“You’re not my boyfriend, Josh, and you won’t be ever again,” she snarled, ignoring Jemima punching the air in support, clearly glad Avery was finally telling him off. “So stop pretending we are something, OK.”
He looked like a wounded puppy but Avery refused to feel bad. He’d used that look too many times to manipulate her in the past. No wonder he thought she had no backbone. “But, Ave-”
“No. No ‘but Ave’ anything. I am going back down to the dance floor and if you follow me and try to dance up my butt again, so help me God I will kick you in the nuts.”
She swept past him hurriedly and down the stairs, hearing Sarah rushing to catch up with her. Once on the dance floor Sarah gazed at her wide-eyed, clearly desperate to laugh. Avery threw her a sheepish shrug, wondering where that blast of anger had come from, and then hi-fived the hand Sarah held up to her. They burst out laughing. God, telling Josh off had felt so good. Chuckling, she spun around letting the music take over again, stripping her life down to just this moment, on this floor, with this music in the air.
A little while later she felt a tug on her arm and Sarah was gesturing at her. She leaned in and Sarah yelled in her ear, “Hey! That guy is here. He’s staring at you again!” She pointed through the crowds and Avery followed her gaze to the tall, dark scarred guy across the room. This time when she looked he didn’t look away. Their eyes locked and Avery’s heart began racing like crazy, a hot tingling flush completely different from the heat she felt from the dance floor seized a hold of her, and for a minute she couldn’t breathe, the sound of the music growing muffled, like she was under water or something. And then she blinked and he was gone, the hotness disappearing with him. She took a huge gulp of air and turned to Sarah wide-eyed.
“You OK?” Sarah shouted, looking concerned. “He’s really creepy, Avery. And he looks really dangerous all scarred up like that. Maybe we should tell someone!”
Avery managed a weak shake of her head, not entirely sure what had just happened to her. But the last thing she wanted was drawing attention to the situation. Trembling, she had to force her body to respond to the music again until eventually her muscles relaxed into it, her heart racing at a normal speed for the exertion she was putting it through. At some point Sarah told her she was going to get another drink and Avery threw her a nod in response before spinning back into the throng of dancers, not caring she was alone; she just closed her eyes and let the music sluice over her.
The beat of the Black-Eyed Peas began to wind down as the mix of the next song seeped into it, and Avery opened her eyes in disappointment as Paul Weller’s You Do Something to Me came on. She wasn’t the only one confused by the song choice, but pretty soon people shrugged it off and coupled up, swaying to the sexy romance of the music.
Avery sighed and turned on her heel, intending to leave the dance floor. She walked straight into a brick wall of a chest. This beautiful, fresh woodsy smell fluttered up her nose and she tilted her head back slowly, her eyes taking in the dark suit, crisp white shirt, the broad-shoulders, the strong jaw. And then that face. That scar. For a moment she could look at nothing else. It was so deep the skin around it seeming to curl into itself, slightly red compared the paleness of the rest of his face. It was a hateful disfigurement. It was hard to see past it. But as that unfamiliar heat crawled up from her lower belly Avery managed to unglue her eyes from the scar and catch his gaze. His eyes bored into her with an intensity that freaked her out. His eyes were black. Jet black. Fragments of light flickering and reflecting back at her from them. Now that she wasn’t so transfixed by the scar she could see he was older than her by the sharp, strong planes of his face. He was so pale. And that scar… she shivered.
He scared the crap out of her.
“May I have this dance?” He asked in a soft accent she couldn’t quite place – it sounded English but it wasn’t.
Her jaw dropped. Creepy scarred guy wanted to dance with her? She felt her throat closing as she glanced around. Just as she feared, people were watching. Her heart began to escalate as the old irrational terror came back. Her aunt had tried to get her to see a psychiatrist about it but that would mean someone being completely focused on her and well… wasn’t that really the whole fruit of her fear. Avery felt a panic attack come on as people grimaced at her for talking with creepy scar guy.
But then he touched her wrist.
