The Vine

by C. A Ellis

  “Lucas Castle, I will not have you talk about Jett like that. He is lovely and kind, and let me assure you, he has never had any intentions of that kind towards Lizzy,” I scold.

  Lucas just laughs. “If you say so.”

  “I do, now please, can we go? Pretty pleeease?” I beg. I can see by his face that he’s thinking about it. “Look, we can’t do anything to find Lizzy tonight anyway; we won’t drink too much, and we won’t stay too late. Then tomorrow, we’ll get up early and get straight back to our list of hotels.” I look at him, my eyes pleading. I can see his walls crumbling, so I say the first thing that comes to mind I just know will help concrete his decision. “If I get to speak to Jett, I can obviously ask him all about his call with Lizzy, if she called him from her mobile and exactly what was said.” I raise my eyebrows knowingly.

  “Okay, okay,” Lucas gives in, “we’ll go to the gig at the club.” My smile must light up my face, as I then hear him ask, “Happy now?”

  “Yes, I am,” I reply smugly, “but not just because you’ve given in to us going to the club.”

  He looks at me suspiciously. “Why else are you smiling then?” he asks, his curiosity obviously getting the best of him.

  “I’m smiling because I just heard Lucas I-think-my-shit-doesn’t-stink Castle say the word gig.” As I see the frown fall over his face, I laugh harder. “Soon you’ll be in the mosh pit and crowd surfing!” I’m cracking up with just the thought. Lucas escorts me to the door and practically throws me out as he tells me to go and get ready. He’s trying to be serious, but I can see the corners of his mouth slowly turning up.

  Even so, I do as I’m told for a change, and skip off to my room to get ready. I am so excited, especially since I may get to speak to Jett. I have missed him so much. I start looking through my clothes for something suitable for a rock gig, something slutty that still oozes class.

  Wow, this is going to be a tough one.

  Chapter Twenty-six – Lucas

  As Katy and I walk along to the club, I still cannot believe I’m going. I am only doing this for her; I saw how upset she was today. It is so unlike Katy; she is such a tough cookie, so I really think this night out will do her good, especially if she gets to talk to her rocker friend. He is also a link for her to Lizzy, so I think she needs this, and of course it was a no brainer for me once she mentioned quizzing Jett about Lizzy.

  As we approach the club, I notice the long line and sigh deeply. Katy, upon hearing me, rolls her eyes and tells me not to worry before marching off straight to the front of the queue, and to the entrance of the club. I’m just left standing nearby, my hands in my trouser pockets, kicking my feet on the ground like a kid that’s up to no good. I can see people looking at us, giving us dirty looks and talking shit about us—this is certainly not my idea of fun.

  I look away from the ferocious crowd thinking how crazy fans can be, and back over to Katy, who is twisting her hair provocatively while she talks to three burly bouncers. She calls me over, and I head her way thinking, Great, these big, hefty bastards are now going to kick the crap out of me, but as I reach Katy, she just grabs my hand and pulls me into the club.

  “I cannot believe you just got us into this club,” I say, still in shock I haven’t had ten kinds of shit knocked out of me. She just grins. “What did you say to them?” I ask.

  “Never you mind, Castle. My trash talk isn’t good for your pretty little ears.” And with that, she struts off to the bar. I follow, shaking my head at the crazy girl.

  We order our drinks—a bottle of beer for me, and a glass of wine for Katy—and we stand at the bar, as it’s slightly quieter. The club then announces and welcomes Jetson onto the stage, and the crowd goes wild. In fact, there is a complete frenzy and everyone screams. The lead singer, Jett, is trying to talk to the crowd, but I am sure no one can hear him because I certainly can’t. The bar is just off from the madness, and I think this is the safest place for me. Katy, on the other hand, has other ideas. “I’m going down to the front!” she screams at me, just so she can be heard.

  “You’re going in there?” I ask incredulously, pointing to the crazy crowd.

  “Yep, you coming?” she shouts, placing her glass on the bar.

  “Not likely,” I shout back.

  Katy laughs, and strides off confidently towards the mass of screaming and ballistic fans.

