I made sure to slam the door extra hard as I stormed out of our house. That was the last thing I ever said to my father, ‘I hate you’, and it was the last time I saw him alive.
Uncle Mick’s house was much like ours; a busy family home full of noise and laughter when everyone got together. Today was no different. Uncle Mick was outside manning the barbecue and dressed in his comedy apron. Gloria was checking the outside bar they’d set up and counting the bottles and glasses. I recognised a few of the other people here as friends, or rather acquaintances, of my parents. I instantly made a beeline for Gloria and her bar, consciously leaving Jackson behind. I wasn’t his babysitter today, thank God. If he wanted to network, he was on his own. Me, I came to see old friends and hopefully lose myself in some daytime drinking.
“Ryley, you look lovely.” She beamed at me. “Want to try my new cocktail?” Gloria held up a cocktail shaker filled with some dubious-looking pink substance. I didn’t want to be rude, so I agreed. I had to fight to keep the drink down after my first sip, it was so bitter.
“Mmm, it’s great, thanks.” I put the cocktail glass down, knowing I’d conveniently forget that drink when I walked away.
“I hear your mum and dad are coming home soon. Sounds like they’ve had the adventure of a lifetime.”
I nodded, but I didn’t elaborate. I felt embarrassed that I’d been dodging their calls for weeks. They’d know I was here today though. Gloria couldn’t keep anything secret.
“Where’s that handsome man of yours?” She smirked.
I was about to run off a list of all the awful places I hoped Justin was suffering in, when I stopped myself, realising she meant Jackson.
“Oh, I think he’s here somewhere.”
I made a weak effort to glance around, as if I was actually interested in looking for him. He didn’t blend in all that well though. His tall, muscular frame made him stand out head and shoulders above everyone else. I saw him standing over by Uncle Mick at the barbecue, awkwardly rocking his new jeans. He looked like he might bolt at any minute, he was so out of his comfort zone. Another woman I didn’t recognise was with them. She was laughing at whatever they were talking about, despite neither man breaking out into a smile. She couldn’t have been more obvious about her flirting if she’d worn a bloody sandwich board to advertise the fact. It bothered me way more than it should have.
“Don’t let Allie over there make you jealous. She’s a cougar and damn proud of it too, but she stands no chance next to you, love,” Gloria said, trying to make me feel better.
Did I look jealous? I hoped not. I picked up one of the glasses of champagne from Gloria’s tray of drinks, and took a huge swig of the sweet, chilled cure for all life’s problems.
“I’m not worried.”
I turned to look again at Allie the cougar, and in that exact moment, Jackson turned and caught my eye. He smiled and my stomach flipped over. What was that? Was it nerves? I was scared to think about it in any depth. I had enough to think about with Justin and his cheating ass, I didn’t need any extra stress. I certainly wasn’t ready to think about dating again, or even thinking about another man in that way. But the problem was, I had been thinking about another man. I’d found myself thinking about him more and more lately. It worried me, because all of my instincts were telling me to stay away from any man like Jackson. He was bad news. But I was never very good at doing what I was told.
I finished my glass of champagne, enjoying how the bubbles made my nerves settle down, and grabbed a second glass to keep the feeling going. I spotted Ben and Sal sitting by the pool, and I felt relieved to find somebody closer to my own age to chat to. Maybe this day wasn’t a total washout after all.
“Hey you two. How are you? I haven’t seen you for ages.”
Ben and Sal stood up when they saw me, and Sal gave me a massive hug.
“Ryley, it’s so good to see you. Mum said you were coming, I’m so glad you did.”
I took a seat in between them and spent the next hour or so catching up with my old childhood friends. It wasn’t until Jackson came over to ask me to go with him for some food that I realised I’d drunk as much as I had. Standing up gave me a head rush and I felt giddy and slightly nauseous.
Ben stood up and held his hand out for Jackson to shake, introducing himself as he did. But Jackson did his usual asshole routine and totally ignored him, ushering me away forcefully like he was saving me from some unknown danger.
