by Lyssa Layne
''Scotts, you fucking prick. If you’re not with her again, why is she here? Care to explain to me why you lied? I don't like fucking liars.'' Dean rushes towards me and I didn't anticipate him coming this way. I thought he was going to go for Abbie. He punches my ribs a couple of times, but the blows aren’t heavy. He’s so drunk, he can barely control his own body.
''Dean. Stop!'' Abbie yells. ''Dean! Shit! Stop that.''
I’m rolling on the floor with a drunk guy trying to hit me, and then I see Abbie approaching, trying to force him away from me. What the hell is she thinking?
''Abbie!'' I look up at her, straight in to her worried green eyes. ''Leave,'' I order. ''Now.'' I give her my best ‘don't argue’ face even as I keep grappling with Dean.
Dean manages to land a punch on my face. That one hurt a little more, but it’s still not a direct hit. Dean is a sloppy fighter when he’s drunk. ''Abbie, LEAVE NOW!'' I shout. I’m relieved when she runs out the door, and I try to get some control over Dean. He connects another punch to my face.
''Cameron!'' Abbie hasn’t left. To my dismay she’s back in the doorway and she’s crying. ''Dean, stop please!''
Hurley loosens his grip and looks at Abbie, his eyes filled with fury. '' You’re mine, Abbie. I won't tolerate any other guys sniffing around you, don't you get that?''
''Dean, it’s been months since we broke up,'' she sobs. ''Why now? We’re over!'' She’s stepping closer, I know she’s trying to make him realize that what he’s doing isn’t going to help. Dean frees one of his arms and pushes her. Abbie stumbles on the carpet and falls on her behind with a frightened cry.
That’s it, I’ve had enough. I punch Dean hard in the jaw, and he falls onto his side. I push him off me and onto the floor.
Confirming Dean is knocked out, I get to Abbie as fast as I can and take her in my arms. She isn’t hurt, but mentally and emotionally she’s a wreck. She sobs in my arms, and her tears drop onto my skin, her warm breath raising the hairs on my neck. I’m reacting to her as if she was still my girlfriend, and I know I have to pull back. She needs me as a friend and needs my support.
''Are you okay, Abbie, are you hurt?''
''Why is he here, Cameron?'' she asks between sobs.
''Because you, Abbie, seem to have the power to own any man you want and clearly, Dean couldn't let you go. He’s just got a really lousy way of showing you he still loves you.''
''He never loved me, Cam. I know what love is – you and Presley showed me. Dean was just wrong, always controlling me and making me feel worthless. That wasn’t love. Why can’t he leave me alone?''
''Maybe we should call the cops?'' I suggest.
''I bet Presley already did.'' She manages a weak smile. ''I sent him a text when I saw Dean was here. He’s probably already on his way.''
''Fine, we’ll wait for him to arrive and if he hasn’t telephoned them, I will.'' I release her slowly, needing to get a little space between us. ''Come on, Abbie, we’ll sit at the table and wait for Presley to arrive.'' I get to my feet and offer my hand to help her up. My cheek is throbbing. Obviously Dean got one good punch in, but I don’t think it’s serious.
''Abbie? Cameron?'' I hear Presley yelling as he rushes in.
Abbie jumps into Presley’s arms and he holds her tightly against him. Her crying grows hysterical again.
Presley glances down at the unconscious Dean and gives me a thumbs up.
''The cops are on their way up. They were pulling up outside as I came into the lobby but I had to see Abbie. I didn't want to wait for them.'' He kisses Abbie’s hair. ''Are you okay? Did he hurt Abbie?''
''I’m fine and I think Abbie is, too. He gave her a shove and she fell down, but I don’t think it’s anything serious.''
The cops arrive and I explain the whole situation. Then Presley describes the last encounter they had with Dean to the police, and I get some ice from the freezer for my face. I didn't know Dean had caused trouble for Abbie before. If I had known, I don't think I would have been as patient with him. He’s obviously a psycho.
Abbie has gotten her emotions back under control, and is able to talk calmly to the police officers. Dean is awake and completely confused by the look of him. He is handcuffed and taken into custody. I ask the police officer if I’ll be in trouble for knocking Dean out, but he reassures me that I did the right thing.