  I stand and have a few more beers over the next hour or so, and there is still no sign of Katy returning. I tap my foot along to the music. Okay, I admit it—these guys are good. In fact, they are very good. So I nod along and watch the world go by. The bar area is now starting to get busy, as the band has gone backstage for a break.

  Suddenly, a girl catches my eye. I move away from the busy bar and head further into the club, my eyes still on the girl, keeping her in my vision. It’s funny, because I am aware women look at me and flirt with me a lot, but I just don’t notice them anymore. It’s not since I lost Lizzy either. I stopped noticing other women the day I met her, and I don’t just mean when we started dating; I mean the actual day I accidentally bumped into her at my offices. I see no one but Lizzy, and yet here I am, staring at a tall, slim girl that for some reason, I can’t take my eyes off.

  I deliberately look away; I’m so annoyed with myself. Why am I staring at another woman when I am so in love with Lizzy? I lift my beer bottle back up to my lips and take a swig. I look back to where the girl is standing, but she’s gone. Thank God. I start to walk around a bit, and I realise my eyes are darting about frantically searching for the girl I now can’t see.

  I spot her again from behind; she stands out a mile from anyone else in this place, so I stop where I am and lean against a high-topped table as I continue to watch her. She is with a lot of guys, although I can tell a couple of them are obviously gay. Why am I bothered whether they are gay or not? She’s nothing to do with me. I normally like long hair on women—it’s much more feminine, hair you can really lose your hands in—but this girl has got the most amazing, short, pixie cut. I can see the back, where it tapers into her long, delicate neck.

  I find myself looking at her dress. It’s simple, with spaghetti straps over her lean, tanned shoulders. Her arms are toned and athletic. The dress, although simple, is a silk or satin material that keeps clinging to her pert bottom below her tiny waist. Her dress finishes just above her knee—a sensible length for a dress worn at a club catering to rock bands, I think.

  I look back up her body as I see her throw her head back and laugh, and I find myself smiling at her happy laughter. I keep trying to see her face, to see if it matches the rest of her, but she’s virtually in the shadows. My eyes travel back down her slender body, over her lithe calves, all the way down to her strappy heels and then she turns slightly.

  And that’s when I notice it.

  It makes me go rigid and I’m struggling to breathe. Sweat starts to bead my forehead, and I can feel the colour drain from my face. I close my eyes and shake my head, because I seriously have got to be imagining what I think I am seeing. I’ve obviously had far too much to drink.

  I open my eyes and look straight back at those perfect feet, which are now facing me. I see painted, sparkly toes, a toe ring and the most gorgeous vine tattoo trailing across the delicate foot and around her slender ankle. I know those feet, those toes and that tattoo so well, because I have kissed and licked them intimately so many times. I know she is facing in my direction, so my eyes travel up to her face, knowing what I am going to find, but needing the final confirmation.

  I sigh in complete satisfaction as I see her petit, elfin features, and I practically melt on the spot when my sight rests on her rosebud lips I have kissed a thousand times. I have found her. I have finally found my Angel. I feel someone touch my arm and I flinch. I look down at the hand on me, and I follow the arm up to Katy’s face. The concern written all over her face proves to me I must look as shocked as I feel.

  I look into Katy’s eyes, but I nod my head over to whe
re Lizzy is standing in the shadows. Katy’s brows are furrowed as she follows the direction of my nod. I watch her eyes as she searches the vicinity for whatever has affected me so dramatically, although deep in her heart, she must know. After all, there’s only one person in this world who could affect me so fiercely.

  I keep my eyes firmly on Katy’s, and then I see her gaze land on something, or should I say someone. Her eyes widen in shock, and then I know she understands. Katy recovers herself quickly, and pushes me back in to the anonymity of the crowds. I stagger back with Katy’s gentle pushes.

  I don’t want to leave Lizzy, I think to myself. What is Katy doing? And then I snap out of my trance.

  “What are you doing, Katy?” I say, anger starting to burst through me.

  “She can’t see you, Lucas,” Katy soothes, her eyes looking pitifully at me.

  “I don’t want to leave her, Katy. What if I can’t find her again?” I say, my anger turning into sheer panic.

