Blake
Pushing a cherry Danish towards Rachelle as she taps incessantly at her cell phone, I ask, “Do you want to talk?”
She shakes her head and pushes the food back as she seemingly ignores me. I have no idea of what I did to piss her off, but she is most definitely pissed for some damn reason.
I take the plate with the pastry on it and take it back to the little kitchen. “What would you like to do today, babe?”
Her tapping stops and I glance at her to find her looking at me with what I believe is a glare for some reason. “Oh, you haven’t already set up our day, dear?”
“That was quite the sarcastic tone. And if you want to know, I thought we might look around at some places for your restaurant.” I walk back into the living room and sit next to her on the sofa.
She scoots away a little and taps away again at her phone. “I don’t want to do that today.”
“Okay,” I say and lean over, nudging her shoulder with mine. “Wanna fool around?”
Her dark blue eyes level on mine. “No!”
Placing my hand over her phone, I press it down and take her chin in my other hand. “Okay, spill it. What has you so mad?”
“You held me to you all night!” she says with clenched teeth as if it’s some horrible thing I did. “I couldn’t even move until I hit you in the ribs to make you let me go.”
“Is that why you did that?” I rub the place on my ribcage that still is tender from that. “Baby, you could’ve just woke me up and I would’ve let you go. No need for violence.” I chuckle and she frowns.
“I tried to get away from you twice. Do you think I need you to hold me when I sleep? Do you think I need to be taken care of? Do you think I even want that?” The way her eyes go dark, and not in a good way, has me wondering what’s happening in her head.
“Look, the whole abandonment issue thing is complicated, but this is a prime example of….”
She screams and gets up. “Stop! Just stop it!” She throws her hands up in the air as she paces in the small living room. “You’re no therapist. I haven’t even looked for one as I don’t think I’m as fucked up as you think I am.”
“I never called you, fucked up, Rachelle!” I stand up too. “I just want to help…”
She holds up her little hand, stopping me. “Help me, I know. You’ve said it more than once in the last couple of weeks since we’ve known each other. By the way, Blake. Who the fuck tells someone they love them after only two weeks, huh? Talk about having issues!”
She may have just punched me in the stomach as the same amount of wind is knocked from of me. “Rachelle! Don’t act like you don’t love me too. You just don’t want to admit it yet.”
Her eyebrows go way up on her forehead. “Excuse me! Do you read minds too, Mr. I Know Everything and You Should Allow Me to Run Your Life?”
With an eye-roll, I say, under my breath, “That’s a bit of a long last name, babe. Anyway, I can tell from how you react to me that you do, if you must know.”
A loud laugh comes from her mouth and she makes some grand gestures and bows in front of me. “Well, let me be the first to bow at your feet, King of Great Sex! You are a very good lover, Blake. My body likes what you do to it, okay? It does not mean I love you! Okay?”
“What we’ve had is so much more than sex and you know it, Rachelle. It’s the fear of abandonment that has you talking and acting like this. You’re trying to push me away before you allow yourself to really fall for me. But it’s useless, cause I’m going nowhere. I’m in it for the long haul, baby.” I sit back down and she glares at me.
“Get out! Get the fuck out, Blake!” she shrieks at me. “You can’t tell me you’re not going anywhere. This is my damn house. My damn money pays the bills around here and it’s me who decides who stays here. Not you! Boss man!”
I take a deep breath and try to de-escalate this situation. “Baby, just sit down and let’s talk rationally for a minute. I know it’s early, but how about a little of that left over mimosa from yesterday to help calm you down?”
“Are you suggesting that getting me drunk will help me to fall into your little Stepford Wife ideal of what relationships are like, Blake?” she hisses at me. “I’m me. Faults and all. This is me, man!”
“Your only real fault is thinking you’re not worthy of love, Rachelle.”
“And yours is that you are a control freak.” She sits down on the opposite end of the sofa and looks away from me.
I remain quiet, hoping she’ll calm down and realize this is her issue with being left alone with nothing but strangers as her mother walked away from her, and nothing more than that. She sits back after a few minutes of intensely staring at the floor.
