Freed by Him

by GL Chapple

  I’d had to let her land a few hits and had been careful not to hurt her when I caught or threw her, feeling her annoyance as she’d known I was holding back.

  The most painful thing had been watching my strong, beautiful warrior crumple in front of me. Holding her as she broke down in my arms had hurt. Seeing the anguish on her face had been like a knife twisting in my gut. I’d have given anything to have been able to take away her pain.

  Her silence in the car had been deafening. She had looked lost, so fragile I’d wanted to pull over and drag her across into my lap. Her voice when she finally spoke to me was so raw and full of emotion it was heartbreaking.

  She shouldn’t have been affecting me like this, we’d only known each other a few weeks but the strength of my feelings for her was unnerving.

  I tried to diffuse the tension of the situation with humour, teasing her and watching her jaw hit the floor in shock at my crude words to her.

  Her face flushed, she tried to resist the smile that played on her lips as she laughed loudly, the sound a soothing balm to the rage the flooded through me at the thought of the arseholes that had hurt her, past and present.

  Her smile lit me up inside, I could repeat like a mantra that I wasn’t falling for her, but it was getting harder and harder to believe.

  I wanted to prove to her, maybe to myself as well, that she could and did trust me. I’d gained her trust in the ring but I wanted to build on it. I wanted her to know that it was complete, that she could trust me completely and totally. I didn’t know what the issue was, but I wanted all of her.

  She flinched when I ran my hand over her and I tried to reassure her. She wanted me; that much was obvious but she was hesitant and I knew that whatever the reason, this was a big obstacle for her.

  I took my time and built up to it, reminding her that she had the option to stop. Watching her as she fell apart, whimpering and moaning under my touch was the most erotic and intimate thing I’d ever experienced.

  Everything about her was intoxicating and addictive. I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face whenever I thought of her.

  Fucking tangled-up webs and shit, she’d weaved herself all around me without me even noticing.

  I was late arriving to see my grandfather and he began to grumble at me before I’d even made it through the door. I apologised and he grunted in annoyance. We began a game of chess and I could feel him watching me intently as I tried to feign concentration.

  He pressed for me for details about my “lady friend,” teasing that she was obviously having an effect on me if I was content to spend a lazy morning with her, leaving a sad, lonely, old man on his own.

  I laughed. “Not averse to using emotional blackmail though, old man” I muttered providing him with the bare minimum details to stop his persistent questioning.

  I could stay for only an hour or so as I needed to get back to go to work. Just as I was about to leave he spoke up, “You given any more thought to this wedding of your brother’s, boy?” I sighed heavily.

  “To be honest, I’ve not given it too much more thought. I just feel that maybe, if he is reaching out, it would be wrong to snub him. Besides, I’m not bothered about Clarissa anymore. I’ve been getting a few weird messages too - about family coming first and making amends, I don’t know, it’s not from either of their numbers but I guess it makes you think…”

  He was looking at me thoughtfully, his jaw tense as if he was mulling something over.

  “She came to me you know; wrote a few times too, tried to get me to hand you a letter.”

  He looked apprehensive as I waited for him to continue, my own brows creased in confusion.

  “I sent her on her way, told her that if you didn’t want to speak to her, then I wasn’t going to get involved. Did I do the right thing, boy? You weren’t returning her calls and I didn’t want to make things worse. I think maybe I was selfish though, I don’t know if I should have told you…” He looked worried and I reached out and patted his hand.

  “Gramps, it’s fine. It’s all in the past now. She probably wanted to apologise, but I didn’t want to hear it then and honestly, I wouldn’t want to hear it now.”

  I flashed him a smile “I’ve really got to go but I’ll call one day next week. I’ll check my plans and let Gloria know to tell you which day.”

  He stood and embraced me tightly, calling out to me as I left. “Feel free to bring a friend.”

  Once we’d left the station Marcus turned to face me.

  “Well….” He drew it out, watching me, and I smiled. I’d told him that I had a plan to get Lena to talk to me but I hadn’t filled him in on the details. He hadn’t asked either, just grunting in response and we’d changed the subject. Something was eating away at him but he’d not shown any inclination to wanting to discuss it, over the years I’d learnt to wait him out.

  “You’re smiling! Fuck me Masters are we in the fucking twilight zone or something?!” He sounded amused, shaking his head at me in disgust. “I know she’s gorgeous and no doubt the sex is amazing…”

  I raised my eyebrows in warning but he just shook his head.

  “Is she worth all the head fucking though? Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see you having to work a bit harder for it, rather than the endless of stream of ready, willing and easy… but seriously…”

  He paused and looked at me, his tone sincere, “I don’t wanna see you get burnt again Bro…” he held eye contact for a second.

  He’d been there for the fallout after I discovered Clarissa and Jonathan together. He looked at me, communicating with a look what we didn’t need to say with words before turning away and adding, “C’mon then spill, you’re obviously pleased with yourself… I’ll be damned, Nate Masters has fallen that hard that he’s actually willing to work for it, thinking of ways to get your other half to communicate with you” He shook his head, his lips pursed together to stop his laughter escaping, “Damn, what the hell is this chick doing to you?”

