Now, dragging my ass to the bus station with a suitcase in tow, my mind has begun to unlock all those thoughts. The images and memories floating to the surface faster than a bloated corpse–and believe me I’ve seen my fair share. Ready to assault me all over again with their content.
Last night I wasn’t thinking straight. My love and lust for Kade was influencing all my decisions, and my ravenous pussy jumped on board without a second thought. It was clearly a mistake.A wonderful, magical, sensual mistake,but a mistake nonetheless. How can I even think about being in a relationship with one of them, or worse all of them, with me still in Colt’s direct line of fire. They could—no, theywould—get hurt. This is the shit books andKatherine Heiglmovies are made of, not the life of tiny dark-haired assassins.
My feet are still moving me forward as my head pretends to work through its existential crisis. My brain, which should be helping me figure out what to do or say, is instead singing Christmas Carols. In the middle of fuckingJuly.So, really, I’m moving on auto-pilot at this point, headed for whichever bus terminal fills first.
The whole platform is buzzing with activity, travelers moving to connecting shuttles and parents yelling at their kids not to wander off. Around five this evening three buses pull in one after the other, the first of them heading to Las Vegas.No thanks!Had enough of the Nevada desert to last a lifetime. The middle one is headed for New Orleans, and the last for Omaha. I guess I might get to experience Mardi Gras after all.
The driver steps out, collects his things and heads inside, assumingly to switch with whoever’s taking over, and I use the opportunity to slide onto the bus undetected. Slipping into the very back, I tuck my suitcase under the last row ofseats and place my backpack beside me. Our new driver climbs on, puts his things away, adjusts his mirrors, and we’re taking off into the night.
I just need to get away from here.
Once I’m out of Miami and away fromthem, everything will be fine.
Fifteen hours. That’s how long it took us to reach “The Big Easy.”
The ride here was a lot more interesting than I thought it was going to be. With two one-hour stops, I was fortunate not to be caught or questioned about how I got here or where my ticket was. I stayed in the back, kept to myself, however one overly-chatty elderly lady decided I was a target of her face vibrations, and now I need to bleach my brain.
Turns out, Roberta likes to talk… alot. For the better part of this trip, the unfortunate topic of conversation has been revolving around the multiple lovers she has on the hook. Entertaining various men without them realizing the others even exist.
There’s Geoffrey in Miami, Richard in New Orleans, Scott in Kentucky, and Phillip in Atlanta.
Apparently, Roberta—who I’d like to remind you is someone’s grandmother—spends her days traveling between each dude as they pay for her to come visit. She doesn’t have a physical home or even a nursing home that misses her, and she’s having the time of her freaking life. Right from the very first story, I was in awe of this woman, her brashness and determination to live life to the absolute fullest. Indulging herself at the spry age of eighty-seven, without a fuck to give. I felt like I could talk to her, confide in her even, that is, until the second half of our trip.
Needless to say she leavesnothingto the imagination.
Commence the need to brain purge.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so excited to pull into a bus terminal in all my life. There are some things the general public–mainly me–just nevereverneeded to know. And how many times Geoffrey made Roberta orgasm over the span of a long weekend is one of them.
Sliding my belongings out, I head for the front of the bus, helping the little old lady down the steps behind me. Roberta gives me a hug, smelling of something floral mixed with moth balls, before wishing me luck. We part ways and I watch as this tiny woman hurriedly shuffles over to a waiting Richard. He kisses her passionately, cupping her cheeks between shaky hands and around an oxygen cord.
It’s sweet in a fucked-up-kind-of-old-person way and it brings a tear to my eye as I stand back and watch their little weirdo love story happen. Richard whispers something in Roberta’s ear, causing her to giggle before she climbs onto his lap and off they go on his mobility scooter.
After spending way too long watching them–and wondering if they’ve ever banged on that thing–I finally give my head a firm shake and grab hold of my shit.
Wandering inside the main building, I manage to find the bathrooms for a quick clean up. A refreshing splash of water to my face and an empty bladder is apparently all I needed for the excitement to begin coursing through my veins.
A new chapter is beginning for me. Somewhere new to explore, a new culture to immerse myself into. I’ll miss the guys, probably even more than before after getting a taste of them this weekend, but in the long run, this will be better. Andthe day I finally manage to put Colt down like the rabid dog he is, I’ll search for them again. Returning to the people whom I’ve never stopped loving.
…Maybe…
…If they ever forgive me…
No matter. Those are thoughts and worries for the future Mikayla. Right now, it’s time to start exploring and most importantly use the day to find somewhere to rest my head tonight.
Chin held high, I stride towards the main entry, ready to make waves in this new place I'm calling home. The double doors open automatically with a whir, and I step out into the Louisiana heat.
The sun has crested over the horizon already, shining brightly onto the parking lot and I squint hard. After traveling for the evening and all through the night, the intense light is blinding me. My irises sting worse than when you cut into an onion and I need a few moments to be able to adjust. I’m still trying to make everything come into focus, when I start to take some steps forward and slam right into someone. Thrown backwards from the body I didn’t notice was even there, I brace myself for the impact on the concrete. Ready to absorb the scrapes and pain as they flash through me. But it doesn’t come.
Instead, a pair of warm, thick arms wrap around my waist and pull me back to a standing position. Saving my ass from the concrete.
“I’m so sorry! I forgot my sunglasses and I’ve been traveling all night. The sun is so bright,” I begin, essentially spewing mindless word vomit. I’m not even registering what I’m actually saying. With one more muttered sorry, I blink rapidly, everything coming into clearer view.
Suitcase still behind me, I look up and find myself staring into a set of glaring brown eyes. Ones which are very much not impressed with little ol’ me. Taking a step back to put some distance between us, and remove his arms from my body, I notice it’s not just his eyes that are pinning me in place… but four.
Fucking hell.
Chapter Twenty-Six