I scoot over a tiny bit and her eyes go narrow and I wish I would’ve waited a little longer. “Out!” she shouts as she jumps up and points to the front door. She runs into the bedroom and I hear things being tossed around.
When I go in, I find her throwing my things into my bag. I walk up and nudge her away with my shoulder. “I’ll do it. I’ll leave. If that’s what you really want. I’ll leave, baby.”
I wish I could be mad at her, but all I feel is a deep sadness as she shoves away her feelings for me. I turn to her after I have all my things packed. She walks away and opens the front door.
She looks at me with so much hurt and anger in her eyes. “Blake, take a look at your own things before you go taking a look at mine. Figure out how you should move on from the death of your parents before you think about fixing me. I’m not broken, I’m merely a human who has gone through shit, much like yourself.”
She’s right, and I just realized how right she is. “I’m sorry, Rachelle. You’re right and I can be no good for anyone until I deal with my own issues.”
I walk towards my car and she makes a little sound that has me turning back to see her sad eyes. “Blake.” She hesitates as tears start to fall down her pink cheeks. “Have a nice life.” She closes the door, leaving me alone with what I’ve done.
What have I done?
Kip
“The kid’s barely walking and already I’m tripping over his shit!” I shout as I hold my toe I stubbed on Pax’s toy truck which apparently is made out of real steel.
Peyton frowns at me. “I think it’s time to stop using foul language, Daddy.”
Pax takes his toy from me and looks up at me with a smile. “Dada,” he says. “Chit.”
I raise my eyebrows as Peyton glares at me. “Gotta go meet Blake. See ya.” I run from the room and out to the garage door.
I climb into my tall, four-wheel-drive pickup truck. Blake called and wants to meet for drinks at a little bar nearby. Seems he and Rachelle have had a bit of a falling out and he needs some advice.
His little rental is parked in the parking lot as I pull up and he gets out once he sees me. He waves and I hop out of my truck and make my way to him. “Hey there, bloke. Sorry to hear ‘bout your bad times. She’s a tough one, I can tell ya that much.”
He looks at me like I’ve said something looney. “I asked you if she had something wrong with her when I first laid eyes on her and you said there wasn’t. You sang her praises if I remember correctly.”
“Did I?” I ask as I clap him on the back and we walk into the bar. “I’m nearly positive I told ya she has intimacy issues. Didn’t I?”
“No, you did not, Kip!” Blake says as he walks into the dark bar in front of me.
“I.D. please,” the doorman asks Blake.
“He’s of age and with me,” I say and the doorman waves us on.
Blake turns back, wallet in hand. “No cover charge?”
“Not for me, mate.” I steer him to a corner booth and he settles in one side while I take the other. “So tell me what all happened.”
“I have no idea where to start,” he moans and looks so sad.
“Ya know, it happens to us all, mate.” I tell him as the waitress comes to our table with a bottle of Hypnotic and two shot glasse
s.
“You didn’t even order,” Blake says as he looks across the table at me.
“They know what I like. Do you like this?” I ask with a gesture to the light blue liquor.
He shrugs. “I’ve never had it.”
I nod at the young waitress in the tight shirt and short skirt. “That’ll be all.”
I watch Blake and notice he doesn’t even look at the beautiful girl as she walks away. “Damn it man, you have it bad for our Rachelle. Your work is cut out for ya, I’m afraid.” The way his eyes sag at the corners lets me know he has genuine feelings for Rachelle. “Tell ya what I think will do the trick, mate.”
He’s all ears for my advice and I cross my fingers I’m not going to make this situation worse with it.
Peyton
Pax chews on Rachelle’s cell phone. Thank goodness it’s in a case that’s water proof. “So he had the unmitigated gall to hold on to you like you were his possession as you slept?” I ask her as she’s told me Blake holds her like he owns her all night long. “The bastard!”
I cover my mouth as Pax looks up at me and laughs then says, “Asturd.”
