by Emjay Soren
My tears fell, and I wanted to run from him, and the heartache he was causing. I threw my thoughts at Bastian with extreme anguish and betrayal. ‘How dare you let this happen?’
‘Tavern, you need to hear him out.’
“There was one thing I remember though; because I love music I guess I paid attention.” He strummed his guitar, I didn’t want to know what he had planned. I wanted out.
‘I need this about as much as I need a bullet in the head. You betrayed me, all of you, and I won’t forget it.’
‘Betrayal is a strong word. We did this because we love you, Tavern.’
“Tavern Madley, I am sorry.”
When he said my name and not Bird, I couldn’t fight myself anymore, and I spun on the bar stool gasping at the sight of him. I had not preserved him well. He wore his every day attire, but something about how put together he was, told me that he wasn’t high. Dressed in a plain black T shirt that hugged every sinuous curve of his chest, I replayed in graphic memory every inch of that flesh above me. His jeans hung low on his hips, and I could make out each distress line in the faded blue denim. His boots were the same as always, a bigger, meaner, nastier version of combat boots, and his hair was down and heartbreak beautiful.
It was then that he strummed the first chords of the song that confused me most in this situation. I had told him a while back, after one of our many trysts, that Breaking Benjamin was my favorite band. He had asked me to talk about myself, because remembering the ‘me’ before my abduction was important. I never thought he truly listened. This was probably all he remembered of that talk. This song though, was one of their few love songs.
A love song being sang to me by my only love.
Fuck him, and fuck all of this. He wasn’t fighting fair.
“I know none of ya strangers out here tonight, so I don’t ‘spect ya to understand what this song means to my Bird. But you, Tavern, you will understand my meaning, and that this is it for me…forever.”
The crowd went ballistic at his words, and I was unable to hide my tears when London and Stupor rushed to my side. “Don’t.” I gasped in pain. But they held me anyway, as my love sang his heart to me.
Search for the answers I knew all along I lost myself, we all fall down Never the wiser of what I've become Alone I stand, a broken man
I fell apart at his words and shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut trying to block him out. This wasn’t fair. He had said before that he wasn’t running from me, but all he ever did was run and leave me in his wake. Now he was making my pain and suffering public, and I couldn’t hide my broken heart.
“Please look at him, Tavern.” London begged me, but I couldn’t. I didn’t even know he could play the guitar, or that he had a voice that could bring you to your knees. He had made a song that wasn’t slow, a sensual production with just his voice and his acoustic guitar. All I knew was that he had a way with me.
All I have is one last chance I won't turn my back on you Take my hand, drag me down If you fall then I will too And I can't save what's left of you
I wanted to believe him and fall into his arms so it all would go away, but I didn’t trust him, regardless of how much I wanted him. By the end of the song I couldn’t take any more and I ran for the bathroom. The crowd was calling for an encore, and even my friends, who were his friends too, I know, were cheering him on.
I didn’t get far though. A woman gasped as I entered the bathroom and rushed passed me horrified. Her fear was of the large black man who was chasing me down in a pissed off rage.
“Oh hells to the mother-fuckin-no! You will get that skinny little white ass back out there to hear that man out!” Oh yeah, Stupor was mad.
“No, I mother-fuckin-won't!” I snapped. Stupor drilled that gaze of his into mine, and I cowered back until my back was against the hand dryer.
“Watch that tone of yours, Boo. I love you for reals, but I am not above smackin' your mouth for talkin’ to me like that when I am tryin’ to open your damn eyes!”
“This isn’t fair Stupor, and you know it!” I cried, and fell to my knees on the floor.
“Oh, hell no Boo, get up off this nasty floor.” Stupor said, and started pulling paper towels down and dampening them.
“I can’t.” I cried and I just couldn’t stop. I heard the swoosh of the door and looked up to see London and Bastian making their way in. Stupor was lifting me into his arms when my eyes fell on Bastian.
“Get out!” I snarled, my anger falling on him the heaviest.
