Metal Urge

by Wilbourn, E. D.

  Deanna looked away, embarrassed by his attempt to make her feel better. She felt awkward, and couldn't seem to find the right words to say.

  “It seems your pills have kicked in.” He started to get up, but Deanna grabbed his arm, her expression serious.

  “You'll never know how much I appreciate what you've done for me, Thom. I don't even have the words to express my gratitude. You’re my guardian angel...I truly mean that. If it weren't for you, I'd probably be out on the street.” She sniffed, trying to keep from bursting into tears.

  He desperately wanted to kiss her soft, pink lips---kiss all of the hurt, betrayal, and pain away. He imagined pulling her into his arms, feeling her heartbeat strong against his chest as she melted into the warmth of his embrace. Looking into her beautiful green eyes, he felt like he was floating, unreal. She had no idea the effect she had on him. It was profound, almost volatile.

  He had never felt like this with a woman before.

  Afraid that he wouldn't be able to hide the raging emotions threatening to erupt and overflow, burning them both to cinders; he lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed the soft pads of her fingers before standing up abruptly. “Don't you worry, love. This is your home for as long as you like.” He kissed her fingertips again. “I'll always be here for you, Deanna. I promise.” Pressing her hand to his face, he said goodnight before hurrying out of her bedroom. He reached the landing and leaned against the railing, shaking with pent-up emotion and frustration. How long could he keep his feelings hidden? God, he wanted her, wanted her so badly he felt on the verge of madness.

  But she still loved Nigel...he could see it in her eyes.

  Something dark and taunting sniggered in his ear, “She'll never love you, you bloody fool.”

  “Yeah?” he murmured as if challenging its oily whisper. If he couldn't win Deanna's love he would settle for her gratitude and his love would have to be enough for the both of them.

  Chapter 19

  Muffled voices woke Deanna. Unsteady and disoriented, she stumbled out of bed, still groggy from the effects of the painkiller she had taken the night before. She opened the bedroom door a crack, hearing several male voices in the living room and then the sound of laughter. She pulled on her robe and started for the stairs when the sound of Nigel's voice stopped her dead in her tracks. He asked Thom to play a few notes before he joined in and sang the line of a song Deanna had never heard before. Her heart hammered against her ribcage so hard it made her feel faint at the sound of his stunning vocals. She leaned against the door jamb straining to hear Nigel, but Alistair cut in to discuss an idea he had before starting to play a different melody. Nigel began humming loudly, trying to follow Alistair's lead. The music stopped abruptly, followed by an intense discussion, and finally the twang of guitar strings as the guitarists laid their instruments down and headed for the kitchen. Their voices were barely audible, but she smelled the delicious aroma of coffee. Thom's voice got louder as he left the kitchen, and she heard him say he found a great deal on a coffee maker at a shop on the King's Road earlier that morning.

  Mims was yowling and Jayson asked Thom if he could give the cat some cream.

  “Oi, where’re you going?” Jayson shouted and Deanna saw Mims scrambling up the stairs towards her.

  The cat reared up against her legs crying loudly. Deanna picked her up and backed into her bedroom, quickly shutting the door. She held Mims and stroked her, hoping that Jayson hadn't mentioned she was staying at the flat. As far as she knew, none of the other band members had a clue what had happened between her and Nigel, and she wanted to keep it that way. She sat on the edge of the bed, clutching Mims tightly, Nigel's voice echoing in her mind. She despised the way the sound of it made her want to throw herself at his feet and shamelessly beg him to take her back even if it was under his own selfish terms.

  She must be crazy!

  Nigel rejected her love, dumped her, and wasted no time jumping in the sack with that treasonous bitch, Maggi. He was a first class creep but it didn't change the fact that she was terrified she might be capable of doing anything just to feel his mouth on hers again, the weight of his body pressing down on her, his hands and lips pleasuring all of the sensitive spots on her body that only he knew existed. God help her, she still loved and desired the cruel vocalist so much that being in close proximity to him was almost killing her. Her stomach cramped and she bent over dropping Mims to the floor, clutching her belly and crying out in pain. She silently pleaded with God to take away her desperate need for the man who had almost destroyed her life.