My cheeks go red. “Now I have to get Kip to say that word in front of Pax so he never can blame me for that new word that was just added to Pax’s small vocabulary. Crap!”
“Rap,” Pax parrots.
Rachelle picks up her drink and motions toward my son. “One day, even little Paxxie Poo is going to be a grown man and how will he treat women? Like he owns them, I bet.”
“You might want to slow down on the slow gin fizzes there, Shell. Just sayin’ it’s your second and you’re kinda looking a little woozy.” I pick up Pax and hold him on my lap.
She looks at her half full glass. “How much damn alcohol did you put in here, anyway, Peyt?”
“One lid full to a whole coke. You’re kind of a lightweight, Shelly. Sorry to break it to you.”
With a groan she puts the glass down. “Why does life have to be so difficult? Why does the thought of a man holding me as I sleep have to make me so mad? Why is it that the thought of him never holding me all night again makes me so upset? Why, Peyttie, why?”
“Cause you want him to do that for you, sweetie. We all want someone to care for us. But letting that into our head is hard as anything. I was thinking I didn’t need Kip to take care of our son. Now I can’t think about having to do this all on my own.” I get up and carry Pax with me to go sit by her and put my arm around her.
She buries her head in my chest. “I love him, don’t I?”
“I think it’s quite possible you do, sweetie. It’s not all bad, I promise you.” I pat her shoulder and she starts to cry.
My heart feels as if it’s breaking for her as she says, “What if I let myself fall in love with him and he leaves me alone like my mother did. If she could do it to a little, adorable three-year-old, he could do it to a mean, old, twenty-one-year-old.”
He could, I know he could and I know it would devastate her, but what is life if you never take a chance?
“Yeah, you’re right. Don’t risk it. Go it alone. Do what you’ve been doing. Leave love out of it. There was that last guy. What was his name again, Rick? Yeah. Rick. Maybe call him. You could never fall in love with that asshole.” I pat her back and she laughs a little.
“He was awful, Peyton. I only let you in on about half of what he did. I was afraid you’d go kick his ass.” She looks at Pax and he’s already trying to form the word with his mouth. I thrust her cell phone back into his little mouth. “Oops, I mean, bobo. I was afraid you’d go kick his bobo if you knew what all he did to me. It was degrading, and I allowed it. I allowed that to happen to me. Why? Why do you think I did that?”
Now she’s really letting me in and I can see she needs more help than she’s let on before. “I tell you what. I do think you need time away from men. Maybe someone to talk to who knows about these things isn’t such a bad idea after all. There’s not a one of us who’s perfect. Everyone needs help now and again.”
She looks up at me with tear stained cheeks. “But a shrink? I don’t want to be labeled a nut job, Peyt. Do you really think a shrink is what I need?”
“Let’s not call it that. Let’s call it a good friend who knows a lot about things, helping another friend out. I’ll find you someone.”
She shakes her head. “Peyton, I can’t afford that.”
“You know I’m not going to allow you to pay for this. It’s a friend helping a friend after all. Nothing more than that.”
The way she lays her entire weight, which isn’t much, on me tells me she needs me more than ever. She saved me once, I can help her now. She’s a good girl with a good head on her narrow shoulders.
Her words come out soft as if she’s exhausted. “Peyton, it’s just what Blake and I have is so intense. It’s as if I really do need him. My body and mind not only want him, I need him. And why does that make me so angry?”
“It just does for some freaky reason,” I say as I hold her to me and Pax runs his tiny hand over her long, black hair.
It would be nice if life was a little bit easier!
Blake
The rain is still pouring down as I take the young woman Kip set me up with to make Rachelle jealous into the restaurant she works at. Peyton let Kip know Rachelle went back to work even though she didn’t need to yet.
Kip found this groupie, and she is hot. Blonde, short, tight, red dress and sky high heels. Not my type at all, but hot none-the less. She checked her make-up on the short drive here not one time but six, count them, six times. Reapplying her red lipstick three of those times.
