by Amity Cross
"I wanted to die. I tried to kill myself," he said, shame flooding his features that were usually so strong. "I didn't understand that that's what I was trying to do, not until after… I lied to you, Blair. After your father-"
"West." I placed a hand over his, suppressing a shudder at the contact. "You don't have to hash it out again. I heard the interview. I heard you."
"But-"
"You're not my father. You're nothing like him, so don't go comparing yourself."
"I could've dragged you down with me-"
"You're strong now. You better fucking believe it when I say there was no chance of taking me with you, Dark and Dangerous."
He turned his chin up so he could look me in the eye and he was so fucking vulnerable and open that I finally understood exactly how much power I had over him.
"Why do you call me that?" he asked.
"It fits you," I said with a shrug, my anger starting to dissipate. "Not for the reasons you're probably thinking."
"Then why?"
Casting my gaze across the room and out the window at the grey sky, I remembered that night in that nondescript bar in Melbourne. I'd been looking for a quick fuck to take off the edge, but got a whirlwind of shit and crap and so much more in return. West slid his hand over my knee and gave it a small squeeze.
"Dark, because of your eyes. You get this look when you're turned on." He cocked his head to the side, a small grin pulling at his perfect fucking mouth. "Dangerous, because you look like a hoodlum with your abundance of thuggish tattoos. And…" I trailed off, not knowing how to explain the last part.
"And what?" he whispered.
"Dangerous because...because of what you do to me," I paused holding my hand over my heart, "in here."
West let out a low hiss, the only thing that gave away how deep my words had hit him. He wanted this, right? He wanted me to love him, but I wasn't sure it was what I was feeling.
He reached out with trembling fingers and I let him trace the contours of my face, his touch causing my skin to ache. I sat there and stared at him for the longest time, drank in his chocolate eyes that were so full of pain, regret, sorrow…love. I stared at him, trying to understand everything that was flying through my heart. I knew what he wanted, but what did I want?
My story had stopped the moment I got on that plane in Melbourne. Mine had stopped and it had been all about him ever since. I still didn't know who the fuck Blair Hayden was.
"It would be so easy," I said, trying to resist the urge to reach out and touch him again. "It would be so easy to say yes and stay. But I still don't know who I am and what I'm meant to do."
"Blair." He sighed, cupping my face.
"I'm still worried that your life is too big for a small time woman like me."
"You have no idea what you're capable of, B. My life is too small for you. You-" He paused, taking in a slow, deep breath. "You deserve the universe and everything beyond."
"Fuck, and you say you don't do the romance thing."
He lowered his lips toward mine, his gaze flickering down and then back up. "Just one more taste, wildcat. Please."
He brushed his lips against mine and my entire body shuddered at the slight contact. When the tip of his tongue lightly teased my skin, moisture began to pool between my legs. Fuck, this man ignited a fire inside of me - a dangerous fire I was afraid would consume me in all the wrong ways.
I parted my lips, granting him what he wanted and he took willingly, sliding his tongue against mine, kissing me with so much tenderness I felt like I was falling apart. Pulling back, he rested his forehead against mine and sighed.
Closing my eyes, I whispered, "That out there. The circus…I was nobody. I'm drowning, West."
"Then let me save you."
Pulling away, I stumbled to my feet, flight mode trying to switch itself on.
"Please," he said, the desperate tone in his voice tugging at my heart. "Stay, Blair. I love you. Don't tell me you can't feel it too."
"You have to trust me, West." I took a step backward toward the door. "Trust me to make the right decision. I don't know what it is, but you need to let go and trust. I need to work this out on my own without the circus following my every move."
He was looking at me like someone had stamped on his sandcastle - like someone had ripped his heart clean from his chest cavity. Maybe I had, but it was my turn at telling this story. West's chapter was over and was time for my point of view.