“I can’t do that baby girl. I feel that anguish coming off you in waves. I know you think I betrayed you, but I promise I didn’t.” He held up his hand when I tried to interrupt. “No, Tavern. You have no fucking clue what he has been through to get here and tell you what he feels. He wants you to know his fears and his past, he wants a chance to talk, that’s it. You owe him that.”
London was wiping my mascara from under my eyes her hands shaking. “I’m sorry Tavern, but I’m with Bas on this.”
“Me too, Boo.”
“Why can’t you guys see that you betrayed me for him? AGAIN!” I yelled, but they all seemed unaffected. “I owe him nothing.”
Bastian charged me, causing a minor standoff between him and Stupor. He spoke over Stupors angry hiss. “You owe him everything! I know he hurt you, and it sucks, it does. But he saved your life that night at Inked, and every night thereafter. We've told you how bad your addiction was. Fuck, Tavern you were at Inked because you thought you were transplanted back into Vegas, and that Jezzi was inside. You were certifiable back then baby girl. Jezzi is long gone, but you got Preacher instead, and he scraped you off that floor and put you back together.”
My face fell and I was crying again, but this time it was because as 'come to Jesus' talks went, this one was an A-plus. “Let me get cleaned up, ok?”
Bastian sighed in relief and nodded before leaving. I said nothing, neither did London or Stupor, but I was scared I'd just made things worse.
“No Boo, he's here to stay.” Stupor said, and I realized I was so fried, I'd spoke out loud.
“You don’t know this, Tavern, and it's not, nor has it ever been, my place to tell you, but I just don’t fucking care anymore; he's in love with you. He has been, long before you left the mansion. I know one thing about Preacher that is as true as me standing here, Preacher loves like a desert loves the rain, and he loves you. He won’t stop, and he won’t move on. Please, for the love of God, just let him talk to you.”
I nod, but say nothing else. I'm working on auto pilot at the moment. After London finishes cleaning up my face, and Stupor gets the bathroom floor cleaned off my hands and knees, we all walk to the door and exit the bathroom. Back at the table I look around for Preacher, wanting to get this over with. But he wasn’t at the table. I took my seat, joined in the conversation, and avoided what had just happened.
My friends were good, as always, letting me avoid my big pink elephant. I had a feeling they wouldn’t do it forever, but I appreciated that they did tonight.
*
I felt the feather light touch of fingers against the nape of my neck and tried to suppress my shiver. That touch held too much of a reminder of his pale blue stare and sexy Irish lilt. I was at the bar with Leushus and Stupor getting drinks, and they shifted to move back to our table when he came up behind me.
"I am not falling for your touch this time.” Fuck that. I learned my lesson.
“You sure ‘bout that mo ghrá?”
“Preacher…” I groaned, annoyed.
“Good to see you too, Bird.” His tone was clipped,but not angry, nervous perhaps, and my mind began to wander.
“Is everything ok?” I had grown close to the other Custos in the house. And the fallen Arch. And the Werewolf…and even the Cherished… I could read them. Preacher, however, was a book in a foreign language. All I had was instinct with him, and instinct told me he was upset.
“No.” He ran his fingers through his hair. The brillia
nt curls on display for once not hidden beneath an old Mariners cap. No, he had dressed with purpose tonight. In faded modern blue jeans, and a tight fitted black t-shirt, he looked absolutely delicious. I couldn’t breathe with him this close. I was desperate to catch that scent that made me crazy for him. His response finally registered and I flinched, feeling awful for checking him out when he clearly had something to say to me.
Then it dawned on me why he was being so dark and moody.
“So help me, if you say I’m in danger, I will scream.”
“No, you’re not. And everyone is ok, I’m not ok.” He cupped the back of his neck and rubbed while looking around the bar for…something. “I’m not saying this right.” He paused and whistled for the bartender’s attention. “Two pints of the black stuff.”
