by K A Sands
There they were.
He was standing at the door to the room looking over at me despondently. For the second time in the last few weeks, I felt utter shame in my actions. I couldn’t look at him anymore; he wasn’t meant to see this side of me ever. Bowing my head, my body slumped forward, and tears sprang, I couldn’t blink them away quick enough, they rolled down my face, dripping off my chin as I hurt all over again. I didn’t care who saw, I couldn’t keep them at bay.
Not like this, please...
Uncertainness enveloped me, threatening to suffocate me where I sat, to snuff out my already squeezed heart. Self-loathing reared its ugly head and took up residence inside when I finally grasped we were worlds apart.
This could never be his life; I didn’t want this for him. How could he want me by his side after all that had passed between us? All the hurts I’d brought his way? If I’d thought my heart was done before, I was so wrong, I swear I felt it shred a thousand times more as I peered down at the bloody mess of the man barely breathing beneath me.
I needed to get the fuck out of there.
Jumping up; the need to self-destruct in my own private hell without spectators, clawed at me. Pushing past everyone, I made my way toward the door where he stood, staggering, and wiping my bloody hands on the bottom of my t shirt as I went. I didn’t dare look up, kept heading forward. Reaching for the handle of the door, his hand gripped my wrist hard, preventing me from fleeing. I tried to shrug out of his grasp, but he held steady and I was too exhausted to fight anymore.
“Shaun,” he whispered, “look at me.”
I warred with myself, so very much wanting to see him, fearing it would be the last time, but nowhere near ready to confront the contempt I presumed was written on his face. Ignoring him, I stood rooted to the spot, not knowing what to do next.
“What do you want?” I gritted out, injecting some unconvincing venom into my words.
There was no anger toward Ayden; yet he had every right to despise me. If I’d been on the receiving end of what he had been, I would have acted the same way. Truth was, it hurt too much to stand there with him like this. Covered in blood and tumbling toward one of the lowest points of my life. I wasn’t standing there snivelling like a little bitch and hanging on his every breath, showing my weakness to the whole goddamned room.
“What the fuck do you want, Ayden?” I asked again, steeling my back, standing up taller, I pushed my walls up higher and met him eye for eye with a determination I didn’t rightly feel.
His fingers loosened from around my wrist and he let go, taking a step back. Then he smiled at me, fucking smiled at me like all was right in the world and I hadn’t just beaten a guy half to death. Like he didn’t care what he just saw me do.
Like he loved me.
Like he really loved me.
It was too much. I snatched at the handle pulling sharply at the door, getting the fuck out of there. I didn’t care anymore; had no energy in me to worry about him right then. It was time to leave.
Scrubbing my hands down my face I walked out into the sunshine not giving a shit who was looking at the man covered in blood. I headed for Monty’s, not planning on thinking coherently in an hours’ time.
My day was done.
The dark eddies swirling underneath were beckoning, pulling me under and for once, I found comfort in the shadowy depths.
Ayden
The door echoed shut as Shaun disappeared. I let him go; the world of hurt and confusion all over his face told me what I needed to know. He didn’t want to be around me right now, and I couldn’t blame him. We could work things through when he was ready, now was not the time.
The silence was oppressive in the room. Someone was trying to sit Shorty up in a chair. The guy needed a hospital but what he needed and what he was going to get were two very different things.
This day was not Shorty’s day. Oh, fuck no....
With his face a mess from the beating Shaun had given him, I waited for the disgust and fear to swallow me whole, but it kept its head at bay. All I felt was wrung out and tired, still recovering from the assault and the fallout from Shaun.
It was time to make things right again.
I knew my father had left Beaufort earlier, I’d heard the cars peel out of the driveway while I’d been lying on my bed, floundering in the remnants of grief and self-pity. When my phone rang a few hours later, I let it be, but it rang again and again until I eventually got so sick of it I picked it up. The soft sobbing on the other end had me wide awake in five seconds flat. I didn’t know who it was at first, the sobbing continuing for a good minute or more before the caller had calmed enough to utter the word ‘sorry’ in my ear. It gave me a clue to who it was. I let her speak, didn’t say a word while she re-counted the night with Shaun, then told me where he was. I hung up feeling as bad as she did.