Two hours later, when the cops have finally left the apartment, Abbie looks exhausted. I’m pretty sure she only has one thing on mind – going home.
''Cam, is the food ready? I’m starving,'' Abbie announces when I shut the door on the police. Presley chuckles beside her.
''Abbie, after all that, you’re still hungry? You look exhausted. You can always come back tomorrow night for dinner.''
''I’m okay, Cam, and I am hungry. I’m just glad they’re going to deal with him.''
She never ceases to amaze me and I grin. ''Okay, then. Let me get dinner ready.''
I get the steaks onto the grill. Everything else was ready and only needs to be reheated. Fortunately, there’s enough food to go around, now that there’s three of us.
Presley really is a nice guy. As much as I care for Abbie and wish things were different, I think he makes her happy in every respect. He hasn't left her side since he came in. He seems very protective, in a good way. He loves her – that much is clear – always has been. I look at them, sitting together at the table. The expression on their faces reflects love, lust, passion, protectiveness, and so much more. I get it now; they’re perfect for one another. I have to respect that.
The table is set, dinner is ready. I take two Advil to ward of an approaching headache, compliments of Dean. I open some red wine, too. I serve Presley and Abbie and then we start eating.
''It’s so good, Cam, you’re such a great cook,'' Abbie says.
''Thanks, we should do this more often.''
Presley remains quiet, but by the look on his face, he’s enjoying the meal.
''Cam, I came here for a reason, but first, I want to tell you how sorry I am that you had to deal with Dean. Thank you for the way you handled the situation,'' Abbie announces. She places her knife and fork down on her plate, and lowers her gaze to her fingers.
''Abbie, it's not your fault. I didn't want him to hurt you.''
She glanced up and offered me a little smile. ''I have something I want to ask you Cameron. It might seem a bit crazy at first, but I want you to think about it. Take a few days if you want.''
I’m worried now. What is she talking about? Her expression is so serious. Her eyes are still red and swollen from all the crying, but there’s a maturity to her that I’ve never seen before. Whatever it is, it must be something big.
''If you want me to get out of the apartment, I’ll find another place. Don't worry about it.''
''No... No... Absolutely not! It's nothing to do with the apartment. I’m happy to have you living here.” She smiles softly. “It’s regarding the wedding ceremony. I want you to be there, Cam. I really want you to be there with me.'' She glances up at Presley and smiles. ''With us.''
My initial reaction is relief. ''Of course I’ll be there, Abbie, it’s no problem at all.'' I laugh nervously. Is that all she was worried about? I don't even need to think about it. I wink at her, trying to lighten the mood. ''I’ll even wear a tux, if you want me too.''
''You’ll have to wear a tux.'' She takes a deep breath and her next words come out in a rush. ''Not only do I want you there with us but... well, you know... it’ll be a private ceremony. There won't be hundreds of guests. It's basically Presley’s family, myself, and you. I don't have family anymore, Cameron, and you’re the closest thing I have to a brother. You mean so much to me. What I’m trying to ask here, is will you walk me down the aisle?''
I’m speechless. I would never have dreamed this is what she wanted to ask me, and I don't know what to think of the idea. I’d always imagined Abbie walking down the aisle to me, not walking her down the aisle to give her away to someone else.
''Yeah, okay.'' It’s all I manage to say. I was never going to marry Abbie; I knew that already. We’re good friends, and I’m fine with that. Ryan and Erin are both dead. I’m happy she considers me family.
I remain quiet and Presley and Abbie respect my silence. I think it’s an unusual idea, but it’s true, basically Abbie and I are family after all.
''I’ll do it. I’ll do it for you, Abbie.” I finally say. “I care for you and I want to make you happy.''
She stands up and comes to me. She places her arms around me and hugs me so tightly, it almost hurts. She kisses both my cheeks.
''Thank you Cameron, so much.'' She returns to her seat and she’s grinning from ear to ear. ''Now, can we have dessert?''
Who is this woman? She just witnessed her ex-boyfriend lose his shit, got shoved by him, filed a report with the police and now, she’s sitting here, eating and talking like nothing ever happened. I’m astounded. She seems so damn strong, or maybe she’s going to break down later. Even Presley is looking at her in disbelief.