I turned my back to him, unable to watch his face crumble any more. When I opened the door he didn't follow, he didn't say a word. The door closed behind me, separating us, and it was like I'd just severed an artery. I'd either bleed out or find a way to cauterize the wound. Who knew which one was going to win out in the end? I sure as fuck didn't.
That night, or was it that morning, I sat in bed, the TV on mute as it played some cable music channel. It bathed the room in that eerie artificial glow, but I couldn't focus on any of it. Even when our song, Wildcat (I'm in Love), came on, I was numb to it.
I didn't know what it was like to have a broken heart, but I was sure this was pretty close. After Blair had left back in Rome and the months that had followed, I had something to work toward. Everything had been in my hands, in my control, and now? Chaos ruled. I had to trust her. I had to.
There was a long list of stupid decisions I'd made over the years. A whole pile of them that I'd been drowning in and I'd finally grown the balls to acknowledge my shortcomings…all of them. Blair didn't know who she was, but neither did I. I was changing, growing, and I wanted to do it with her. We could work it out together and if we stumbled, catch each other along the way.
Fuck. I just needed to hear a kind voice. Be fucked with the reassurances. Faith. Hope. Love.
Even as a grown man, there was still one person I wanted to speak to. One person who could soothe me, even though they were half a world away. One person who I hoped still loved me unconditionally.
Before I chickened out, I picked up my phone and dialed the number.
I heard her voice over the line a few beats later and it was the most familiar thing I knew. I'd know her voice anywhere and it was exactly what I wanted to hear.
"Mum?"
"Jake? Is that you?"
"Yeah."
"Sweetie, it's good to hear from you. You know how much it irritates me when you don't call for months. I know you're a super famous rock star and what not, but I'm still your mother."
Fucking hell, it used to irritate me when she went on like that, but right then I loved her to pieces. "How's Dad?"
"He's fine. Still going a million miles an hour. He's out with Joe's Dad at the RSL."
"They still go down to that dirty pub?" I asked, realizing it must be Tuesday night in Australia. Tuesday night was Dad's night to hit the pub and he went every week like clockwork.
"Every week, Jake. You know them old codgers. Listen," she said pausing for a moment, "is everything okay? We've seen the papers, sweetie. We saw your interview on the tellie last night. Jake…" She sounded like she was about to cry. "We had no idea. None. I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault, Mum. It was mine, but don't worry yourself about it, okay? I'm getting better. I'm getting help."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Did you get her back? This Blair woman?"
Her question blindsided me. It wasn't like my Mum to be so forward about these things. She was a tough country woman, hard as nails, took no bullshit, but she never asked me about my girlfriends before. It had been my Dad's job to threaten me with the hedge clippers if my dick wandered into the wrong hole.
"Jake?"
I shook my head, but realizing that didn't translate well on a telephone call I said, "No. Not yet."
"Well, I'm glad you said not yet. She might come round, especially after what you said."
"I've said my piece and now it's up to her."
"Do you really love her?"
"Yes."
"Sweetie?"
"Yeah, Mum?"
"We're proud of you, you know. Your father and I."
"Thanks, Mum. Love you. I'll see you soon okay? I'll come see you as soon as I can."
"You better or there'll be hell to pay," she said with a sad laugh. "I hope that you can bring Blair with you. We'd love to meet her."
"So do I." I hung up the phone and rubbed my eyes, embarrassed at the lump that was beginning to choke the back of my throat. I kinda really wanted to go home for a while.
I thought I'd been through some tough shit in my life. Getting a record deal. Going on tour. Dealing with paparazzi. Coping with my drug addiction. Learning to live with my epic mistakes. But none of those things were as hard as waiting for Blair to come back to me…if she came back at all.
Trust. That's what this entire thing was about, right? I had to finally trust her enough to switch off and stop trying to control everything. Blair had trusted me unconditionally before we went to shit. Now it was my turn to meet her half way. Fuck half way - it had to be all the way.
Confusion didn't suit me.
