Falling for a Bentley

by Adriana Law

“So how is everything with Sterling,” she clears her throat awkwardly again “How’s Los Angeles?”

  She knows things aren’t so good in paradise.

  “Honestly, things couldn’t be any worse. I don’t know what to do.” I admit. “I don’t want you to think I only called you because everything is so horrible, but I’d be lying if I said I was okay.” My words fall out of my mouth like pebbles in a waterfall.

  I’m not okay.

  “What’s wrong Tori? Tell me what I can do to help, anything,” she replies.

  “Could you get me Charlotte’s number? I have a few questions I need to ask her,” I cautiously ask, trying to avoid the J word. We’re not ready for that

  “I’m actually at Jonah’s right now! I’ll get her for you,” she squeals, excited to help.

  So Jonah heard all of that, great.

  “Victoria, what’s wrong? Can you hear me?” the reception cause’s her words to go in and out giving me time to soak up the situation at hand: Sterling passed out in my lap, bleeding.

  I hear the door to their home open and close on the other end; my panic mode sets in as soon as Charlotte is on the line.

  “Sterling hit the bathroom cabinet and split open his cheek. His cut was bleeding pretty bad,” comes out in a rush. The adrenaline pumping inside my body makes me talk faster than normal. I’m not even sure anything I’m saying makes sense. It’s all a blur, the entire night. “The cut finally stopped bleeding and then he passed out on the floor by the toilet. He made me promise I wouldn’t call 911, but I-I can’t wake him up now. I feel so helpless! He’s been asleep for five hours. How can anyone sleep for five hours straight on the floor? What if he never wakes up? Is that possible?”

  “Listen, Tori, I want you to take a deep breath. You need to calm down. Everything is going to be okay.”

  “But—”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can only imagine what you’ve seen,” she says.

  I cover my mouth with a trembling hand to muffle a sob so she won’t hear it. I’m losing it. I’m falling apart, coming unraveled. She goes on, “Pretty scary stuff I bet. I want you to think about how much he’s suffered over the past forty eight hours, so you’ll understand me when I say Sterling being comfortable enough to sleep is a good thing. Do you agree?”

  I nod, forgetting she can’t see me.

  “I can be there in a couple of hours.” Charlotte says. “Don’t try to move him until I get there. You won’t be able to do it by yourself. He probably doesn’t have enough strength left in him to help you get him off the floor even if he did wake up, so let him be until I get there. Okay?”

  “You don’t have to pay for a plane ticket to come here … I didn’t expect….” I choke out.

  “I know I don’t have to, but will it make you feel better if I come and make sure he is okay?”

  “Yes. Thank you, Charlotte!” I wipe away the tears rolling down a cheek. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

  “I know exactly how much you appreciate it, Tori. I’ve experienced it from both sides: my own battle with addiction and Jonah’s fathers.”

  Teepee

  Victoria

  “Okay, let’s help him up and try to get him into the tub,” she says kneeling next to Sterling on the floor.

  “You sure a bath ….”

  “He’s not going to like it, but it will make him feel better.” She stands over him, checking the cut. “Hopefully after we get him cleaned up we’ll be able to get him into the bed where he can sleep this exhaustion off. How long has he been going through withdraws?” She glances up at me. I’m shaking. I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten or slept. All I’ve wanted to do is watch over him. The sternness in her voice snaps me out of my trance, “Hey! I know you’re worried. He’s going to be okay.” My eyes snap to hers, hers soften. “I promise. I’m going to need you to be strong though and help me.” I nod. “How long has he been going through withdraws?”

  I hug myself with my arms. “Um, five days?” I shake my head to clear it. “Yeah. Five days.”

  “Perfect.” She gives his shoulder a furious shake, a palm covering the tattoo on his bicep. I fight the urge to tell her he is not as bad as he seems. I wonder if the tattoos have already caused her to form an opinion of him. I don’t want her to have a bad opinion of him already even he is laid out on the bathroom floor, bleeding, smelling like sour vomit.

