The Bar

23. Confession

Flint sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the girl to wake. His heart was sinking, depressed by what her family's cult had done to her...or might have done. He wasn't sure just yet, he needed to hear her tell him the truth. If her father didn't condone her rape then he could live. If her father did however, he would die with her rapist. If she wasn't raped at all, her father would still feel the same pain that he caused her. All of this, Flint swore to himself, would be carried out as a plan.

Before he could ask her anything though, he needed to confess his own past. He needed to tell her about the man he was, what he had done, why he was so protective over her and why violence towards women sparked a fire of anger within him. He needed her to know that he wasn't a monster, one with anger issues, but rather a man whose life spiraled out of control with a simple loss. He was a man who was recovering from a mistake, one that he was told was not his fault. He needed her to know everything.

The sound of her groggy hum had his ears perch like that of a dog. Her hand moved to touch him, her fingertips lightly slipped down his spine until it landed on the bed. She had her eyes closed and her head moves down, pulling the pillow with her to the center of the bed. She curls her legs to his chest as she lays on her side.

He turns to her and smiles, he lays back, his head next to hers. He turns his head to kiss her forehead. She smiles as he kisses her skin long and softly.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he says softly. She giggles groggily.

"No." She says poutingly with a playful smile.

"What do you mean no?" He says with a chuckle.

"I don't wanna get up," she groans.

He turns to her and wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him. Half of her body lays on him, she nuzzles his shoulder and lets her hand slide up his chest feeling the shape of his abs through his tight shirt.

"Clara," he hums tiredly.
She doesn't reply, instead she moves her hand back down his chest.
"Clara, we have to talk," he says cautiously.
She stops moving her hand down and instead moves it to his shoulder, pushing herself up in a sitting position. She nearly straddles him but she doesn't mean to do so.

She is worried, her entire body aches as she sits. The sheets covering her fall off, showing off her chest.

"Talk about what?" She asks worriedly. He realizes that shes worried that he is planning to break it off. He shakes his head to reassure her.

"Nothing bad, just...I want to tell you something."
Even with his reassurance, she bites her bottom lip in anticipation. She moves off of him and covers herself back up with the sheet. She sits, leaning against the headboard.
He sits up, sitting on the edge of the bed again, he didn't want to look at her reaction when he confessed his wrong doings.

"Only Najeem and Carter know about this. Their my closest friends. Over the last few days, I've been thinking about telling you this but, I've been worried that maybe you'd leave, and I don't want you to do that...go back to your family when they've hurt you..."

He takes a deep breathe. His plan was laid out in case she didn't want to be with him anymore, in case she didn't want to live with him anymore.
He had stayed up all night, talking about it with Najeem.

"So, if you feel like you don't want to stay here anymore, after I tell you this, theres an apartment above the bar, its empty, old, but Najeem has been fixing it up. He said you could stay there if you don't want to stay here," he continues.

"If you don't want me to live here, Flint, I und-" she begins to say but he buts in to reassure her.

"No! I just...I just want you to know that you don't have to stay here, if you don't want to."