A Different Game: A Wrong Game Novel

by Matthews, Charlie M.

  I pushed the door open, my eyes meeting Taylor’s before I glanced back and stepped outside, quietly closing the door behind me. “What are you doing here?” I asked, pushing my fingers through my hair.

  Taylor frowned and cocked his head to the side. “I’m staying for a few days, remember?”

  “Oh…”

  “I told you the other day. At the dinner table. Were you not listening?”

  “Yeah, sorry.” I shook my head, trying to appear as though I had just forgotten when really I hadn’t been listening at all.

  “Jake, what happened back there? At the bar…”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. I knew what he meant. He was referring to Melanie and the shit she spewed out. I didn’t know why she would think that. I may not have ever taken her out, but I wasn't ashamed to be seen with her. I never even gave her any reason to think that.

  “Don’t play stupid, mate. Why did you take her home?”

  “I didn’t. I brought her here.”

  “You brought her here? Why would you do that?”

  “I couldn’t leave her on her own, Tay. Not like that.”

  “She wasn’t on her own. She had her friend.”

  “The same friend who let her get wasted in the first place?”

  “So? This is Melanie we’re talking about. It’s what she does.” Taylor’s voice was rising as he tried to understand why I would help her. He wouldn’t get it. Hell, I didn’t get it. “Look.” He sighed. “I know you’re a good kid and helping people is what you do—”

  “Don’t,” I said, cutting him off. “Don’t patronise me.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I guess I just… I just don’t get it, that’s all. Mel? Really?”

  “I felt sorry for her, alright? You saw the mess she was in. If that was Lola back there, what would you have done?”

  “That’s different, mate. Lola isn’t Melanie.”

  “No. No, she’s not.”

  “I didn’t come for another argument, Jake. I’m worried about you.”

  “You really don’t need to be,” I shot back sarcastically.

  “Well, tough. You’re my brother and I do fuckin’ worry. That girl is her own worst enemy. Whatever she’s going through she’s brought on herself.”

  “Maybe so, but if my memory serves right, it wasn’t so long ago that you were in her position. Who helped you then, ay? Me. I could’ve turned my back on you, Tay. Fuck,” I pushed out, my fingers tugging at my hair in frustration. “I was there. I fuckin’ stopped you from making mistake after mistake, and I could’ve just left you to it, but I didn’t. Where would you be now if your arse hadn’t been saved from sinking?

  “And I’ve thanked you for that. Time and time again I’ve thanked you for saving my arse.”

  “I don’t want your gratitude. It’s not about that.”

  “What is it about then, Jake? You just want to help her, right? Then what? She’ll screw you over and you’ll become a bigger arse than you are already.”

  “Don’t fuckin’ start,” I warned.

  “I’m done,” he said, tossing his hands up. “I can’t sit by and watch this train wreck. She’ll screw you over. You know it. I know it. It’s just a matter of time.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “No?” he asked, both brows raised high in challenge. “I’ve been there, remember? She ruined my life. Lola’s life. She was an evil, vindictive bitch back then, and from what I saw tonight, she still is. You saw the mess she was in, Jake. She’s crazy.”

  “And I guess none of that was down to you, right? I mean, you slept with the girl, used her and threw her away like she was nothing the second Lola came along. And you wonder why she is the way she is.”

  Taylor shrugged his shoulders. “She knew the score. And I didn’t hear her complaining when she had my dick down her throat.”

  It was then that a feeling completely alien to me took over; a darkness I couldn’t control. It was overpowering, claiming my very soul until my fist collided with his jaw and his gaze swung to mine. My chest rose and fell heavily as my hand shook with aftershocks. I tried to focus on the throbbing that pulsed against the skin of my knuckles, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stare up at my brother and will that feeling to go away. The feeling that I could feel in the very depths of my soul. The feeling he wore long after he walked away: Hurt.

  19

  There was noise.

  Lots and lots, of noise.

