Grifter|| A Love Story||

Chapter 3

If Bastian was running from someone or some sort of organization, they could be anywhere. At any time. Watching my place, compromising my six-year disappearing act, which would land me in prison for a very----very long time if I was ever found out.

I hovered over him, eyes examining the blood coming from a small hole in his upper arm.

"So--what will it be? Can you save me?" He said through a grimace, moving his fingers a little, revealing his small wound to me.

"Is it in there?" His ocean blue eyes met mine, those same eyes I couldn't resist as a teenager.

Hell---even as an adult. He could have talked me into an elaborate scheme or out of anything--specifically my clothes, at the flick of his eyes.

At this moment though---his eyes radiated an intense amount of pain. Boring into me with desperation, begging me to fix him and rid him of his discomfort. His normally tanned skin; pale as a ghost. Sweat pouring down his face in large droplets, breaths heaving and uneven like he had been running for a very long time.

"Not sure," he grunted, shifting his body to get more comfortable against the wall he leaned on.

Before I could even think about bringing him inside my sanctuary. I had to know what he had been up to. He could be the enemy now for all I know.
He could be here to con me and take me for everything I had built. Lucky for me, I knew all the tricks up his sleeves. All his cons and all his facial expressions, there was no lying to me. It was impossible for him.

"You look me in the eye right now and you tell me if you're going to con me. And don't lie, I'll be able to tell." I demanded more calmly than I thought I'd be. He smirked again--giving me that ole Bastian grin--- shaking his head in disbelief. But he did it. He looked me square in the eye and humored me.

"I am not here to con you. I need you, Lexie." Dammit, it. The way he said need--the way it dripped off his tongue like a song, I know it was true. The sharp glimmer in his eyes--the spark. The spark I had always seen lying behind his eyes, the spark reserved for me.

And only me.

"I'm either off my game or you're telling the truth. Get inside before your DNA gets all over my porch." I barked, trying to keep up my tough exterior. I couldn't melt for him again and again. I was beyond done melting and bending backward for Bastian Greene, I was no longer his puddle to step in.

He crawled into the house on his knees, making his way towards the basement door a few feet away. I took one last look around, listening to the children playing outside. No screams. No people lingering around looking my way. Just one car door slamming shut.

"Remember the room we played in as kids before my grandparents took it over?" I flipped on the light to the basement, watching as he towered over me. Craning my neck to stare into his hurting eyes.

Damn, I had forgotten how tall he was compared to me. I felt like a midget compared to him.

"That's where we used to sneak off to make-out, of course, how could I forget?" I rolled my eyes again. Of course! Of course, he's the same cocky asshole from years ago, even if he was in immense pain.

Constantly reminding me of our past together. Reminding me of the sinful deeds we concealed in the little hidden room in the basement of my grandparent's house.

That dusty 'ole room where I'd sneak him into because my grandma hated him so much, she wouldn't even think to look there. Until she did, of course, catching us in an intense lip-lock. Maybe a few missing pieces of clothing too. Hands in places they shouldn't have been. And that was the day, he lost his privileges in the house, banished like a naughty dog.