Bo Sinclair

It wasn’t often that he ventured out of Ambrose anymore these days, content to live out his days working on the town and helping his brother bring his mother’s dream to life. There were times, however, when the quiet town and its lack of life ate at him, the silence hanging in the air until he couldn’t focus on anything but his own heart beating beneath his skin, the blood rushing in his veins. He could usually fight it off, throw himself into another project, but tonight it had all been too much and he’d been craving a drink. That was how he’d found himself getting in his truck and driving to the next town over to the closest bar he could find.

It felt like every pair of eyes in the building moved to fall on him as he pushed through the door and he took a deep breath to ground himself, swallowing his nerves. People made him antsy, past trauma and abuse making him weary of everyone he met. He didn’t fit in their society and despite how normal he tried to pretend to be, it always felt like somehow they knew. Like they could see into his soul. He hated it. Still, he’d came for a drink, and a drink he was going to get, dammit.

He sat himself on an uncomfortable stool at the bar and allowed himself a glance around, taking in his fellow patrons. Everything seemed as you’d expect. A couple younger looking customers, students perhaps, passed out drunk at their tables, their bodies slumped over in a way that was sure to leave them aching the next morning; A group of burly men in the corner, talking and laughing too loudly for it to be considered anything but obnoxious.

Cain was struggling to breath. So many memories of his childhood all at once slamming in his head. Each word Bo spoke had him flinching, even if only a little. "I thought ya' got sick of me." It was soft and scared, uncharacteristic fear creeping from Cain's words. He could remember this same thing happening with his father, except his father did a lot more screaming and hitting then Bo had. Maybe that was a good thing, though. It was helping Cain understand that Bo wasn't his father. "Sorry." He croaked out, blinking rapidly as he tried to shake them away. He hadn't cried in so long, it had his head throbbing in pain, and his chest tight in unfamiliar emotions.

“Got sick of you?” Bo asked, his face blank. “Got sick of you?” He repeated, his tone bordering on mockery. “There ain’t a version o’ me in all the universes that could ever get tired of you,” the words were loving in nature but the deliverance of them was not, his teeth gritted and bared like a wild animal. He hated that he could feel tears in his own eyes, his heart aching in his chest. He wanted to break something so badly, wanted to pick up his knife and have it find home in something.

It wasn’t often that he ventured out of Ambrose anymore these days, content to live out his days working on the town and helping his brother bring his mother’s dream to life. There were times, however, when the quiet town and its lack of life ate at him, the silence hanging in the air until he couldn’t focus on anything but his own heart beating beneath his skin, the blood rushing in his veins. He could usually fight it off, throw himself into another project, but tonight it had all been too much and he’d been craving a drink. That was how he’d found himself getting in his truck and driving to the next town over to the closest bar he could find.

It felt like every pair of eyes in the building moved to fall on him as he pushed through the door and he took a deep breath to ground himself, swallowing his nerves. People made him antsy, past trauma and abuse making him weary of everyone he met. He didn’t fit in their society and despite how normal he tried to pretend to be, it always felt like somehow they knew. Like they could see into his soul. He hated it. Still, he’d came for a drink, and a drink he was going to get, dammit.

He sat himself on an uncomfortable stool at the bar and allowed himself a glance around, taking in his fellow patrons. Everything seemed as you’d expect. A couple younger looking customers, students perhaps, passed out drunk at their tables, their bodies slumped over in a way that was sure to leave them aching the next morning; A group of burly men in the corner, talking and laughing too loudly for it to be considered anything but obnoxious.

Again, she got the feeling that he was leaving something out, that there was more to what he was saying, but she didn't bring it up.

"Certainly, circumstances haven't changed." she said, trying to ignore the giddy feeling him just holding her hand caused, and added witha grin "As I said before - if I were to get kidnapped or murdered might as well be a handsome stranger"

Gods fucking dammit. That voice would be her ruin. She blushed, again, just when she'd calmed down a little. She wondered if he knew what effect he had on her, but she was pretty obvious and he seemed way more experienced than her. "I mean, thanks for hanging out with me? And buying me a drink. And offering to walk me to the bus stop."

And then they'd part and never see each other again.

Yeah, that thought hurt.

"On that topic... well, turns out that all buses that go in the direction I have to go are cancelled due to some road block or something" she said, annoyance more than obvious. "Around here that could mean anything from a fucking brick on the street to a collapsed building - so I'll be walking a whole lot further. I think like half an hour to fourty-five minutes? So I better get going, and don't worry, I'm not gonna insist you walk me that far. I'll be fine."

Bo smiled darkly at her next words, finding her oblivious nature amusing. He doubted she’d be so sure if she knew who he really was, they never were. “Least ya’d have somethin’ nice t’ look at, right?” He joked back, although there was something more to his words.

Bo nodded his head. “No need t’ thank me. I didn’t do nothin’ but hang out with a pretty girl,” He smirked, raising a brow. “Perhaps I should be the one thankin’ you. Wouldn’t have been right, leavin’ you t’ drink alone,” He lifted his own drink, taking a sip despite his eyes never leaving hers.

His eyes sharpened, the pros and cons of his different options playing out in his mind like a movie. He could let her go on her way, leave her to whatever fate may come. The men might follow her, or she may make it home. Or he could offer her a ride. Hell, he could shoot his shot, see if she’d want t’ head on home with him, maybe have a little fun and then..

“Don’t be silly. I got a truck,” He grinned, standing from his seat. “and I’m not so sure I’m ready t’ leave ya’ jus’ yet. I know a place, if ya’ wanna get outta here?”

His comment made her chuckle. "Exactly." There was something about the way he said it, his smile, that was somewhat unsettling - but also excited her. He was certainly an intriguing person.

Pretty girl. He'd called her pretty. She didn't know how, but he did manage to just keep getting her more flustered. Her face, her whole body felt hot, and she took a moment to drink something as well. It was almost embarrassing how easily he was affecting her.

I got a truck.

He was offering her a ride.

To "a place".

Her heart sped up and she wished she could say it was suspicion or fear, but... it was excitement. The overwhelming need to take risks, throw herself into danger. Then again, what were her options? The creepy men had immediately looked over when Bo had gotten up, and chances were they might follow her if she left alone.

And even though she wasn't as helpless as it might have looked, that prospect just didn't seem too desirable. So, why not take a chance?

"Getting attached already?" she said, grinning up at him. "Honestly can't wait, not the biggest fan of our... company. Probaly anywhere is better than here."

His heart thumped harshly in his chest as he awaited her answer, the adrenaline of uncertainty causing his breathing to pick up. He didn’t mind, it could easily be mistaken for nervousness.

He let out a chuckle at her question, shrugging his shoulders. “What can I say?” He asked, his tone warm and playful. “Any guy would get attached to a girl like you,” his smile dropped as he stole a glance at the other bar hoppers, his face twisting into a scowl as he shot them a warning look. “They won’t touch you with me around.”