by Lisa Swallow
A chick walks by with a coy smile thrown my way. Long legs, glossy brown hair, and a killer ass moulded into her skinny jeans, she heads to Jax. I watch in amusement as Jax ramps up his semi-star status, loudly showing her around the studio. As usual, Will and Nate have disappeared to continue their drinking at the pub round the corner, and nearby Ruby packs up her guitar. Her reaction to Jax and the girl is non-committal, but something about them bothers her because she’s frowning at the discussion Jax and the girl are having. I heard what Jax said to Ruby outside the room that night, have they acted on it? Jax doesn’t introduce the girl to us; maybe he doesn’t know her name. Ruby switches to ignoring them, until Jax announces he’s leaving, arm around the shoulders of his brown-haired goddess.
“I thought you were giving me a lift home?” asks Ruby, straightening.
“Shit. Forgot. We’re joining Will and Nate. I doubt I’ll be driving. You can come too?” suggests Jax.
“Thanks a fucking bunch,” she snaps. “I have a six a.m. shift, then the afternoon here. I’m not going anywhere apart from home.”
“Sorry,” says Jax but he isn’t; he’s too focused on groping the chick’s ass and kissing her eager mouth.
“I was waiting for you; now it’s getting dark! I’ll get the fucking bus,” mutters Ruby and grabs her bag.
“I’ll take you,” I say, happy to find an opportunity to talk to her about this crap with Dan.
Ruby’s tense shoulders relax. “You sure?”
“Yeah. It’s cool. I’m not busy tonight. How far is it?”
“Maybe twenty minutes from here. At this time, anyway.”
Ruby’s house is closer to half an hour away. The journey is polite conversation, Ruby keeping the topic on what I’ve been doing in the States and carefully steering away any questions about her. In return, I don’t answer much of what she asks. I pull my BMW up outside her small house. She’s chewing her nails and surveying the street. The happier Ruby has retreated since we last spent time alone together.
“Going to invite me in for a coffee?” I ask, switching off the engine.
“You do know that’s a euphemism for fucking?”
Jesus, this girl’s barriers are high again.
“Yeah, but I actually mean coffee. Decaf.”
Ruby allows me a smile. “You really have kicked every addiction, haven’t you?”
“Most. So? Do I get my decaf?”
She opens the car door and pauses. “Sure.”
Inside Ruby’s house, a girl sits in the lounge, ordinary looking chick with short brown hair clipped back at the side, curled up reading a book. She looks up at me and recognition flickers.
“Oh. I didn’t expect you to bring him home,” she says to Ruby.
“This is Kate, my housemate.”
“Hey.” I nod and she continues to gawk at me as we head to the kitchen.
“Do you ever get used to people’s reactions to you?” Ruby asks, flicking on the kettle that rests on the counter in the narrow room.
“That wasn’t a reaction. A reaction is her unable to resist my charms and wanting my attention. She didn’t give a fuck.”
“That’s the Jem Jones I expect,” she says quietly and pulls mugs out of the cupboard. “Besides, she’s more of a boy band girl.”
“Ugh.” I pull out a dining chair and sit at the scratched wooden table.
Ruby pulls her phone out of her bag and places it on the counter before throwing her bag into the corner. “Losing your touch, Jem.”
I pull a face and she laughs. I fucking love it when Ruby laughs. She rakes her hair upwards and ties it into a high ponytail. “I wish this weather would break; it’s too fucking hot.”
I don’t listen. I stare at Ruby’s mouth, at the curve of her neck, at where her fingers trail through her hair, and I want her. There’s no room in my head for anything but Ruby, the daily obsession isn’t helped by putting myself in the situation of time alone with her again.
Does she recognise my not-so-hidden thoughts when she returns my gaze? Probably because she looks away. “I want to get changed. I’ll be back in a sec.” Ruby heads out of the kitchen.
I tap my fingers on the table. Seems Kate isn’t the only girl in the house immune to my charms. Since the night in the hotel room and after the time apart, we’re back at square one because, despite what I see when I look at her, Ruby has me at arm’s length.
