Metal Urge

by Wilbourn, E. D.

  “Cheers,” he said out loud, and drank a double shot of Jack, the best whiskey America had to offer. He was willing to bet that the Americans would prove a loyal and profitable audience for the two English metal bands, and he couldn’t wait to tour there. Who cared which band opened or closed the gigs? What mattered is that they all made a bundle of cash and had plenty of lovely young females to entertain them during the long, grueling days and nights of touring.

  He flopped back on the couch and opened the latest issue of Playboy magazine. Man, those Yanks bred the finest and foxiest women on the planet! He opened the centerfold and grinned. Who wouldn’t want a piece of that? “God bless America!” Nick laughed, saluting the naked lass with his bottle of Tennessee’s finest sour mash whiskey.

  Chapter 15

  “I won’t be home until late,” Deanna called out to her sleepy-eyed friend.

  Maggi was exhausted from her emotional train journey back to London and hadn’t yet caught up on her sleep. She yawned and stretched while Deanna explained that she had to study for finals. One of her classmates had offered to help her study---two heads being better than one when it came to cramming for a long, two-part test. They would probably be up most of the night so she might not come home until the following morning. She rushed out with a backward wave while Maggi stumbled back to her bedroom to try and get a few more hours of sleep.

  Not long after Deanna left the flat the phone rang, and Nigel asked if he could come over to talk. Maggi was bone tired but she said yes. He asked if Deanna was there, and Maggi assured him that she was gone for the day so it was the perfect time for them to talk. After hanging up the phone, he let out a sigh of relief. It seemed luck was on his side now that he had a chance to talk to Maggi without worrying about Deanna or his burgeoning guilt over his one night stand with her sexy girlfriend.

  Sinking to the couch, Maggi relaxed against the overstuffed pillows. Why bother to get dressed? She could care less what she looked like or what Nigel might have to say. The heavy weight of depression was pressing down on her, and she was beginning to regret breaking it off so hastily with Trevor. It would be so easy to call and beg his forgiveness and plead with him to come back to her. Trevor could be a monster, but she truly believed his behavior was a cry for help from a lost little boy damaged beyond repair by his parent’s cruel indifference and refusal to love and nurture him. Trevor’s emotional pain and fear of abandonment held him firmly in its vice-like grip forcing him to lash out at those he believed would betray him. Although she had tried to save him with her love and devotion, it was never enough. What if he was capable of suicide now that she had left him? She couldn’t bear to lose him, especially by his own hand. The thought of Trevor killing himself scared her so badly that she was picking up the phone to dial his number when she heard Nigel’s motorbike pull up in front of the flat. She wiped the tears away and met him at the front door.

  He asked what had happened as soon as he saw her teary face. Unable to answer him, Maggi threw herself into his arms and wept against his chest. He stroked her hair, murmuring assurances that everything would be alright. Maggi’s out of control emotion drove her to kiss Nigel, who eagerly responded to her probing tongue and skillful lips. Soon the two of them were in her bedroom removing each other’s clothes in a mad haste to experience their naked flesh coming together once again. In between bouts of epic sexual indulgence, Nigel refused to think about what was going on between them or why. He had vowed it would never happen again after leaving Maggi at the B&B on that strange, frosty morning yet here he was in her bed, a more than willing partner in their energetic exploits, easily blocking out any thoughts of Deanna or why he had come to the flat in the first place. Their desire was insatiable and they pleasured each other with animalistic abandon, unable to hear the front door opening over their strangled cries and moans of gratification.

  Deanna stood in the front doorway stunned by the sounds emanating from the flat. She shut the door and looked dazedly at Nigel’s bike parked at the curb. She noticed the Harley as the bus passed by Woodsome Road and thought Nigel had come by to patch things up between them. She practically ran from the bus stop wanting nothing more than to throw herself into his open arms, hear him say that he loved her, and admit that everything he said on the phone that horrible night had been a mistake. Every transgression would be forgiven and forgotten with the first precious kiss they had shared in months.