  “Sterling, we’re going to get you up now. Get you a nice hot bath,” She says slow and loud enough to interrupt his sleep. He moans, slightly lifts his head, his eyes unfocused on the room.

  “Grab an arm, Tori.”

  I do as I’m told and we heave Sterling up to his feet. He stumbles, staggering back on the bathroom cabinet. A can of shaving cream falls off the cabinet rolling over the tile. He rests his rear-end against the cabinet, propping himself up, clutching the edges of the granite top. His face is washed out. His eyes are weak and distant. Muscles tighten under my fingers wrapped around his upper arm. His eyes penetrate mine and then slide to Charlotte on the other side of him.

  “Who the hell are you?” he asks her.

  “Help me get him undressed,” she says, ignoring the moody glare she is receiving from him.

  I reach for the button of his jeans, working on unfastening it. My trembling fingers accidently brush the coarse hair disappearing under his jeans and my breath catches. I grimace, struggling to get the zipper down.

  “Nobody is undressing me,” Sterling spits, slapping my hand away. I tense. He adds, “Not while some strange woman is watching.”

  Charlotte chuckles. “I have a son close to your age. You’re not going to show me anything I haven’t already seen.”

  A slow smug smile creeps on Sterling’s face. “Don’t be so sure, lady.”

  “All right Romeo, I’m sure you are impressive, but trust me, my interest goes no further than getting you in the tub.”

  He glances over at me. “What’s this crazy woman doing here?”

  “I called her. You passed out in your own puke. It was more than I could handle own my own.”

  Sterling looks back at Charlotte and waits for her to say something profound; to enlighten him with her wisdom; something that makes her worthy of being here in Sterling Bentleys almighty bathroom. I’m embarrassed by his cockiness. I’m sure Charlotte has dealt with guys just like Sterling before; guys who can’t be told anything they haven’t already heard a thousand times, but it is still embarrassing.

  Charlotte’s hands go to her waist and she levels Sterling with a determined look. She is clearly accepting his challenge.

  “You’re a prisoner,” she simply states. “Do you want to continue to be one?”

  Sterling snorts and rolls his eyes. I small laugh escapes from me. Can he be anymore stubborn?

  Charlotte doesn’t back down. “You’ve built all these walls thinking they will protect you, but what you don’t realize is you’ve imprisoned yourself in darkness. Now I know you’re going to fight me every step of the way while I try to help you, but I will strip you myself if I have to.”

  “How do you know this … about the darkness?” He eyes her as if he is suddenly aware she is not a figment of his imagination.

  “I was in the same darkness,” she tells him giving his jeans a yank. They drop to his ankles and I instantly look away, blushing miserably. Charlotte clears her throat. Oh goodness. Please let Sterling be wearing boxers. My head turns, my squinted eyes slowly cracking.

  “Of course not,” I mutter out loud.

  They both look at me. I’m sure Charlotte thinks Sterling and I have already had sex. She has no idea we’ve only kissed. Once.

  I force myself not to stare at his penis.

  “Lift your foot,” Charlotte says bending over and pulling the jeans puddled around his ankles out from underneath his feet.

  Sterling doesn’t say another word. Charlotte Steven’s just showed him whose boss.
r />   Once Sterling is settled in the tub Charlotte gathers his jeans off the floor and pauses with her hand on the doorknob. “Let me know when you’re finished bathing him and I’ll help you get him out.”

  The bathroom door clicks closed.

  I kneel beside the tub, submerge my hands, wetting a wash cloth and soaping it up.

  “You don’t have to do this,” he says.

  “Yes I do. I’m not leaving you in here by yourself.”

  He leans up and I start on his shoulders and chest. He stares at me from under long wet lashes and I struggle to keep my breathing normal with my hands feeling the dips and planes of his muscles. I’m very aware of the rhythm of his breaths, ours seeming to become one. He relaxes and hangs his head with a sigh. I squeeze the wash cloth and hot water trickles down the arch of his neck, down over his back. I watch the beads of water.