  “Look, Lucas, the reality is—you can’t let her see you now. This is not the time.” Katy’s serious now.

  “But—” I try to interject.

  “No, Lucas!” Katy raises her voice. “It is not an option. Non-negotiable. It just cannot happen.” I look at her, defeated. “Lucas, please understand; this is what is best for you and Lizzy.”

  “It doesn’t feel what’s best to me,” I reply weakly.

  “It is; can’t you see? Stop thinking with your heart for one moment, and think with your head. Lizzy thinks you’re dead, and she’s probably trying to get on with some sort of life without you, and as hard as that will be for her, she’s obviously trying. You’re imagining some sort of magical romantic reunion, where you walk over to her and upon her seeing you, she runs into your arms—” Katy stops abruptly at my stunned look. I lightly smile then, because it’s like Katy is reading my mind. “Lucas, if you walk over there and she sees you, you will fuck her head up so completely, I don’t think she’d ever recover. And that, I’m afraid, is the brutal truth.”

  Well that certainly wiped the smile off of my face. “But Katy, I’m so frightened of losing her again,” I say frantically, looking past her so I don’t lose sight of Lizzy in this busy club.

  “Look, I will follow her and find out where she is staying. Then, when the time is right, I will talk to her. As soon as I have broken the news to her, and she has gotten her head around it, you can come and get her for your happily ever after.”

  I nod; I know she is right, but all my instincts are telling me otherwise. I’m still looking over to where Lizzy’s standing, but now from my viewpoint, I can only catch glimpses of my perfect Angel. She is giggling at something someone is saying. I sigh wistfully, because if I could hear that sound, I know just how beautiful it would be.

  I look to see the cause of the humour, and I see some good-looking, dark-haired Italian guy pawing her. Well, pawing is probably a bit extreme. His hand is on her lower back, and it is so loud in here that when he talks to her, he has to lean right up to her ear. I instantly dislike him. I can tell by the way he looks at her each time he pulls back he is attracted to her—mind you, what red-blooded male wouldn’t be. If it’s possible, Lizzy looks even more stunningly beautiful than I remember.

  I hate him. I look at her like that—only me—because I love her. Oh, God, maybe he loves her. I despise him. I’m becoming angry; my fists are balled so hard that I can feel my nails cutting into my palms. I start talking angrily through my teeth without moving my lips, emphasising the first word of every question. “Why is she trying to make a life without me? How is she so over me? She looks so happy,” I state to Katy aggressively, but then I soften as I continue, “I wouldn’t get over her so easily. I would never get over her. I would be miserable, and I certainly wouldn’t want to build any sort of life or future without her.”

  “Lucas, Lizzy doesn’t have a choice about this; it’s just survival for her. As she wrote in her letters, she wanted to take her own life. If she had given in to those thoughts and succeeded, you would have never had the chance to try and find her. Do not for one minute be fooled by her laughter either. I know Lizzy better than anyone, and that laughter doesn’t reach her eyes. Not even close.” Katy puts her hand on mine in understanding; it soothes me, and I can feel myself calming down at her words, although I am still not happy with all the male-attention Lizzy is receiving from the men in her group.

  I feel my mobile phone buzz in my pocket. I finally drag my eyes away from Lizzy as I pull my phone out. It’s a text from an unknown number. I swipe across it and put my phone code in. All the text says is, Have you checked your emails lately? You really should.

  To be honest, I haven’t checked my emails for days. For one, my mind has been otherwise occupied, and for two, all my emails are generally work-related, and I have had my work email redirected to Cole, as he’s handling things while I sort my shit out. I click out of the text screen and tap the email icon. My work email is empty, as I expected. There are a few unread messages in my personal email account, which I don’t tend to give out to many people. I tap into it, and there are four unread messages. There is one from Mum and Dad, one from my friend Michael, one from Cole and then there is one from an email address I don’t recognise.

  I don’t like the subject matter already, especially after what I’ve just witnessed, and after what Katy and I have been talking about—YOU’RE WASTING YOUR TIME. IT LOOKS LIKE SHE’S MOVED ON. MAYBE YOU SHOULD TOO.

