2. ~Sebastian~

“My name is Sebastian and I’m an addict…”

That was the usual spiel, how it went every week I came to this support group meeting.

Although it was impossible to remain anonymous for me considering my celebrity status in the city, this particular group consisted of those in the spotlight like me, all of which didn’t want these issues of theirs exposed any more than I did. That collective desire meant we protected each other’s privacy in ways we wished the outside world had protected ours.

A lot of people were in here because of that pressure, that intense public attention and scrutiny. First they loved you, then they picked you to pieces and relished your downfall. It was, in essence, the nature of humanity. At least, my experience with it all.

Well, there was also one other protective element in the form of Caspian King. He’d founded this group for me eighteen months ago, and it had birthed a whole lot of others due to him recognizing how successful it had been.

I recounted my ups and downs of the last week to the group of fourteen, how I was sticking well with my routine—attending Luxe to finish off my Architecture degree, doing MMA three times a week, eating healthy, and going to sleep at a reasonable hour, while also avoiding any invitations to parties and events. I even ended up confessing a trial that had come my way in the form of one such invitation being to a joint frat and sorority party that was being held at The Ruins. It was what they were calling the former Bennett home these days.

And of course it had been a trigger to me.

So I’d ended up coming to group tonight off-schedule. I’d cut my last class of the day short and come here for an extra meeting, rather than just the twice-a-week thing I normally did.

Once I’d got all of that off my chest, somebody else began their turn to purge.

As I listened, while trying to get a handle on what I’d put out there, I felt eyes on me.

I looked out to see the tall blonde who’d started coming here a couple of months ago. She’d shot me a look or two every time I’d been here, but I’d never engaged beyond a polite head nod or smile. Her long platinum-blonde hair was loose this time, straightened and falling all the way down her back. She had a silver cropped puffer jacket on with a long tank beneath that matched her mini-skirt and gave way to a pair of gray thigh-high boots. Ashley Morrison. She was an up-and-coming model who’d been garnering a ton of press attention, her fashion tips videos going viral several times over on social media. She’d come here because she’d become addicted to cocaine, something that had come close to ruining her career before it had even reached its peak. Despite all of that, she was loud and bubbly with a very positive outlook any time she’d spoken.

I wasn’t usually one to go for the whole ray of sunshine personalities, but with the dreary existence I was living right now, that I had been living for the last two years, it had gelled well with me and gotten my attention.

And that was why I hadn’t spoken a word to her, despite her often looking my way.

I couldn’t afford that attachment.

Ever again.

Not with anyone.

It had cost me way too much two years ago.

It had broken me to pieces.

Shehad.

Damien had.

Calebhad.

Jetthad.

If it hadn’t been for Cas, I don’t know what would have happened.

Yeah, I do.

I would’ve drowned.

I hadn’t shutdown like last time I’d succumbed to addiction. That hadn’t exactly worked out well. So I could still feel it all whenever something triggered those memories. And these days I dealt with it. I talked about it with Cas, had a session with Doctor Granger, I came here to vent, to find solace in others experiencing the same issues. I didn’t… cower. I faced things head on now.

And it was why I could still be okay while feeling a whole lot of hate toward one person specifically.

Skylar fucking Bennett.

The sounds of chairs scraping and people leaving their seats pulled me from my thoughts, and I looked to see that I’d zoned out for the last few minutes, and now the meeting was done with for today.

I pushed out of my chair and shrugged my leather jacket back on over my black dress shirt.

I walked to the garbage to dispose of my coffee—the only drug I partook in these days—and stumbled into Ashley as she inadvertently cut into my path to do the same with hers.

Instinctively, I threw out my hand to steady her and it landed on her hip.

I jolted at the contact.

I hadn’t… I hadn’t touched a woman in… since… since her.

I pulled my hand away quickly, jarringly so.

It must’ve looked ridiculous, because as I dumped my coffee I heard Ashley giggling.

I turned to see those blue eyes of hers shining, her whole face lit up.

Off my less than happy look, she said, “Come on, we could do with a laugh after all the heaviness of this place and our own shit, right? It doesn’t really matter how it comes about, does it?”

“I… no. I mean, I guess not.”

Jesus. Talk about a lack of game these days.

I wasn’t bringing that, though. I wasn’t trying to. And I couldn’t.

At least I’d figured I couldn’t.

