Losers: Part II (Losers, #2)

by Harley Laroux

For those looking for a place to belong. You belong here. You always will.

“A sad person knows what another sad person looks like,” I said. I dared to reach out, brushing my fingers along her cheek to tuck a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear. Goosebumps prickled over her arms, and my eyes widened. “I hear it in your voice. I see it in your eyes. I feel it when I look at you. You deserve to be happy, but you’ll never find it with the people you’re choosing.”

But if you try to force a plant to grow in a dark room, it will reach for the sun. Even helpless and rooted, with no hope of ever touching the warmth, it will reach because it has to.

God, I could destroy her. I wanted to. I needed to. I didn’t just crave her perfection, her unattainable beauty. I wanted her filth. I wanted the messy, disgusting, fucked up parts of her. I wanted to rip her open, pick her apart, find the things that made her tick.

Most people didn’t consider being duct-taped and locked in a trunk to be a great start to their weekend. I wasn’t most people, though.

Our girl. Ours. It sounded so right, it felt so right. Whether or not it was true didn’t matter, at least not for now.

At home, we had our separate spaces, but whenever we were all away, we usually slept together. It was comforting, easing unspoken anxieties and silent fears. Like surrounding ourselves with the feeling of home. Because really, our home wasn’t a house. It was each other.

She’d endured flogging, fucking, and being tied up in a trunk. Now she deserved to feel like the princess she was.

“How do you feel?” “Like I’ve been kidnapped and ravaged by four wicked villains,” she said. “In other words, I feel fantastic.”

“But waking up with the sun two days in a row is simply not on my itinerary.”

Jess was settled so comfortably on my lap, with her head resting on my shoulder as she gazed up at the stars. I wanted to prolong the moment a little longer.

“Marriage isn’t something we’re really thinking about, at least not in the traditional sense. The ring is more like…a collar that I can wear anywhere. It symbolizes devotion, love, loyalty.” Her smile widened. “So I guess it’s similar to an engagement ring, in its meaning at least.”

I loved that shit. I wanted to see my people happy. I wanted them to thrive. The world was a goddamn mess but as long as we were together, we could handle whatever life threw at us. I wanted Jess to be a part of “us.” In so many ways, it already felt like she was.

“Sit on my face, princess. Let me moan into that sweet pussy while he fucks me.”

“Can you breathe, Jason?” I said, giggling softly as he hummed in the affirmative. “If I die, I die,” he said, before his mouth was on me again.

Intimacy can involve a lot of sex or a little sex, or none at all. Love is the same way — there’s no specific mold it has to fit.

I still got that same urge to disappear. To take my people and go, hide us all away somewhere where no one and nothing could touch us. My therapist said it was part of my need for control, because control made me feel safe. I could acknowledge these things; I could understand how certain feelings and urges extended from trauma. But even understanding didn’t give me the control I needed. Control over myself. Over my brain, my fear, my doubts.

For all the bad luck in my life, my fortune was blessed when it came to my friends.

“I love you. Don’t forget that.” “I love you too, you little shit.”

Cats were moody, mischievous, independent little creatures, and humans tended to like animals that fawned over them. They tended to like people who did that too.

They’d become my haven.

Suddenly, the front door burst open and two little girls sprinted outside, squealing as they ran, with Jojo and Haribo hot on their heels. A younger girl, only four or five years of age, ran after them barefoot, her brown hair flying wildly around her face as she tried to keep up.

“My goodness. Well, Vincent told me you were beautiful but you really are a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” She embraced me, surrounding me with the aromas of cinnamon, nutmeg, and patchouli. “I’m Vera. It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Jessica.”

I noticed a little heart carved into the window sill, and when I leaned closer, I spotted the initials V+J inside it.

“Wherever you go, I want to be there too.”

“I love you.” He scratched his fingers through my hair, and I closed my eyes. It felt so good to be held. “I love you, too.”

“You’re never an interruption, angel. Whenever you need us, we’re here.”

There wasn’t a single material thing in the world that could come close to being good enough for her. She deserved so much more than that.

Her eyes glittered with makeup, her lips a soft shade of mauve. It fascinated me how she could do that, transforming her face like an artist. Although, I loved her bare skin the most. Loved. That word kept coming up when I thought about her. It felt strange, even dangerous, like I was betting for the highest odds. I’d always been a risk-taker. Couldn’t stop now.

Our marks. Our girl. Ours.

“Damn it, Manson.” Her voice shuddered. “Sometimes I think you’re the devil himself, with the way you make me feel.” She couldn’t have paid me a higher compliment.

When I said “home,” her first thought wasn’t of the house she lived in. It was our house. Our home.

Her smile was like the clouds parting in the middle of a thunderstorm. Sunshine and destruction all wrapped into one. A storm I’d chase to the ends of the earth.

There was a bouquet of flowers on my bed; pale pink roses the same color as my dress. Beside it was a bottle of wine — the same white wine I’d wanted to order at the restaurant.

It wasn’t a “lucky guess.” It was him paying attention, listening, watching, caring. It wasn’t luck, it was effort. He knew me. He saw me.

But when he whispered those words in my ear, it stopped my world entirely. “I love you.”

“This doesn’t depend on you saying anything. I love you. I’ve loved you. For so long. And I’ll love you, even if you don’t love me back. I’ll love you even if this is the last day I ever see you.”

“If you leave and spend your life with someone else, I’ll love you still. I want you to be happy, Jess, no matter who it’s with. And I’ll love you through all of it. Always. Forever.”

“Because you were my glimpse of heaven from hell,” he said. “You were the sun in my sky, and now you’re like a comet sent to earth. A wildfire I can touch…kiss…hold…” He kissed my cheek until I giggled, nuzzling his face against mine. “You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re so damn beautiful. You’ve shaken us up, Jess. All of us.” I could hear the smile in his words. “I just can’t keep my damn mouth shut, so…there it is.”

He turned as if to leave — then quickly turned back, cupped my face and kissed me again. A hard, deep, possessive kiss. And when he parted from me, he said, “I love you, angel. Be good today.”

“Now, what was that fancy-ass lipstick I ruined?” he said as we left hand in hand. He’d insisted on carrying my bags too, and was now laden not only with my purse but with multiple pink bags containing my lingerie purchases.

“Not without my boyfriend, I’m not!” she snapped.

Boyfriend. Huh. I could get used to that. I liked that.

“I like it when you smile.”

Did she even notice when she switched from saying “like” to “love”? Because I sure as hell did. The word pricked my skin like a needle, but the drug that flowed through my veins wasn’t poison. What a hopelessly desperate word. What a beautiful word…what a beautiful idea.

“I guess you’ve been guarding me for even longer than I thought, huh?” she said, with the cutest blush rising on her cheeks. “Guess so. Guard dogs never go off duty,”

“Call my girl a bitch one more time,” Lucas snapped, straining against Dante’s arm. “Fucking say it, Nate! I’ll crack your thick fucking skull —”

Love you.” “I love you, too.”

“I love you, angel,”

“I love you, pup,” he said, his voice so tender that Lucas shivered. “I love you too, sir.”