Splinters

by M R Field

  I grimace as Trin begins to laugh—loud.

  “What?” Trinity laughs, slamming her hand against the table. “An STI? Don’t think he wants any of those,” she snorts.

  “Fuck off,” Nadine snaps, her fake voice now turned into cold steel. Her gum snaps as she folds her arms across her chest staring at Trin.

  “Don’t need anything. Didn’t ask for anything,” Ty adds in, his eyes now firmly pointed towards the band and one girl in particular.

  “I hope the bar has some ice, because you’re going to need it to ice that burn,” Trin teases, snorting as she lifts up her cocktail. Nadine turns sharply and stomps off, leaving Trin to laugh even louder. How the rest of the club doesn’t turn around too it amazes me. “I can’t believe …” she snorts again. “That you went there, Ty.”

  “What?” He looks over to her, his brows crinkling in confusion.

  “Nadine.” She gestures with her finger, out into the club. His brown creases in contemplation, and he flinches as recognition shows on his face.

  “She tried to give me a Happy New Year.”

  Trin’s nose wrinkles as she interjects, “Probably explains why she chews gum all the time. It’s to cover her breath that smells like coc—”

  “Evening,” Leon pipes up, startled at Trin’s outburst. He taps my shoulder and gestures with his chin for me to stand and follow him. I leave my Coke on the table and follow him to the back of the booths.

  “All good?” I ask, watching his face. His eyes are hard as he surveys the crowd.

  “So far, but we’ve had a few shady people here tonight. One has been hanging by the entrance, watching the band, while another different weirdo asked about Hazel.”

  My shoulders stiffen and I automatically start scanning the room.

  “I moved you here, so that dude wouldn’t see you,” Leon adds. “I spoke to Hazel and she told me not to tell you, as she thought it was her ex. She didn’t want you to blow a gasket. He is seated at table seven and she hasn’t seen him yet.”

  “What the fuck is he doing here?” I growl, my neck craning to try and spot him.

  “Who knows, I didn’t want to cause a scene by booting him out. But if the fucker’s thinking he has a chance, he’ll see tonight that he doesn’t. Your girl only has eyes for you.”

  Still, it isn’t good enough. I don’t want him here, in our space during our time. Just as I’m about to tell Leon to get rid of him, the deep chords of the piano begin to play and I look up to find Hazel seated at the piano with a cheeky smile on her face, facing the audience. The melody sounds familiar, as do the words when she begins to sing the lyrics. Her eyes scan the room as the beat of the drums and loud guitars join her lively movements. The words to, “I’m Not a Whore” by Sheppard come tumbling out of her lips, and she moves her shoulders and hips to the rhythm. Her face enjoying every single stinging lyric that digs in about her ex, while she talks about moving on from him. Trice stands closer to Maxi, with a tambourine in her hand, wiggling her hips to the beat. Her grin tells me that this song is going to be dedicated to a certain dickhead in the crowd.

  I watch as Hazel’s hands glide merrily across the keys, her slender fingers flicking the keys down in jest, her beautiful voice booming through the club. My foot begins to tap in tune with the beat and as the song continues, I follow her eyes when they narrow to one spot in the audience. I look to Leon to get his attention and gesture to the direction of her gaze.

  “Yep,” he answers, “that’s him, alright.”

  I narrow my gaze in Jerry’s direction, recognising his shoulders. I don’t stare for very long as Hazel’s voice pulls me like a magnetic force back to her. Her gaze pointedly stares at him, and her words pack a fierce punch. She is not the whore that he called her. She is part of me, my life and is mine. Take that, motherfucker.

  As the final beats to the song draw to a close, her playful eyes turn hard as she stares at him and shakes her head in disgust. She mouths loser and stands to walk back to the front of the stage, where Trice is now meeting her.

  I raise my hands, cupping my mouth and yell. “Yeah!”

  I clap my hands alongside the audience in appreciation, hollering a few more times to send the message home that I am here and that I will continue to be here.

  “That’s my girl!” I shout, obnoxiously adding a whistle to the mix.

