Masterpiece Theater

I hung up with Brian and leaned against the wall, exhaling smoke towards the sky. I was already gross and now I had to work an extra shift because Danny decided getting laid was more important than helping me at the bar.

I wasn’t jealous of whatever new bimbo he picked up. I was just pissed for being stranded.

I was kind of grateful for the overtime, though. It meant more hours, more tips. A bigger paycheck. Hopefully, with all the extra hours, I’d be able to actually take some time off to scout a bigger place for Jason and I.

Staying with Brian was great, but I wanted to have my own place to go back to. If I moved in with him, Jason would move in too, and I didn’t think Brian could handle both of us full time.

My cigarette break was much too short. I slipped back inside, shrugged off my jacket and hustled to the bar. I barely had time to shove it into a cubby before I had to start pouring drinks, but not even Danny could keep up with me.

“Hey gorgeous,” a man greeted. I smiled but didn’t look up, keeping my focus on my one second pours.

“Can I get some Lag, on the rocks, and leave the bottle.”

I froze at the request, two shots of tequila in each hand, ready to be put on a tray. I still didn’t look up, but looking down at the sloshing liquor made me realize I was shaking. I set the glasses down, refilled them, and set the tray aside for pick up. All my orders were caught up. I didn’t have a choice but to look up at the man who asked for one of the most expensive bottles of single malt we had.

“Hello, Finn.” I greeted tersely.

“Hey, Lor.” His grin was anything but friendly. He bared his teeth and passed over two crisp hundred dollar bills. I left them there.

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

I grabbed the bottle and a glass. First, I added two huge ice cubes, and then held the base with my fingertips and poured, swirling it around the walls of it before holding it straight and letting it settle. His dull gray eyes never wavered from my face.

When I set the glass in front of him, he grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Where’s your brother?”

“He’s with some friends. What do you want? How did you even find me?”

Keeping a firm grip around my wrist, he dug his wallet out of his back pocket and opened it with his teeth, pinching out a torn piece of paper. He set the wallet aside and unfolded the paper, laying flat on top of the bills I still hadn’t picked up.

A picture of Brian and I took up most of the space. It was taken somewhere on Sunset Boulevard, when we had gone into the city for the day. His arm was around my neck, cradling me close. I had mine around his waist, my hand buried deep in his back pocket.

Avenged Sevenfold Guitarist, Synyster Gates, with new fling, name unknown. The caption read.

“I saw this and knew I had to come find you, bring you home.”

“Home? What the hell do you know about home, Finn?” I scoffed. I yanked my hand out of his grip and turned away, ready to fill more orders.

My heart pounded in my chest. The last thing I’d expected when I decided to date Brian was paparazzi, or being found by Finn. If he found me, I was in deep shit.

I didn’t care if I was going to get fired, I needed to leave.

I knew Finn was watching me, but I didn't think he was fast enough to make it through the crowd and catch me, especially if I went out through the kitchen.

I didn’t even grab my jacket. I just bolted, whizzing by servers and customers. I heard shouting behind me, some dishes clattering to the floor. I ignored all of it. My head spun in a panic and for a second, I forgot which direction I was supposed to be going, but I didn’t turn around.

Unfortunately, he was faster than me, and in my disoriented state, I had slowed down, trying to find my way through the crowd. He slammed into me, gripped my arm, and dragged me out of the restaurant.

“You don’t,” he spat, his hand flying, “ever,” smack “run away from me. Smack, smack, smack.

I spat a mouthful of blood at him. His face turned red, his eyes bulged out of their sockets, and he dragged me further down the sidewalk to a waiting car. He shoved me into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and went around the other side.

“Don’t even think about jumping out.” He growled. My face hurt too much to think much of anything else. I could feel an eye swelling shut and blood in my mouth. My lip was split open. I could’ve tried jumping out of a moving vehicle, speeding down the road at sixty miles an hour, but he’d only stop and give me a beating in the middle of the road, making traffic stop or move around him.

