Violent Things
Bates
I looked downat my phone for what seemed like the hundredth time in ten minutes.
Milo hadn’t answered me yet, so he was either asleep or busy; either way, he needed to fucking reply.
With a loud sigh, I ran a hand back through my hair and glanced out the living room window.
There were so many things running through my mind, but all of them revolved around her.
They always did.
My angry, fractured, pretty girl with the sad eyes and even sadder smile.
Love wasn’t something that Hollis was used to receiving, but it never stopped me from giving her everything I had and more.
I set the phone down on the coffee table in front of me, kicked my feet up, and had damn near settled back to get comfortable when the buzzing sound reverberated so loudly that it sounded like a gunshot.
Sitting up quickly, I swiped it off the table, pressed the button to quiet it, then cast a glance over my shoulder, hoping that it didn’t wake up Holls. After a few tense moments of steady silence, I tapped the screen to life and felt a smile of relief spread across my lips.
It was him.
And from what the message said, he was more than willing and able to help me.
___
Milo and I walked up the street, side by side, two completely different men, but with the same determination and purpose.
I wanted to find bring something home for my pretty girl, something that could be a peace offering, and maybe get a genuine smile out of her.
She’d been faking happiness too much lately with her gentle kisses, soft caresses, and innocent smiles, and more than likely unaware that I had been noticing.
Her kisses were anything but gentle anymore. They tasted far too much of rage and resentment.
Her caresses, while soft, trailed down my body feeling of envy and malice.
And her innocent smiles.
The ones I cherished the most had become hollow.
Void of any emotion, forced onto her lips only to placate the man that loved her.
The more I watched her spiral back into the lonely, unloved girl she was the night I met her, the more I hated myself for not being able to keep her afloat.
“Do you know which bar it was?” he asked me, bringing me back to the moment.
“No,” I admitted with the shake of my head, “but he shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
With a nod, Milo led the way into the establishment closest to us. I scanned the faces of strangers, hoping to find the one I was looking for as I followed him toward bar.
“How much time do we have?” he pressed curiously as he pulled out one of the empty stools and sat down.
“She’s in a mood,” I replied quietly.
Milo gave me a sympathetic look and smiled as he turned his attention toward the bartender who had suddenly appeared.
Hollis’ moods could be a myriad of things, but as of late, they were usually wrought with depressive thoughts, frantic hatred of herself, and masking it all as best she could in an attempt to keep me from noticing.
And it always failed.