  I burst out laughing at him. “She’s worth it” I said firmly.

  I saw him glance at me out of the corner of his eye, but he didn’t say anything.

  “She’s had some shit going on, her father’s really ill - cancer of all things - plus she’s found out that her ex-boyfriend was blackmailing him with photos of her.” I spat the words out as though they left a disgusting taste in my mouth and I felt him looking over at me again. I carried on before he could interrupt, “and to top it off, she’s been getting hate mail that her father had hidden from her, but that had obviously bothered him enough that he arranged for her to have additional security, all without her knowledge. She’s pissed at being kept in the dark.”

  Marcus sucked in his breath. “Fuck.” he muttered.

  “Yeah, fuck indeed,” I repeated and he grimaced.

  “And she’s worth the headwork and effort? I mean seriously, you’re jumping from zero hassle to fucking five-days-a-week soap-opera-shit drama, she’s worth the bullshit?” He asked dubiously, still not looking convinced and I nodded again.

  “Yeah, yeah, she is.”

  He looked pensive for a moment before breaking into a smile. “OK then, so what’s the plan?”

  He was a good guy, one of the best. I knew no matter what, he’d have my back. Even if he didn’t agree with me, he’d support me.

  “I need to find out what the hell’s going on first, her father’s dealt with the ex apparently. He better not have paid the fucker off,” I scowled.

  “The letters though - Surely a bit of hate mail is to be expected? Young, beautiful, successful woman. She’s going to have her haters,” Marcus queried, changing subject slightly and pulling me away from thoughts of the pain I’d like to inflict on her ex.

  I shrugged. “I’m not sure, I’ve not seen the letters yet; enough that her old man asked for security though, unless he was just being overly cautious, I don’t know,” I sighed.

  Marcus turned to face me as he pulled the car over. �
��Just let me know if you need me to do anything. Just make sure it goes down on a day when Kelly’s not working so she can be our alibi.” He said half-jokingly.

  We spent the afternoon chasing up enquiries from a previous incident before going back to the station to complete paperwork. Towards the end of the shift Marcus stuck his head around the door.

  “Hey, I just thought, what about that guy from the refuge? He wasn’t charged with anything afterwards. D’ya think he could be behind the hate mail?”

  I pondered it for a minute but shook my head. “I think it’s been going on for longer than a few weeks. I’ll check though, Thanks.”

  He closed the door again and I leaned back in my chair. I really needed to speak to Lena’s father and find out what the hell was going on, but I didn’t know the guy. It wasn’t like I could just turn up at his door and start demanding answers.

  I considering calling him as a police officer, telling him I was chasing things up from our end, but I knew that Lena would see straight through that. I couldn’t imagine her being pleased with me being so underhand. I’m not sure how happy her father would be either, being caught out lying to him probably wouldn’t be the best start. I felt frustrated though, I wasn’t going to be content to leave this hanging in the air.

  I finished up and waited for Marcus at the reception, chatting to one of the guys covering the desk. He walked towards the door and gave me a thumbs-up when he saw me standing there.

  Sliding into the passenger seat he turned the radio on. A pop song came blaring out over the speakers and I burst out laughing - it was the damn shower song again.

  He turned to me, a look of disgust on his face. “Seriously… this shit?”

  I changed from radio to CD and flicked him the finger. “I don’t control the radio, arsehole.”

  We drove a few minutes in silence before he turned back to me.

  “You decided what you’re gonna do about the wedding?” he asked.

  “It had slipped from my mind to be honest. My Gramps asked and reminded me this morning too.”

  I flexed my fingers, tapping the wheel, “Maybe he’s trying to reach out? Maybe he wants to make amends and put things in the past, I’m not sure.”

  Marcus coughed. “More likely he wants to rub your face in it, maybe he wants to goad you into a reaction; or maybe he is trying to get close again, but you can be damn sure it won’t be because he wants to play the loving brother. Just be careful, Nate. I know he’s family, but he creeps me the fuck out.”

  I roared with laughter, that’s the thing with a best friend - the longer they know you, the less of a filter they have and Marcus had lost his a long time ago. He told me straight, no pulling back or sweetening up. He told me what he thought and to hell with whether I wanted to hear it or not.

  I knew that he’d never got on with Jonathan. To be fair Jonathan and I had never been close. He’d always resented me and had made it clear. Taking Clarissa had been the final straw in a long line of shitty things that he’d done.

  It had started with small insignificant things - the breaking of toys, placing the blame on me for silly misdemeanours, childish things that I’m sure the majority of siblings go through.

  It was as we grew up that his mild annoyance with me seemed to escalate. Blaming me for breaking a vase was one thing; trying to pin the theft and writing-off of my father’s car was quite another.

  The irony was that of the two of us, he was the studious one. He had no reason to rebel or lash out, my parents were so proud of how much he’d achieved. They threw him a lavish party when he finished his internship and was taken on by a law office.

  He was never content though, always consumed by jealousy and an imagined bias. I found as I grew up that it was easier to avoid him and to be careful not to put myself into any situations he could twist to his advantage.

