Lilah

Chapter 5 Nineteen #2

I grab the one labeled 'Peach'. Then I put it back realizing that it's missing some because of the glass I was given. I grab the one beside it, thankfully, it's peach too.

Before I can put it under my shirt or even make a run for it, Grey's pressed up against my back. His arms come around my frame and he takes it from my hands.

"I told you no," he says lowly down at me. He sits it on the counter and begins leading me into the back of the place where no one can see.

He pushed me lightly into the bathroom, following behind me and shutting the door. I'm not even worried anymore, if he wanted to kill me, he would've already done it. Plus, I could take him in a fight.

I remove the napkin from my face and look in the mirror, having to slightly stand on my tippy toes to see myself. Who even makes these tall mirrors?

I cringe at myself. Good heavens, I look like I've been brutally beaten with a baseball bat. Or just elbowed in the face, the same thing.

The pain sets in and I sigh. I turn on the water, putting my hair up to not get it wet. I already look beaten up, I don't want to look like a wet dog on top of that.

Grey just stands there silently, with his eyes on me. What a great help he is.

"Exactly why you should just stay where you belong," he grumbles and I pull away from the water.

I belong wherever I want to belong. CIA headquarters? Dang right. Pimp central? Yep. A bar? Sure, why not?

"How many time are you going to tell me that I shouldn't come here?"

"As many times as it takes to get it through your thick fucking skull," he sneers and I hold back my fists that want to go swinging.

"As many times as it takes," I mimic him, only feeling his glare on the side of my head.

"Go ahead, glare at me all you want. Glare at the girl with a busted lip and broken-in-half-nose," I jump at him to scare him but he doesn't move.

"I will if she's being an immature little shit," he glares harder, stepping up to me, admittedly making me feel smaller.

Big girl britches; activated.

"Well guess what? You're a big crap," bam, suck on that.

He grabs another napkin off the sink and he places it on my nose. I take hold of it and sigh. I thought it had stopped but I guess not.

"Thank you," I say softly.

"So, do you work here?" I question, just to get a conversation going while I try to fix my nose.

"I own it."

Woah, what a big boy he is.

"You didn't seem like the bartender type," I ramble, "I figured you were like security or something because hello, your arms are as big as me. Then I was like, well, maybe he's not. Maybe he's a janitor. But, you didn't seem like a janitor either. Do bars have janitors?"

"Close your mouth," he grumbles and I give him a pretty darn good glare.

"How old are you anyway? Please don't tell me you're fifty. You look young to be fifty but nowadays, who knows. Wait, don't say it," I hold my hand up.

"Let me guess," I look up at him as he stares down at me. I let my eyes fall over all of his features. No gray hairs, that's a good sign. No wrinkles, that's also a good sign. Strong build, that's a wonderful sign.

"Seventy-four."

"Nope, just kidding. I'm gonna say," I pull on my lip, fully noticing how his eyes fall down to my mouth, "twenty-three."

"Twenty-four," he clears his throat. He's in his prime of many years to come, I can see it right in front of me. Hot dang.

"Let me have the moonshine," I stress, "please, it's all I want. I'll give you whatever you want."

He glances at me, his eyes swirling in mischievousness.

"I have this blanket at home, it's really, really soft. It's gray, it reminds me of you. I'll give it to you if you give me the jar of peach moonshine," I admit.

He doesn't look as open to the idea of the blanket as I am.

"What about...oh! What about I give you a free book at Mr. Terrip's store? You forgot to get a book when you went there," I smile brightly up at him.

I'll give you a free lap dance.

Where the heck did that come from?!

I sigh and lean back up against the sink.

Grey's wonderful scent envelops my nose but that hardly does anything at the moment. I keep my eyes locked on his tattooed arm, not looking anywhere else.

Up close, the tattoos are absolutely amazing. His entire arm, as far as I can see, is covered with ink. Just under the bottom of his shirt sleeve, scary, dark figures sit. Grim reaper-like figures are the closest thing I can think of.

They're just dark and deadly. It gives me the shivers.

In the background, it's covered with shading and dark colors that accentuate the figures.

Did Pablo Picasso do these tattoos? Goodness. That tattoo artist should win awards or something.

There's smoke that travels from one of the figures and it wraps all throughout the rest of the tattoos on his arm.

A tree goes up and dead branches spread out along his arm, and the back of it, although I can't see it, I wish I could. Around the tree, crows fly in the air.

The bottom of the tree stops at his wrist where there are roots sticking up and no greenery or bushes at all. Everything's dead.

In the background of the tree, words fill up the rest of his skin. Except for the symbol-like tattoo beside the tree.

I try to read what it says but his arm moves behind me before I can. That brings me back to reality.

With both his arms on either side of me, my heart speeds up.

"Tell me why you want it," he says lowly and I gulp as he stands so close to me.

Why is it now that my brain can't think of anything? Any other time I'd come up with at least something.

His hand moves to rest on my side. It explodes with tingles. Not actually, because that would be like impossible unless I'm like allergic to him or something but, it makes butterflies go off in my stomach.

"I want to get away from everything," I whisper.

Never would I ever become like my parents. I would never take a sip of alcohol after seeing what it does to them.

I want to get away from them. I want to get away from the constant reminder of being the cause of Jake's passing, but I would never actually do that by drinking.