Ruby’s phone buzzes with a message and I glance at the door before crossing to pick it up. Yeah, I shouldn’t but I’m worried about her.
Dan.
What the fuck is she doing communicating with the dickhead?
I scroll back through the messages. Dan texts several times a day but she never replies. Veiled threats about waiting for her after work, or coming over to the house. Another text appears as I hold the phone.
“What the hell are you doing?” hisses Ruby. She reappears next to me and snatches the phone.
“I could ask you the same question. What the fuck is this?”
“None of your fucking business!” She lowers her voice. “I’m dealing with it.”
“It is my business. Remember, Ruby Riot’s my business.”
“Don’t pull that bullshit!” She’s trembling, cheeks pink.
“You okay?” calls Kate from the other room.
“Yeah. Differences of opinion. It’s cool. Jem’s leaving once I’ve put him straight,” calls back Ruby and closes the kitchen door. She’s changed into a short blue cotton dress covered in a cherry print. With its thin straps and barely skimming her knees, this dress reveals an uncomfortable amount of her body. She might be cooler, but the amount of Ruby’s skin on show heats my blood.
“No, I’m not leaving. Not until you tell me why you’re communicating with him.”
“I’m not! I don’t reply, do I? Or did you not get far enough with your spying to see that?”
I inhale and hold the breath, calming myself. “Change your number. He’s still in your life.”
“I said I’m dealing with it.”
“If you let him back in…”
“I won’t! Back off!” she interrupts.
“No, I won’t!”
“Are you threatening me? Because that makes you as bad as him!”
I drag my fingers into my hair. I want to take Ruby by the shoulders and shake away her stupidity. “No. I care about you.”
Shit.
Ruby crosses her arms tightly. “Don’t go there again.”
Fuck it. I might as well admit it now it’s slipped out. “It’s true. I care about you a lot.”
“Well, don’t!”
We face off, battle lines drawn again. We’re closer than I realised; I’m in Ruby’s personal space and she hasn’t backed off. The look in her eyes isn’t fear or anger, but something I recognise as easily. Confused desire. Ruby parts her lips as she looks at mine.
“Fuck, Ruby. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t do this.”
“What?”
I close the remaining space between us, but she doesn’t move. “Games. Dancing around. Holding myself back because I’m scared of hurting you. I’m not interested in your URST crap, I just want to fucking kiss you.”
Ruby’s breath hitches slightly and she glances at my mouth. Before she can respond, I take her face in both hands and crash my mouth onto hers. I need to feel her lips, see how she reacts, and if she pushes me away, fine. At least I’ll have snatched one kiss from the girl who has me wrapped around her finger without realising it. Ruby pulls my hands from her face and her mouth away but doesn’t move, keeping her fingers wrapped around mine. Her breath comes in short, hot bursts against my cheek and at each point our bodies touch, my senses shut down against anything but her.
“I missed you,” I whisper, lips moving against her cheek.
“Don’t, Jem,” she says hoarsely. “Don’t play with me.”
“I’m
not.” I move my head back and take her face again; she continues to grip my hands. Wide eyes look back, but her shared want is unmistakable. I skim my lips against hers and wait for the reaction, fighting against the need bubbling to the surface, the one pushing out weeks of self-control. “Ruby.”
“Fuck it.” I want to laugh at her words as she winds her fingers into my hair and presses her lips against mine. I shift, encircling her waist, holding her to me. Parting her lips with my tongue, I claim her mouth, the mouth I’ve tortured myself dreaming about, and the dreams that keep away the nightmares. The depth of her kiss drags away the last worry that she doesn’t want this. Ruby’s fingers trail to the nape of my neck, holding my head against hers.
The lust floods to my hardening dick and she stumbles backward as I push her against the door. Ruby drags her mouth away with a gasp so I lay kisses along her neck. I’m desperate to touch her but I’m limiting myself, listening to the tiny piece of rationality surviving the hunger I have for this woman. If I slide a hand up Ruby’s naked leg, I’m pretty damn sure I’d get a slap and this would be over.