If I kiss her it is a fact my lips will slide off hers and look every bit as red as hers are right now. Her boobs and ass are fake as hell too. But hey, I need a little arm candy and she’ll do.
The restaurant Rachelle is doing her internship at is a five-star thing of beauty. Not according to my date, Cleo, though. She says her name is Cleopatra. I have my doubts, but why wouldn’t a woman who has changed nearly every God-given thing about herself change her name too?
We sit down and order a couple of drinks and I watch Cleo scan the room. She leans in and whispers as she holds her Champagne cocktail in her long, slender hand with long, red, fake fingernails, “Not too fancy for five-stars. This drink is watered down and I’m not at all impressed. Is that Miley Cyrus? What a dump!”
“A dump, huh? I don’t know, it looks pretty good to me. And I hear the food is excellent,” I say as I pick up the menu and look for something to eat.
Cleo sits back and sips her drink. “Order me something, stud. I hardly eat anyway. I have to maintain this figure after all.” Her skinny hand flows over her no curve body.
“Yeah, that’s a thing of miracles,” I say as I think about how it’s a miracle she’s alive.
Dark eyebrows arch up at me as she wags the half full glass at me. “Miracles? Now what you have going on is a miracle. But I’m sure you know that. What are the chances that after dinner you and I can play with each other for a little while? I bet I can make you scream!”
Oh! I know she would!!!
I smile and wag a finger at her. “Now, Cleo, behave yourself.”
“Never!” she says and takes the rest of the drink down in one gulp. She snaps her fingers. “Garcon, another please!”
The night creeps by as my fake date orders drink after drink and curls her nose up at the food placed in front of her. “This will never do! Who made this slop?”
I nearly fall on the floor and have to take in a deep breath. “Cleo, I don’t think that’s a real good idea.”
With a snap of her long fingers the waiter walks away. “I’ll get her, madam.”
Fuck me! He’s going to get her!
Cleo looks over at me and my plate of delicious chicken and snarls. “Don’t worry, lover. I’ll have the little imp who tortured your chicken fix that as well.”
“Mine’s fantastic, please don’t bring my food up to her.” I see Ra
chelle in all black, her hair pulled into a ponytail.
She walks up to Cleo without noticing me as Cleo stands up and turns to her. Cleo’s finger moves back and forth in Rachelle’s face before she can say a word, Cleo says, “So you think you know how to cook. Let me tell you that you do not! You have no business in that kitchen. The salad was bland, I took one bite and hated it. And how can you call that Salmon? That is Cod, bitch!”
Rachelle’s eyebrows go way up. “Mam, if you are indeed a mam, let me assure you that the fish on your plate is Salmon. It’s a pink color while Cod is white. But if you prefer, I will make you something else.”
Cleo’s long arm moves, and she points to me. “And my man’s chicken is raw.”
I most likely have a deer in the headlights expression on my face as Rachelle looks around Cleo and sees me. I smile and wave a little. Red covers her face and neck and what is showing of her arms. She looks back at Cleo. “Did you say your man?”
“I did,” Cleo says as her head bobs around. “So, how do you suppose you can fix this?”
“How could you?” Rachelle asks as she runs away.
How could I?
“What’s her problem?” Cleo asks. She sits down and I motion for the waiter to come over.
“Sir?” he asks.
I whisper in his ear. “Have a cab take this woman home and I’ll give you a thousand dollars. I swear.” I place a hundred-dollar bill in his palm and he looks at it then grins.
“Will do, sir.”
I give Cleo a smile. “Hey, I gotta go use the facilities.” I get up and she waves me away as she slurps down a lot more booze.
Rachelle barrels, if you can call what a tiny, five foot two woman doing barreling, out of the ladies’ room. Once her red-rimmed eyes catch mine, she turns on her heel and goes right back inside.
I stop outside the door. It’s been two weeks since she tossed me out of her apartment. Two weeks since I’ve seen her face. Two weeks since I’ve tasted her sweet kiss.
A woman walks out and I take her by the arm. “How many others are in there?” I ask in desperation.
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