But as I took her in, that warmth and sunshine radiating off her, the way there was just a natural ease in her presence, the way she got my world because it was also her world… it didn’t seem like a bad thing to interact with her.

“Wow, you really aren’t the playboy your public rep makes you out to be, are you?” she said, giggling again, the sound rolling through me, and briefly cutting into that constant dreariness that was my life these days.

I never was. That was what I wanted to say, but it fit in with that whole maudlin thing I’d become. And I didn’t want to bring that to her, or negatively impact this more lighthearted and jovial conversation. “I’m glad my ineptitude is coming through with the subtlety of a foghorn,” I said instead.

She smiled brightly. “It’s actually a good thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it means you’re not the dick I took you for after all.”

“Ouch,” I said, slapping my hand to my chest in a dramatic fashion. “That’s harsh.”

“Really? And you didn’t think something similar of me before encountering me in this group?”

“Nope.”

“Come on, you must’ve had your own perception formed.”

“Hot model and social media marketing genius.”

She stilled, then her lips parted. “Wow, that’s… really sweet.” She slapped my shoulder playfully. “Thanks a lot, now I feel like a complete shit.”

“Well, I aim to please.”

She burst out laughing.

And, somehow, so did I.

When we’d recovered, she took a step toward me and an awareness that I hadn’t felt for so long rolled over me at the nearly-there brush of another against me. “You want to get a coffee, or something? Another coffee, I mean? Or maybe dinner later?”

Shit. This was moving along. Too quickly. Managing this interaction had been a big enough step for me as it was, I hadn’t considered how to handle anything beyond this.

Fortunately, I didn’t actually have to yet because I had a thing. “I actually have a project to finish for class. It’s crunch time right now.” And that just highlighted how much I’d actually needed to come here for this extra session, while I had that workload on my shoulders.

“All right, then another time?”

“Maybe.”

Maybe? What was I doing?

“Hmm, maybe. That really makes a girl feel she’s got your interest.”

“No, I mean… yes… I just—”

“Here,” she said, pulling her phone from her tiny jeweled pink purse. “Give me your number.”

I reeled it off to her.

In the very next moment, my phone buzzed.

I pulled it out and swiped it open to see a text.

Unknown Number: Ashley here. Note to Sebastian: make a date with me. Super chill date, no pressure.

I grinned and added her number into my phone. “Got it.”

“Yeah? You’re sure?” she teased.

“I’m sure.”

“Good, then I’m gonna head out. Have a good night, Sebastian.”

“You too.”

I watched her go, her hips swinging in that bold pink skirt as she did. She shot a look over her shoulder and winked at me, letting me know she’d done it on purpose. And then she turned the corner and headed out of my eyeline.

My smile faded as she disappeared from view and that sight slammed up against a memory I couldn’t swallow down fast enough before it was given breath.

I watched her for a few moments, the sexy way she walked with a swing of her hips, one that wasn’t even intentional, just all her. Then there was the confidence she exuded too. And the whole fearless thing she had going on. She was a real warrior in so many ways.

Fucking Sky.

That party invite had really gotten under my skin.

I’d done so well not thinking about her for months on end and now with one reference, all this other shit was bubbling up and coming to the surface.

Fuck, maybe going out with Ashley was just what I needed to finally put that traitorous bitch behind me.

Maybe being with somebody else was the final step on that long, painful journey she’d set me on two years ago.

Maybe.

So,yeah, instead of heading home, which was now King Manor once again, I’d ended up here.

At The Ruins. The former Bennett mansion.

Well, what was left of it, which wasn’t a whole lot.

The structural integrity had been severely compromised by that fire and the fact that with what had happened that night delaying the arrival of the firefighters.

The place was ash and debris now. The foundations were still intact, but whole walls were blown out, you could see into the interior of the house from the outside. It was a fucking cinder box. Talk about a metaphor slapping me in the face.

Maria Bennett had died in that brutal fire.

At first, we’d thought it had been a shitload of smoke inhalation from being trapped in her bedroom for so long before Frank Bennett had arrived and pulled her out. She’d also suffered severe and disfiguring third degree burns over more than fifty-percent of her body. But the actual cause of death had been a heart attack brought on by the shock and panic of it all.

She’d been buried at the edge of the estate.

None of her family had come to her funeral.

Sky and her father hadn’t even returned to the city for it.