“Jem. Stop,” she breathes, although her body is telling me a different story, arching toward me as I nip at her soft skin. I want her so fucking much, kissing her isn’t enough.
Ruby’s puts her arms between our chests and shoves me. “Stop!”
I drop my arms and step back. Her pink face reflects my confusion.
The line crossed, reality hangs between us. With that kiss, she jolted the emotions I’ve pushed and pushed until they were buried in the corner of my mind but without drugs, denying to myself how I feel isn’t as easy. Ruby’s kiss ripped the hidden corner open and my deepest thoughts and fears flood out, along with the weeks of desire for her pouring into my body. Not physical desire, that’s clear and always was; but an ache to have Ruby in my life. Take care of her. Be who she wants me to be. Who she needs me to be.
Like Liv.
Shit.
I take another step back, pulling away from the fusion happening. “Fuck. Sorry. I have to go. Sorry, I can’t do this.”
“What the hell?” she whispers.
I rub my palms across my face. Yeah, what the hell am I doing? “I shouldn’t have. Shit, Ruby. I’m fucking sorry.”
Ruby’s flushed face now pales and I pray there’s no tears. “You bastard. I knew you were screwing around with me!”
“It was only a kiss.”
Ruby parts her mouth to say something; but instead she turns away, tearing at my heart. Yeah, my heart, the muscle that pumps blood suddenly hurts. No, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was a unity. The raw connection I saw and denied the first time we met led to this moment and melded our lives.
And I’m not going there.
I hover for a moment; but Ruby doesn’t turn back to me, instead stands with her arms wrapped around herself. I won’t be able to give Ruby what she wants because I’m not prepared to give myself to anyone. Ruby deserves someone to love and cherish her, not a fucked-up ex-addict who can’t look at her without seeing the girl who died because of him.
When the silence remains, I walk away. What point are words?
Chapter Twenty
Ruby
Do I hurt? No. Am I angry? Fuck, yeah.
I’m exhausted when I arrive for my shift the next morning, I spent the night awake replaying Jem’s kiss and trying to figure out what the hell he meant by it. Jem said no games and he’s playing the biggest one of all. I touch my mouth, firing the memory back through. Nobody’s ever kissed me with the passion Jem did, and I’ve never kissed anybody back with a desire that matches theirs. I avoided kissing Dan unless I had no choice; I could stay disconnected from him that way.
Jem Jones kissed me like he meant it, as if he wanted me. Then seconds later, he kicked me to one side. Did he get what he wanted and then decide I’m not as attractive as he thought once he touched me? Or did he wake up to the fact the whole situation is complicated and wrong? The door to trusting Jem I’d opened is slammed shut, and now the key’s hidden. So he’s worried my situation with Dan might fuck up the band? Newsflash, Jem Jones, you did.
No, I don’t hurt, it’s worse than that. I ache more than any physical or emotional pain Dan ever caused, my heart rent into pieces. With Dan, I was numb. With Jem, I feel everything.
After my morning shift, I call Jax and tell him I’m too sick to get to the studio this afternoon and spend the time I would’ve been with the band hiding under the duvet in my room. Is Dan right? Am I not worth anything to people? Am I that broken? Dan’s words circle my head, every cruel thing he’s ever said. Nobody would be interested in me. I’m worthless. I don’t deserve to be loved.
I didn’t expect Jem to fall in love with me but it’s clear I invested too much of my self-esteem into his approval, not just for the band but also for myself.
So how can I blame Jem? This is all my fault; it always is.
Evening arrives and I have to face the world again. I shower and dress for work, paint on my disguise. The shift is a blur, my usual poor customer service skills worse than ever. I spill drinks, slide food off plates, and end up reprimanded after a customer hears me call her something unpleasant under my breath.
Ten p.m. and I’m out. The August air is thick with moisture; the horrible breathable weather has hung around all this week. I hope it breaks soon because the oppressive humidity doesn’t help my mood - or my ability to sleep. My phone beeps and I freeze in the cafe doorway in case it’s Dan.
Jax checking up on me.