  No. Scrap that! Drums. Loud, obnoxious drums.

  And they were close… so damn close that I could feel the vibrations in my ear.

  My throat felt as though I’d spent the last few hours chewing on sandpaper. It was hard, scratchy as hell sandpaper.

  Why did it hurt so much?

  And who the hell was playing the drums at this time of the morning?

  Oh, God. Don't move. Stay right where you are.

  But I needed to pee. Holy mother of all things holy, I really needed to pee.

  I peeled one eye open as I awaited the onslaught of vicious sunlight that I knew would hurt like a bitch.

  But there was darkness.

  Nothing but darkness.

  I was safe.

  This wouldn't hurt a bit.

  Just count to three.

  One…

  Two…

  Three…

  Open.

  I blinked slowly, allowing my eyes time to adjust.

  When had Frankie redecorated? I frowned.

  Wait. This wasn't Frankie’s place.

  “Please tell me you aren't gonna throw up again,” came a sleepy groan.

  A voice.

  A man's voice.

  No. Not just any man’s voice. A Jake voice. In my bed. In Frankie’s bed.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  Why the hell was he there?

  His voice echoed through my head. “Please tell me you aren't gonna throw up again.”

  Oh, for the love of God, what happened to me last night?

  I hadn't realised I’d closed my eyes until they opened again. I wasn't in Frankie’s room… and it definitely wasn't my room.

  Oh, God. Please, someone kill me now.

  “Mel?” His voice again. More alert this time.

  “Hmph.”

  “Are you okay? You're not gonna throw up, are you?”

  “No. I don't… I have no idea.” I shook my head and instantly groaned. Fuck, that hurt. “Why am I here? And who the hell is playing those goddamn drums?”

  Jake laughed and I felt him move on the bed. “You were pretty wasted last night.” His voice was soft with a hint of amusement.

  I groaned, shielding my eyes with my arm. “I figured as much.”

  “Do you want anything?”

  “No.”

  “Water?”

  “No.”

  “Paracetamol?” I was pretty certain I wouldn't be able to swallow them.

  I shook my head feebly.

  “Wine?”

  Oh hell. Even the mere mention of alcohol made my stomach churn. I could still taste it on my tongue, amongst other nasty things.

  I must've made a sound that resembled a dying dragon because Jake laughed again, then slipped out of the bed and left the room. I tried not to dwell over the fact that we had slept in the same bed again. The thought alone made me want to throw up. Again, apparently. Man, I’d hoped I’d made it to the bathroom at least.

  Not a minute later, Jake came back. “Here, take these,” he pretty much ordered. Then the room lit up like Santa's freakin’ Grotto, causing me to wince and scramble under the duvet for cover. “You'll feel better after you take some tablets.” He chuckled and attempted to peel back the covers.

  I held on for dear life. “I’m happy here.”

  “You’re happy under the covers?”

  “Yes. Very.”

  “Can you even breathe under there?”

  “Breathing is for losers.”

  “
Mel, come on. Hey, I’ll even switch the lights back off if you prefer?”

  “I do.” I nodded, although I had no idea why. It wasn’t like he could see me.

  “Okay. Done.”

  “Thank yo… what the? You lied?” I croaked out, shielding my eyes again. The sneaky son of a bitch.

  Gripping the quilt so I couldn't take cover, he held out a glass of water. “Drink.”

  “You are evil,” I mumbled, but snatched the cold glass from his hand anyway. I took a small sip. He was right. So much better. I drank some more, the cool liquid soothing my throat as it travelled down. “How bad?” I asked, finally meeting his eyes.

  “Depends what you call bad.” He shrugged.

  “I threw up?”

  “A lot.”

  Great. Just great.

  “In the toilet?” I asked, my voice filled with hope.

  “Nope. On you,” he said in an even tone, his brown eyes twinkling. “And then me,” he added.

  “Please tell me you're lying?” I cringed.

  Jake shook his head. “I wish I was.”

