CRIMINAL.

CHAPTER 15

I don't know how long I've been sitting here, in the dark.

Minutes?

Hours?

Days?

Months?

Years, maybe?

I don't know. But I do know that the tears have stopped falling, but they leave a hollow feeling in my chest.

Why would Josh think I want him? I mean, he's like family to me, and what he did was wrong. And yet...I had sat with him in the kitchen and I did put my hand on his and smiled at him, but that was only to reassure him. That was only because he kept saying horrible things about himself. Did he think I was giving him some sort of unspoken invitation? Did my kindness seem like something more to him?

I close my eyes, letting out a breath as I push my hair back.

Ricky.

He looked so hurt when Josh told him everything that happened in the kitchen. Does he think I want Josh? I hope not. I don't want anything to do with his brother. I want Ricky. I want Ricky, and only Ricky. The fact of it startles me, and leaves an aching in my heart.

I freeze when I hear the door to the bathroom creak open and the light flicks on, flooding the room in a warm, bright light. The door shuts and a silhouette moves behind the drawn-shower curtain.

Before he even pulls it back, I know that it's Ricky.

He's shirtless, his silver cross necklace glittering in the florescent lights above. His tattoos seem clearer as do his whole face. His cheekbones sharp, his eyes beautiful and clear.

I don't look at him even as he climbs into the bathtub with me, sitting in front of me. I don't have to make room since the bathtub takes up most of the left side of the room.

I keep my head down, focusing on the chipped, red nail polish on my toes. My concentration is suddenly broken when Ricky gently puts a gun in the middle of the bathtub. It skitters for a few minutes, spinning to the left before stopping.

"It's loaded," he says, "but it's on safety lock. Almost pulled this on Josh in the hallway after you left. He was going downstairs and when Louis let me go, I ran into my bedroom and pulled out my gun. I ran past everyone, ignoring their yelling, and ran downstairs towards Josh. I was close to shooting him when Scott wrestled me to the floor and took the gun out of my hand." He laughs, but there's no humor in it at all. "Cried like a fucking baby for two hours after Josh left. Louis calmed me down though."

"He's a good friend," I say quietly.

"He is," Ricky agrees, and sighs.

Silence swells between us, and I'm desperate to make it go away.

I go over everything I want to say to him, but in the end, all that comes out is, "I'm sorry."

Then more and, surprisingly, tears.

"I'm so sorry, Ricky. I never meant to hurt you."

My tears fall on the floor of the bathtub, leaving wet spots there.

"I really did do all of those things in the kitchen," I sob. "But that was only because he was saying these terrible things about himself, and I didn't want to see him so upset. Not because I wanted him."

Another choked sob comes out along with a rush of words. 

"I don't want him, Ricky. Ever. I want you. Don't you understand? I want you, Ricky! Now, and forever."

And then a whisper, so quiet and so choked, it takes me a minute to realize it's me;

"I love you."