Neither did fear, but the longer I wallowed in both of them, the faster I was circling the drain. Eventually, I'd be sucked down the plughole and back into old destructive behaviors.
Rolling out of bed, I packed up my few belongings and closed the door to my bedroom for the last time. I wasn't really a raging bitch anymore, so I decided to do the right thing and leave a note and a wad of cash to cover rent for a couple of weeks. An explanation for my sudden disappearance.
I walked down Holloway Road towards the tube station, my suitcase rolling behind me. The morning air was crisp and full of icicles that promised a cold winter to come. Standing at the corner, waiting for the traffic lights to change, my breath billowed out white clouds in front of me. I was in transit again and this time it didn't have a schedule attached to it or a ticket with a destination.
When I reached the tube station, I swiped my Oyster card, pushed through the barrier and squashed into the lift. I rode it down to the platform, wondering where I was going to get off. I could ride this line all the way to Heathrow and get on a flight to anywhere in the world. I could get off at Kings Cross and St Pancras and get on the Eurostar. I could do whatever I wanted.
Getting off at Kings Cross, I went upstairs and found a storage locker and squashed my suitcase inside and slammed the door closed. I just wanted to see it one last time. The places I was meant to see when I came back. There were some loose ends that needed tying
I went back down into the Underground and found myself at Westminster amongst a throng of suits, politician types and tourists. Letting the crowd sweep me along, I made it to the surface and took a deep breath. Across the street were the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben and I looked up, shielding my eyes from the rare burst of sunshine above. Walking along the street, I made my way across Westminster Bridge, eyeing a stand selling cheap British themed souvenirs.
Leaning against the railing, I looked over the edge into the Thames as it rushed by below, all grey and choppy. It was an accurate description of my current state of mind. Crowds of tourists passed behind me, taking photos of Big Ben and across the river, pictures of the London Eye.
London really was a magical place, so full of history and life. I remembered being in the car with West, my face plastered against the window, watching the city go past. My first time in a plane, my first time in another country. He'd said to me that I'd thrive here. That in London there was a place for everyone, no matter who you were and where you'd come from.
My throat began to ache as a lump formed and I drew in a deep breath to settle it. I hadn't found my place and maybe I never would.
Pulling out my phone, I called the shop. There was no way in hell I was going back there and I wondered how the owner, Howard the crusty old pervert, would take my abrupt departure. Probably with all the good graces of a volcano.
"Hey, bitch," Lucy said, when she picked up.
"Hey, is Howard there?"
"Yep, want me to get him? You're not calling in sick again are you?"
"Nup. Fucking quitting. Sorry."
"Blair," she shrieked and I had to hold the phone away from my ear.
"Fuck, calm down."
"Why are you leaving me? It's that rocker guy, West, isn't it?"
"Something like that," I replied, grimacing.
"We all know you're his wildcat." She made a purring sound and I found myself smiling despite myself.
"I've got shit to sort out, Lucy. I can't do it here, so it's time to move on."
"I'm gunna miss you, bitch."
The notion of Lucy the uber goth missing a hard case like me was a tough act to swallow. But for all of Lucy's faults, she was probably the closest thing I'd had to a female friend in my entire life. "Fuck, you'll see me again. I'll come back and visit."
"Totally won't."
"Whatever. Put Howard on so he can blast me already."
"Fuck, the old codger's gunna have a melt down. This is gunna be ace."
There was a rustling sound as Lucy put down the phone and a moment later, Howard was on the line.
"Blair," came his gravelly voice. "Where the fuck are you?"
"Howard," I said. "I quit."
"You what?"
"I fucking quit," I yelled into the phone, causing a few passers by to stop and stare. Pressing the end call button, I shoved the phone in my pocket and heaved a sigh of relief. Fucking A. I never knew quitting a job I cared absolute zero about was so liberating. Not since the day I'd run out of the tattoo shop I'd worked in in Melbourne had I felt so free of responsibility. That was the day West saved me from potential rape from my slimy cocksucker of a boss, Tim. We hardly knew each other, but he'd risked a fuck load to get me away. Fucking ironic that I kept getting jobs with bosses that were creepy slime balls.
