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Tied to Him

Page 12

by Tia Siren


  I packed my clothes and grabbed my toys and headed off to the pier to wait for Jonathan. I stood at the end of it like a lone warrior waiting to head off into the wilderness, yet I had the feeling I was running away, and I had never run away from anything. I really was fucked, and I knew it. I just needed to find a way to get over it, and I needed to do this quickly before it ate away at me. Otherwise, I would end up changing my mind and go running back to her.

  Shit, fuck, bastard, I thought as I kicked my foot against the pier. Is this what real relationships are like? I was glad I had never had one before. The aggravation was just too much, yet my heart felt like it was in a tug of war. Christ, it was pulled one way and then it was pulled the other. I had no idea how to react or what to do. It was understandable that my head was spinning.

  “Come on, Jonathan, where the fuck are you?” I mumbled under my breath.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets and saw the speedboat just break the horizon. The boat, as if by magic, grew larger and larger as Jonathan approached the pier.

  “Sorry I was delayed. The harbor master was late getting there to open up,” Jonathan said as he steered the boat against the jetty.

  “So, have you seen her yet? Was she awake?” Jonathan asked.

  “No. She was dead to the world. I didn’t want to wake her. I didn’t want the confrontation,” I said.

  I threw my things into the boat, jumped aboard, and took a seat at the back. Jonathan was my best friend. I had no urge to hold any conversation with him, though, and as my best friend, he knew this too, so he just concentrated on getting me home.

  I looked out across the ocean at the first full beams of sun hitting it. I just sat and tried to think. My mind had hit a dead zone and become numb. I had no rational thoughts in my head; thank god for the numbness.

  I sat there and let the fresh air and the sea spray wash over my face. I breathed in the salty air and tried to clear my mind. I found myself looking around the boat and saw my case of toys on the floor. My toys, my beloved toys. They would help to take my mind off Elizabeth. Yet when I pictured a scenario with another woman, introducing them as I always did, I had an empty feeling in my stomach and the overwhelming urge to puke. I couldn’t even picture myself using them at all, never mind using them with another woman.

  The whole weekend had made no sense at all when I thought back to the start. Did I start to fall for her when I saw her picture? It was like she had snuck up on me and ensnared me like a wild animal. I had become trapped, trapped in my emotions and my own mind.

  “Jonathan, is there anything for me to do at the office?” I asked as we started to close in on the harbor.

  “Not really. It’s Sunday, and even greedy investment bankers have to have a day off,” he said as he steered the boat toward the pier.

  Jonathan fastened the boat to the jetty, and I stepped back onto the mainland. Maybe this was what I needed, less focus in a larger area. Surely, I could lose myself and my thoughts now that I was home.

  I walked from the harbor and saw the limo waiting in the car lot. I slid into the back seat and told the driver to take me home.

  When I entered my apartment and hit the shower, I stood there with the water cascading over me and washing the weekend away. My mind slipped back to the island, and I thought of the lagoon and the waterfall. I pictured Elizabeth standing under the waterfall with the water crashing down on her. Damn, even a simple shower reminded me of her, and I wondered how many other things would remind me of her throughout the day.

  Then I had it, the one thing that would take my mind off things.

  I needed to call Alek.

  “Hello, Alek. This is Charles,” I said when he answered.

  “Hi, Charles. How the bloody hell are you?” he replied in a fun tone.

  Alek was a close associate who had emigrated from England when he was in his twenties. He’d had to do a runner, as he’d owed quite a bundle to some East End London gangsters. I had bumped into him through our love of poker. He was addicted, and I was just a fucking good player, so we clashed, yet we had become close. Alek had his finger in all the games that were going on around town, and if anyone could get me into a high-stakes game, it was him.

  “Are there any games going on today?” I asked.

  “Charles, today is your lucky day. There is a game downtown that starts in a couple of hours if you’re interested,” Alek said.

  “What’s the buy in?”