I send back a bright and breezy text informing him I’ll be at the studio in the morning and he replies with a smiley face. I’m not sure I will, or if I can face Jem yet. My head’s a mess.
Jax forgot to meet me again tonight. Steeling myself, I head between the buildings that run from the street the cafe’s on to the place where I park my car. I imagine the boys are at The Lion’s Head. Will Jem be with them for once?
Get out of my fucking head, Jem. I touch my mouth, pissed off I keep pulling out memories of his lips, his clean scent and the sensation of his rough cheek against mine; the way my body begged to meld with his. Be his. Why did I do it?
Someone slams into me from behind, knocking my breath and I stumble. Pain seers my scalp as my hair is yanked back and I’m pushed headfirst into a wall. Before I can put my arms out to stop, the rough brick scrapes my forehead.
Solid, hard muscle pins me to the wall, the overpowering smell of familiar deodorant. “You shouldn’t ignore me.”
“Dan,” I gasp. Survival mode kicks in and Tuesday comes back. “Sorry. I’ll talk now.”
Grabbing my hair, he pulls and slams my head against the wall. The stars are back and prettier than ever. This time the night sky comes with them, the darkness clouding my vision.
“I’m over talking to you. I’ve given you everything. I fucking loved you and look at what you did!” His voice is low and his breath smells of strong liquor.
“You don’t do this to people you love,” I say hoarsely. “You don’t hurt them.”
“Yeah, well I don’t love you anymore. I know you’re fucking Jem Jones. Or Jax. Maybe both, you stupid whore. Do you know how much it hurts that you treated me like this? You deserve to feel the pain I fucking feel.”
Hurt him?
I slide down the wall, cheek scraping along the bricks and crumple to the paved ground. Instinctively, I cover my head. He has a pattern. My ribs will take the next beating. Then my head. If I know what’s coming I can tick them off the list in my mind until it’s finished.
When Dan kicks me in the side, all I can think is I’m glad he’s wearing trainers. The pain radiates along my ribs and I clench my teeth, refusing to cry out.
I won’t fight back.
I’ll wait.
My response to the kicking isn’t enough; Dan stops, kneels on the floor, and pushes his hands around my neck. This isn’t his usual order of attack. My head spins through pain and lack of oxygen; above me, Dan’s face i
s a darkened mask and his hollow eyes are disengaged.
“Dan. You’re leaving marks. People will know,” I gasp, putting my hands over his.
“Like I fucking care.” He lets go and hits my face, open palmed against my injured cheek and I wince, tears forcing their way into my eyes. “This is over. If we’re over, then you’re over.” His voice echoes, distant in my sky.
I attempt to pull back from the stars. Dan’s threat is real. The ferocity of his attack is uncontrolled. We’re not hidden at his house. This is in public but he’s launching a harder punishment than he ever has before, anybody could see and he doesn’t care.
Dan grabs my t-shirt and drags me into a sitting position. Squatting down so his face is against mine, he speaks. I don’t hear or respond and my teeth jar as he shakes me, the pain in my head intense. Another smack in the face and my lip stings as the skin splits.
He lets go and I slump back to the ground. “You hit my head too much,” I mumble. “I won’t be conscious. You want to do this when it hurts me.”
Dan pauses, and my heart thumps in my ears as I struggle for energy to get away from him. My heavy head won’t coordinate my body and all I want to do is lie here and wait for this to be over. Will I ever escape him? Or does this end now? When I was a little girl, monsters in the dark never scared me. When I grew up, I learned the worst are the ones who live in the bright part of my life. They trick. They lie. They hurt.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” A voice yells in the distant dark and the face of the monster who’s eaten away at my life is gone, as Dan reels sideways. A third person is with us and the two figures land on the ground beside me.
I roll onto my side and attempt to focus through the dim of the world. A man kneels on Dan’s chest and lifts his arm, thumping Dan so hard I hear the crack of bone. The fear trembles through my body; I vomit, the familiar metallic taste of blood on my lips. The second man remains on top of Dan, pinning him down with a knee on Dan’s throat. He turns to me, but I already know who it is.