Delicious heat, like dipping into a hot bath on a cold, rainy day, rushed up her arm and her chest opened, her heart slowed. Turning back to him his face was still taut but his eyes seemed… kind? Calm flooded over her, and despite her fear Avery found herself nodding. Why am I nodding? She asked herself distantly. He slowly reached out and placed a strong hand on her waist, drawing her close. Her breath hitched in her throat as she raised her arm, placing one hand on his shoulder and the other in his left hand. Her tiny hand got lost in his huge one and he smiled softly at her, knocking the rest of the air out of her body. She was so sure he was hideous but when he smiled… the scar seemed inconsequential.
His wicked smile widened. “Breathe,” he whispered softly, and pulled her tight against him so that her head rested against his shoulder. She shuddered as he breathed her in, positive he must feel her heart thumping against his chest. The hand at her waist slid gently up and down her spine and she shivered, wanting to burrow closer to him. The hot tingles unfurled across her body and she felt this overwhelming need to melt into him. Even as her mind told her he frightened her, repulsed her even, a fog of intoxication descended around her as they moved perfectly together. Her mouth quirked up in surprise as he repeated the lyrics to the song in her ear. In that moment all she wanted were those lips of his on hers.
No, she jerked back, shivering at the thought. She didn’t really want this creep anywhere near her right?
He tugged her back, almost as if he knew what she was thinking, his hands tightening around her angrily. “This is right,” he growled in her ear.
It was, wasn’t it? She thought, her heart picking up pace again. She was frightened again. Because now this weird stranger seemed so familiar.
An upbeat dance track merged into the last chords of the song and a gust of cold air blew across Avery’s skin. She blinked, opening her eyes, gobsmacked to find she was dancing alone, the dark scarred guy nowhere to be seen.
***
“Seriously, girl, I thought Josh was going to bust a blood vessel.” Jemima chuckled drunkenly as the cab driver headed towards Avery’s apartment. “Did you dance with that ugly guy just to piss him off?”
Avery shrugged, smiling weakly, feeling a little sick. “I don’t know.”
Sarah nudged her with her shoulder, her blue eyes concerned. “I dunno if you should have danced with him, Ave. He’s really… ugh… and I think he may have paid the DJ to play that song just so he could dance with you.”
She flinched at her friend’s unkind words. But hadn’t she been thinking the same? God, they were all so shallow. So what, she argued with herself, frowning. Scarred guy had drawn a huge amount of attention to her by dancing with her and she was furious. Every time she thought about it she shuddered in horror. He deserved the cruel words.
“Did you guys see where he went?” She asked softly, her rational mind telling her that no person alive could move that fast.
“Nah,” Sarah replied, “I’m just glad he left. You didn’t give him your number, did you?”
Avery shook her head, refusing to acknowledge what felt like a twang of disappointment in her chest.
“Oh my God, Ave!” Jemima squealed gesticulating wildly in her JD infused haze. “You should have got his digits! He may be creepy ass but there’s something kinda sexy about the idea of doing it with him! I’d bet he’d be super grateful, if you know what I mean!”
Avery grimaced at all the squealing in the cramped cab. “Can you make it stop?” She pleaded with Sarah, gesturing to Jemima.
“Yeah, can you?” The cabbie groaned.
Sarah giggl
ed and patted Jemima’s arm. “Jammy, babe, you wanna lower the tone a little huh? You’re deafening children in Africa.”
“Pfft!” She waved them off before promptly thumping her head back against the seat, her eyes slamming shut.
“Wow,” Avery whispered, “You’re like a witch or something.”
Sarah giggled again and then began telling her to ignore Jemima. There was nothing sexy about some built stalker guy who has a knife slash across half his face.
Avery was so thankful when the cabbie pulled up outside her apartment. She needed to get away from all the lecturing and questions. She needed to get away from thinking about that weird guy and the way he made her feel. Like she wasn’t who she thought she was. Like she was meant for something else. God, was there anything more traumatising than an identity crisis? Yeah, no, she definitely didn’t need that right now.
As per usual she offered Sarah some money for their expensive cab trip but Sarah shook her head adamantly. Too tired to argue, Avery said goodbye and hurried up to her apartment.
