Right Through Me

T H I R T Y F O U R

Why do I love him? When did it start to happen?

He saw right through me. But how? 

He would've never been my type but now...I can't even think of someone else.

"Lina, Lina!" my dad called, finally pulling me out of my trance.

I looked at him, blinking rapidly. "I'm sorry," I said quickly. "What were you saying?"

"Is everything alright?" he asked, sighing deeply as he played with the edge of his beer glass. "You've been out of it all afternoon, should you go home and rest?"

"Oh, no, no. I'm fine, I swear," I assured him. "I was just thinking."

"What about?"

Your stupid boss or brother or whatever the fuck you call each other.

"Oh, not a lot, just thinking," I said, laughing sheepishly. "It's just been a busy week."

He nodded, seeming to understand, and took a slow drink of his beer. 

"Could I--" I began, leaning forward to talk to him directly. "Could I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"What kind of person is Donovan Ander?"

"Donovan?" he asked, setting down his glass and thinking about it clearly. "Well, he's a very good president. He helped bring the club back up from it's low; he, so far, has been the youngest President. He's hard-headed, hard-working, determined; very literal, not really a funny guy."

I'd beg to differ. I rolled my eyes and sighed heavily. "What's his problem?" I mumbled.

"I couldn't say," he said, hearing my statement. "He's just been...grumpy. He's a tough guy, tried yelling at me the other day but today he walked in and apologized. He didn't really tell me much about what's going on...just said it was complicated."

"Complicated?" I shrieked, scoffing audibly and crossing my arms over my chest. "He has some damn nerve. Like he's the one suffering. Oh, look at me, I just got dumped to the curb so now Imma act like a dick to everyone," I said, mocking Donovan's deep voice at the end. "I'd just love to slap him across the face."

"Was he really that bad when you had to treat him after the fights?" he laughed, taking another drink of the beer.

"Oh yeah, he was picky and pushy. He wouldn't leave me alone, said I had to be the one to be his personal doctor and all of this other crap--"

"Do you know why he doesn't go to the doctor?" he interrupted, catching my attention. "I knew him way back when he was a youngster. He was a cute little kid, quiet as ever, everyone believed him to be mute. Well, all through his childhood he was very sick and weak. He was skinny and small and he always got sick, always. He went through so many procedures, surgeries at such a young age; it traumatized him."

"What?" I gasped, completely shocked.

"Yeah, you would've never guessed by the way he looks now. He struggled so much, his immune system was so incredibly weak it was hard for him to do anything. He was depressed all the time, talked less and less than ever before. After he got out from a surgery, it was as if a little piece of him left behind in that operating room," he said, shaking his head. "Then, when he was about ten, he just...started getting better. Began to make such a great recovery. However, he didn't bother going to the doctor ever again. That was, what, almost twenty years ago?"

"That long?" I asked, completely astonished that something like that actually happened to him.

"I hate to say it, but if he let you, a doctor, even ten feet before him then you must mean a lot to him."

Holy fucking shit.

"You must mean a lot to him."

I stood up abruptly, my chair flying back and catching the attention of the other customers in the restaurant. "Oh, my God," I said quickly, grabbing my purse. "Dad--Aaron--Dad...I have to go!" I said quickly, kissing him on the cheek and rushing out of the restaurant.

* * * * *

I entered the Southside Banshee's clubhouse and moved over to the bar, Steer already eyeing my with a hint of disgust in his eyes.

"Where is he?" I asked him.

"Who?"

"Enough of the fucking games, Steer. Where is Donovan?"

"Don't know, he ain't here," he said, gulping down his beer.

"If you don't tell me where he is I will tell everyone here that you are in love with Leslie," I threatened, watching as his face paled with horror and then twisted with anger.

"I don't love her!" he snapped.

"Where is he?!" I snapped back.

He clenched his jaw and looked away from me, sighing heavily. "At Diane's."

* * * * *

"Lina!" Diane said happily, opening the door and hugging me happily. "What are you doing here?"

The cat had my tongue. I couldn't bring myself to say it or speak at all. I just smiled. "Just stopping by."

She smiled and let me in and we both moved to the kitchen. "Wait, Diane--"

"He's in the guest room, third door to the left," she said, smiling warmly at me. "Go ahead."

I gave her a look that practically screamed my thanks and slowly moved down the hall. My legs felt heavier than ever before and I couldn't help but stop right before the door. I stood there for a moment, realizing that I was actually doing this.

What am I doing? Seriously. I should go home. I can't do this.

Right when I was about to back out, when I was about to move back down the hall and leave as if I had never shown up, the door swung open and there stood Donovan, shirtless with nothing but a pair of grey sweats on that hung incredibly low on his waist. 

I gulped audibly, my eyes widening and I stared up at him, meeting his blue-eyed stare. 

"What are you doing here?" he asked, the same dullness in his voice.

I felt discouraged. I no longer wanted to even say anything. I felt so pissed, so angry, that he was using the same damn tone of voice with me as ever.

"The bathroom is that way," he said, irritation evident in his voice.

The anger was finally getting to me and I reached up and slapped him across the face, his head flew to the side and stayed there while hot tears already began to stream down my face. 

"You damn asshole," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Why didn't you tell me? What didn't you stop me?!"

He was quiet. He kept his mouth shut and slowly turned his head back to face me, looking at me with an unknown emotion on his face. 

"I shouldn't have even come here," I snapped. "To think you even felt anything for me."

I began to leave but he grabbed my wrist and spun me around. Right when I was about to yell at him to let me go, he grabbed my face and smashed his lips down on mine.