  The audience tapers down, and the lights dim for a moment and when they return, Jules is seated on the Cajon drum. Her hands begin to move rhythmically across the face of it as Maxi joins her. My pride for Hazel swells in my chest as I curl my fist to pump it with Leon’s. That’s my girl.

  They continue their set until the end of their final act. Despite Hazel’s eyes giving him a stand-off before, since then, her gaze sought out mine. Like an anchor, I’m drawn to her as much as she is drawn to me. With each beat of the drum or riff of guitar, I’m there with her.

  As the final song concludes, her hand rubs against her abdomen for a moment and a secretive smile forms across her face. I smile, knowing that our baby’s in there and in this moment, it’s just us. Jerry can’t interfere with that. Just by looking at us, a blind monkey would know that there would be no contest.

  I wave to the guys and girls and start walking to the dressing room to see Hazel. My blood is pumping, and I want nothing more than to fold her into my arms and kiss the living shit out of her. Considering that Trice will be in there, I can’t do much else. Just as I’m heading over there, Nadine steps abruptly in front of me, blocking my path.

  “Robbie,” she purrs. “It’s a little chaotic by the bar. Do you think you could give Deacon a hand?”

  I flinch and turn my eyes towards Deacon. Sure, there are people waiting for drinks, but he looks like he can handle it.

  “I’ll be over there soon,” I say as I step to the side.“Off to see my lady.”

  She steps to the side to block me again, and I can’t help by growl.

  “But the bar …” she trails.

  “Can fucking wait,” I snap, stepping around her and heading to the dressing room. I notice a figure standing at the end of the corridor and my pace quickens, strolling past her door to the back where a slight alcove is.

  “I can’t even take a fuckin’ smoke? My brothers would rip you in half,” Jules sneers.

  “Why the fuck would they even want to?”

  I stop nearby, and see Jules against the wall with a very pissed off Aidan standing near her. Man, he can move pretty freakin’ fast.

  “You’re standing too close. I’m not interested in you.”

  “I’m not interested. I don’t feel like sampling ‘uptight bitch’ tonight,” he bites back.

  “Too bad. I don’t want to sample some limp dick tight wearer either.”

  “Well if you saw me in my tights, you’d know that limp is a pretty far away assumption.”

  “Whatever.” She rolls her eyes.

  “You still can’t own up to being wrong, can you?” he barks. “Roll those eyes again, and I’ll …”

  “I apologised.”

  “‘My bad’ is a fucking shit apology.”

  “I don’t have to answer to you. I’m not scared of you.”

  “As if I want you to be scared of me. I know you’re not.” His hands move to her hips and her body moves closer to him. “You’re turned on. I. Can. Smell. It.”

  And, that is my cue to leave these guys the fuck alone.

  “Better to shut up and have people think you’re an idiot than to open your mouth and remove all doubt,” I hear Jules snap as I head back towards the toilets.

  The beers I’ve had, catch up with me and I veer into the toilets. I rest my hand up against the wall and as I’m finishing, I can’t help but hear the familiar sounds of my sister crying out … in the handicapped toilet next door.

  “Fucking hell. Everyone is at it tonight.” I cringe, zipping up my fly before speed-washing my hands. I’m not going to take my woman in a toilet. Not when I have a perfectly strong de
sk to fuck on.

  I push through the door and walk across the corridor to the dressing rooms, eager to get my restless hands on Hazel. Both the overhead lights, and the sliver that passes through the gap of the slightly ajar dressing room door faintly light the darkened corridor.

  My steps falter for a moment, as an angry voice is heard on the other side of the door, followed by a “NO!” from Hazel.

  My pulse quickens as my heavy feet thunder across the floor, my hand raises and slams the door in a ferocious crunch as the door sways open and slams into the adjacent wall.

  The crash halts all noise in the room. I stop, momentarily perplexed, as my worst fucking nightmare stands before me. Hazel is pressed against the vanity, one hand pressed against her chest, the other in mid air, holding herself up from falling. Jerry stands back from her, his eyes looking down at his wristwatch and then back at her.

  “It’s not what it looks like. My watch caught against her …” His voice tries to reason with her, his eyes darting over to me for a second. He looks me up and down, and his apologetic tone turns cold as his mouth pulls into a tight line.