''Sure, I bought you a cheesecake.'' I collect it from the kitchen and come back to the table with plates and spoons. I offer them coffee with dessert. It's like a normal dinner among friends. We talk, laugh, and have a good time together. I’ve never had a day like this before. So many emotions, so many things have happened.
I’m glad I made the decision to fill Abbie’s request and I will walk her down the aisle. I’m... I don't know what I am. Happy, maybe.
I know Abbie is.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Presley
I’m utterly exhausted. I got so scared when I received Abbie’s text.
Abbie: 911 Dean my apt.
She didn’t have to text more than that for me to figure out what was happening.
I feel sorry for Cameron. I don’t think he was hurt, but he must feel extremely bad that he couldn’t stop Dean from pushing Abbie and hurting her. I know I would have felt guilty. Thank God Dean only pushed her; we both know it could have been a lot worse. Abbie has been through enough already.
I only want her to be safe and happy. As long as Abbie is safe and well, I’ll be able to sleep at night. I’ll do everything in my power to bring her happiness and I’ll strive to protect her until my dying breath.
We’re on our way back home and I’m driving. She’s silent in the passenger seat, staring out the window.
I turn on some music. It’s Chopin–‘Heartfelt Happiness’, my favorite piece. I haven’t played piano very much lately. Maybe I should play for Abbie later. I know she loves it and it relaxes her, and my only goal is to make sure today ends on a good note.
Abbie’s asleep by the time we arrive home. She looks like an angel when she’s sleeping, at peace, even though she’s had a rough day. I can hardly believe how strong she is. Every time something hits her, she comes back stronger than before. She amazes me. She isn’t a quitter, and always gets back on her feet.
I don’t want to wake her up, so I'll try to get her safely into bed. I park the car and walk around to the passenger side, opening her door quietly. I place one arm under her knees, draw her right arm around my neck, and carry her inside the apartment building. The building is quiet and the elevator is waiting at the lobby. So far, so good. She winces when I grab the keys out of my pocket. I struggle to unlock the door without waking her up. She isn’t heavy, but it's kind of hard to get the key into the lock with her in my arms.
Once in the apartment, I go directly into our bedroom and lay her carefully on the bed. I untie her shoelaces and take off her shoes. Her tattoos! I forgot about them. They’re hidden beneath the sleeves of her sweater. I roll up Abbie’s sleeves and take off the bandages. They both look great. We'll clean them up properly when she wakes up in the morning. I tuck her in under the comforter and kiss her forehead before I slip out of the room.
I wander into the office, thinking about calling my father to discuss what happened today. As a lawyer, I’m sure he'll be able to come up with some ideas and help me figure out what's best for Abbie right now. I have to find a way to protect her from Dean. I thought he wouldn’t be back after the last time, but apparently, I was wrong. I'm sure Dad be willing to help us, even more so because he likes her. It’s late though, and I don’t want to worry him with a late night call, I'll call him first thing in the morning.
My eyes are burning with exhaustion, but I can't bring myself to sleep. My mind is whirling around everything that happened, her well-being and the wedding. I'm still sitting in my office, flicking through some photos of Abbie. I grab my drawing pad and start drawing Abbie’s portrait. At first, I'm a bit rusty with the techniques, but it all starts to come back. It turns out I don’t even need to look at the photographs to draw her, I have her picture engraved in my mind. I have it so bad for her, it’s almost pathetic. I laugh quietly at myself.
I remember the night I first met her, it seems such a long time ago, but it isn’t very long in reality. The connection we felt, and the look in her eyes when she first saw me, it's a memorable moment. I remember how badly I wanted to get her number, but I never believed we would connect as solidly as we have. What we share is inexplicable, no words can describe it. It’s personal to us and completely amazing.
Abbie
My heart is pounding and my whole body is shaking. Sweat is rolling down my forehead. Cameron and Dean are fighting over a child. The little girl looks a lot like me; we have the same hair and the same frightened green eyes. They’re arguing over who’s the father of the little girl. I'm trying to tell them who it is, but they don’t hear me, they don't even notice my presence. I'm out of breath from screaming at them. They start to physically fight. I try to stop them, but I’m not strong enough to force them apart. I don’t know what’s going on. I’m there with them, but I have no power over them. Dean is getting angrier as he walks toward me, yelling, calling me names I’d rather not hear. He’s going to hurt me; I know it, but...