Fuck. Way to mess up.
Chrissie was just another victim of her father’s greed and games, of Shorty’s sadistic little mind.
I crossed the room to my dad. “Ayden?” he asked, confused at my appearance.
“Ah, Mr. Rinaldi’s heir. Hello, Ayden.” The old man I presumed was Charlie, spoke up. “Perhaps when you take your father’s seat you’d feel more inclined to do business with me?” He shot daggers across the table before smiling devilishly.
My dad took a step closer, a protective move I was beyond. I was a man and didn’t need nor want to hide behind him anymore. I wanted to be at least half the man my father was, and he was strong and proud and determined.
Laughing shortly, I shook my head. “If your business is no good for my father then I can assure you, it’s no good for me either.”
I watched the shock register on his face, as if I’d dared to speak to him in such a way. He obviously thought I’d be a far easier man to manipulate. How fucking wrong he was. I had no idea what business he referred to, but I knew it would never be the kind of business I wanted anything to do with. My father smiled and clapped me on the back.
I wasn’t finished yet.
“Shaun is my business too, but not something you need to concern yourself with.” I glared at the man, stiffened my spine, drew my stance taller and continued. “There’s no deal to be had here, Shaun is not yours.” I wasn’t asking, I was telling.
The man climbed from his seat, his eye twitching, most likely at the audacity of my words. I couldn’t have given a fuck. “You are not the one to make that decision boy!” he almost shouted.
Looking around me, my father and my uncle were at my sides. Shorty was still being propped up on the chair by two big guys, their attention focused on him.
Perfect.
“There’s no deal to be made here, not now, not ever,” I re-iterated. It took all my nerves and courage but I fucking did it. I stepped around Ryder and pulled the gun I’d stolen from my father’s locked drawer from the back of my jeans lightening quick.
Pop!
That’s all it took. One single pop and Shorty was splayed on the floor. I couldn’t see where I’d shot him, didn’t need to, his still body told the tale. Nobody said a word, not one fucking word, their breaths held in stunned disbelief. I turned heel and walked towards the door, shoving the gun back into my pants.
“No fucking deal!” I shouted. “Shaun’s mine,” I barked without turning around.
Leaving the room, I tucked my trembling hands into my pockets, walking quickly from the building. My heart was racing, like a heart attack was threatening. Keeping the smile plastered on my face, I made my way back to the car, moving around to the back of the trunk with quick steps before bending over the grass almost hyperventilating. Bile rose in my throat, I was struggling to get a hold on myself.
I’d shot someone.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Oh yeah, the freak out was coming, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. Vomit came quickly, barrelled up my throat a hundred miles an hour, erupting at my feet as I spewed up. I didn’t stop for a good few minutes. Eyes streaming and
spittle hanging from my mouth, I desperately gasped for air.
Straightening up, I unlocked the car, then jumped in. Hunting about in the glove box for something to wipe my face with, I rubbed a tissue across my face and slumped in the seat chanting to myself. I had to get a grip, I couldn’t be seen like this. It defeated the purpose, made obsolete the statement I’d just made to a roomful of people. It had to stick in a big way.
I had to pull it together.
Find Shaun.
Shaun.
I thumped my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. Memories of Jake came quick and fast. His smile, his touch, the excitement on his face the first time he kissed a girl, him kissing me. Jake kissing me.
Jake.
Shaun
The minute Claire saw me stagger through the door of Monty’s, she was at my side and dragging me through the back. Sitting me down in the small staff room she threw a pack of wet wipes at me before disappearing back out the door. I scrubbed at my stained hands, the blood half dried and ingrained, not wanting to come off.