  He is the strongest and most damaged man I’ve ever met. But I have my own wounds, don’t I? So how can I judge?

  “Lie back so I can do your legs,” I struggle to keep my voice unaffected.

  He lays back intently watching me, his lips curling slightly as if he is amused. His incredible dimples show causing a tightening in my chest. I break out in a sweat, rubbing more soap on the wash cloth and leaning over, starting on a leg. Water flattens the hair on his legs to his flesh. I scrub and rinse, avoiding glancing at his mid-section. I can’t help but touch him in the course of bathing him. Willing myself to think of bathing him as only helping a friend I find myself enjoying it in ways that are anything but friendly.

  His hips are narrow with nothing more than flesh over hard bones. His stomach is firm, resilient.

  “This is really bothering you, isn’t it?” His voice comes out hoarse. One quick peek and I see he is hard from me bathing him. His legs are slightly bent, resting open against the sides of the tub, his erection lying up on his belly, his long muscular arms stretched along the sides of the tub. My cheeks catch fire and I squirm under his intense gaze. He grins and I know he knows I am getting worked up.

  Resting my forearms on the side of the tub I continue to soap up a rag that already is foaming with excessive bubbles. A large hand seizes my hands forcing me to stop. My eyes connect with his. He removes the rag from my clenched hand allowing it to splash into the water. His fingers circle one of my wrists and he drags my hand toward him.

  “Touch me,” he orders low and raspy.

  Knuckles tap on the bathroom door and I instantly yank my hand away, surging to my feet. Water splashes as Sterling sits up hastily in the tub.

  “Ready to get him out yet?” Charlotte calls thru the door.

  I panic lunging for the door knob to open it, mostly because I don’t want her to think anything is going on.

  “Wait.” Sterling warns me, his eyes dropping to his erection. “You’re going to have to give me a second for this to go down.”

  I frantically scoop up a towel from the floor and toss it at him.

  “Cover it up,” I mouth at him.

  “Umm, that’s not going to work. I’ll have a Tepee.”

  The flash of his dimples infuriates me.

  “This is a lot for a young girl to absorb.”

  Victoria

  A couple of hours later Sterling is asleep. It was a lot easier getting him out of the tub than it was getting him in. Charlotte was right. The bath helped tremendously. For the first time in days he seemed to be at peace, that torturous look of constant pain gone.

  Now Charlotte and I sit at the small table off from the kitchen enjoying the quiet of the apartment, talking. She’s actually the first person I’ve seen beside Sterling in days. I’d not realized how much affect what he was going through was having on me until I stared across the table at another face. I burst into tears the instant she reached across on patted my hand. She didn’t say a word while I unleashed what had been pent up inside me for days. Finally I take control of my emotions shooting her an apologetic look.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know why that just happened,” I laugh out, smearing the last of the tears out from under my eyes. “Good thing I wasn’t wearing mascara. That would have been a disaster.”

  “This is a lot for a young girl to absorb,” Charlotte says. “I’m sure you’re terrified you’re going to let him down, but at the same time you probably feel like running as far away from him as you can get.”

  “Oh no, you’re going to make me cry again,” I warn her, fanning my face and blinking up at the ceiling. When I’m positive I can look at Charlotte again without losing it, I lower my gaze to her. “I’ve read somewhere it takes ten days to break a habit. Is that true?” I ask her, pulling a foot up in the chair, balancing my chin on my knee.

  She shakes her head. “It takes ten days to make a habit, forty days to break it and even that doesn’t apply here, Tori. Once your boyfriend makes it through the withdrawals it’s not over, nowhere close. This is serious. I’m not sure you fully understand how serious it is.”

  My stomach flutters at her choice of words. “I don’t know if calling him ‘my boyfriend’ is accurate. We haven’t really discussed what we are.”

  She leans forward, forearms on the table, her fingers circling the mug of coffee in front of her. “All the more reason for you to listen closely to what I’m about to tell you.”