“I think you need to slow it down with the alcohol therapy,” he whispered as I stumbled against him.
“I’ll drink as much as I want,” I said, using his solid frame to steady myself.
He stopped and stood still, using his body to block out the rest of the party behind him.
“I’m not gonna let you make a fool of yourself in front of your friends. If you keep drinking like you are, you’ll be face down in a bush in an hour. You need to eat something, soak it up.”
I tutted at him, irritated that he was trying to sabotage my fun.
“I have more class than that. Don’t judge me by your past dates’ behaviours,” I slurred.
“Why are you drinking like you’ve just dragged yourself through the desert?”
“Because, it makes me feel good and it helps me forget. I like that it’s numbing my emotions. I feel happy. Maybe you should try it? Oh wait, I forgot. You don’t have any emotions to numb, do you?”
He didn’t scowl at me like I’d expected, just did that disappointed look that I hated.
“So, that’s your answer, is it? Your boyfriend cheats on you so you’re just gonna drink the pain away.”
“If I want to drink, I will. If I want to stop, I can. I’m in control. I’m always in control.”
“You don’t look very ‘in control’ to me right now, Ryley. In fact, I think we should go home.” He put his hand on my elbow to steer me towards the house, but I pulled away from him. I felt under attack.
“No way. You can leave if you want, but I’m staying. I haven’t seen Sal for ages and I’m having a good time. What’s your problem? Isn’t Allie your type?”
“Who the fuck is Allie?” he growled, looking completely confused.
“The cougar. You know, that woman over by Uncle Mick who was laughing at everything you said. What she finds funny about you though, I’ve no idea.”
“You’re drunk, and you’re not a good drunk, Ryley. You need to come home before you do or say something you’ll regret tomorrow.”
“I don’t need to do anything you say.”
“No, you don’t.” He pulled me to the side out of earshot of the other guests around us. “But trust me when I say, you don’t want to go down this road. Drinking isn’t the way to deal with your problems. You’re not facing them, you’re just avoiding them and hurting yourself more.”
I wasn’t ready for his dose of reality. “It’s the best I can do for now,” I answered truthfully.
I knew what he was saying, but I didn’t want to hear it. How I chose to deal with Justin’s betrayal was on me. I liked how the drink made me feel, and in that moment, that was enough.
“Fine, stay. Drink yourself into oblivion and make a fool of yourself with the mayor’s son, but I’m leaving. Your uncle is a good man. He’s agreed to my applications, and he’s pledged money for the charity. I don’t want to stay around here and watch you jumping off the proverbial cliff.”
He turned and walked towards the house, leaving me gawping after him. What the hell did he mean, make a fool of myself with Ben? I stood, toying with the idea of staying and keeping the party going. But my legs began to work on automatic pilot, carrying me into the house after Jackson. The other half of me knew I wasn’t in a good place. I wasn’t good around other people. Perhaps a few more drinks at home on my own in my room would be better. That’d help me sleep, and keep the images of Justin at bay for another day. It’d also keep thoughts of Jackson from swirling around my head. That was the answer to everything, after all. Get throug
h the day, any way I possibly could.
Days turned into weeks, and I found myself turning to the ever faithful bottle more and more. Sure it fucked up my days pretty bad, and I spent a lot of time hiding in my room. But the nights were so much better when I was numb, dizzy, and oblivious to the cruelty that was my world. Alcohol had become my new best friend.
I found myself opening the wine earlier and earlier, figuring it wasn’t so bad starting a bottle at three in the afternoon. After all, it was like medicine to me. The medicine to numb the pain.
Jackson didn’t say a word to me about my drinking after the barbecue. Occasionally, he gave me disapproving glances, or tutted if I walked past him with my drink, but I was good at zoning him out. In fact, we’d built up a pretty good thing with our cohabitating. I never saw him much; he was always out at work or terrorizing innocent people. Whatever it was he did to subsidise his income from the clubs. Sometimes I heard him playing his piano in the night, but I was usually too drunk to leave my bed. Those nights, I appreciated the extra lull to sleep.