“Avery, that you?” Her aunt’s soft voice called to her as she moved around the sitting room, kicking off her heels and stretching her feet out flat against the cold wooden floors.
“Ahh, that feels good,” she murmured before hurrying into her aunt’s room. Her Aunt Caroline was still awake, her book opened on her lap. “You can’t sleep?”
“I wanted to see if you had a good night.” She smiled softly at her.
Avery clucked her tongue reprovingly. “Aunt Caroline, you should be asleep.”
“Did you have a good time?”
At which part? She felt like asking. The part where I told off my ex-boyfriend or the part where I slow danced with the ugliest, sexy guy I’ve ever met?
“Yeah, I had a good time.”
“Did you dance?”
She grinned. “Of course. You know I love to dance.”
Cold Breeze Cutting Through
the Summer Air
The following month wasn’t a great one. Aunt Caroline underwent another round of palliative chemo and spent the next few days suffering from severe fatigue. Avery stayed home from work so they lost more income. That didn’t matter so much as how strange Aunt Caroline was starting to look, kind of bloated as well as emaciated at the same time, if that were even possible.
When she was starting to feel a little stronger her aunt told the doctors she wasn’t going to have any more chemo. They didn’t argue with her. Avery wanted to but it was selfish to ask Aunt Caroline to go through the ordeal of it all just so she wouldn’t have to live without her for an extra couple of months.
Weirdly the decision seemed to put a spring in Caroline’s step. Finally facing the cancer, facing the inevitably of her death, had lifted a weight off her shoulders and the last week of the month she had been strong enough to go to the market – they’d even gone to a movie together. She was exhausted afterwards but there was colour in her cheeks again.
Nightclub night came around as quickly as it always did and for once Avery wasn’t as worried about her aunt. Her friend, Stacey, from Greener World Magazine had come over with some wine and Caroline had said “to hell with it” and was forgoing her meds to have some. She was a grown woman. Avery wasn’t going to argue with her. She left the two of them giggling at the television in the sitting room and ventured out to find Sarah waiting for her. Jemima had a modelling job the next day and was on a 24 hour fast because of it - it involved no alcohol and an early night in bed. Josh still wasn’t talking to her, and Aaron and Adam were on a double date with a brother and sister (Avery refused to get into their complicated dating life), so it was just her and Sarah tonight. Avery didn’t mind. Sarah was the only one who seemed to be as addicted to the dance floor anyway.
They hopped in a cab, Avery thankful she’d worn skinny jeans and a leather jacket tonight, considering the bitter wind blowing in from the north east. They were early so there wasn’t much of a line outside and it wasn’t long until they were inside 4.0 sipping mojitos at a table in the corner. As soon as Jennifer Lopez’s On the Floor came on Avery was shrugging out of her jacket and dragging Sarah up to dance. Like always, she was lost, carelessly dancing with random guys and girls who were enjoying the beat as much as she was. But somehow as the hours crept along she began to miss something. And then she choked, coming to a stop when she realised what it was. There was no familiar prickling sensation tonight. She spun around, searching the crowds and the club for tall, dark scarred guy - the tall, dark scarred guy she was afraid to admit had crossed her mind more often than he should have this past month. Huh. He wasn’t here tonight.
Of course he isn’t, Avery snorted inwardly, it’s not like he’s stalking me or anything and only comes to this club on the nights I’m here.
“You OK?!” Sarah shouted over the music, her brow creased with concern.
“I’m fine!” She shrugged it off and continued to dance. But the rest of the evening was somehow poisoned by the thought of him not being there. Avery felt a little sick. Which was just so weird… considering the guy scared the crap out of her.
Sarah didn’t seem to notice how distracted Avery was and they danced on into the night. They burst out of the club just after 1am, people milling around outside. There were no cabs.
“We’ll have to walk a little, I think,” Sarah grumbled.
Avery groaned, the blue stilettos she had borrowed from Sarah pinching. Giving into her fate she tucked her arm into Sarah’s and they strolled down the street together, not surprised by how busy it was even at this time of night. Just as they made it out of the busier section, Avery felt an alien chill rush over her at the sight of three people ahead of them. Two guys and a girl. The girl stood in between the guys who were clearly facing off, their bodies bristling with aggression.
