by Amy Daws
“Finley’s heart was never on the market…no matter how much she wanted it to be.” His words sound painfully familiar. “And then Liam does what he always does. He plays the part of the nice boy and tried to fix everything.”
“What do you mean? What’s wrong with that?”
Frank looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully for a moment before replying. “The boy has trouble asserting himself. I know that something in his past gutted him to the point where he just seems to let life happen around him. He seems to cope with obstacles by being a pawn for someone, instead of a rook or a bishop. Instead of taking charge and going at it head first himself. He’s a helpful lad. But that kindness of his never seems to get him anywhere.” Frank pauses and grins cheekily. “I think he just needs to grab a good ‘ol handful of hairy balls and man up.”
I cringe at his choice of phrase when he suddenly leans forward, piercing me with his brown eyes. The two crinkles rippling perfectly between his brows. “As I said, Liam is a good bloke.”
“Agreed,” I reply dropping my chin to return his glare.
“I don’t want to see him hurt.”
“That makes two of us.” My voice is hard and flat. I don’t take kindly to threats, but I know that deep down Frank is just trying to be a friend. And a large part of me is glad that Liam has someone looking out for him. Even if it is a crazy ginger.
Frank’s eyes search mine for a moment and he cocks his head to the side, seeming to find what he’s looking for. “Excellent!” Frank sings cheerily, snapping me out of my reverie. “Now, let’s see what that horribly underused education can get my Taint.”
I shake my head, “I just might have some tricks up my sleeve for your taint.”
“Saucy minx! Let me see.” He snatches my bare arm up and brings it to his eyes, closely inspecting every stroke of ink on my skin. I giggle as he pulls a face like it smells. “What’s with all the sunflowers?”
“They’re kind of a tribute to a friend.”
“Was his name Sonny? Oh my God, are you a Sonny and Cher fanatic like me?” Frank’s eyes alight and I honestly can’t tell if he’s joking. “This is a serious question, Oxford. Don’t toy with my emotions!”
“No, I mean…I don’t mind them, but that’s not what this is about.”
“Bugger!” He rises from his seat. “Right. I’ve got a delivery coming. Get to work, Oxford. I expect that big brain of yours to make magic happen tonight.”
In an attempt to get the last word, I mumble quietly, “Later, Frank and Beans,” as he strides out the door.
His narrow frame reappears in the doorway. “What did you just call me?”
I school my face to remain serious. “Sorry, what’s that?”
“What did you just say…just now…as I was walking out the door.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m putting my brain to work. That’s all.” My eyes are wide and innocent.
He squints at me suspiciously. “Alright then. As you were.”
As he rounds the doorframe I say a bit louder this time, “I could really go for some Frank and Beans.”
“Bloody hell, I knew it!” His face is back and I can’t hide the ear to ear Cheshire cat grin splitting across my face. “It was fucking Finley, wasn’t it? I swear to God, Oxford…if you start calling me Frank and Beans…”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” I bite my lip playfully. “I was just thinking about what I feel like for lunch!”
“That’s a load of codswallop and you know it, you cheeky cow! I’m going to murder Fin-Bin.” I hear him continue to mumble obscenities as he makes his way down the hallway.
Just as my giggles subside my phone pings a new text notification.
Hayden: Hey…Sorry I’ve been MIA. You good?
Me: Yeah…I’m good. At work now.
Hayden: Cool. I might pop by later. I miss you. x
I clutch my phone to my chest feeling grateful that Hayden reached out again.
Me: Perfect. I’m off at 9.
Hayden: Right, I’ll swing ‘round and pick you up. Not driving, don’t worry.
Me: Not worried…and that sounds great. xx
After some strategically placed ads and social media blasts, plus a call into a huge nightclub vlogger, I feel pretty chuffed when I see a line out the door of Club Taint. We don’t open for another ten minutes.
“Well done, you.” Callum offers me a high five as I walk out the door and I proudly take it.
Grinning like a loon, I stride out the door expecting to see Hayden’s face. My breath catches when I see Liam’s tall frame leaning against the nearby bus stop bench. He’s dressed in slim gray jeans and a sexy, white, long-sleeved ribbed Henley. The sleeves are pushed up, revealing sexily firm forearms beneath.
“Hiya,” he says as I pause awkwardly looking at him.
“Hey…Are you waiting on someone?” I ask, looking behind me.
“You, actually.” He pushes himself off the bench and slides his hands into his pockets. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee or tea or something.”
“Now?” I ask, looking down at my Club Taint tank and black jeans. “I’m not exactly dressed for it.”
“We could go to my flat. I don’t live far.” He nervously gestures down the sidewalk and looks back at me hopefully.