I wake up. Alone. In our bedroom.
Presley is playing the piano. It takes me few minutes to calm down. I hate suffering from nightmares. They feel so close to reality, sometimes it’s hard to know what’s real and what isn’t. I go into the bathroom and grab a cold washcloth to wipe away the sweat covering my forehead. The washcloth feels good against my skin. I follow the sound of music and walk across to Presley, he doesn’t see me. He’s lost in his own world; thoughtful and intense. I could look at him until the end of time. He’s shirtless, as he normally is when we’re at home. With the tattoos, the pierced nipples, and the dishevelled hair, at first glance you would never believe how talented and gifted he is. He could be a concert pianist and be quite successful, I have no doubt. I'm so honored that he'll be my husband soon. His green eyes meet mine, and a smile appears on his perfect lips. ''Come and sit with me, Bee.''
I walk towards the piano. He never stops playing, and I settle next to him. I kiss his jaw and he turns to me, so I can kiss his lips. We remain silent, just listening to the melody he’s playing. It calms me and it feels so good to relax.
The music ends and he takes my hand in his. ''I'm going to talk to Dad tomorrow, and see what he thinks about Dean. Right now, the only thing I want is to get a restraining order against him. I won’t tolerate him coming near you again, Abbie. I was so scared earlier; you have no idea how frightened I was when you sent that message.''
''I think you’re right. We should do it, sooner rather than later.'' I have to admit, I was scared, too.
''Dad will take care of it. You don’t need to worry about Dean anymore, Abbie. I’m going to keep you safe from now on, I promise.''
“I trust you, Presley.'' I never trusted Dean like I do Presley. He wants my wellbeing more th
an anything in this world.
We stare into each other’s eyes for a long moment before we start kissing with hunger. I’ll never get tired of this, his lips, his body pressed against mine.
''You look tired, baby,'' I say when I draw back and look into his eyes. The shade of his eyes seems darker; a grey mixed with a midnight blue.
''I am.'' He rubs his eyes. ''I wanted to play a little and clear my head before I tried to sleep. I hope I didn't wake you.''
''No. I had a bad dream but I’m okay now.''
I can see the concern in his face, but he doesn’t ask what the nightmare was about, and I don’t want to relive the details.
''Do you want to go back to bed now? Do you think you’ll be able to sleep?” he asks.
''Yeah, I'm tired. I just wanted to come and listen to you play.''
He takes my hands and pulls me up with him. ''Come on. Let’s go to bed, my love.''
We walk to our bedroom in silence, Presley keeping my hand in his. As we enter, he lets go of my hand before we part in opposite directions, heading for our separate closets. I'm still fully dressed, and I want to get more comfortable for the night. I slowly take off my sweater; trying not to touch the tattoos. They don’t hurt, but I’d rather be careful. I unbutton my jeans and let them fall on the floor. Clad only in my underwear, as I reach to undo my bra, I hear one of my favorite songs being played in the background. I turn to look around the room. Presley is standing naked behind me, replacing my hands with his on the closure of my bra. He undoes it, slowly letting the straps fall down my arms until it drops to the floor. The touch of his fingers running down my back sends chills all over my body.
The melody of the song gives me butterflies each and every time I hear it. Presley reaches around me from behind, pulling me against him, as he whispers the words to one of my favorite romantic songs in my ear. His lips flutter against my skin. He places feather light kisses my neck, and then continues singing each and every word of ‘Say Something’ by A Great Big World. He covers my breasts with his hands and massages them so delicately, my whole body feels like I’m in a trance. He whispers more of the song's lyrics as he takes my hand in his and places it over his heart, while he holds his hand against mine. He sings the next verse to me. Presley slides his arm under my knees and lifts me, walking us over to our bed. He lays me on the sheets. His eyes are fierce, so romantically intense and blazing with desire. He rests his whole body over mine, and he kisses me, his lips and his tongue, dancing with mine. Slowly building the tension between the two of us, our kisses deepens and becomes more erratic.