I liked living at Jackson’s. It was the perfect hiding place, because apart from Sylvie and Cillian, no one ever visited. At first, my friends were constantly blowing up my phone, and my parents called daily too. I didn’t answer though. I let every call go to voicemail. I didn’t want to talk about Justin, or about anything in my real life. I was happy to drift through my days sipping my cares away. Damn, I even looked forward to that first drink of the day.
After a week or two, the calls petered off. Daisy still rang, and my mum, but that was all. I knew who my real friends were, and who really cared. It was times like this that showed you who you could rely on. Funnily enough, Cillian came round most days. He tried to use his humour to get me to see things his way, and always told me how worried Jackson was about me. Who knew the devil’s sidekick would become one of my trusted circle? He got it. He got me. I liked that he told me what he thought, but didn’t push me to change my ways.
Then there was Sylvie, my new surrogate mum and part-time angel. She kept me fed and gave me her motherly advice. I smiled and agreed with everything she said to appease her. When she left for the day, I’d pack up her good will into the box in my brain, and start the circle of drinking and passing out all over again. I didn’t have a problem. I could stop if I wanted to, but I didn’t want to.
Friday night, and instead of having my usual party in my bedroom, I’d agreed to accompany Jackson to a charity gala. I hadn’t done nearly enough work to bring his centre to the forefront like I’d promised. Maybe this was my way of trying to make amends? Pay for my board and booze, if you like.
I’d insisted I had a dress to wear, but Jackson had sent another outfit over direct from Harrods. A silver, sequinned full-length gown, fitted at the body but flared at the bottom. It was strapless and made me feel like a million dollars. I sipped wine as I got ready, straightening my hair until it was sleek and hung down to my ass.
When I walked out into the living area, I had hoped I’d get an appreciative look. Hell, maybe even a compliment. But he screwed his face up.
“What’ve you done to your hair?”
I ran my fingers through it and frowned back at him.
“I straightened it. Why?”
“I like the curls.” From the expression on his face, you’d think I’d destroyed my curls forever.
“Don’t panic, they’ll be back tomorrow. Or sooner if it rains. The wet, damp air always makes my hair go frizzy.”
“Does that go for buckets of water too?”
I laughed. “Not if you want me to actually stick around tonight and do this damn networking for you.”
“I might have to resort to the bucket of water if you drink at the same rate you have been lately.”
My jovial mood instantly soured, and I walked towards the door.
“Ever thought I might drink to drown you out?”
“I know why you do it, Ryley. Trust me, I’ve let it go for a long time now, but things have got to start changing around here.”
“You’re right. I need to get my own place. Then you don’t have to see me drinking anymore.”
The event was being held in an upmarket hotel in the city. There was the usual crowd of stuck up rich folk, with their air kisses and habit of blowing smoke up each other’s asses.
We walked in together. Jackson held his hand at the small of my back, but I pushed away from him and made my way over to the free bar.
“Remember, pace yourself. I’m not saying you can’t drink tonight, but we have got a few hours here. There’s a meal and a presentation first. After that, the night’s yours, but before then just try to stay as sober as you can. I’m not asking for a lot, but I don’t want people thinking our charity is a joke.”
My back went up. “Is one of those awards for how much of a worthless piece of shit you’re making me feel right now?”
I turned my back to him and ordered a glass of wine and a shot of vodka.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like a piece of shit. I’m just looking out for you.”
“Is that what you call it? I know what your brand of protection involves. I can do without that, thank you very much.”
Cillian sidled up to us, with his trademark half-smile and twinkle in his eyes.
“Evening, lovers, and how are we both tonight?” He gestured for the barman’s attention and ordered a whiskey on ice.