"I want to escape for a minute," I add, not going far into an explanation.

I don't want to go home.

I peek up at him only to see his head cast down at the ground, looking at the floor. His head only stays down for a few seconds before he looks back directly at me. His dark eyes craze the butterflies further.

"You shouldn't be drinking that shit," he grumbles, his eyebrows furrowed into a small glare.

"I know," I reply softly.

His thumb rubs a single circle on my waist before he pulls away.

~~~

"What's your last name?" I question, swinging my feet back and forth while sitting on the counter he oh-so-graciously planted me on.

I hardly know anything about him, and I think it's time I do.

"Kingston," his dark voice travels to me as he looks through the stock of their alcohol for my cherry pie moonshine.

"Mine's Carson," I inform him and he stops, turning back toward me.

"You've told me, Lilah."

Noise reaches my ears and I freeze.

"I think there's a ghost, Grey," I whisper. My training didn't teach me how to defeat ghosts. And Ghostbusters only goes so far.

"How long have you lived here?" I change the subject although still keeping a close watch to my surroundings.

"Why?" his voice turns deeper and I look up to see him glaring darkly at me.

"I just want to know," I shrug, "I want to know more about you."

"You think I care about what you want?" he sneers and I hold back the world's loudest groan. Why does he change so quickly? He was just being nice.

"You think I care about what you think?" I shoot back, frustration building up in me.

"And you wonder why I want to drink," I grumble, adding to my imaginary list of reasons why I want to drink.

"Fuck you," his voice turns deadly and I regret my last words. No one's told me that before and I don't really like it.

"Is that all you've got?" I grit out. If he thinks he's gonna get to me by just that, he's got a whole storm coming.

He takes long strides toward me and I stare up at him as he does. He grasps my chin in a firm but not painful grip, lifting my head so that I'm looking straight at him.

"Why do you do that?" he clenches his jaw.

"Do what?" I question softly.

"Get me all riled up," his grip softens and so do his features.

"You're the one who started it," I give him a little shrug, biting my lip to keep a smile off my lips. His eyes dart down to them.

"Don't do that," he glares at my lips.

"Why," I crinkle my nose up at him.

"It turns me the fuck on, now quit it," he clenches his jaw and I release my lip as I feel my cheeks heat up.

Well, at least we have something in common. He turns me on with one look. Turn on? Goodness, I need a vacation.

He picks up the cherry moonshine and the peach one, handing them both to me.

"Leave," he grumbles, lifting me off the counter and setting me down on my feet.

Strong man, I like that.

I peek out the little window only to see it raining cats and dogs outside. That was the ghost I thought I heard, duh.

What a great time to not have my car, how fun is that?

"Um," I start, not knowing where to go from there.

"So like, you're just gonna love this, I don't have my car. Do you have a jacket or something I could borrow maybe?" I question.

He sends me a glare.

"No," he gives me a slight push out of the room and I'm back in the main part of the bar.

I let out a big sigh and head toward the door. This sucks major nuts.

I hold the cherry pie and peach moonshine close to me as I finally exit the bar.

The freezing rain hits my skin and I nearly go into shock.

I'm actually going to get hypothermia. Then, I'm going to blame it on Grey. And the next time he sees me, he'll hear all about it. If I make it out alive.

I begin my trek walking down Redstreet. I make it about five stores down from Grey's bar when I feel someone grab onto my shoulders.

I thought I was seriously being kidnapped for point three seconds, but it's all good.

He puts a sweatshirt over my head that smells exactly like him and I swoon into it. He lifts the hood over my head and pulls the bottom of it down as far as it will go to cover my bare legs.

I look up beside me and there is the one and only Grey Kingston. Darn if that rain doesn't make him look real nice.

"What are yo-"

"Just shut up," he grunts out and I do.

He leads me out to the parking lot and to the passenger side of a really nice tall, shiny, black Jeep Wrangler.

He opens the door for me and I climb inside with the help of a little push from him. After closing my door, he goes around to his side.

The time it takes him to do so, I take in the smell of him, which is the most greatest thing ever, and the overall cleanliness of the car.

He opens his side and my eyes catch sight of the shirt that oh-so-heavenly clings to his torso.

Good Lord Jesus. That's very nice. That's just, wow.

"Grey," I say quietly and he looks over at me, water dripping off his gorgeous entire being.

"Thank you," I give him a little smile.

He doesn't say anything, which is to be expected. He starts the car and I begin panicking. I close my eyes to calm myself as I feel the car beginning to move.

I try to keep the memories of the events before the crash out of my head but some surface through.

"Lilah."

His voice brings me back to reality and my eyes snap back open, darting over to him. He looks at me almost worriedly.

Worriedly? No, I must be dreaming.

"Huh?"

"What's wrong with you?" he questions, his eyebrows furrowing. I just shake my head.

"What? Oh, nothing," I blow it off with a wave of my hand although I'm still completely freaking out.

"Tell me where to go," he urges and I follow his orders as best as I can with a calm voice.

? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?? ?

'It's raining men, hallelujah it's raining men, amen' -The Weather Girls

if you don't know that song, I highly suggest looking it up, it's quite perfect. Anywho, these finals are kicking my whole entire ass. Not looking forward to getting these scores but hey, let's just hope I don't have to retake any.

Thanks for reading!

Word count: 4300

-Ashlyn Montgomery