His striking blue eyes are unmoving from me, narrowed in hate. His hands are clenching my hoodie in fists, no doubt getting blood on them. I'm on my tiptoes, which scramble a bit, unable to flatten my feet on the floor since he's holding me too high. Entire body tense, muscles strained, Vaughn looks livid yet perfect, and I try to focus.

I essentially have to redirect all of my energy into not letting this affect me in... inappropriate ways. His kid almost got shot, of course he's mad. Of course he's grabbing me and growling out threats and—

Des, stop. Focus.

"Uhhh..." is my distracted, braindead response as I do everything I can not to stare at his mouth. I try to focus only on his furious glare, directed solely at me. On the rage. On the fact that this man hates me and that will never change. On the fact that more than nothing right now, I need to fucking repent. The man has some sort of religious background anyway, maybe confessing will work in my favor.

"C-Can we just. You-uh... can... I just wanted to talk—"

Well, so much for that, since I can't even talk. Vaughn lets out a low noise of frustration before letting go of me with force. I'm actually thankful for this, ready to collect my brain cells off the floor and have an intelligent conversation. Except, he doesn't completely cease contact.

Nope, next thing I know he has a vice grip on my forearm and we are moving. I try to get my bearings as the man begins to drag me oat a steady pace, and even when I begin to struggle, it doesn't seem to make much of a difference. We are headed straight for the door, no pit stops. He just wants me out.

"Wait, wait—" I start to panic, because I am not stronger than this man but if he succeeds in kicking me out by force then there's nothing I can do. I won't be able to get back in the building, which means no talking, which means Winter doesn't feel better.

My entire body feels tingly because of all this contact, even if none of it has been skin to skin. Honestly, it might just be simply because I have his full attention, which always affects me. Still, I try to pull my wrist and struggle and protest the best I can, willing the man to change his mind and hear me out.

"Come on, I just want to—to work something out, okay?" I plead, trying to change his mind or at least get him to hear me out for a second. His pace doesn't falter, though, and then we are through the doorway. I stumble after him as we enter the smaller room with the register, which has a smooth tile floor that my shoes slide on. So, I can't get purchase anymore.

We're almost to the door, and then it's over. I lose Winter forever, and she cries the rest of the day.

This gives me the motivation to plant my feet as hard as possible and twist my arm in an all too familiar way, my last resort for escape since it momentarily puts me in a vulnerable position. Still, it's worth it, and then I'm turning my body and yanking with all my might until I've finally pulled myself free from his grip.

I stumble back, falling to the floor with a thud and panting. I try to catch my breath, holding myself up with my hands, legs spread, completely out of sorts as I try to get my bearings. Jesus Christ, does he wash his hands with superglue? The man is immediately turning around after I've freed myself, not even a millisecond of hesitation, and then he begins to walk toward me.

I, in turn, back up. The silhouette of Vaughn coming toward me in the lowlight would feel like a horror movie scene if he wasn't the hottest person who has ever existed. It's still kinda scary, though.

Des, calm down. Don't let your body betray you. You're doing so well at not completely fucking up the situation, just don't look at his arms. Or his face. Or the fact that you feel like prey right now—nothing new, but this time, it's not nearly as unwelcome as it has been in the past.

"Look, I just want to try to work something out," I get all the words out in a rush, panting. I wince when I try to scoot back further and hit the wall, watching as Vaughn just draws near and near. His eyes flash with warning, drilling into me with pure hate. I'm panting, and I can't tell how much of it is fear or exhaustion and how much is a twisted excitement.

"Okay? Please? What do I need to do for you to let me stay?" I ask him hopefully, and the man finally reaches in front of me. I notice red on his hands, predictably blood, and it's definitely from manhandling me so much. Since my clothes are covered in the substance due to the beating this morning. God, I'm only wearing boxers, too. They cover enough, again, especially since I have such a massive hoodie on. However, the fabric is thin.