  He was no good. No good for her at all.

  The door opened and Thom stared at her in open-mouthed surprise. “My God, Deanna, are you alright?” He knelt beside her, running his hands up and down her arms.

  She lay back on the bed and swallowed hard before answering him. “I felt nauseous for a minute. It was probably from the pain pills.”

  “Are you sure that's all there is to it?” He searched her face as if he didn't believe her. Before she could answer, Thom straightened up and turned away from her. “You heard Nigel downstairs. That's what this is really about.”

  “I just lost his baby, Thom. I can't help that it still hurts.”

  He shook his head and left the room without another word. That bothered her more than harsh or angry words ever could. She started to get up but heard the front door slam, leaving the flat strangely silent. Deanna knew the band had gone to the rehearsal hall so Thom wouldn't be home for hours. In a way she was relieved. It would be impossible to make him understand her pathetic, all-consuming need for Nigel. Part of her wondered why Thom even cared. They were just becoming friends.

  She wandered into the kitchen glad to see there was enough coffee left over to fill a mug. After pouring a generous helping of cream and sugar into the cup, she filled it to the brim with steaming coffee, sprinkled in some cinnamon and called for Mims to follow her into the living room. Deanna turned on the TV and tried to lose herself in a boring BBC program but her mind kept returning to Thom's odd accusation. Why did he care? There must be something she was missing. She went over the last few days again trying to recall his behavior towards her. Nothing seemed unusual until she remembered the way he brushed the hair away from her face and kissed her fingertips. She could picture his blue eyes gazing at her with more than just friendly concern, and it startled her to think that Thom might have deeper feelings for her. She stared down at the cup of rapidly cooling coffee in her hand, imagining what it would be like to become involved with Thom. Maybe he was the answer to breaking the unhealthy hold Nigel still had on her. He was kind, caring, and he made her laugh. Although that sounded like a bad cliché it was the truth. She set the coffee cup down and leaned back, running her fingers through the napping cat's thick fur. What would be the harm in enjoying each other until he was off to America to play his music and indulge his wildest rock star fantasies? There would be no shortage of comely, little groupies eager to throw themselves at the handsome, blonde English rocker for a few hours of backstage and hotel sex. He would forget about her in no time at all. As for her: she would be in her last year of school soon to graduate and make her escape back to the hot Arizona desert where she would create a comfortable, if not boring, life for herself.

  A brand new beginning far away from the mossy, rain-soaked memories of a life wasted, and almost utterly destroyed in the ancient, over-crowded city of London.

  ****

  Lost in the imaginary feel of Thom's lips caressing her skin, Deanna heard the clock strike one o'clock. She jumped up out of the chair causing Mims to yowl in surprise. Her appointment at the hospital's burn unit was in forty-five minutes and she hadn't even taken a shower. She got dressed quickly, trying not to use her injured hand which had begun to ache and sting in earnest.

  There wasn't a cab in sight as Deanna hurried toward the King's Road. At this time of day traffic wasn't likely to be at a standstill but it would be slow, hitting every traffic light alon
g the crowded King's Road, teeming with shoppers and tourists. She finally spotted a black cab with its “for hire” sign lit and waved frantically, hoping the driver would stop for her which, as luck would have it he did. She told the driver her destination and climbed in the spacious back seat holding onto the strap as the cabbie sped away, making a sharp left turn to head in the direction of the hospital.