  “Half a million. Can you lay your hands on that sort of cash today?”

  “If the game starts in two hours, half a million is easy,” I said, chuckling into the phone.

  “I’ll pick you up at your apartment in a while,” Alek said.

  “I’ll be waiting,” I said.

  Poker, now why had I not thought of that before? I was feeling better already. If there was anything that could divert my focus away from Elizabeth, it had to be poker.

  I stood outside the apartment as Alek rounded the corner and drove up beside me. I quickly opened the door and jumped into his car.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Alek. It has been too long,” I said.

  “Likewise. It’s always a pleasure to see you, Charles.” He hit the gas, and the car tires squealed.

  “So why the rush to find a game?” Alek asked as he started to weave through the traffic.

  “Ah, you know. I’ve had a couple of rough days and I want to blow off some steam,” I said, wondering if Elizabeth had woken up to find me not there yet. “Where is the game then?”

  “It’s with the Russians. They have some guests in town and wanted to put on a bit of a show, so they have arranged a tournament.”

  “I bet we will see some old faces there. It’s been too long since I have played like this.”

  We arrived at the spot where the game was being held. The Russians had picked Da Vita, an old restaurant that they owned. I had heard it was used for drug manufacturing, but that had been in the old days before they went legit with many of their other operations.

  I should have read the signs as we entered the building; everywhere I looked, there were things that reminded me of Elizabeth. It seemed as if all the women there had long blond hair, which was not a good start.

  Alek and I sat at different tables, thinking it less than smart to compete against each other right at the start. The first few games seemed to fly by. Even though it was a big buy-in to the game, there were a lot of online players who thought they could make it in the real world. How wrong they were.

  My mind had started to drift away from thoughts of Elizabeth, right up until a waitress came up to me. “Is there anything I can get you, Sir?”

  I turned my head to look up at her. She was a leggy blonde, and her hair was long. I instantly had a vision of Elizabeth. I looked back at my cards, and everything was blurred. I had just totally lost my clear vision, and my next play was gone.

  “Check,” I said to bide my time.

  “Raise,” said Antonio as he shoved a stack of chips forward on the table.

  I could sense I was just about to lose my big first hand. The pot was at two hundred and fifty grand, so it would make a big dent in my stash if I lost. I closed my eyes and regained my focus, my poker face coming back. I was in control—right where I liked to be.

  “Raise one hundred grand,” I said as I counted my stack and shoved it forward.

  The play continued to go around the table until it reached Antonio. I stared as he checked his cards and thought.

  “Raise,” he said after what seemed like a lifetime.

  The dealer dealt us all another card, and after a few minutes of mental deliberation, the play continued. I watched as a couple of players cursed and swore as they threw their cards on the table. One or two said fold, as either they had nothing or the pot had just grown too big.

  The table was just the three of us, Antonio, one of the visitors, and me. I had never been one to shy away from a bluff, yet I did have a pretty decent hand. I raised, and
the table raised with me. The pot in the middle of the table had grown to one million two hundred thousand, and this was not the final table. I looked around as the crowd of onlookers grew at the table. There was no way the visitor was going to back down. He had to show his nerve to the locals, and how deep his pockets were.

  We sat and stared at each other, and we tried to read each other’s faces as we looked for any weaknesses or signs of what our cards could be. I had seen a few cards face up when some had folded, and the odds, it appeared, had gone in my favor.

  I had calculated what I needed to win. I had a hand full of black. Just one card and I had a flush up to the jack. It was a big risk, but that was why this game was so addictive. I had forgotten about Elizabeth to concentrate on this.

  Again, the play passed between the three of us, and the visitor folded; his hand was going nowhere. He was a couple of hundred grand down. Antonio raised, and I called his bluff and raised. Our cards were face down on the table, and it all depended on the turn of the card from the dealer. We raised again, and then Antonio called. I turned my cards over one by one. All clubs up to the ten. I just needed the jack and the pot would be mine. I was sure Antonio would have nothing better than me.

