Callum smiles at her rage and leans back in his chair as he pops a piece of bacon in his mouth.
“Now who is punishing whom?” she does ask.
“I’m not punishing you. I’m just choosing a different path. I want to be closer to Anna and her family. I want to be an uncle to my nieces.”
“From Asheville?” She is finding her way back to asking questions.
“Sure.” Now he is being cavalier. “It is a hop, skip and a jump as compared to traveling the Atlantic.”
“And Victoria? And this sweet child?” She lays her hand on Marina’s head but falls short of a loving touch. She doesn’t do the loving touch well. “Do you mean to play with their lives as you did with Elizabeth and Jeremy’s?”
Callum rises to his feet. “This conversation is over.” He clears plates from the table and tosses them carelessly to the counter by the sink. It is almost funny how intent he is to do it with one leg, but it is more tragic. Victoria takes a plates from his hand.
“I’ll get it.” She wraps her fingers around his wrist, stroking his anger warmed skin with her thumb. She takes the dishes from him. She looks to his eyes, desperate not to be another conflict on his mind. She can’t believe he and her father have been plotting. She is completely touched by his promise to George. At the same time she realizes George is not expecting to make it very long.
“Go on, take your mother to the airport. We can talk later?” she whispers, wishing they were alone.
She can see his struggle to focus on her face and release his anger. She lays a hand on his shoulder and remembers their time together last night. She remembers holding him and having him inside of her. Her knees feel weak and if they were alone, she would kiss him. He’s watching her face and she knows he feels it too.
“I would like very much to talk later,” he says quietly and she thinks he is using talk as a euphemism for very different words.
After the run to the airport, George takes Marina to a movie. Having no friends over winter break can be lonely for a teenage girl. George tries to fill the void as best he can. Victoria finds Callum sitting in her bedroom, on the white chair, waiting.
“After last night, I thought about taking a flight to Austin. I wasn’t sure if it was time for me to go.” he says. “I think you want to fuck the nanny Victoria,” he says.
“Manny,” she corrects absentmindedly, thinking she’d very much like to fuck the manny.
He doesn’t laugh this time. “Am I a punch line to you? I thought I was supposed to be the shallow one. I’m starting to feel like a joke here.”
“I thought you would be comfortable keeping things casual. You don’t really seem a serious kind of guy, Callum?”
“I don’t feel casually about you. Do you feel casually about me? Be fucking honest with me, Victoria. Just for a moment here.”
She doesn’t have a response for him. She can’t protect his feelings without risking her own. It isn’t a tough choice, especially now that she is back here and remembering things she doesn’t want to remember.
“Are you feeling something for me and you don’t want to? I know you have a lot of demons to confront here, but I’m not sure I want to be one of them.”
She sits on the bed and lays back with her feet on the floor. She doesn’t know what kind of arrangement he made with George. She can’t even consider that. She has to protect herself and Marina, but honestly, she really doesn’t want him to go.
“Yes, I am feeling something for you.”
That is all he needs. He locks the door and stands over her at the bed. He frees her from her pants and pulls himself from his own. He is frantic to get closer to her. She reaches for a condom and when he is ready, she wraps her legs around him. He uses his arms to prop himself high off her and buries himself inside of her. This is not the gentle sharing of passions as the night before. This is faster, rougher and a little angry. She comes quickly and by the time he comes, she joins him a second time. It is frantic and intense. After, he falls to her side, both of them facing the ceiling with their feet on the floor.
“Huh,” she says simply.
“Huh?” he asks.
“You are something Callum,” she sighs. “I can’t image what you are like without that.” She half-heartedly points her chin to his brace.
“I’m a fucking dynamo,” he jokes. “Victoria, I want to let myself feel for you. Will you just bloody let me?” He asks because if she says no, he can stop it. He can mindlessly fuck her and be polite and turn it all off. He can be here until George dies and see them through his death and burial. He promised and he’ll keep his word.