“Jake, cut it out!” the girl screamed, trying to pull the taller of the two men away.
“Oh God,” Sarah muttered, “Domestic.”
Avery tugged on her arm, somehow desperate to get to them. “Come on.”
“Avery…”
They grew closer, the two guys shouting in each other’s faces now, the girl having been pushed away from them.
“You think you’re a tough guy?!” the shorter of the two screamed, spittle dripping from his lips. “Yeah, let’s see how tough you are now!” There was a flash of silver and then he seemed to punch the Jake guy in the stomach. But as the girl screamed and Jake fell to his knees, Avery came to a stop, bile rising in her throat at the sight of the bloody knife pulling back from its attack on Jake’s body. The short guy brandished it at the girl. “Told you not to mess with Dominic! Bitch!” The guy spat and then he took off at a run.
“Oh my God, oh my God!” Sarah was trembling as the girl screamed over her boyfriend’s body. “Avery, oh my God!”
Avery pushed past the fear gnawing at her gut and hurried over to the girl. The girl looked up at her, tears streaming down her face, mascara all over her cheeks. “Help me!” She sobbed, her hands shaking, covered in blood.
Jake lay on the ground, clutching his stomach, his white t-shirt completely soaked through with blood as it spread at a worrying pace. He shuddered in little starts that told Avery he was going into shock. Shit!
“Sarah, call 911!” Avery yelled over her shoulder and then pulled off her leather jacket. She whipped her top off, goosebumps erupting across her skin in the cold night air. Quickly, with trembling fingers, she pulled the jacket back on and zipped it up. Her top she balled up and pressed to Jake’s wound to try and staunch the bleeding. He cried out at the pressure.
“It’s OK,” Avery assured him, breathing too fast. “It’ll help, Jake. It is Jake, right?”
“It’s Jake,” the girl answered, shaking hysterically.
“They’re on their way.” Sarah cast a shadow over them. Avery looked up at her, noting a couple of people who now stood to the side, pale and in shock, watching them. Sarah was crying.
A prickle caught at
the back of Avery’s neck and her heart seemed to stop. Slowly she turned and stared across the street. She gasped. Tall, dark scarred guy was standing on the opposite sidewalk, pale and serious - his dark eyes fixed intently on Jake. There was a sense of finality about him. He sighed heavily, putting his hands into the pockets of his black wool coat before he turned away from them, slowly striding out of sight.
And somehow Avery knew without looking down that the ambulance wasn’t going to make it in time.
Jake was already gone.
I’m Going to Watch you
While you get me Wrong
The next few weeks were not good. Her aunt had deteriorated quickly, whether it was the shock of finding out Avery was a witness in a murder investigation, or the cancer had decided to take hold with a vengeance, Avery didn’t know. Despite Avery and Sarah’s descriptions, the guy who had killed Jake hadn’t been found because Jake’s so-called girlfriend swore she didn’t know who had done it. She was clearly afraid of whoever was behind it and Avery knew she probably should be too. Instead she was a bundle of emotions: surprised that her irrational fear of being centre of attention had dissipated during the events of that night, despite the crowds that had gathered around to watch her huddle with a grieving girl and her dead boyfriend, and despite being the focus of attention from a few police officers. As well as that she was furious. A blood-boiling anger lived inside her for the stupid idiot with his knife… and tall, dark scarred guy. It was irrational. Impossible. But somehow Avery felt he was responsible too somehow.
Avery sighed, leaning against the doorframe of her aunt’s bedroom, watching the soft rise and fall of her chest. Aunt Caroline was sleeping a lot lately. Her energy was just… non-existent. Avery hadn’t been into work at all this week. She felt her throat closing, the muscles working painfully to stop the spill of tears and the sob that was desperate to wrench out of her. Tonight she’d actually had to help her aunt bathe. Her capable, beautiful aunt. The truth of it all made Avery want to throw up. It looked like Caroline had less time than they’d thought.
Drip Drop Teardrop, a Novella Page 2