When the bartender nodded and went back to flirting with the women at the end of the bar, I expected Preacher to wait his turn, but he whistled again, louder, and with a directness that had the whole bar staring. I wanted to hide under the table; his manner shocked me. Preacher was never this direct. I was kind of proud of him. He had always seemed a go with the flow type, it was nice to see him stand out.
“I meant what I said lad.” He leveled the stare and spoke firm. “Beers. Now.” He wasn’t going to repeat it, and I hoped the bartender did as he asked so that this dreaded conversation could start and finish quickly. The two beers were tapped and in front of us within one minute. Preacher said nothing as he dropped a twenty on the bar, scooped the mugs in one hand and grasped my elbow in the other. “We
need to talk, I can explain, but I need a little privacy, and a bleedin’ bar top isn’t fitting for this conversation.”
I followed as he spoke, because he had a good hold on my arm, but I was irritated that in the last three months he didn’t seem even a little affected by being apart from me. The song was nice, sure, but he seemed annoyed and mad that I didn’t just roll over and forgive him. He needed to work to bring me back. I'd felt left to the slaughter when I left. I was broken. The level of carelessness for my emotions when he knew how deeply I cared… well for lack of more eloquent words… fucking pissed me off royal.
“Clearly we should talk all paranormal in a bar. Great plan, Mac.” I used his true name as a blade against my own hurt. Knowing full well he hated that I used it at all.
He said nothing, and led me to a booth in the back where there were no patrons within twenty feet. He released my arm and guided me onto the seat, before setting down the beers and sliding in next to me. It didn’t go unnoticed that his back was facing the wall behind us so he now had full view of our surroundings. Whatever he was here about, made him nervous.
We sat side by side, our arms touching occasionally, and our legs rubbing together from the instant he sat down. I hadn’t touched him in months, and already I felt like warm butter from something so basic. It wasn’t fair dammit. He sings me a song, breaks me open in front of everyone, and then acts like I’m the nuisance.
“So spill it. What do you need to say that's so important we needed to stealthily make our way to the back of the bar to keep from being heard......" My words were cut off abruptly when he slipped his hand to my neck and pulled my mouth to his.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Preacher
I had to kiss her smart mouth before I flipped her to her knees and fucked her right there just to prove my point. How I'd become so dominant, had everything to do with the pixie to my right. I figured that clearing the air would be good, that what I had to tell her would matter, and make sense. Then there she is before me, like magic, and I can’t catch up.
Feeling her petal soft lips on mine and tasting her mouth with the same conviction as I taste a vein, I wanted to cry out at how damning she was to my control. I expected her to cave to me, to kiss me back, but she was frozen stiff, and not yielding to my touch. Fear settled as quickly as the lust had, and I pulled back to see her eyes so I would know what she was feeling.
She looked at me, a mixture of revulsion and anger, but even more evident, was the pain. “I’m sorry......." I started, and was stopped by the slap heard round the world; the one she planted on my face. This was not going the way Cookie said it would.
“How dare you?” She choked back a sob before the words were fully out of her mouth. “I think I’ve suffered enough at your rejection, but you felt the need to seek me out and remind me of what I cannot have?”
Tears welled in her eyes, and I hated myself in a way I never had before, and I owned the fucking rights to self loathing. Her indigo eyes shimmered like diamonds, as she rapidly blinked trying to keep the tears from falling. She was so beautiful, my little Bird.
“Please listen to me, Tavern. I’m not seekin’ ya out to hurt ya. The opposite really.”
“Then why kiss me, Preacher? Know what? Don’t answer that. Just move and let me out. I have no desire to hear what you have to say.” She tried to gather her things to move from the booth, but I was no fool. Though I'd planned this attack quickly, she was on the inside for a reason.
“No, I don’t think I’ll let you leave just yet.” I spoke low, so only she would hear. I tried to get her to face me, but she was desperately trying to stay strong. She hated knowing that I knew she was hurting. My presence was physically hurting her, emotionally breaking her, and I wanted to fix that pain. I also wanted to punch me in the face.