Yeah, blood stained hands. Described me to a fucking T. I sat there and hung my head in shame and defeat.
For the third time in my life I felt utterly lost. I had no clue what I was doing, where my life was going. In that moment I didn’t care, and it wasn’t as scary as it should have been. I contemplated getting drunk, for all of a minute before deciding it was really the coward’s way out and would solve no problems. Fuck knows where I’d end up, I couldn’t just bury my head in the sand this time.
I had no plan. I was fucked, royally. And not in a way I liked.
Claire returned with a clean t-shirt. Handing it to me she shyly, she whispered; “It’s Boomer’s.” I took in sharp breaths as I fingered the material she’d placed in my lap, more hurt piling on top of what was already there.
I missed him more than ever. I had no doubt that life would be a dammed sight less complicated if he was still around. He’d be telling me to get a fucking grip and sort my shit out. I was by no means a quitter but right now, yeah, I wanted to quit more than anything. I’d lost everything, and I didn’t know how to right it, how to get it back.
“Shaun?” I heard Claire ask. I didn’t look up at her, feeling embarrassed for sitting there full of self-pity. “Clean up and come out, I’ll pour you a drink, okay?” She said softly, then she left me to my own devices.
I tugged my ripped t-shirt off and threw it into the trash can, then headed to the men’s room to scrub my hands and try to look a little more presentable before heading out to the bar.
A bloke I vaguely recognised as a regular was sitting talking to Claire when I emerged from the back hallway. He nodded to the stool next to him and I took it without argument. Claire pushed a pint of Craft in my direction, patting my shoulder and nodding her head at me. She continued with her work, cleaning the bar top then swishing out glasses. I was thankful she knew me so well, to leave me alone but still have an eye on me. I smiled; at least one thing was half-way right in my life.
My heart lurched when someone brushed my arm and leaned over the bar. I didn’t turn towards him directly, didn’t need to, but clocked him in my peripheral. His hands were splayed on the counter, steady as a rock, and he stared straight ahead.
“You okay?” he asked gruffly.
I did turn then, I simply had to. I was mute, couldn’t speak, just looked, and marvelled at all he was. He was so self-assured but with a hardness set on his face I’d never witnessed before. It made me nervous to say the least, I wasn’t sure why.
“You don’t look cute gawping, Shaun.”
I hadn’t realised I was, and I instantly shut my mouth and shook my head for some clarity. How he even knew to find me here was a miracle. Yet he had.
Jesus.... I loved this man.
I fucking needed this man.
The fact that he was standing right next to me was something, right? I lacked the confidence I normally carried around, he disarmed me in a way that no other had. I was second guessing myself and immediately went on the defence. “What d’ya want, Ayden?” I cringed at the tone of my voice, felt embarrassed all over again, I just couldn’t bloody help myself. “Round two, huh?” I turned away from him, not even able to blame my attitude on being drunk. I downed my pint ready to move the fuck on and get away from the heartache standing off to my side.
He laughed. The cocksucker laughed, and it pissed me off, not finding it amusing for one little second. Pushing back and standing up, I made to leave and get the fuck out of there, having had enough for one day. His barbs would be the final straw, I couldn’t take it.
“Shaun, stop.” He spoke forcefully as he pushed me back into the counter and pinned me there with his body, arms around either side of me.
So close. Too close, up close and personal. Barely breathing, he got in my face, his perfect one staring right into mine. I softened into his body before I realised what I was doing, my anger dissipating as quick as it came. Ayden’s presence disarming me completely.
He felt so good, so damned good, I wanted to collapse into his arms and beg forgiveness. Fuck my pride. I didn’t know how I’d got myself into the positions I did that caused major fuck ups to those around me but thinking about them made me sick to my stomach. Sick I’d hurt him in those ways. I wasn’t a cheater and it wasn’t something I would have ever thought I’d do to Ayden.
But you did, you fuckhead!