  I watched as he turned his cards one by one. He had a pair of queens. The dealer started to turn the last card, and I heard the gasps of breath from the crowd as they all saw the card. The dealer flipped it.

  It was the queen of hearts.

  “Fuck,” I said quietly.

  My mind immediately flashed to thoughts of Elizabeth. Had she become my queen of hearts and I had lost myself to her? Fuck!

  Chapter 17

  Elizabeth

  I opened my eyes and saw that Charles had already woken and left his room. I knew he was an early riser; he must have gone downstairs to do some work or to exercise. I grabbed my robe and headed down and entered the kitchen. I went to turn on the coffee machine and noticed the note. I picked it up and read it slowly.

  He was gone, and the boat would be there to pick me up shortly. His words were few, but he told me to take care and enjoy life. What? Seriously?

  Sadness and disgust raced through me. He’s a fucking asshole. How could I have believed he would be anything but that?

  I had known the situation when I’d signed up, but him… He didn’t have the balls to say good-bye? What a jerk. Crazy enough, I hated myself more than I hated him. I should have known better than to fall in love with him. My alpha male existed all right, but he’d slipped through my fingers. Most likely because I wasn’t good enough. I never had been.

  “What a fucking coward,” I mumbled as I screwed up the note. “He has his toys and stuff, and he thinks that makes him a big man. We’ll fuck you, Charles. You’re nothing. You mean nothing.” Tears blurred my vision. My lies were stupid, and I felt like an idiot for saying them to the empty air around me. He did matter…a lot.

  I read it again, and again. What went through his mind as he scribbled it, and why did he actually leave a note? Why did he not just leave and have someone wait for me? This confused me even more and made me even angrier inside.

  I stormed back up the stairs and started to pack my things. I fumed at myself as I shoved my things into my bag. I was angry, and the thought that he had just used me as a little naïve slut for his enjoyment hit me. It was a moment of clarity. I realized that was the way I had acted. I had bent to his every whim and done things that were, at the end of the day, very fucking sluttish, especially considering he was a total stranger.

  I went all dizzy and rested my hand on the bed. A feeling stirred deep in my stomach the more I thought about being his slave and his slut. The urge got the better of me, and I rushed to the toilet. I puked my guts up, and tears streamed from my eyes as the enormity of what we had done hit me. Nancy had been right all along. I had just totally fucking ignored it.

  My stomach wretched, and I puked until all that remained was yellow bile. I felt sick, and I was disappointed with myself too. Yet I could not just wipe him from my mind. I turned on the shower and tried to wash away the weekend, but thoughts flooded back to me of the little moments when I had actually thought he’d cared.

  The times he had scooped me into his strong arms and held me close. This was not how I had seen it going, especially after last night. It was all fucked up, and all because of one stupid little note.

  I headed down to the beach for the last time and sat on the jetty while I waited for the boat to arrive. The whole time, I played back the weekend and tried to console myself and tell myself I had been justified in my actions. I even tried to use the Jaguar that would be waiting in the car lot as an excuse for my actions…my little slutty actions, but even that was not enough. The feelings were much deeper inside me.

  I stared at the ocean and saw a speedboat arriving; at least I could leave this place behind me quickly and get back to the safety of home. It was Jonathan who slowly steered the boat to the jetty. Then he waved at me, but I had no fucking interest in waving to him, because he had known what would happen on the island. He was a part of it.

  “Hi, Elizabeth. How are you?” he asked as he placed my things in the boat.

  “You know exactly how I am, so cut the bullshit!” I replied.

  We headed off across the ocean, back toward the harbor. The sun started to get lower as we neared home.

  “I should open my mouth about this. It’s not right. I should tell everyone what he’s like,” I said in a pissed tone.

  “That is not very wise, Elizabeth. You know you signed the NDA,” Jonathon said.