I really need to keep myself calm. Vaughn needs to not touch me again, because—

"Woah, hang on—"

In a fluid movement, my entire body is lifted off the ground. He's grabbing me by the hoodie once again, but this time instead of just invading my personal space, yanking me toward him, he's physically lifting me.

Up.

Up.

Next thing I know, my entire body is pinned against the wall.

I'm pretty sure my soul transcends.

Genuinely. The only way I'm able to keep my sanity and ability to think is because I clench my eyes shut, but then it's all sensory. With my eyes closed, I can really feel him. His fist clenched into my hoodie, his other hand planted on the wall beside my head. The forearm of the hand that is holding my hoodie pressed down across my torso, pinning me in place. My legs dangle, I can't move, and I don't really want to.

When I start to feel a little too warm, I will the strength to open my eyes again. I am immediately met with the sight of Vaughn Torres, glaring down at me with his jaw clenched, patiently waiting for me to stop playing dead. His entire body is tensed in anger and rock solid, the lines of his ridiculously well groomed facial hair warp with the rest of his face into a sneer. Pure rage leaks off him in droves, and I wonder if I'm gonna die like this.

Wouldn't be a bad way to go, honestly. I've definitely met that risk in far worse situations, so I'm not opposed.

"There was a gun to my daughter's head." Vaughn's tone is full of venom, but there's something underlying. He talks slow and even, gaze drilling into my soul. I can't look away, my body beginning to tremble. My face starts to heat up. Oh no. "I see it every time I close my eyes. Now tell me why you think you deserve her."

All I can really do is gape at him, at a complete loss. It's then I'm finally able to place what else there is to this. That underlying, lingering feeling I can sense from him. Fear. Terror. He's unwilling to risk that happening to her again—she almost fucking died. I can't blame him. I'd hate me too. I... I do.

I don't know how to answer that question, because it's all wrong. It's... that's not what I think. I've never for one second believed I deserve to have Winter in my life, no matter how much I desperately want her there.

"I've never deserved her," I tell him quietly, still panting although it's beginning to go away as I slowly catch my breath. Vaughn's eyes narrow. "I tried to stay away in the beginning. I never wanted this to happen."

"Well, it did," Vaughn doesn't even wait a second. He steps even closer to me, and the increased proximity makes it a lot harder to avoid eye contact, which is distracting. I feel like I'm going to suffocate, and he's still shirtless. Still sweaty, with even more of my blood on him now. He's breathing a bit heavier now too, but it's not because of panic and arousal like with me. No, his is likely from pure vexation.

"It did," Vaughn reiterates. "And it never will again."

"It won't!" I immediately agree, tone borderline defensive. I shake my head rapidly, squirming a bit. I accidentally brush my knee between Vaughn's legs, which makes me instantly pull it away with enough force to knock it back against the wall painfully. Vaughn briefly glances down, but it's not long before I have his undivided attention again.

I hold my hands up in surrender, only growing more nervous with each passing second. My body just keeps feeling warmer and warmer, and my blood is rushing to areas, and this isn't good. I need it to be over, I need him to let go of me, no matter how much a very large, very annoying part of me doesn't want that at all.

"It won't," I emphasize. "I already got rid of the guy who did it—"

"Yeah, I saw."

Shit. Could this get any worse? I knew he might have seen me shoot Scooter point blank in the head with absolutely no hesitation, but I hadn't fully prepared for that to be true. That is absolutely not going to work in my favor. Ugh, I'm so stupid, I should've been more careful.

I can't help it, feeling a pang of shame and glancing off to the side, eyebrows pinching together. God, I never wanted this. I never wanted either of them to ever see me like that. Fucking Scooter. Miller is next, no doubt about it, and if this conversation doesn't work out with Vaughn then it's gonna be slow.

Whatever. My most moves past it easily, even if I continue to be bothered. My face feels warm. I don't know how much of it is embarrassment and... I don't know. Attraction.