  The examination was quick. While the doctor dug through a medicine cabinet, a nurse washed and treated Deanna's hand before applying a fresh bandage. Handing her a bag filled with anti-bacterial wash, creams, and gauze bandages, the doctor instructed her on caring for her burns at home but he insisted that she return in a week for a follow-up examination. The nurse showed her to the front desk where she made an appointment and asked where she could find a pay phone. A call to her teacher the day before had gone very badly. In a faintly disapproving and peevish tone, the surly woman advised her to come into the administration office to discuss her lengthy absence from her summer classes. She hinted at the negative effects those absences might have in terms of continuing her studies and student aid. Deanna felt vaguely threatened and dreaded facing her teacher, and possibly the program director as well. She feared she would be forced to tell them about her miscarriage. No doubt that confession would have dire consequences. English schools were extremely old fashioned and conservative, and she knew that her miscarriage could mean the end of her work study program in England, even ruining her chances of getting financial aid to continue her studies in the States.

  She dialed the teacher's number with trembling fingers and prayed to God that she would not get kicked out of school. A career in travel and tourism might not afford her an exciting or glamorous life, but it would insure that she made a lucrative income with plenty of opportunities. After all of the horrible things that had happened in England, she looked forward to a dull life in Phoenix, surrounded by family and familiar places. Still, there was the matter of her parents finding out the reason she’d been expelled. She had no doubt the school would see to it that her folks knew all of the sordid details and that terrified her. The Darmody’s were devout Christians and believed their daughter was the heart and soul of decency, purity, and good judgment. News of her indiscretion would devastate them. For the moment, they believed that she had moved in with a female classmate after she and Maggi had a major disagreement. She embellished her not-so-little white lie by pretending that Thom was the girl's brother---also a student. They hadn't been comfortable with a “boy” sharing the flat, but they trusted that she would steer clear of any involvement with him. Thom went along with the charade but thought she should come clean with her parents before getting entangled in even more lies. Deanna vehemently disagreed so they said no more about it. Now she stood to lose everything, including her parents trust and respect which she obviously didn't deserve.

  To her dismay the teacher was able to meet with her in a couple of hours giving her time to get copies of her hospital admission papers, prescriptions, and doctor's notes for both the miscarriage and burn incident. Against her better judgment, she began to read the doctor’s notes written the night she was admitted to the hospital after losing the baby. It made her feel light-headed and nauseous to read the nightmarish details of her baby's death, and she started to cry, feeling the emptiness left by the loss of her child pulling her deep into a black void of despair. Images of Nigel forcing her to her knees flashed before her eyes. He was bleeding and shouting at her. She wanted to tell him about his child but she couldn't find the words...not while he was hurting her that way. Instead she asked for her life back; the life that he had used up and tossed aside so cruelly when it no longer suited his selfish needs. She remembered the soft cotton of his worn jeans against her face, and then nothing. The papers in her hand fluttered to the floor, but she didn't notice. Afraid that she might faint, she stumbled to a nearby bench and hung her head between her knees. A nurse tapped her shoulder, concern lining her gentle face. She brought Deanna a cup of water, and handed her the disordered paperwork, insisting that she be checked by a doctor before asking her to stay put. As soon as the nurse was out of sight, Deanna rushed out of the hospital, taking deep breaths of the fresh air to help clear her head. She didn't know exactly what had caused her to almost blackout, but she had to get hold of herself if she was going to face the accusing, unforgiving glare of her holier-than-thou teacher. A car honked its horn several times and Deanna looked up to see Thom leaning on the door of his Mini. He waved as she trotted towards the car.

  “I'm sorry I forgot about your appointment,” he said while opening the car door for her.

  “It's no big deal, Thom. Really.” Deanna settled against the scratchy cloth seat waiting for him to get in the car. “Can you drop me off at school? I have a meeting with my teacher in a couple of hours.”

  “Yeah, of course.” He looked at her hand and touched the thick bandage lightly, “What did the doctor say?”