Her breath hitched and she whimpered. “Haven’t you hurt me enough? Fuck, Mac, it’s not like you've been gone a year. I’m sorry, but three months wasn’t enough for me to get over you, so I’m sorry if this is killing me right now!” She tried to get up again, and this time I grasped her elbow harder and jerked her back to sitting.
I spoke into her ear low enough only she could hear me, my hand still on her arm, I loosened my grip to keep from hurting her. “Stop calling me Mac, and listen to me, Bird. I know I don’t deserve your understanding. I know I hurt you, but so help me, I have something to say, and I'll make sure you hear me out one way or the other. You decide how difficult you truly want to be.”
“Whatever you have to say to me Mac, won’t change anything. I know you’re sorry. I know you feel guilty and responsible for my pain, but there is nothing you can do to make it go away. Kissing me before only made it worse. So if this is some twisted 'friends with benefits' speech you've cocked up, I’ll make it quick. I decline. However fantastic we are in bed, I am not a masochist.”
“I don’t harbor the hope of being friends with you, regardless the benefits, Tavern.” I knew it once the words were out how God awful it sounded. I rushed forward before the last sentence could filter through her mind. “I want so much more.” I spoke quietly, suddenly terrified that I was far too late.
She looked like she was about to rip me another one, when she snapped her head up to look at me, to see if what she heard was the truth. I could only nod at the question in her eyes.
“I am so miserable without you. I have fallen so much deeper, so much darker, in the nights since you left. I miss you, Bird.” I had never been a man of tender words, and I hoped I was aces in this plea.
*
Tavern
“What about empty promises, and being broken and dead inside? You left me with nothing but cryptic reasons about how there was nothing left to give me. What changed in the three months we've been apart?” I was struggling to breathe. On one hand I was elated that this man, this vampire who was far more good than bad, was here, finally seeing that I was right. The other side enraged. Enraged because I had cried and mourned the loss of my heart to him. I had been desperately trying to put myself back together and move on, even though my life would never be the same, had I met him or not. I needed answers.
“I never lied to you, Tavern. I said those things because I believed them. I had no idea how deeply I felt for you, until I was forced to lose you. I know that it's cliché, not knowing what you've got till it’s gone and all that rot, but there it is anyway. It’s far more than your body that I
miss, Bird. It’s you I can’t be without. I thought I was lonely before you came along, but I had only touched the surface of lonely. When you left I sank back into a despair I had only felt one other time in my long life.”
“Why let me go then?” I wanted to know what he was referring to, but I wanted my answers first.
He seemed to choose his words very carefully. “I have buried everything I cared for, everything that I loved. I have walked this earth for years keeping myself at a distance from anything that could hurt me that deep again. I could not bear to watch you love me, knowing you will die one day, whether it be me
turning you Custos, or the good Lord bringing you home in your ripe 90’s, or God forbid the Cado or anyone else getting to you through me. Either way, it isn’t something I could watch. I love, but not like I did in the past. I wasn’t prepared for you.”
I was so coming back to that part about turning me…say what now?
“You think I had it any better? I was going to be a writer, Mac. I was established and happy and thrilled about life, when mine was robbed from me. I am now a barely functioning recovering junky, desperate for a drug that will make me a cheap whore, desperate for an orgasm anyway I can get one. I didn’t choose this life either, but here it is all the same. I still wanted you, knowing I wasn’t good enough, knowing I was tainted. I wanted you regardless if I was worthy or not. Call me selfish, but I would have done anything to have my love returned. Even a fraction of it would have been nice.”
“I’ll return it now, Tavern.” I wanted to believe him. He sounded desperate and true. “I know I'm joining the game late, but if there is even a chance, I’ll take it. I cannot keep going night by night miserable without you. I need your kiss, to feel you shudder underneath me, to hear you moan. I accept you for everything you are, and still I don’t feel worthy. I am not worthy, but damn me to hell, I want you to choose me anyway. I know I don’t deserve you.”