What did I even expect, coming here? I knew he'd be pissed, I didn't know it would be a worst case fucking scenario. How on earth can I possibly convince him? Winter said I should tell him about how I take care of her, but that's stupid. I don't do it for recognition, and she's not some damsel in distress.

As much as I don't want to, I've hit my last resort.

I have to be honest.

I have to be really honest.

"I don't deserve her in my life, but I love her." I admit, finally. My voice is quiet, but I don't know if I'm even capable of talking louder right now. I flick my gaze up to Vaughn's and find the same anger. The same rage. My words mean nothing.

I sigh, maintaining eye contact no matter how much I just want to look away and submit. Not in a weird way, though. Maybe. "I know you don't believe me, but there's nothing I wouldn't do for your daughter, and right now I need her to stop crying."

As I speak, something about Vaughn falters. He still looks like he wants to kill me, but there appears to be a minuscule amount of hesitation. Slowly, he begins to cease our contact and let go of me.  My feet hit the floor and he even takes a step back, looking put off, but I can't tell if it's because he believes me or because he doesn't.

I don't let him get far. I'm all in, now, so I take a step forward in turn. This seems to surprise him, which is fair since I tend to avoid proximity to this man. Whatever, though. I'm passionate at the moment, I'm trying to prove something, I can play it off later. I lean forward, a bit closer to his face, and when I speak again I fucking mean it. "Nothing, Vaughn. Whatever it takes."

The man purses his lips, and I seem to have genuinely stumped him. I'm honestly just happy he isn't writing me off again, but to be fair, it's not common that I bear my feelings like that. I had to, though. I had to try one last thing. Now I'm just hoping it worked.

Luckily, my body is beginning to calm down. I no longer have pure heat and adrenaline rushing through my veins, threatening to expose the one secret that is truly mine. Something I'm so ashamed of I can barely bring myself to think about it, to admit it to myself. Something that would ruin every good part of my fucking life.

"If you want to stick around, that can never happen again," his voice finally cuts through the silence after an agonizing minute or so. At this point my body is still shaking and my face is still a bit flushed. Aside from that, I've thankfully mostly recovered from the hottest thing that's ever happened to me. "You need to leave everything behind."

I pause, honey gaze flicking up to meet his icy blue. I try to hide my hesitation, but he may catch it. "Everything."

"The drugs, the racing, the crime." Vaughn elaborates. "Drop it all. Anything that could hurt her. Within the month."

What the hell did he just say? I'd have preferred he just tell me to go fuck myself, honestly. "A month?"

"A month," he reaffirms, not budging in the slightest. His gaze doesn't waver, and I wonder if he has any understanding of how deep in this shit I am. There is no escaping Jane Doe. He probably doesn't, though, since I've put all my effort into hiding the extent of it for a long time

Also, I can't quit racing. I have a debt to pay, and that's where I make the most. It's also just generally very important to me and technically my second biggest passion, too. The drug dealing I wouldn't mind getting out of, but that is way easier said than done. It's fucking impossible.

Whatever. At this point I'll do anything to make Winter feel better. I'll agree to an impossible task if it at least buys me some time.

"Okay," I agree, not taking another second to decide.

Vaughn frowns, before tacking on, "and you're getting a real job."

Whatever that means. I nod too fast, hating the hope swelling up in my chest. I can see Winter again, at least for the time being. It's to the point where I'm trying not to smile, my mood having improved far more than I expected, and I can't even remember the last time that happened.

Something actually worked out for once!

When I make eye contact again, not even realizing I had averted my gaze, I find Vaughn just looking away. He steps away from me and begins walking toward the door, abruptly ending the conversation.

"Now go."

I can't even be upset at his coldness.

As I finally take my exit, though, I'm not as focused on my success as I should be.

No, the whole drive to Winter's house, all I can feel are his hands on me.