  Feeling lightheaded, she steadied herself by clinging to the metal posts that ran along the steps leading from the flat. Her legs felt so shaky she feared she might not be able to walk much less make it all the way back to the bus stop. Nausea welled up inside her tender stomach forcing her to lean over a neighboring flat’s rose bushes and vomit. She scratched her face and hands on the thorns as she struggled to remain upright, but she went down hard on one knee and cried out causing a passerby to run to her aid. He helped her up and asked if she needed a doctor after observing the bleeding scratches on her face. She struggled out of his grasp and stumbled away, hot tears making it almost impossible to see where she was going. The man followed close behind afraid that she might lurch into the road. Deanna finally reached the safety of the bus stop and sat down on the bench, her breathing ragged. The knee of her pants leg was torn and bloody, and she giggled at how silly it looked. The Good Samaritan flagged down a passing bobby, directing him to the injured girl, wondering if the poor thing was drunk or on drugs.

  The bobby approached Deanna and asked if he could be of assistance. She looked at the kind-faced policeman for a moment before bursting into loud, shuddering sobs. He sat down beside her and offered her a crisp, clean handkerchief which she took gratefully. As she wiped her eyes and nose, her sobs receded into little gulps and sniffles. Wisely, the bobby didn’t say a thing. He sat there silently like a pillar of emotional strength, his unruffled demeanor helping to calm her. When she felt composed enough to speak, she thanked him and assured him that she was alright.

  Watching her injured face closely, he asked where she was going and how she planned to get there. Deanna looked away uncomfortably and told him she was going home by bus. She compounded the lie when she said she was coming down with the flu and had to leave school early. He glanced at her book bag, his gaze traveling down to her bloody knee and nodded, aware that she was lying. Unsure that the girl was well enough to travel on her own, he waited with her until the next bus arrived and saw her safely on board, asking the bus driver to keep his eye on the young lady. He used a pass to pay Deanna’s fare, and she thanked him again for his kindness. She had no idea where she was going, but at the moment she really didn’t care. Her cuts were throbbing, and she had a sickening headache, reminding her that she needed something to eat. She clutched her belly and silently prayed her baby was alright after her fall on the rough dirt by the rose bushes.

  It was no surprise that her ears still rang with the sounds of Nigel and Maggi fucking like animals in the small flat. Deanna wanted to scream until her throat was raw and bleeding, but she took a deep breath and focused on her child as she searched for a place to eat from the bus window.

  ****

  It seemed like hours and hours had slipped away as Deanna stood across the street from Nigel’s flat, waiting for him to return from his afternoon adventure with her traitorous bitch of a so-called friend, Maggi Atwell. Though she had eaten, her body shook with pain and fatigue. In the back of her mind a little voice urged her to go home and get some rest---forget about Nigel---forget about everything, but she ignored it choosing instead to focus all of her hurt, humiliation, and rage on Nigel’s flat. She breathed deeply summoning the strength she would need to confront the sorry bastard whose number one goal in life was to get his rocks off, not caring who he hurt in the process. She hated herself for loving the selfish prick. She should have known better---she should have paid attention to all of the warning signs. Her heart beat faster when she heard the roar of the powerful Harley Davidson engine drawing near. She couldn’t hel
p but remember how her soul filled with joy in anticipation of being in Nigel’s arms, tasting his sweet lips whenever she heard the roar of the bike’s engine.

  The memory turned sour in her mouth, and she wiped her fingers across her lips to get rid of its bitter aftertaste.

  Nigel turned into a small alleyway and parked his bike next to a rundown garage behind his flat. He entered the flat through the back door, pulling off his leather gloves, stuffing them into a zippered pocket on the side of his jacket. He strolled into the kitchen, pulled a cold lager from the refrigerator, popped the cap on the edge of the countertop, and took a long, refreshing drink of the pungent brew. He planned to finish the lager and then take a hot shower to wash away the aftermath of his unexpected romp with Maggi. He called out to check if any of his mates were home and was thankful he got no response, especially from Thom. He shrugged off his heavy leather jacket and was stripping off his T-shirt when he heard a loud knock at the front door. Nigel ignored the insistent thuds and headed towards the bathroom. The front door knob jiggled and he wondered if someone was trying to break in. “Who’s there?” he shouted.

