Shards of Us

And Sebastian is never let.

That was the final sign.

My heart begins pounding even faster. Where is Sebastian? I think frantically. He's always on time. Always. He'll be here, I tell myself. Maybe he just got caught in traffic. I don't really believe it, but I don't need anything else to worry about tonight, and so I leave it at that.

I'm tempted to leave right then and come back next week, but then I remember rule #3: don't leave the hotel room until morning. Not ever. And really, I'm not in a position to break another one of his rules. So I sigh, pour myself some red wine from the fridge, turn on some Beethoven music on the CD player Sebastian has set out, and I sink into the chair in the corner of the room, drinking and thinking and waiting.

I don't even know how long I sit there for, but I know it's at least an hour. I keep sipping at my wine, trying to let my body relax and make the nerves go away, but I can't. I'm wound too tight, and my heart doesn't slow its pounding for a second the whole time. I try instead to escape into my thoughts. I think about Sebastian, where he could possibly be, whether he's coming here or he just decided to abandon me. I think about the story he told me last week, about how he left everyone he ever cared about and even to this day, still hates himself for it. I think about the way his lips feel on mine, the way his touch makes my skin crawl, the tingling sensation his body gives me. I think about how Sebastian makes everything go away, makes all of the pain and the emptiness and the loneliness and the hurt fade. I think about us, our setup, and if we can ever really be together. I like how it is between us. I like this security, this guarantee. But I know, deep down, that I want more. I want to love Sebastian. I want to see the real him. I want… well, I want him.

Next I think about my parents. It's been two years since the robbery that got them killed, but it feels more like an eternity. The robber stole Mom's jewelry, the police said, and shot them both when they tried to stop him. A tragedy, according to the paper. An awful, awful tragedy.

As if they knew any of it.

Finally, my mind drifts back to Ash. I wonder whether I should call and tell her that Sebastian isn't here, to let her go home and sleep restfully while I spend my night here, staring at the door, like Sebastian would have wanted. Only break the rules if you absolutely have to, is his saying, and I don't really have to break them now. I am fine here, aren't I? Yes, I tell myself. Yes I am. I am fine.

I. am. fine.

So I take one last sip of wine and close my eyes as I sit in the chair, ready to let sleep take me away until morning. Sebastian will show up later, I tell myself as I close my eyes. He will.

That's when I hear the gunshot.

And the scream.

In that moment, what I hear isn't the kind of happy-scream you get when someone proposes, or during a tickle-fight of some sort, or anything, well, positive. This isn't the scream of a small child trying to get attention, either, or the scream of someone calling out to a friend.

No.

This scream is blood-curdling. Ear-splitting. Filled with pure fear. The second I hear it, my whole body freezes up. I shoot out of the chair, my heart hammering furiously in my chest.

The scream and gunshot are close, it's like they're coming from outside my room, and the realization is a punch in the gut. Oh shit shit shit, I think to myself, scrambling for cover. Everything pounds, freezes, hurts. I don't know what to do. What the fuck am I supposed to do in a situation like this? What do I do when there are gunshots and screams right outside my door? My feet go numb. My hands tremble. I take a slow step to the door, listening for the sound of footsteps fading, for any sign to tell me I'm safe, but nothing comes. Everything is silent for one long second, and then, just like that, all hell breaks loose.

There's a grunt, and someone is thrown against the wall beside my door. Another scream rips through the air. I swear my heart is about to explode out of my chest as the body collides with the wall, almost breaking through it, sending me jumping backward. I hear the crack of a fist connecting with skin, and then someone else is slammed against the wall, closer to the door this time. I jump back again. The fighting continues, and finally my sense start kicking in. I hear another crack as someone is thrown against the wall across the way while I race over to the corner of the room, ducking behind the bed for cover.

The next thing I know, another gunshot sounds, piercing through the night air. I hear another scream, and then the sound of sobbing. And then, once again, there is nothing.

I cower there, under the bed, totally frozen. I feel numb. My whole body screams at me that I'm going to fucking die here because someone is killing people right outside my door, but I try to ignore it, to try to stay calm, try to focus on my breathing.

Then, through the silence, there's the crunch of a single footstep, stopping directly in front of my door.

My whole body shakes at that, and I hold my breath, tensing up. The killer is here. Whoever pulled that trigger is about to come inside my room.

But I don't dare move, or breathe, or do anything to give myself away. So I just crouch there, stock-still, waiting for whoever to leave. I hold my breath as I hear another footstep, drawing closer still. The person pauses, and I hear sobbing from someone out in the hallway. My heart hammers in my chest so hard I swear whoever is there can hear it, but I don't dare move as the sound of the footsteps stops.

Right.

In front of.

My door.

And then, to my absolute horror, the knob turns. I watch, frozen, trying not to cry, as it turns until it clicks, and then the door swings wide open.

The first thing I see is the man's boots: dark and placed right outside my door. Then, slowly, I lift my gaze up to his suit pants, then to his tux and black bowtie, then to his square jaw, and then, finally, my gaze settles on those same, icy blue eyes I know all too well.

Sebastian gives me a small smile as he walks over to the bed. 'Ready to begin, angel?' he says.

If my stomach could sink so low that it falls out of my body, mine just did. He keeps a gun trained on someone outside, looking between me and whoever it is. 'Come here,' he coos in his sing-song way, but I don't move. I'm rooted in the spot, shaking like crazy, the tears streaming down my face.

When I don't obey, the smile leaves his face and fury replaces it. Sebastian looks sinister, his nostrils flaring and lips curling into a smirk. 'Out. Now,' he yells, and points a second gun on me.

A sob racks through me, but I have no choice but to obey. I stand up and walk numbly over to him, trying to process what's going on, why Sebastian, my Sebastian, looks like he wants to kill me. My heart keeps on hammering and my blood chills and chills, and I can barely make out anything but the throbbing in my head. I feel my vision starting to fade out, feel the room disappear and everything else leaving me, but I force myself to focus, to take one step after another until, finally, I reach the door.

A pained smile spreads across Sebastian's lips. 'Good, my angel,' he coos once I reach him, stroking my hair for just a second. His eyes seem sad, though, almost apologetic, which catches me off guard. 'Very good.'

Then, he hands me a gun. A pistol, I think, but I don't have much experience with guns. I take it, my hands still shaking furiously. I don't understand why he's giving it to me, but I'm too scared and confused to question him. I look up to meet his gaze. He looks different than usual. His eyes are hard and fierce, and not in the same loving kind of way. They're angry, almost apologetic.

I swallow hard.

I hear a crash somewhere downstairs, then shouts, and then an earsplitting crack. A gunshot, I think. My legs go weak. Sebastian must hear it too, because he glances down the hall and then looks back at me, his face and voice suddenly urgent.

'Use this,' he says, pointing at the gun he gave.

'For what?' I choke out. I have to force myself to continue breathing. I look at the gun, then him, then back at my feet.

The sounds of people running are approaching. I pray with every fiber of my being that they're cops, but I don't even know anymore. I don't know what's going on. I don't know why the man I thought I trusted just possibly killed someone, and is now looking like he wants to do the same to me.

Sebastian grabs my arm and shoves me out into the hall. He points at a girl lying limply on the other side of