  Marcus had always suspected that Jonathan could have been the reason that I’d had to drop out of university. I’d considered his theory, but it seemed such an extreme thing to do.

  I’d been discovered with a quantity of cocaine in my room after an anonymous tip-off and had narrowly avoided the police being involved. My parents had been horrified and terribly upset.

  The university, after a great deal of persuasion and wanting to avoid the scandal and shame this would bring onto it, had agreed to allow me to walk away without involving the police as long as I left there and then.

  I’d been more angry than upset; university life wasn’t for me anyway. I hadn’t been enjoying it and had already considered dropping out to join the armed forces but I hadn’t mentioned it to anyone, and the fact that the choice was made for me infuriated me.

  The injustice of it staggered me. The potential implications it could have had on my life were enormous but I was never able to get evidence of who was actually to blame or who had set me up.

  I couldn’t imagine that my brother could hold so much hatred and resentment of me that he would try to ruin my life.

  I’d eventually convinced my parents that the drugs weren’t anything to do with me, and although they weren’t pleased with my decision to leave and join the armed forces they supported me.

  Dragging myself back from my thoughts, I glanced over at Marcus. “You really think I shouldn’t go?” I asked, wanting to know his opinion.

  He looked me straight in the eye. “I think he’s after the money.”

  I felt myself tense up at his mention of it. Marcus was the only person who knew about the terms of my parent’s will.

  “That makes no sense” I muttered and he shrugged.

  “I know you haven’t got it yet, but he’s a crazy bastard and time is running out. Seriously, Nate, think twice, what’s your Gramps say?” he enquired making me cringe.

  “Now there’s a face that answers my question. Good old Gramps!” he chuckled.

  “He’s still mad at him over Clarissa, I hate that they’ve fallen out…”

  I began in response but Marcus spoke sharply.

  “That’s fuck all to do with you, Nate. They fell out because your brother is a fucking prick and your grandfather isn’t a dotty old imbecile. He’s more than capable of seeing people for what they are. Personally, I think you’re insane to consider going, but it’s your family. Do what you think is best.”

  He turned away, conversation closed as far as he was concerned and I drove him home lost in my own thoughts.

  Nate

  My parents had died just over a year before - a car crash as they were driving back home from a short break away.

  My father had been driving and had died instantly. The fire crew had cut my mother from the car and she’d been rushed to hospital and straight into surgery.

  I could remember every moment of the day that I received the phone call, the small insignificant details of my morning burned into my mind.

  I’d not long been back in the country. Back on civvy street, I’d been staying with my parents until I’d sorted myself some accommodation. I’d got up early and gone for a long run, come back and jumped in the shower and had just sat down to eat some breakfast when the phone had rung. I’d let it go to voicemail and continued to eat.

  The second I’d heard the professional voice on the end of the line I’d flown out of my chair and snatched the phone out of its cradle.

  I’d known instantly it was bad news. You get used to hearing the tone and unsaid words in a person’s speech when you hear enough bad news.

  I’d spoken to my father only a few hours earlier when their plane had landed and I’d been expecting them back any time.

  The doctor refused to tell me anything of substance over the phone, simply requesting my immediate presence at the hospital. I’d left my half-eaten food on the counter, grabbed my car keys and phone and raced out of the house as I was.

  I’d sped to the hospital, hitting redial as I drove, trying frantically to get hold of Jonathan. I’d not spoken to him for just over a year, since I’d caught him with Clarissa. I assu
med his number would be the same but he wasn’t picking up the call. I tried Clarissa, but it just rang and rang and I cursed and shouted as I drove.

  I threw the car into the nearest space to the entrance and burst into the hospital. I gave my details to the reception and was redirected down corridors to another part of the hospital. I was left to sit in a bland, empty waiting room.

  I knew before I saw the police officer that it was bad news, my gut revolting at the words I was going to hear.

  I was informed that my mother was in surgery and that someone would come out to speak to me as soon as they could.

  I sat in the waiting room for three hours, hitting redial trying to get hold of my brother. I couldn’t think of my father, trying instead to focus on my mother and will her to fight.

  I didn’t move from the seat, feeling the numbness that was in my chest spread throughout my body. The glimmer of hope I’d been holding onto was extinguished when I saw the face of the surgeon as he walked towards me in his scrubs, compassion and sympathy showing on his tired-looking features.

  “Mr. Masters? Please sit down; I’m so very sorry….”

  The rest of his words were just noise to me. I came to understand later that she’d suffered huge trauma to her internal organs. They’d fought to save her, but she’d simply lost too much blood and her body hadn’t been able to cope. She’d suffered a cardiac arrest on the operating table and they hadn’t been able to revive her.

  I’d mumbled that she wanted to be an organ donor, asked if she could still help anyone and he’d nodded and told me someone would come and speak to me. I’d sat there in a trance until I felt a hand on my shoulder, I completed the necessary paperwork and been given a small bag of possessions.

  It felt surreal…I’d had plenty of experience of death and heartache during my time in the service, more than anyone should have to deal with.