“Callum, I think you want to feel something for me because you feel good here. You feel good about you. Not necessarily you feel good about me. You like how we are getting along. You like spending time with Marina. You feel better here than you did in England after Elizabeth. But Callum we can’t be a hideout for you. You’ll get bored so fast. I don’t want to be your plaything until you want to go back to your life,” she says. “No matter what you and George agreed on.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No, damn it. I have been living my entire life proving I’m not a moron. Dyslexia tends to equate stupidity to most people, my mother included. I played into it. I made bad decisions because they were expected of me and I didn’t have the respect for myself to be better.”
She scoots closer to him and pulls his arm under her head, holding his hand in hers, imagining a little boy Callum being beaten with a strap. It so fits into what she knows about him.
“You do what you need to do, Victoria. But what I need to do is right here.” He says giving her a squeeze.
“Did you just say you need to do me?” she asks.
“It’s the dyslexia. I get confused by words sometimes,” he lies before turning to face her and kiss her again.
“Are you staying?” she asks pulling her lips from his.
“I am.” This time he undresses her properly.
On New Year’s Eve, they go into town to see Andrew Bird.
“I don’t want you two driving around on New Year’s Eve. I got you adjoining rooms at a hotel right on the same block as The Orange Peel. My treat.”
Victoria protests. She doesn’t want to leave her Dad alone with Marina. “What if there is a problem?” she worries.
“Rosalie is staying over in the guest room. She’ll keep an eye on us both. Marina is cooking dinner and we got all the Twilight movies, lord help me. We’ll have a great time. Go have fun,”
George has his doubts that they’ll use both rooms, but the cost of an additional room was well worth avoiding a sex talk with his daughter. Grown woman or not, she’s still his little girl.
When they pull up to the hotel, Callum realizes it is the same one where he spent his first evening in Asheville. Not the night, just the evening. It was the first night on his cross-country “blow me and I’ll give you the fuck of your life” tear. Walking into the hotel turns his stomach. He glances nervously into the bar to make sure she isn’t sitting on a stool looking for her next lay.
They only check into one room. Victoria declines the second. They have never spent a night together for fear of Marina finding them in the morning. The room is modern with a European flair.
Callum sits on the bed. “I’ve something to show you.” He hands her an envelope.
Victoria reviews Callum’s lab work. Callum was tested for STDs and HIV before the surgery in Utah and he was clean, but he needed another round of tests to ensure his good health.
“Did I ever tell you that I’m on the pill?”
He shakes his head and smiles wide.
“No more condoms!” she cheers and thanks him for his diligence in this matter by lowering to her knees in front of him.
“No, no. I want you up here with me.” He pulls her to his lap. He faces a chair identical to the one where he sat with another woman between his knees not too long ago.
“Are you sure?” she asks with surprise.
This is unusual.
He undresses her fast and takes off his leg brace, tossing it across the room. “This thing is horseshit,” he says and pulls her into his arms. They rush into it, knowing they are truly alone, no one in the next room or downstairs or coming home soon. Just the two of them for twenty four hours.
He presses up on his arms to give her the space she needs between them, careful to keep his weight from her and for the first times feels himself inside of her without the protective barrier that has kept them apart.
“Come closer to me Callum.” She pulls his shoulders toward her. When his skin grazes hers, he freezes, knowing this is something she has not done before. He moves inside of her slowly and she pulls him even closer. They meet chest to chest and she wraps herself around him. She moves without hesitation, syncing to his rhythm.
“Is this okay?” he asks to be sure. He would never want to cause her fear or regret or any discomfort. He holds her face and moves with her slowly at first to be sure.
“I trust you Callum,” she says. “It is perfect.”
For a split second he realizes the enormous responsibility of having her trust. He must never hurt her, but he hurts everyone. He leans his lips to hers and breathes in from her. He breathes in her goodness, hoping it can take seed within him. She pulls him closer still with her calves pulling his hips. The connection is overwhelming, out of body, religious. It is magic, yet real. He is weightless. He feels himself falling. He desperately doesn’t want to fail her.
