Does It Hurt?

by H.D. Carlton

To baby shark, Step aside, Daddy shark is here now.

Aaaand I've melted already!!

Some days I’m the ocean. Some days I’m the ship. Tonight, I’m the lighthouse: at the edge, alone, and burning. -Vasiliki

Heart racing, I head directly to the gift shop, purchase a zip-up hoodie, along with sweats and a ball cap,

An HD Carlton staple!! 🙌

How flammable is sand? I bet not at all. It’s too dense—nothing to feed the oxygen. Not unless I pour gasoline all over it. I bet it’d make the beach prettier, though. Fire on the shoreline of a vast, blue ocean? Who wouldn’t want to see that?

“When have we ever been able to let go of the things that hurt us most?” I mutter.

“Don’t you feel bad for me, young lady. It’s a blessing to be old, and every blessing is a little bittersweet.”

“Perfectly imperfect,” I compromise, smiling big at him. My cheeks hurt from how widely they’re being stretched, but just like every time that needle poked through my skin, the pain feels good. “All the best things are.”

“We’ll cross paths again, Sawyer. Life has a funny way of throwing people into your path when you’re meant to collide. It’s up to you to choose to make it permanent.”

“Whatever. Let me just get the money for—” “You put any money out and I’ll shove it down your throat,”

I’m in trouble, but it’s the type of danger that makes you smile uncontrollably as you ride the line between life and death. The kind of danger that gives you a thrill, makes you feel alive, and then leaves you bereft and empty when it’s over.

“You’re going to ruin me, too. But unfortunately for you, that’s where I feel most at home.”

“You’re going to ruin me,” he reiterates. I will. “I won’t.” At least not like he thinks. “You’re lying.” I am. “You won’t be the only one that will be ruined, remember?”

“No, bella, I’m going to make you take it from me. If you want a predator to submit to you, then you need to be stronger.”

“Does it hurt, bella?”

If this man were my kingdom, I’d sit on this throne for fucking eternity.

Cazzo, quanto mi fai godere.”

“My name and God’s don’t belong in the same sentence, bella,” he rasps, his voice as rough as the rock below us. “One is holy, and the other is depraved.”

He’s still staring at me, and my flight instincts are beginning to kick in. “Come home with me,” he says as if sensing that.

My mouth literally fell opened and my head slowly turned to the side 🤣😂 needless to say I was shocked 😂

Casting another glance at Enzo, I pick up his discarded shorts and rifle through them until my fingers close around his wallet. Smooth, black leather encasing his identity.

Well.... this isn't going to go well 😳

Enzo Vitale. Thirty-four years old. Born November 12th—Scorpio;

Come on, pipsqueak, stop lying to yourself and the rest of the world about what happened. You’re spending all this time running when you could have already faced what you’ve done to the one person who loved you most in the world. Just… do it for Kevin. You owe him that much. Garrett

“Sweetheart, you carry your baggage like it’s the only belongings you got.”

“People don’t actually care about fixing you. They just want to shape your broken pieces until they fit their standards. Smooth ’em out, make ’em less sharp, so they don’t cut so deep when they collect ’em. But you ain’t any less broken.”

Ladra.

Well... shit! That means theif 😬

I’m having trouble forcing myself to admit aloud that a girl swindled me. Troy would never let me live it down, and then I’d have to attach cinderblocks to his ankles and throw him in the ocean to find peace again.

Ecco la mia piccola ladra.

My darkness was attracted to hers, and it seems I learned the hard way just how dangerous it is.

He stares down at me, silent, but I feel his disappointment anyway. And like a typical adult who grew up deprived of praise and attention from their parents, I'm now seeking those things from a man.

“That’s pretty special,” I retort. “You never told me why you won’t kiss me.”

“I don’t kiss anyone. I’ve never met a woman who deserves that intimacy from me.”

“Nervous?” he asks, stepping down onto the deck. “We’re in the middle of a big bowl of monster soup. I’m pretty sure I should’ve brought diapers.”

Exactly how I feel too, babes! All the nope!

“Maybe I shouldn’t go. I wouldn’t want to lose my favorite toe.” His brow furrows. “Do I even want to know?” I point to my pinkie toe. “It’s cute. Sharks like cute things. They eat seals. Seals are cute.”

She's such a dork.... I absolutely love her 🤣😂

“You’re touching an entire universe right now. A microscopic portion of a universe. It’s an ecosystem full of millions of species, some of them you couldn’t even imagine.” His hands drift to my hips, cupping them in his large palms and squeezing, sending delicious tremors down my spine. “What you’re touching right now is sacred. It’s to be respected.”

The double meaning and foreshadowing here are NOT lost on me, girl! God bless my SJM brain!!!

“I needed one more time with you,” he rasps. “Ancora una volta.”

My pleas are cut off as he finally pushes my head into the water.

😳😳😳😳😳😳

“Enzo! P-please, don’t let them—” “Don’t worry, baby, they’re not the ones you should be afraid of.”

“I could have you arrested.” I shrug and mutter, “I guess then maybe I can stop running.”

“You brought me out here to make me think I’m going to die. And now look, we’re both going to die.”

Time slows, and my heart drops. And I know… I just know that this one is going to send us over.

“Sawyer! Get up here!” I shout, but she’s already clambering to the helm, eyes wide with panic.

Just as she slams into my chest, the wave breaks, and I grab her face, forcing her wild gaze t...

pulling my stare away from her and looking up to find a massive, imposing lighthouse. It’s decrepit, the red and white stripes ringed around the building chipped and blackening. It sits upon a treacherous rock cliff, and the sight of it has dread’s sharp claws sinking into my skin. It appears like it came out of a horror movie. Of course, this is our only option for refuge.

“I think ghosts are the least of our worries,” I answer. “Starvation and dehydration are a little more fucking concerning.” “Well, which is worse? Dying of hunger or dying of scary ghosts?” she volleys back.

“Which is quicker?” She nods. “Okay, you got me there. May the bean gods bless us then.”

“The bean gods,” she repeats, reaching the last step and coming up to a cement pathway. “Canned beans survive the apocalypse. They’re always the number one thing left in cabinets after the world ends. So, I imagine they’ll be in this abandoned lighthouse that potentially hasn’t seen life since the dinosaurs.” “There is so much wrong with what you just said.”

“Be careful, though. The beans will give you flatulence.”

I’m seconds away from shoving her farther behind me and telling the fucker to find something else to moon over. She may be a siren, but she’s mine to hurt just as much as she’s mine to protect.

“See, the bean gods did bless us. With coffee beans.”

Still, she radiates sunshine, and all it makes me want to do is wipe it clean from her face. She’s the light that blinds you right before lightning strikes.

Must've lost all my fucks to give in the ocean.