  “Don’t touch me,” Hazel hisses. His eyes turn back and narrow as he points to her.

  “I can touch what’s mine, petal. If you stopped fighting this, you’d realise that. Didn’t you read those messages from your mother? Surely you’re smart enough to realise that we are meant to be.”

  My blood thickens as a raging storm begins to unfurl within me. I don’t see her wiping the blood he caused from her lip—all I see is how close he came to really hurting her and our baby. His hands touched her and tried to be closer to her. I don’t stop to tell him to leave. He hurt her. She’s bleeding. All I feel is the urge to make that fucker bleed out.

  I grab him by the scruff of his collar and pull him back. His arms fly forward as he is pulled down. My other fist launches forward and connects with his face. Blood splatters across his nose, as the bones crunch underneath my fist. I continue to pull him down until his back is thrown against the floor and I charge down at him.

  “You fucking touch what is mine?” I roar, and jam my fist into his face again. His arms reach up to block the blows, but I kick his abdomen, causing his legs to curl up. “When a woman says no, it means no, fuckhead. It’s not an invitation to fly over here.” I punch his stomach again. “It’s not an invitation to keep harassing her.” I lean forward until my eyes glare into his swollen bloodshot ones. “It isn’t an invitation to fucking stalk her. I don’t give two fucks what bullshit you spun her parents. You are fucking going to leave her alone.”

  The pain that tears up my knuckles is no match for what I plan to continue doing to this fucker. I clench and unclench my fists, the burn circles under my skin. I pant, my chest heaving with every angry breath that shudders from me. All I can hear are the groans from him and my heartbeat. Make him burn and suffer. I pull my fist back, but a strong grip curls into my elbow, startling me.

  I flinch hearing Alex’s voice close to my ear. “Easy, dude. You’ve made your point. He won’t be able to walk if you keep going. Don’t take it further.”

  “I don’t care if he ever walks,” I growl, watching the tangled mess of blood and limbs flail in agony on the floor. Not enough.

  “No, Robbie.” Alex’s grip tightens against me. “You will. Don’t do it, man. Come over here. Hazel needs you.”

  Just like that, my muscles contract, and I instantly turn to Hazel. Her tear-stricken face stares back at me as I move slowly towards her, assessing her reaction.

  “Robbie.” She bites her lower lip. “It’s my … fault,” she stammers. “I teased him on stage and …”

  I shake my head and gently grab her shaking arms and draw her into my chest. She trembles against me as I slide my arm up and down her back, coaxing her to calm down.

  “No, Farfalla,” I soothe. “None of this is your fault. Don’t be scared of me, okay?”

  She nods as she sniffs and tilts her head back to look at me. My arms clench around her. Close up I can see a cut across her bottom lip.

  “He fucking hit you?” I growl.

  “No.” She shakes her head quickly. “He tried to kiss me and I moved my head and somehow his watch caught across my lip.”

  “He was touching you and he tried to fucking kiss you?” I tense, turning to look at the fucker. Jerry now sits against the wall, his arms folded across his stomach as Alex stands by him, his arms folded in his ‘don’t fuck me off’ stance, keeping Trice behind him. Hazel’s hands move up across my shoulders and onto my neck.

  “Look at me,” she coaxes, her fingers massaging into my skin. I turn and see her eyes pleading with me to calm down. “You stopped him from trying anything more. It’s done.”

  “No, not yet. He needs to leave the country.” I turn back and look at him. He attempts to stare back, but his right eye already has closed over.

  “You can have her.” His voice cracks, a hiss leaving his lips as he clutches his side. “I could never have a whore as a wife.”

  “Watch it,” Alex growls, kicking the side of his leg. He winces as his eyes dart to Hazel.

  “Can’t believe I wasted all this time away from my understudy thinking you were the one.” His other hand covers his nose as a thin line of blood flows down his chin.

  “You.” I point as I turn to face him. “I’ve had a gut full of your antics.” I reach into my pocket and retrieve my phone. “I’m calling the cops. Sick of your stalking antics. You’ll be on a plane tomorrow after they’re done with you. You will never contact Hazel. I don’t give a fuck what fairy-tale ideas are in your head. You are a memory.”