They choose a little restaurant with a big bourbon menu for dinner before the show. Callum introduces Victoria to John’s brand of Kentucky bourbon. They celebrate John with steaks and more than a little bourbon before walking down the block into The Orange Peel. This quintessential Asheville music venue is a big room with a big stage. Because of Callum’s leg, they are invited to seats at a table against the side wall.
“Asheville is a great city,” Callum says as they study the crowd before show time. “It reminds me of Camden in London.”
“Do you miss London?” Victoria asks.
After a moment’s thought he answers, “I don’t.”
“Not at all? Not even the bright lights, big city? The restaurant? Your home?”
“I really don’t,” he maintains.
She frowns. “I’m not sure I believe you.”
“You told me you trusted me three hours ago and now you are accusing me of lying?” he laughs. “I liked the trusting much better.” He takes her hand to his mouth and glides her index finger along the inside of his lower lip to remind her. The gesture makes Victoria forget her thoughts.
“Keep that up and I’ll believe anything you tell me,” she says and the lights dim.
“Then I’ll be sure to tell you only truths.” He takes her hand and pulls her to stand between his legs. She leans her back against him, listening to the music. He breathes in deeply, smelling her hair. There is a hint of vanilla. “I promise I’ll never lie to you, Victoria.”
“I don’t like promises, Callum,” she says.
“I promise to promise you nothing, then.” He moves her hair and licks the back of her neck to end this nonsensical conversation. “Please believe me,” he whispers in her ear. “I want nothing in London. All I want is between my knees.”
She leans back into him hard, feeling his intentions against her back. She smiles at his sharp intake of breath against her neck.
“I love this sweater,” Callum says, enjoying the music. Victoria is wearing her Christmas sweater for the first time with blue jeans and brown Frye boots.
“It is absolutely beautiful Callum. Thank you.”
The music is loud and the lights are low. The room is packed with new fans and old fans of this great musician. Callum slides his hand into the pocket of the new sweater which he himself cut out. The hole in the pocket is large enough for his hand to fit through.
“What is that?” Victoria startles at her torn sweater.
“Watch the show. Forget I’m even here.” He tastes her neck again and slides his hand along the waist of her jeans, touching her smooth belly with his thumb. He feels her grow heavier against him. Her neck falls farther to the side to give him greater access with his mouth. He breathes into her ear.
“I’m going to make you come.” He unbuttons her jeans under the safe cover of her gorgeous cashmere sweater.
“Callum,” she says, neither encouraging nor stopping him. The bourbon helps the inhibitions float away. Among these thousand people they seem to have a perfect privacy. His hand finds its way into her jeans and he dances his finger along her wet skin, slowly exploring and easing her to that other place, in the middle of this concert that she loves.
When she comes, breathless and quiet, he decides he will love her. There is no deciding, really. It is done. After, she turns to him and wraps her arms around his neck.
“The sweater?” she asks not understanding.
“Would you believe special order?”
“No,” she says and then there is a smash and shower of glass behind Callum’s head.
Callum instinctively pushes Victoria away from the glass. His hair is full of shards. He can’t see what is going on behind him. But he hears it.
“You fucking piece of shit,” a woman screams at him. “You motherfucker.”
The crowd backs away from her. Callum brushes glass off Victoria. When he is sure she is not hurt, he pushes her behind him away from the screaming woman.
“You put your fucking hands on my throat. You made me do things. My husband saw those marks on me. He left me, you piece of shit.”
Callum knows who she is now. She looks very different after just over a month. She has lost the glamour she had in the bar up the block and looks more like an aging drunk.
“Callum, what the hell is going on? Who is this woman? Are you bleeding? You can’t have another concussion.” She tries to examine his head, but he is almost a foot taller and he isn’t cooperating. “Are you crazy?” Victoria asks the screamer like she might get a sensible answer.