  I swallow hard, not so sure I want to hear what she has to say. It’s not like I don’t trust her. I do. Completely. But I don’t want anyone to change my feelings for Sterling. As crazy as it sounds I’m addicted to the way he makes me feel. I don’t want anyone tainting those feelings.

  She offers me a sympathetic look as if she knows how deep I am in this. “Victoria,” Oh no. Use of my real name. Here it comes. I straighten my spine in the chair. “You need to really think hard before you have sex with this guy. Don’t look so surprised. It was obvious, the way you acted in the bathroom earlier.” She inches a little closer to the table. “It’s really none of my business but I feel like I should warn you that sex is a huge step. To me … sex is a commitment; whether it’s on a little piece of paper or not; sexual partners will always own a piece of you. Give away to many pieces of yourself and you’ll feel empty. You can’t take it back.”

  I nod. “I understand.”

  She tilts her head, studies me. “Do you really?” She exhales a long breath. “Sterling will struggle with his addiction for the rest of his life. He will crave it every single day. Every time life gets a little crappy he’ll think about using. When everything is going perfect he’ll think about using. He’ll wake up at 2:30 a.m. for no reason at all craving it. It’ll cross his mind while dropping the kids off at little league. Is that something you see in your future?”

  “This isn’t about me. It’s about him.”

  “You’re wrong. The ones that love an addict, it is very much about them. If he fails you’ll blame yourself, hell, he’ll blame you because it will be easier than him facing where the real blame should fall. It will wear you down as much as it does him and you won’t even be the one using.”

  “So you’re saying it’s impossible?”

  “No. Not impossible. Life changing.” She sighs. “Have you ever been in love with someone so much it hurts, and even though you know loving them will destroy you … it doesn’t matter?”

  “Yes,” I choke out. “Sterling.”

  There it is again. The pity look. She lowers her gaze to the black coffee in her mug. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  Quickly I smear away the tears hoping she doesn’t see them.

  “He will need help,” Charlotte says. “He won’t be able to do it alone no matter how tough he thinks he is.”

  “He brought me here because he didn’t want to be alone,” I acknowledge out loud for the first time. “You know, going through this. He doesn’t want to be alone.”

  “That’s fine, Tori, but he will need more than you. He’ll need counseling, serious counseling. Sterling has some serious soul wounds. There are reasons why he u
ses. Those reasons are not going to magically disappear.”

  I think of Sterling’s father and the way he bullies him: the beatings. A young child being told he can never do anything right. That he is worthless. How his mother left him. I imagine Sterling has always felt like an outsider, as if he didn’t belong anywhere.

  My heart literally aches and I rub the area directly over it.

  “And even counseling won’t be enough,” Charlotte continues. “All they can do is help him sort out his past. Sterling is going to have to learn how to forgive what was done to him before it destroys him. That kind of strength only comes from one place.” She bends, digging her iphone out of her purse. “Can I read you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Give me a second.” She swipes a finger over the screen, talking while she looks up something on her iphone. “I’m still getting used to using this thing. My fingers are too thick. I’m always hitting the wrong letter. You ever have that problem?” She chuckles but doesn’t look up. “Of course not; if a strong wind came up it would blow your skinny butt away.” She pauses. “I recently downloaded a bible app; my favorite thing about this phone now. You can search any word.” She turns it so I can see the screen. “Like for instant you can search the word darkness and find all kinds of scripture.” Her face brightens with pure joy. “Here we go. Found what I was looking for.” Her gaze flickers up to mine for a second. “I hope you don’t find this offensive? I just want to share something with you that gave me comfort when my life was falling apart.

  “Not at all.” I give her a genuine smile scooting my chair closer to the table.

  She reads scripture out loud:

  “I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. These are the things I will do; I will not forsake them. (Isaiah 42:16)

  Sterling is not alone, Tori. God’s waiting on him to call out.

  “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was mad that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.” (John 1: 1-5)