  I look around me. This is weird. I know I shouldn’t, as it’s probably a virus or something, but I just can’t help myself. I click on the attached images, and when I do, I wish straight away I hadn’t, because what I see is worse—much worse—than any virus.

  There are pictures of Lizzy with various men, at various points throughout her day. She is laughing, she is being hugged and—regardless of what Katy says about how well she knows her—from what I can see here, Lizzy looks happy. Very happy. I flick through slowly, taking in each and every picture, and reading into each and every one of them. With each swipe of my finger, my heart sinks farther and farther into my stomach.

  I swipe across one more time, and my legs go weak, I feel the colour drain from my face and I feel bile rise up in my throat. There is no mistaking it is the smug bastard who was just all over her, and they are kissing. The dizziness I felt a minute ago is being taken over by sheer rage. I can feel the anger rising up from my feet, up my legs, through my body and into my fists, making them clench instinctively.

  I can feel it rising up my neck now, my veins bulging with the strain of holding myself back from this fury taking me over completely, and I have to stop myself from running over and smashing that fucker into a bloody pulp. I need to get out now; I march off, hearing people’s expletives as I shove my way through the crowd, violently pushing people out of the way as I head for the exit.

  I break through the doors, out into the street and then gasp and take in the air I so desperately need. I am gulping in air so frantically that from a stranger’s perspective, they would think I’m having a panic attack. I roll along the wall of the club and around the corner into an alleyway, and then I am viciously sick.

  When I know my stomach is empty, I lean against the wall, bent over with my hands on my knees. I have to get out of here. I try to pull myself together but I can’t; I’m beyond defeated. I’m fucking crushed. I stand up and walk out of the alleyway. I put my hands in my pockets, take one more look back at the club and then brokenly, I bend my head and I just keep walking.

  Chapter Twenty-seven – Lizzy

  I wake up feeling a bit jaded. Okay, that’s an understatement; I feel terrible. I hit the off button on the alarm. For the first time, I actually wish I didn’t have to work today. I love Isabella, and I love the café, and if the person with the pneumatic drill would just step out of my head for a minute, I would happily skip off to work to open up. I groan as the words hit me; I’ve got to open up the café, which means an even earlier start tha
n normal.

  I swing my legs to the edge of the bed and go to sit up. It’s a lot harder than normal, especially when it seems my head has been replaced with an anvil. I grab the warm glass of water from beside my bed, and take the aspirin I had sensibly left there hours ago. I shuffle off to the bathroom to have a shower before slowly getting ready for my day. As I step out of the lift, Giovanni at reception calls me over. I walk over to him plastering a fake smile on my face, thinking, Of all the mornings Giovanni wants a natter, why today?

  “Sorry to bother you, Miss Castel,” Giovanni apologises in his thick Italian accent, “but I was left a note asking not to disturb you, and just to ask when you came down if you could pop into the conference room for a few minutes.”

  This is new. “Who left the note?” I ask.

  He shrugs apologetically. “I’m sorry; I don’t know.”

  “Could it be Mr. Goretti?” I ask, fishing for details.

  He shrugs again. “Could be.”

  On any other day I may have fished for more clues to the mystery letter-leaver, but my head’s pounding and I’m starting to feel sick. Plus, poor Giovanni looks so worried about bothering me, so I need to put him at ease and just get this over with as quickly as possible. I try to give him a smile as I turn away, but I’m sure he only ends up with a grimace. As I head for the conference room, I think to myself, this definitely seems like the work of my clearly-obsessed friend Luca.

  I smile as I wonder what he’s up to now. We had gotten along really well last night; I think we were both relaxed with the alcohol coursing through our veins. Our recent conversation was swept aside and we got on like good friends, just as I hoped we would. He couldn’t help throwing in the odd innuendo, but that’s just in his nature, so it could easily be forgiven. I’m still smiling as I walk through the conference room door, and as it closes behind me, I look around the darkened room. I can see no one, but I see the projector is on, and images are flashing slowly on the screen. I move in closer to see the images, wondering what the hell is going on.