“You are the crazy one, cunt,” she slurs and turns again on Callum. “You’re fucking a rapist.”
Victoria looks wide-eyed from Callum to the crazy woman and back again. “You are out of your mind.”
“Bullshit,” she screams. “He is a pig. You are fucking a fucking rapist pig.”
Victoria tries to get around Callum, but he is having no part of it. He manages to keep Victoria back for the five seconds needed until two bouncers intervene, grabbing her, kicking and screaming, and they pull her away.
Callum freezes, trying to process what happened. He looks to Victoria and she is walking out the door, fast. This is the end. He got to love her for five minutes. Suddenly she stops. He can see her stopping and he can’t really believe it. She stops, turns and holds her hand out to him. No. This is over. He crutches past her, out and onto the street. The crutches make a dramatic departure difficult. He pushes hard to try to get away from her. He is ashamed and disgusted that his choices have brought him to this. He has finally completely ruined his own life.
“Callum stop,” Victoria nearly begs. “Talk to me. She was just some crazy woman, why are you so upset? Did that glass hit you? Please let me look.”
“No Victoria. I need to get out of here.”
“Callum stop. Please talk to me.” She pulls him into a nearby bar and slides into a booth in the corner. She orders two more bourbons because they need them.
“Talk Callum. Please.”
“No Victoria.”
“Callum what the hell is going on?” she pleads.
Against his better judgement, he takes a deep breath and begins. “She is not just some crazy woman. I knew her.” He could have lied, but he’s not doing that anymore. He’s doing things differently this time around. “She wasn’t like that before.”
“Did you sleep with her Callum?”
He nods.
“She says you’re a rapist Callum?”
“I did
not rape her.”
“Why does she think you did, Callum?” Her voice sounds like the voice she uses when she wants Marina to focus.
He shakes his head. “I don’t want to discuss this with you.”
“Yet, here we are with glass in our hair covered in beer.” She manages to keep calm. He doesn’t know how. He’s not calm. “So fucking talk Callum.”
“I think we are through,” he says. “You and me. I think this is the end of us.”
“Are you telling me you raped her, Callum?”
He can tell she is trying to keep control of her voice and he doesn’t answer.
“Callum, you have been nothing but gentle and kind and understanding and giving with me every second we have spent together in bed and out. You are damn near polite in bed, Callum. It just doesn’t seem possible.”
He speaks to the bourbon, gazing at the deep caramel color. “I picked her up in a bar on my way west. We had sex. Everything I say now makes me sound like I did something wrong, but it didn’t feel wrong at the time. I don’t want us to be done Victoria.”
“Tell me, Callum. I trust you. Now trust me.”
“We had sex. It was anonymous, the way she wanted it. It was rough. I liked it. She liked it. After, I asked her if she was satisfied and she said she was. It was one hundred percent consensual.”
“What were the marks? How rough were you?”
He closes his eyes. He can’t look at her, but he does tell the truth. “I held her throat. Auto asphyxiation. She liked it. She came twice. It was consensual.”
She stares at him blank faced.
“I’m not a rapist, but she was right. I am a piece of shit.”
He throws some cash on the table and walks from the bar. She follows him silently. He knows it is over between them. He crutches up the hill. He feels her hand on his back. She can’t hold his hand with the crutches. He really thinks it is over between them. Then her hand rubs his back, soothing his worries away.
“Stop Callum,” she says and pulls him into an alley. They are surrounded by red brick and endless colors of graffiti. Her arms encircle his neck. “Just stop. I’m not the same person I was when we met. Knowing you and being with you has changed me. I was afraid of opening up and needing anyone. I was hiding out in Park City alone with my very unhappy kid. Look how you helped me change my life. I don’t think you are the same either. Remember that day we met in the hospital and you were screaming and swearing at me? You are different Callum.”
Forever Falling Page 14