the wake of those two truths, they couldn’t drag him down with them.
He was so much better than them, deserved so much more.
They couldn’t stay inside this apartment any longer, their skin crawling so fierce they wanted to scrape it off with their nails.
Breathing became a struggle, and all they knew was they needed to get out, out, out.
They stared at him for one last minute, soaking in those beautiful details. Of the man who’d made them believe for a few blessed seconds that they weren’t damaged beyond repair. That despite their past, they could still be loved .
And they turned and walked away.
Fin’s heart lodged in their throat as they slipped on their jacket in the kitchen and snagged up their keys and wallet.
They had no idea what they were running toward, because they had nothing. All they knew was they couldn’t stay. Fin clutched their keys so tight the metal dug into their skin. Even the bite didn’t permeate through the numbness that descended.
At least their shut-off phone wasn’t buzzing with the constant reminder of everything that had blown up in their life.
They trudged down the steps, the thump, thump, thump reverberating through their bones. Just last night, they’d been hopeful despite everything that had gone down with their dad. Having Ollie there to pick up the pieces, being able to rely on someone—fuck, his presence had meant everything.
But time after time, life smacked them with an icy reminder.
They were too broken to keep anyone.
Fin settled on their Ducati, and it rumbled to life beneath them.
It was about the one thing that held a charge, since their hollow heart barely thumped.
Fin sucked in a shaky breath, which was still hard to catch.
They stared at their apartment building for a moment longer, not sure what they were looking for.
Ollie to burst out after them? They’d left him asleep and unaware.
No, no one would be coming for them.
They set off down the road as the truth turned their veins to ice.
No matter how far they ran, they’d never find somewhere to call home.