  She showed him the bag full of medical supplies and explained that she could care for her hand at home although the doctor wanted to see her in a week. Thom nodded, said he’d be glad to help her doctor her injured hand and pulled out of the hospital parking lot into heavy afternoon traffic. They talked about rehearsal and a couple of new songs the band was working on but Deanna seemed distracted. He reckoned her mood had a lot to do with her meeting at the school. She’d been dreading it for the past couple of days. Deanna's favorite song came on the radio so he began to turn up the volume when traffic came to a sudden halt. Thom rolled down his window and leaned out to see what the problem was. There had been a minor accident which police were trying to clear up quickly. He told Deanna what was happening and that he figured it wouldn't take long to get moving again. She shrugged and smiled at him. He fiddled with the radio volume again finally turning to look at her. He acted as though he had something to say but wasn't sure how to broach the subject. Deanna studied him for a few moments before asking him if everything was alright.

  He nodded and took a deep breath, “I want to apologize for what I said to you about Nigel this morning. I had no right.”

  “Thom...,” she said but he shook his head, silencing her.

  “I know what he meant...what he still means to you. You lost his baby and he doesn't even know about it. I'm sure that hurts you even more.” Thom paused for a few seconds, wanting to find the right words. “I shouldn't have questioned your reaction when you realized he was at our flat. You haven't seen him since that awful day, yeah?”

  Deanna clasped his hand and held on tightly, hoping he would realize that she wasn't upset. She appreciated his concern.

  “For what it's worth love, I think you should talk to him.”

  “You can't be serious, Thom.”

  “You can't avoid him forever, can you?” Thom shifted uncomfortably and looked away from her. “I think you should tell him about the baby, Deanna.”

  “No way!” She jerked her hand away and Thom sighed.

  “He asks about you every time I see him. I'm getting tired of telling him to piss off or that it's none of his business. It is his business, yeah?”

  Deanna shook her head as tears rolled down her face, unable to believe that Thom was encouraging her to face the bastard who ripped her heart out and crushed it under Maggi's back while he fucked her with joyous abandon. She could still hear their screams and moans echoing in the flat on Woodsome Road.

  It made her want to die.

  “I can't believe you...oh, how can you even suggest that, Thom?” She covered her face and began to sob.

  “I think he can help you get through this darlin'. I know how much you need him, Deanna. I see it in your eyes,” Thom said, stroking her hair gently.

  Deanna clutched his arm, “No Thom, you're wrong. I don't need Nigel.” She took a tissue out of her purse and wiped her eyes and nose before leaning close to him, sliding her arms around his neck. “I need you.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder and Thom smiled. Dean
na had passed his test with flying colors. Poor little thing, he hadn't meant to upset her so much, but he had to know if there was even the slightest chance she would run back to Nigel once she healed. It was true that the prying wank always asked about her even though he consistently reacted with undisguised hostility and refused to tell Nigel anything. Still the bastard persisted and pestered. If his relationship with Deanna worked out as he hoped it would, Nigel would be forced to back off for good.

  With the last pieces of shattered plastic and glass swept off of the road the traffic began to move. Thom kissed Deanna's temple and started the car. Maybe he had a chance to win her love after all.

  ****

  Tapping his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel, Thom waited for Deanna to return from her meeting, confident that she would not be expelled if for no other reason than greed. Students were hard to come by due to Britain's growing economic problems. No doubt those self-righteous old cows would get their feathers ruffled by the beautiful Yank's naughty behavior but would be forced to keep her as a student for financial reasons. He would love to be a fly on the wall in that meeting. He was sorry Deanna had to go through their ridiculous pantomime only to be told that she would be given one more chance to complete her courses and get her degree. She was a determined lady and he felt proud of her, but he hated to see her suffer indignities at the hands of uptight grannies that had nothing better to do than make a spirited young girl's life a misery. Deanna would be forced to re-live the worst night of her life and that angered him. He got out of the car and leaned against the bonnet, breathing in the cool air. It was chilly for an early August afternoon. He reckoned it had to do with the Thames River being close by, cooling down the wind as it swept over the cold, choppy waves. Perhaps he would take Deanna down to the riverbank where they could enjoy a lager or two at one of the riverside pubs. She would probably need it after meeting with that lot.