  “Deanna.”

  What was she doing here? Wasn't she supposed to be studying with a school mate? “Just a minute,” he called out to her and slipped his T-shirt back on. He opened the door and looked at Deanna’s pale face marked by several livid scratches covered with dried blood. “What happened to you?” When she didn’t answer he hesitated, a bit unnerved by her appearance. “Deanna?”

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  “Yeah, sure,” he said and moved aside to let her enter. He closed the door and watched her stop in the middle of the room with her back to him, saying nothing. Nigel approached her, and she turned abruptly to face him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. He noticed her torn jeans and blood-crusted knee and a knot formed in his stomach. “Did someone hurt you?” he asked, reaching out to take her hand.

  “I heard you, Nigel. I heard you and Maggi.” The tears spilled over her lower lids and down her cheeks.

  “What do you mean you heard us? What the hell are you on about?” Nigel stepped back when she moved closer to him, her eyes blazing.

  “Don’t you lie to me, you bastard!” Deanna screamed. She lunged at him, fists pounding his face and chest.

  Nigel yelped with pain as her fist slammed into his nose. He felt a warm, sticky liquid drip onto his lip and he licked it, tasting blood. “Bloody hell, Deanna!” he yelled.

  She launched another attack but he fended her off by grabbing her wrists and forcing her to her knees. She looked up at him, her features twisted with pain.

  “Why did you sleep with Maggi? You could have had anyone. Why her, Nigel? Why?”

  He let go of one her wrists to wipe the dripping blood from his nostrils and Deanna grabbed his T-shirt, twisting it until the fabric ripped at the neck seam.

  “What the fuck do you want from me?” He shouted, trying to pull her hand away from his ruined shirt.

  Deanna tried to get to her feet, but he wrestled her back down, afraid she would try to attack him again. She slumped against his legs, sobbing. “I gave you everything I had…everything that made me who I was. There's nothing left. I’m empty inside because you took it all, and I want it back.” Struggling to lift her head she pleaded with him in a small, shaky voice, “Give me back my life…please, Nigel. Please.”

  Numb with shock, he tried to pull Deanna to her feet but she was as limp as a rag doll, and he panicked when he realized that she had fainted. Calling her name, he shook her arms trying to get a response as he struggled to lift her up from the floor.

  The door banged open and Thom ran inside shouting, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing!” He pried Nigel’s hands from Deanna’s arms and grabbed her before she toppled over and hit her head on the floor. Thom tried to pick her up but she was dead weight and he couldn’t manage her alone.

  Wiping his shaking hands on his jeans, Nigel reached down to help, but Thom clutched his arm and roughly shoved him back. “Don’t you bloody touch her,” he snarled.

  Nigel threw his hands up in the air and then grabbed his torn T-shirt, wiping his bloody nose with it. “I didn’t hurt her, Thom. You know I’d never do that.”

  Thom cradled her limp body patting her face with the hem of his shirt. “What happened to her face, Nigel? Are you gonna claim she did this to herself?”

  “I don’t know what happened,” Nigel said, his voice muffled as he tried to staunch the flow of blood with his T-shirt. “I asked her about it but she refused to answer.”

  “Look at her knee,” Thom said, frowning at Nigel. “It's scraped and swollen.”

  “It was like that when she...when she came here,” Nigel said weakly.

  Thom shook his head in disbelief. “You don't think forcing her to her knees had anything to do with it?”

  “Come off it, Thom. You bloody well know I'd never hurt a woman, especially Deanna.”

  “You had her on her knees, Nigel. Of course you were hurting her, you bloody idiot!” Thom looked up at Nigel and scowled. “So, how do you explain the disgusting little scene I walked in on, eh?”