It had just been me and Cas there out of respect.

Well, and my mom, shockingly.

That was the only time I’d actually seen her in the last two years.

I was done with her for her penchant for always taking Damien’s side.

And she was done with me for me falling off the wagon again, the humiliation upon the family of that sex tape getting out, and from blaming me for Cas pushing Damien out of the city.

My gaze darted to where the trellis had been leading up to Sky’s bedroom and the memory of that night I’d snuck in there and ravished her played on my mind.

The night she’d surrendered to me, to what had been between us.

The night she’d finally admitted that she’d wanted me as much as I’d wanted her.

The night my confession had affected her so deeply.

“I fucking want you too. More than I should. More than should be possible. You’re crawling under my skin, Skylar. Deep in my bones. I can’t cast you out. And worse than that, I don’t fucking want to.”

I’d thought I’d found somebody who I could go the distance with, somebody who understood me, who accepted the light and the very dark and disturbed.

Somebody to love.

I’d brought her into my world, she’d become beloved by Cas and Caleb too.

We’d been building something.

Something that was a little twisted, yeah, but also fucking incredible.

And then she’d spit all over that.

She’d just fucking run.

Without a word.

Without any explanation.

Without us knowing if she was ever planning to come back once things had died down.

Without any goddamn care.

The only communication we’d received regarding her disappearance had been from her dad.

He’d texted Cas with a simple and fucking bitter, “I warned you.”

Cas had told me that the warning had been Frank telling him that if things went south, if our relationship with his daughter started to hurt her, he’d take her away and hide her in the shadows where we’d never find her.

And he had.

Even Cas hadn’t been able to track her down.

He hadn’t stopped for six months straight.

Until one day I’d come to him and told him to give it up, that we needed to let it go and accept that she was lost to us.

Just like Caleb was.

“Bastian.”

Shit. I snapped out of my thoughts at the sound of the voice and spun around to see Cas now walking to me, coming through the tree line. I winced as I saw his two-thousand-dollar designer shoes squelching in the mud. He seemed oblivious, though, his only concern on me as a frown marred his brow as he looked between me and the Bennett home.

“I’m glad you called,” he said, as he reached me.

“Not so much that I called from here, though, I’m betting.”

“Not so much.” He reached out and stroked my cheek in that tender way of his that he’d developed more so with me over the last couple of years. “What’s happened, sweetheart?”

I turned into it, nuzzling against the warmth.

And then I told him about how I’d been triggered today.

“I see,” he said, easing his hand away, but then grasping my shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Going to that additional meeting was a fantastic response, Bastian. This is just a bump, not a setback, and you’re handling it in a healthy and very positive way. Calling me here too just adds to that.”

I eased away. “Would you still be proud to know that as much as I hate her, standing here has had me wondering where she is, what she’s doing?”

“It’s natural to wonder.”

“You covered things up, smoothed everything over, she could’ve come back.”

“Her mom was basically murdered by her psychopathic stalker, her home was burned to the ground, that sex tape had left her ostracized, and things were strained between you and her, between all four of us, Caleb left… there wasn’t anything for her to come back to.”

I scrubbed my hand over my face. “She should’ve had faith in us, in what the four of us had built together. We brought her into the fold, made her one of us, and she basically spat all over it.”

“She wasn’t the only one.”

I winced. “Cal was different. What he did that night… that massacre… it crossed some major lines.”

Cas ground his teeth and shoved a hand through his hair. Yeah, he didn’t like to talk about Caleb. He only did it for me, because he knew I needed to put it out there, to vent, to expel the poisonous thoughts and the pain when it rose up, instead of foolishly burying everything like I used to. He believed he could have helped Cal through it and that Cal had betrayed him in a way by not coming to him and then taking off and basically severing our brotherhood. And at a time when we’d all needed one another after the loss of Skylar and then me succumbing to addiction again.

“Sorry, it’s okay. I just needed to come here, I guess. Just to see this place again. To re-anchor myself, or something.”

“I understand. But let’s head home now. You need to stay on track with this final project of your final semester, then it’s graduation time. You’re so close, Bastian.”

I grinned. “Yeah.”

“Plus, your favored BLTs are on the menu for dinner tonight.”

“Well, then, don’t say another word, let’s get the hell out of here.”

He chuckled, and we headed out.

As we did, I forced myself not to look back at the house.