  “Oh, God. How embarrassing?” I felt a blush creep up on my neck, then to my cheeks. I gazed up at him as he crossed his arms over his bare chest. Why did he have to be so beautiful? And why was he looking at me as though he was studying me?

  I finished the remaining water and placed it on the bedside table. “Why did you let me stay? You could have taken me home.”

  Jake walked the short distance to the bed and sat beside me. “Honestly? I don't know. I guess I figured you needed looking after. I was gonna take you home, but then you fell asleep and… I dunno. It just seemed like the wrong thing to do.”

  “Bet you're regretting that now.”

  For the longest moment he stayed silent, continuing to study me as though I were a science project he was struggling to figure out. A cold chill ran through me and I shivered. Horror flashed through my eyes as I noticed the reason behind my sudden drop in temperature. I was naked. Totally naked. I was talking jugs out, The Notorious V.A.G. fully on display, and all I could think about to make this situation less mortifying was that, thankfully, I had mowed the garden.

  Tugging the edge of the duvet, I pulled it to my chest and held it there. “We didn't…?” No. No, we definitely didn't. I would know. No matter how wasted I was, there was no way I could forget something like that.

  “We didn't,” Jake confirmed, his lips tilted at the corner of his mouth. “You don't remember anything?”

  Phew.

  I shook my head. “Not really. I remember meeting Frankie for lunch, then it's all a bit of a blur from there.”

  Jake nodded. He almost looked relieved.

  “I should go,” I told him and attempted to move. Shit. My clothes.

  “You don't have to rush. If you want to take a shower and clean up, that's cool. I don't have anywhere to be.”

  My lips twisted as I thought it over. I shouldn't stay, but I really needed a shower. There was no way I could leave the house like this. Besides, I didn't even have my car. I would have to get Frankie to pick me up. I dreaded hearing what she would say.

  “Do you mind? I’ll be quick, I promise. I’ll get Frankie to pick me up.” Shit. My purse. I scanned the room in search of it but came back with nothing. Shit.

  “Your purse is in the living room.”

  “Thank God. Thanks,” I told him. Jake nodded his head in acknowledgment. I slipped out from the comfort of the bed. Naked. Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t like he hadn't already seen me naked before.

  “Don't call Frankie,” Jake called out as I reached the doorway to the living room. “I’ll drive you back once you've showered.”

  “You don't have to. It's really not a—”

  “I’ll drop you back, Mel,” he said, cutting me off. I bit my lip and nodded. I wouldn't argue it with him. If he wanted to take me back, he could.

  I stepped out of the shower, thankful I no longer smelt like I’d just spent the night in a local brothel. I went about brushing my teeth using the spare toothbrush Jake had kindly set out for me. He’d also left me a pair of shorts and a hoodie to change into.

  Slipping my legs into the shorts, I rolled them up, tying them at the waist until I was happy with the fit. They were a little on the big side, but I was thankful I wouldn't have to leave the house in the clothes I’d thrown up in. For a moment I wondered where he’d put them. Then I realised he’d likely chucked them out. I wouldn't have wanted to keep them anyway.

  The red hoodie easily slipped over my head, landing just above my knees, and covering the shorts that sat bunched at my waist. After towel drying my hair, I chucked it up in a messy bun and slipped out of the bathroom. Jake was already dressed in light blue jeans and a black tee that fit snug against his chest. His muscles stretched underneath the material as he turned to face me.

  “You ready to go?” he asked. I noticed he had his car keys in his hand. He had been waiting for me. I guessed he wanted me gone already.

  “Yeah, umm… thanks… for the clothes.”

  Jake's eyes roamed the entire length of me before he shook his head. “No problem.”

  “Okay. Well, I’m ready, so…”

  “Yeah, sure.” He shook his head again. “Let's get you home.”

  I didn't live too far away from Jake's. Maybe twenty minutes on a bad day. But today it seemed to take forever before we reached the long, country road that lead to my parents’ estate. Most of the drive was spent in silence, our main focus being straight ahead. Even when we came to a junction and the traffic lights turned red, causing Jake to do an emergency stop and apologise, I never said a word.