  “She went mental. I had to stop her...” Nigel rubbed the back of his neck and paced around the room. “She started screaming and hitting me...she gave me a bloody nose and tore my shirt.” He pulled nervously at the ruined fabric and wiped his leaking nose with the back of his hand.

  Nigel could see he was getting nowhere with Thom whose rage-filled eyes bored into him with such blazing intensity it almost burned his skin. “Alright, mate! Fuck!” Nigel scowled. “I went to have a chat with Maggi this afternoon.” He shook his head not keen to continue his story. “Deanna was supposed to be studying at a school mate’s, and I needed to talk to Maggi about what happened between us the night I took her gear to the B & B.”

  “So you slept with Maggi,” Thom said shaking his head in disgust. “We all reckoned you did.” Stroking Deanna’s face gently, he looked up at Nigel and frowned. “You didn't get enough the first time so you went back for more, yeah? God, Nigel...you're so bloody predictable. It’s too bad Deanna couldn’t see you for what you really are.”

  “That’s not fair, Thom! Me and Maggi were just gonna talk...Deanna came home early...shit!” Nigel toyed with the torn neck of his T-shirt, clearly distressed. “I never imagined she'd hear us. We didn't do it to hurt her, it was just...I dunno...stupid, mindless lust,” he shrugged helplessly. “I'd be lying if I said I didn't care about Deanna. I do, but she went completely mad and I had to…”

  “I don’t want to hear any more of your bloody rubbish,” Thom cut him off with wave of his hand. He caressed Deanna’s face, saying her name softly until she opened her eyes and looked at him. “D’you think you can stand up?” Thom asked and she nodded. He helped her to her feet and put his arm around her waist. “D’you want me to take you home?”

  “No. I don’t have a home anymore.”

  Thom glared at Nigel and guided Deanna to the door. Nigel followed them pleading with Deanna to forgive him but she wouldn’t look at him.

  “Where are you taking her?”

  “That's none of your fucking business,” Thom snapped and led her out of the door to a small Mini parked in front of the flat. He helped her into the tiny backseat and told her he’d be back in a few minutes. She curled up on the seat and closed her eyes.

  Feeling helpless, Nigel stood in the doorway rubbing his face, sick with remorse.

  Thom walked up to him and pointed a finger in his face. “You stay away from her, you hear?” Nigel started to protest but Thom grabbed his blood-stained T-shirt and pulled him close. “You’re a right bastard, you are, and if you come near her again you'll regret it. Thom pushed Nigel away in disgust and went back to the car, gunning the engine, and driving away in a cloud of burnt rubber.

  “You still blame me for Chloe, don’t you Thom?” Nigel shouted at the retreating car. “And you always will,” he murmured s
adly as he stepped into the hollow silence of the empty flat.

  Chapter 16

  Thom had no idea where to take Deanna, and although he had driven for over an hour, he couldn’t find a suitable hotel or bed and breakfast for her to stay at. He wasn’t really familiar with London and had gotten lost, ending up in a rather dodgy area dominated by high-rise council housing and boarded-up shops.

  Deanna squeezed his shoulder and asked him to stop the car. He didn’t want to stop in this neighborhood, but she was moaning and crying that she was going to be sick. He pulled over and she retched into the gutter a couple of times before collapsing against the backseat. She was sweating; her blonde curls plastered to her face and neck. “Something's wrong,” she groaned.

  Thom told her to hang on while he tried to find a phone box to call 999. She begged him to find a place where she could use the bathroom first. Not wanting to upset her more than she already was, he reluctantly drove around until he spotted a grotty hotel with a flashing vacancy sign. It wasn’t the sort of establishment that catered to decent people---it charged by the hour---but Deanna was bent over and barely able to stand so Thom paid for an hour and somehow got her up the dim stairway to their room. He led her to the toilet and gasped when he saw the condition of the smelly, closet-sized room. She pushed him away and shut the door. Looking around with disgust, he decided he didn’t want to sit on the grimy bedspread so he leaned against the moldy wallpaper hoping she wouldn’t take long. They needed to get out of this dirty place to a proper hospital where she could be examined thoroughly.