  “Fuck the NDA. The story with the media would be stronger than that,” I replied as I raised my voice.

  “Well, whatever you do, you should think wisely. Don’t forget the mess your dad is in and that Charles was serious about your dad’s job loss,” Jonathan said.

  “Fuck my dad. I never asked to be a part of this,” I snarled. “It was forced upon me. I just helped an alcoholic out of a sticky mess. So much for one good turn deserves another. Look where that has fucking gotten me.”

  “You do know it should not have gone like this. It was not planned,” Jonathan said as he faced me.

  “You're just as fucking bad as he is! He’s a perverted piece of shit, and everyone should know it!” I shouted. “You must know what he gets up to behind closed doors. I’m going to speak to someone. I’m sure there will be someone who will want to pay attention to my story. I’ll tell everything. I’ll spill my guts on the whole thing.”

  “It doesn’t work like that, unfortunately. Don’t forget, Charles has billions and more lawyers than you would want to come up against. Please save yourself the heartache and kill whatever you’re thinking of doing,” he said.

  I decided to shut my mouth for the remainder of the trip, yet my mind turned the events over and over as I tried to make sense of it all. The sun was setting as we arrived back at pier twenty-one, and Jonathan moored the boat before we headed toward the parking lot.

  “Here. Your dad said to give you these,” Jonathan said as he handed me some car keys.

  I arrived in the parking lot, and there was the Jaguar convertible that Dad had promised me. I had to admit, the car was beautiful, yet it meant nothing now. It just seemed like transportation that had four wheels. After all, it was just a fucking car.

  I threw my bag inside and got behind the wheel. I placed my hands on the steering wheel and burst into tears. What had I done so wrong? Had I been such a stupid girl who could not listen to anyone? And one too tempted by materialistic things? I had been blinded by everything that glittered, and now I felt like I had been blinded by love as well.

  I drove home in tears and saw that the apartment light was on as I pulled into the parking lot. Nancy must be home. I got out of the car and slowly climbed the stairs to the apartment.

  “Hi, Nanc...” I started to say as I entered. Seeing my dad sitting at the table made the words die.

  The room smelled of stale bourbon, and he looked
like shit. “Hi, Lizzy. Nice to see you home,” he said.

  “Don’t you fucking dare speak to me!” I shouted.

  “I just—”

  I cut him off mid-sentence as I walked behind the kitchen counter, the anger building up inside me. And yes, it was all his fault; he had fucked everything up because of his stupidity and his drinking.

  “Get out!” I said in a low voice.

  “I want to make it right,” he replied.

  I saw red. How the fuck could he make this right? Would he say “here’s some money” or what? God, my life had been turned upside down, and he wanted to try to make it right.

  “Go on then. Explain, Dad. How do you propose to put your fucking mess right? Answer me that!” I shouted.

  “Well, I-I—”

  “You can’t. You have no way to make this right! You’re too busy staring at the bottom of a fucking bottle and fucking your job up in the process,” I snarled. “And now you have just gone and fucked my life up as well!”

  I looked at him and saw that tears had started to well up in his eyes. He had been a broken man before, and now he was about to become a complete wreck.

  “Lizzy, I love you,” he stuttered as he started to stand.

  “Don’t you dare fucking say you love me. You ignored me and then came fucking begging. You knew all this would happen,” I shouted as I placed my hand on a mug.

  Dad started to walk toward me, and I threw the first mug at him.

  “Get out!” I shouted as I released the mug, which flew past his head and smashed into the wall.

  He looked shocked. “But, Lizzy,” he said as he continued to approach.

  I grabbed another mug and launched it in Dad’s direction. It was quickly followed by a couple of plates and dishes, each one wide of its intended target and finding a new home halfway up the wall, where it smashed into a myriad of pieces. The whole scene must have looked like a Greek wedding. Opa, motherfucker!

  “Just fucking get out, and don’t come back,” I snarled as I rested my hands on the counter and cried.

 

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