“I could say we’re fine, but I’d rather tell the truth.” I gulped my shot of vodka back in one go, and then took a sip of my wine. It wasn’t enough. I needed more.
“You know, you don’t have to stay here with me,” I said, looking Jackson’s way. “You can go off. Do some soul searching. Who knows, maybe you’ll find one.”
To my surprise, he didn’t react, or throw back an equally sarcastic response like he usually did. He wasn’t playing ball tonight. Why was that?
“I’m not taking your bait. Insult me all you want.” He sipped his whiskey and leant on a bar stool, as if he was a freaking god. He looked like he owned the room and all the people in it; he was so arrogant.
“I’ve met some pricks in my time, but you are a fucking cactus.” I was goading him, I knew that, but I couldn’t stop.
“Watch your language,” he hissed through gritted teeth, and I couldn’t help but laugh.
“That’s all you’ve got? Watch my language.” I gulped the rest of my wine down then slammed my glass on the bar. I leant forward over the bar to catch the barman’s attention, hoping to get a hasty refill.
“What? You want me to start a fight with you here in front of everyone?” He shook his head and leant into me. “Not gonna happen.” He sighed and put his whiskey down then reached forward and pulled my arm so I was standing closer to him. Cillian just looked awkward and moved away from us.
“I’m worried about you, okay? I do care, you know. I do have feelings. Contrary to what you might think. I know you like to paint me as some kind of devil, but I care about you, Ryley. I don’t like standing by and watching what he’s done to you, what you’re doing to yourself. I’m not gonna stand by and watch it anymore. After tonight, I’m getting you some help.”
He looked at me with pain and what could’ve passed for empathy. I felt conflicted, at odds with wanting to escape the real world, and scared to find out what it would be like if I did let myself feel again. I couldn’t deny he was getting under my skin, and that unnerved me. He made me feel things that petrified me almost as much as the whole Justin cheating thing. If I couldn’t trust Justin, who I’d known for all those years, how could I trust a man like Jackson? And yet, I could feel myself being drawn to him. He was like a magnet that I was fighting tooth and nail to repel with my failsafe sarcasm and bitter put-downs. We were opposites and we couldn’t attract, not now… not ever. It’d never work. I knew I was using every tool I had in my arsenal to keep him at arm’s length, and most times it worked. But it wasn’t working tonight. He wasn’t guarded like he usually was.
He seemed to want to keep me close, to protect me. It made me uneasy.
“When I see your face, there’s nothing I would change,” I said, and his face softened. “Except the direction I’m walking in.”
I picked up my glass and walked away from them both, determined to get through this night and come out the other side as pain-free as I could.
JACKSON
She infuriated the hell out of me, and for the first time in my life, I truly cared about what happened to someone other than myself.
“Damn. That girl could not be more obvious if she tried,” Cill said in his usual cryptic way.
“What? That she hates me?”
“Err, no. I think the lady does protest too much.”
I didn’t have time for his weird comments.
“What are you even on about?”
“What I mean is, she’s using her sarcasm to cover up her real feelings for you.”
I had to admit he’d spiked my interest.
“Which are?” I hadn’t a clue what was going to come out of Cill’s mouth next. I’d known the guy for years, ever since we were teenagers from the streets, and he could still surprise the hell out of me.
“That given the chance she’d ride you hard, like a cowgirl rides a mechanical bull at a rodeo.”
I almost choked on my whiskey. Where the hell did he get this stuff?
“Admit it.” He smirked. “You’re picturing that too, right?”
I had to laugh. Most of the time I found Cill juvenile, irritating and irresponsible. But I kept him around because he always lightened my dark moods and reminded me where I’d come from and why I was the man I am today. He’d stood by me through life on the streets. Listened to me talk about my father, and why it was so important for me to have my revenge on the man who’d wronged us all those years ago. He also understood why things had changed since Ryley had walked into our lives. He just got me, and not many people did.
This Cruel Love (A Dark Hearts Stand-Alone Novel Book 2) Page 16