We reached a seedy motel and he grabbed my arm again to lift me out of the seat. I struggled against him, clawing at anything I could reach. It was useless, but at least I was making it harder for him to control me. He picked me up and threw me over his shoulder as we started climbing some stairs, but with all my struggling, he had to drop me and pick me up again to readjust my weight.

“So what are you gonna do, Finn?” I asked stubbornly after he threw me onto the bed and slammed the door shut. He offered a pack of cigarettes. I took one warily and watched him pace.

“I missed you, Laurel. I just want my wife to come home.” He stood there, trying to put on a guilty expression, but I knew better. He wasn’t sorry, he didn’t love me, and he was only going to hurt me more, regardless of what I did.

“How did you find me?”

“It wasn’t that hard. I saw the picture in the magazine, so I searched your name and Huntington Beach. You’re tagged in a lot of Facebook reviews, taking pictures with your customers, being reviewed as one of the best servers that place has to offer, makes a kickass margarita. I could go on, but I don’t think I need to. I added Avenged Sevenfold to my search, but didn’t really pull up anything. Guess your new friends are pretty hush hush about you.” He explained.

I smoked slowly, contemplating his monologue. Finn loved hearing himself talk. I just had to keep him talking long enough for Jason to find me. I had my GPS location turned on. Hopefully Jason would get to the restaurant early to wait on me and when he realized I was missing, he'd come find me.

Finn’s story was plausible; I was stupid enough to take pictures with my customers, knowing what they would do with them. I really didn’t try that hard to keep him from finding me, but something still lingered at the back of my mind. Something I didn’t want to consider too harshly.

Still, when I left, he knew where I was going. He knew California was my home. It wasn’t that hard to figure out that if I left, I would come back here. And, since he was stalking me anyway, he had to have known where I was headed.

His sudden appearance didn’t add up, though.

He rushed towards me. I scooted farther back into the bed, which was the wrong thing to do. As he leaned in for a kiss, he grabbed my hand and took the cigarette from me, setting it in the ashtray as his lips met mine.

Instinctively, I bit down, and he hit me again. I felt blood trickle out of my nose. He stood and undid his pants, letting them drop as he took off his shirt. I wiped my arm across my face to clean off some of the blood, my voice stuck in my throat.

I watched as he climbed onto the bed and spread my legs open with his knees. Of course, he had to pick the day I wore a skirt to work because I hadn’t had a chance to do laundry or shop for new clothes.

“Finn,” I tried, “please.”

“I had to watch you for eight months, Lor. I couldn’t talk to you, I couldn’t touch you, I couldn’t-” he shot his hand up and I cried out, attempting to clench my legs together, but it wasn’t fast enough. With a grin, he pulled his fingers out of me and licked them. “I couldn’t taste you.”

“And then your dad died, and I thought, ‘she’ll have to come back, now. She doesn’t have anyone left. Her brother is a basket case. She can’t handle things on her own’. You surprised me, though. The first chance you got, you and your brother were making plans to move. I should have come after you, but I was still naive enough to believe that you wouldn’t be able to hack it. To my surprise, I was wrong, so now I’ve come to bring you home, where you belong.”

I trembled underneath him. He hovered over me, his fingers inside me once more. He kissed me, shoving his tongue down my throat. His hands pushed my skirt up and cupped my neck.

I braced myself for it, but when he shoved himself inside me, no preparation, no warning, I cried out.

"God, Finn, stop!" I yelled, or attempted to yell. My words were blubbered due to the swollen mouth and broken nose.

He grunted with each jerk. I started to cry. He covered my mouth and my nose with one hand, squeezed my neck harder with the other.

My body went limp, and I retreated inside myself. I learned a long time ago if I had to suffer at his hand, then I needed to block it out and become not present.

Everything went black.

When I came to, I heard a scramble of noise. Oddly out of place for being trapped in a motel room.

Sirens. Voices. Beeping. Bright fluorescent lights.

Black again.