I didn't know a great deal about life. Not the happy parts, the hurt and the trials…I knew all about those bits and I was sick of them. My life could be full of all the things I wanted or I could travel down paths well worn and be empty as I'd always been. All I knew was that I'd made up my mind. There was no going back, not this time. This time it was forever.
Flowing with the crowd, I made my way back to the tube station and got on the next train that sped along the platform. Squashing in against the far door, I held onto the pole as the train rumbled through the tunnels underneath London. I got off at Kings Cross and fought my way through the throng of commuters back to the locker to retrieve my suitcase.
Just one more ride on the tube and hopefully I'd never have to get back on. This was a one way trip to a fucking scary as shit destination and I hoped I was making the right choice. It felt right. The doors slid open and before I lost my nerve, I stepped off onto the platform at Green Park, my suitcase thumping down the step behind me.
On the surface, the media were still out the front of the hotel blocking the street, so traffic was banked up. Taxis and busses were at a crawl past the vans and barriers that hadn't moved since the day before. The cops were still there, directing pedestrians to the opposite side of the road. Last time, Sasha had met me at the station and led me through the service entry and I'd escaped detection. This time, I wouldn't be so lucky.
I approached the barrier, a cop looking me over and I pointed to the hotel. "I'm a guest, can I get through?"
"Good luck," he replied with a shrug and moved the gaudy orange barrier to the side.
A few photographers turned to watch my approach and I saw recognition begin to light up their eyes. Fuck, and I was only ten meters from the door where the doorman was also watching me like a hawk.
I pretended to look past them on the street, like I was trying to find someone, then I began pointing to the opposite end of the block and shrieked at the top of my lungs, "Oh my god! Is that Jake West?"
The entire media scrum came to life and it was a frenzy of activity, all of them visibly frothing at the mouth wanting to get the shot. While they were di
stracted, I slipped into the hotel lobby, the doorman giving me a chuckle.
"Well played, Miss Blair."
"You recognized me?" I asked.
"Yes. I saw you here yesterday with Sasha Montgomery. I let you in the back door."
"That was you?" I exclaimed. "I was off with the fairies."
"Understandable." He offered a friendly smile.
"You know it's all a little weird. I'm just a chick."
"Some fairytale, huh?"
I grimaced at the notion of being Cinderella. West was far from being Prince Charming, but we were our own kind of dysfunctional - if dysfunctional was a puzzle piece that fit with a prickly exterior.
The doorman nodded toward the elevators. "So, are you going to take him back? Is that why you're here?"
I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my thrumming body. Nervousness, excitement, fear, adrenalin…who the fuck knew. I gave the doorman a shrug and wheeled my trusty suitcase to the bank of elevators. "Swipe me up, would you?"
"Right away."
I rode the car up to the same floor as yesterday, my fingers tightening around the handle on my suitcase. When the elevator door opened with a cheery little ding, I was relieved that the hallway was empty. Walking towards his room, I swallowed the hard lump of fear that was threatening to overwhelm me. Of course this was scary. I'd taken a leap of faith before, but this was the biggest one yet. He wanted me, he wouldn't turn me away. He loved me...
Stopping outside his room, I let the handle of my suitcase go and knocked on the door. Three short raps for luck.
A moment later, the door opened and there he was. Like always, seeing West was like a kick in the gut. He took my breath away and finally, I knew I'd made the right decision. When I saw him, I knew.
"I love you," I said before I knew it was coming.
He just stood there, staring at me like he couldn't believe I was outside his door. Shrugging, I asked, "Where we going first?" He still didn't move, so I said something that I knew would light his fire. "You better fuck me good, Dark and Dangerous, because I haven't had anyone but my right hand for three months."