  I wanted to ask him about the night before, but the words wouldn't come. So I stayed quiet, praying I hadn't made a complete fool of myself. If me throwing up was the worst of it all then I could take it.

  We eventually pulled up to the double iron gates and Jake wound his window down. “What's the code?” He must've noticed me frown. “Don't worry, I’m not gonna use it to break in.” He laughed.

  That thought hadn't even crossed my mind.

  “2803,” I told him.

  Jake punched in the numbers and rolled his window back up. The gates opened and we made our way down the long gravel driveway that curved as it neared the front of the house.

  I gazed up at the front of the house. I could tell immediately that no one was home. The lights were off which meant Alice hadn’t stopped by yet, either. My eyes travelled to the last window on the left. My bedroom. I sighed at the realisation that I would be walking into an empty house. I hated how knowing that made me feel. Although my parents barely acknowledged me when they were home, I at least knew they were there… that I wasn't alone. Even if I felt as though I was.

  My parents had gone to the city on business, which wasn’t really new. They were away a lot. I never really understood why. My father was mayor of Winslow. Surely that meant he should be in Winslow. Apparently his role as town mayor meant he had to negotiate with other town mayors from across the country. Mum, however, had started to spend more time at her design studio in London since Shawn passed away. She made out she was busy with work, but I knew the truth. She couldn't stand to be around me, so she wasn't.

  I released a sigh as Jake pulled the car to a stop outside the house. For a moment we stayed silent, both staring up at the large brick house. When I realised I had made no attempt to leave the car, I inhaled a long breath and turned to Jake. “Thanks for looking after me. I’m sorry you had to do it.”

  Jake tightened his hold on the steering wheel. He still hadn’t looked my way. “I’m not. Your friend shouldn't have let you get in that state,” he said, his voice hard.

  “Frankie?” I laughed. “I’m pretty sure she tried to cut me off. I guess I didn't listen.”

  “Still…” Jake shook his head. He was angry at Frankie. When he finally turned to face me, his eyes were full of concern. “Why did you do it? Get like that, I mean?”

&nbs
p; I shrugged. “I don't usually. Yesterday was… it was a bad day.”

  “What happened?” he asked, his brown eyes soft and full of compassion.

  I paused to take a breath. “Yesterday marked the four years since I last saw Shawn alive. And it just…. well, it never gets easier.” I shook my head. “If anything, it's worse every year.”

  “Shawn’s your brother?”

  “He was my brother,” I repeated.

  “I’m sorry, I never… I mean, I did, but…” Jake shook his head again as if he was angry at himself. “What happened?”

  “Don't be sorry. Not many people know what happened. I guess my parents kept the cause of death quiet. I think they were concerned with what others would think if they knew the truth.”

  “The truth?”

  “Well, it wasn't good. I mean, death isn't good whatever the circumstances.” I fumbled over my sentence. “But Shawn? It was… I think…” The words were there, right on the tip of my tongue. He was an addict. His addiction killed him. The words wouldn't come out, though.

  What would Jake think if he knew the truth?

  Would he think that I was using alcohol as a way of coping? Would he think that I had a drink problem?

  As the questions tore through my mind, realisation did, too. Had this been the reason why my parents covered it up? Because they were afraid that others would think addiction ran in the family? I was slowly starting to get a taste of what that fear felt like. And I hated it.

  “It was bad…” Jake breathed out.

  My eyes shot to his and I opened my mouth to speak, but the words hung there, unmoving as I watched the emotion cross Jake’s face. It was a look of acceptance. He was accepting what I had told him and he wasn't going to push me. He wasn't going to bombard me with question on top of question like most people did when Shawn’s name was brought up. He was going to take whatever I gave him rather than push for information.

  I closed my eyes and nodded. “Yes,” I whispered.