Yes, I had. And I would beg. Get down on my bloody knees and plead until he took me back. Then I’d spend the rest of my life making it up to him if he’d only let me.
Ayden grabbed at my chin bringing my focus back to him. We stood that way for what felt like forever. Chest to chest. Man, to man.
Lover to lover.
Him staring at me, me looking back at him, getting lost in those eyes of his that had captivated me from the very first moment I had seen him up close. Ayden swiped his thumb across my bottom lip making me close my eyes for a moment. So good, so right. So intimate that I forgot about it all – where we were, how we’d got there, what had happened. I savoured his small attention, never wanting the moment to end.
“I’m sorry,” he said. My eyes snapped open and I looked at him incredulously. “I’m sorry,” he repeated. I shook my head, not accepting the apology. What did he have to be sorry for? This was all on me whether I remembered or not. “Listen to me....” he continued, “I’m sorry. I should have seen the bigger picture and waited. Waited for you.” He let go of me and hung his head. My entire body screamed in protest, I wanted his touch back, his body close again, right that fucking minute. My hand shot out to grab at his, entwining our fingers together, I squeezed hard.
“Don’t you let go.” I gritted out.
He moved back in and touched his lips to mine, soft, gentle, loving. Looking at me, he solemnly stated, “I fucking love you. We don’t let go right?”
He was looking for assurances and I was all right with giving them then. There was no hesitation if it was what he needed. I kissed him back as reverently as he had me.
“We don’t let go...”
Ayden
Stifling was the only way to describe the inside of the town car. Yet no one dared to complain. And if I felt like a sardine in a tin can, squashed in the back with everyone else, I wasn’t going to complain either. It was better than the box my best friend currently lay in.
Shaun’s hand was too sweaty in mine, so I shook it loose, letting go. He shot me an annoyed look, then transfixed on something out the window of the car, his quiet huff barely audible.
The sun blistered high and the thought of leaving the relative shade of the car made me sweat even more. It didn’t help that the charcoal grey suit I was wearing felt stuck to my skin.
Jake would’ve hated this. He wouldn’t have wanted stuffy suits and tears. I nudged and shifted between Ryder and Shaun, fighting with the arms of my jacket, dragging the damp garment from my body and dropping it to the floor at my feet. Ryder looked n
o more comfortable than I did, but he was doing better than me. I couldn’t wear the fucking thing a second longer.
“Is his mum coming?” Sophie’s soft-spoken voice interrupted the quiet.
Quite honestly, I didn’t know. I couldn’t stand the woman, never had been able to. I’d left my dad to deal with her, him being far more diplomatic than I could’ve ever been. On learning of the circumstances of her son’s death, she’d wailed and cursed both myself and Sophie for everything until my dad had said he would take care of all the arrangements. Whatever she needed or wanted for Jake, she would have. I was pretty sure the bitch had wrangled a tidy sum of money for herself too. She had no fucking shame.
Her appearance at the house had me darting off to my room and a very displeased Laura hurrying her out after an hour of watching her shamelessly flirt with my dad. It was embarrassing and only served to remind me why Jake had been such a huge part of my life for years. Why he had been family.
The day had started off pitiful to tell the truth. I’d woken up agitated and at odds with myself, something Shaun picked up on when he tried to cuddle in and I’d swatted him away. I’d barely said two words since and he’d wisely steered clear. Dressing in the stuffy suits had been a sedate affair, climbing into black town cars awkward. The morning’s service - mind numbing and soul destroying. Only serving to remind me I’d never see my best friend again, that he was gone. Ripped from our lives for no sense or reason. An act of revenge for a deserved beat down.
Laura and Taylor had been at Sophie’s side the entire time and the slither of guilt I felt didn’t seem strong enough to cause me any anxiety over not being a shoulder for her to lean on. I was drowning in my own grief, trying to keep my head above water so I could just get through the day. I feared if anybody said the wrong thing to me, I’d pounce on them and make it all worse. I wanted to spare Sophie the ugly of who I was.