  “A shitty one at that,” Hazel adds, curling into my side.

  “You think you’re going to last out there on stage?” he taunts. “Dressed like a stripper? With a baby bulge? Classy effort, that. You have certainly proven yourself. Your family won’t ever want you again. You’ll be dead to them. How does it feel to know that by being with him you have ruined your life?” His sarcasm cuts through the room like a hot blade. “One simple appointment and that abomination”—his eyes stare mercilessly at Hazel’s stomach—“can be taken care of.”

  “I suggest you shut your fuckin’ mouth,” I snap, as Hazel’s hand clutch onto mine.

  “Unmarried and pregnant with a bastard spawn,” he taunts. I growl as go to step closer but Alex holds his hand up.

  “Don’t do it; he’s doing it on purpose,” Alex warns.

  Hazel squeezes my hand twice and my eyes turn to face hers. She nods to me and then says, “It’s my life. I gave up wanting my family to be better a long time ago. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I’m in love and I am loved. Now, I’m making a new family, and I will be on that stage for as long as I see fit. In the meantime …” She unclasps my hand, taking my phone and swiping her finger across the screen to activate it. Her eyes meet mine briefly as I nod at her. Hazel taps out the emergency number. “I can’t believe I didn’t do this earlier.”

  She presses a button on her screen and lifts the phone to her ear. “Yes, hello police? I’d like to report an incident please.” Her eyes lift to Jerry, who by now sits very still. His hand continues to cover his nose as his non-swollen eye stares at Hazel. “Yes, my name is Hazel Winters,” as she proceeds to talk to them on the phone, I wrap my arm around her shoulder and draw her close. I’m so proud of her right now. “Yes, that’s the right address. He’s still here … okay, thank you. See you soon.” Her eyes light up as she presses the end button and brings her phone down to rest at her side.

  “Happy now, Princess? Did you think about when they get here and they see my face?” Jerry tries to lean forward, but Alex uses his foot to pin his shoulder to the wall. With an ‘oomph’ he begrudgingly sits still. I hold onto Hazel and glare at him. “I have evidence on me for his assault. You didn’t think that through did you?”

  “Keep that up, dickhead. Let’s see who’ll be a princess when their dick is shoved up their arse. Now, don’t fuckin�
� move.” Alex taunts. Trice snickers, crossing her arms.

  “Like I give a fuck,” I growl. “I’d kick the shit out of you again if I had to. They can charge me, but they’ll deport you, you stupid fuck.” We glare at each other until Hazel’s soft voice pierces the tense air between us.

  “Why aren’t you in the UK at the academy?” Hazel asks. “You should be in production.”

  “I don’t care for it anymore, now that you’re not there.” He stares over Alex’s shoulder at her, but she moves closer into me. “You’re the star that’s missing.”

  “I never was. I found my real stage.” I kiss her temple and watch Jerry’s jaw tighten.

  “Twinkle, twinkle,” I whisper into her hair. Yes, once the cops are done with him, that fucker is going home. “You’re my little star.” I chuckle until I feel Hazel tense under my arm. She leans forward, clutching her stomach, and with her agonising gasp, I feel my world tipped on its axis.

  “Someone call an ambulance,” my panic-stricken voice shouts. “Pass me that chair!” I point to the chair and Trice rushes to retrieve it for me. I don’t notice any other movement in the room, despite the gasps coming from Hazel as she grimaces.

  “Oh no,” she cries. “It hurts.” Her breaths gush out in an unbearable rush. “I’m cramping badly.” She sinks down into the chair, her other arm clinging to my shirt as she bites her lip, breathing through the pain. “Not the baby. Please, please no,” she begs. Tears fall down her cheeks as I watch on hopelessly. I close my eyes praying for the ambulance to arrive.

  Soon, we hear the blaring sounds of both the ambulance and police approaching, and my heart continues to drum against my chest.

  “They’re coming, Farfalla,” I whisper into her hair as she sits in front of me. Please don’t take our baby. We are just getting started.

  I force my trembling hands to be still as I stroke her face, trying to be strong for her as I watch her crumble. No one enters our space. No one comes closer. As I hold onto her cheeks, A gritty chuckle rumbles behind us as he says,