Anxiety creeps down my neck and over my shoulders. This is what I wanted. I wanted to see how he was doing. I wanted to make sure he was okay. Why am I suddenly crippled with fear over the idea of being alone with him?
“It’s been three years, Rey…Surely you can stand to be around me for a cup of tea.” His hand finds its way to the back of his neck and scratches nervously.
I purse my lips together at that pained statement. “It’s not that, Liam. I—”
“Reyna?” Hayden’s voice cuts in from behind me. I swerve and see him standing a good ten feet away from me. He’s dressed in a pale blue button down and gray trousers. His copper blond hair is disheveled as his gray eyes are hard and penetrating the air beside me. “Liam,” he adds stiffly, looking past me.
I step back and see Liam’s posture instantly rise and I swear his chest puffs out. “Hayden. I haven’t seen you in a while. How are you?”
“Fine,” Hayden’s reply is clipped and serious. “You here with Theo?”
Liam shakes his head no. “No, I was just here to catch up with Rey.”
“That sounds nice. I’m just here to pick up Rey.” I frown at Hayden’s tone and feel instantly annoyed at what I see going down right now.
Liam nods and glances back to me, his eyes briefly drift to my lips and then he smiles. “Got it. I’ll let you get to it then.”
He turns to leave and it’s when he rounds the corner that my feet develop a mind of their own. I turn, walking backwards, “I’ll be right back, Hayden.”
Ignoring his exasperated expression, I round the same corner and see Liam’s long strides have taken him halfway down the block already. I jog to catch up to him. “Liam!” I shout, finally within earshot.
He instantly stops and turns to watch me approach. His face is marred with confusion. Once I reach him I suddenly feel ridiculous and slightly out of breath.
“Did you want something from me tonight?” I ask, finally.
“What do you mean?” His eyes squint.
“I mean, the tea. Why did you want to get tea?”
“I just wanted to catch up, Rey. I thought, stupidly, that maybe after some time had passed perhaps you and I could become friends again. Catch up. We were pretty good at being friends once upon a time.”
“I agree,” I reply, honestly.
“But, I’m not looking to step on anyone’s toes.”
“You’re not,” I reply, cutting him off. “Hayden and I are friends. Mostly. I just…didn’t want you to think…” My voice trails off, feeling uncomfortable at finishing that sentence.
His brow furrows. “Why do you care what I think?”
“I just�
�I didn’t want you to think I was lying to you before. When you came to the club last week.”
He nods seriously. “It sounds more complicated than that.”
“It usually is when it comes to me,” I offer self-deprecatingly.
He half smiles, “This I already knew.”
A moment passes between the two of us and I swear I can hear his thoughts echoing in my head.
“I won’t keep you.” He leans in and brushes my cheek with his lips and his smell fills my chest. A wanting ache fans out beneath my skin. “Have a good night, Rey,” he murmurs into my hair.
All too soon he backs away, pulling his lips into his mouth to lick. His eyes flash to my mouth before he stuffs his hands into his pockets, turns on his heel and continues down the sidewalk.
I watch him walk for longer than appropriate before turning and running back around the corner to my own personal complication.
I find Hayden slumped against the side of the building. His gray eyes are glowering at me as I approach. Silently he pushes himself off the wall and flags down a cab. He opens the door and steps back, waiting for me to enter. The cab ride is quiet and tense. Hayden tells the driver to drop us at the White Swan Pub instead of in front of my flat.
“I need a drink,” he says to my questioning eyes as he slides out of the cab. I follow in his wake, stepping inside first as he holds the door open for me. Alistair gives me a cheery wave as he’s busy tending to a large group of men.
“Are you hungry?” Hayden asks, avoiding eye contact with me.
“No, I’ll just do red wine,” I say timidly.
He nods and heads over to the bar to get our drinks and I grab a cozy red, leather booth by the latticed window. After a few minutes he’s walking back toward me with our drinks.
After a few awkward sips, I finally break the silence. “What’s got you in such a mood?”
He glares at me and tips his beer back, drinking nearly the entire contents before replying. He licks his lips and penetrates me with a hard look. “Perhaps it has to do with the fact that I came to pick up my best mate from work to find her flirting like a slut with my dead sister’s ex fiancé.”
Fiery rage unleashes in my veins. Pure, undiluted rage. Gripping my glass of wine, I toss it in Hayden’s face and yank myself out of the booth. I storm through the pub, ignoring the cheers and heckling at the scene I just created. I slam my hands into the door and fly out into the crisp, summer evening. How freaking dare he?! I turn and make my way up the dark sidewalk toward my flat.
“Rey!” Hayden shouts after a few seconds. I don’t slow a single step as he calls out again, “Rey!” His voice is laced with anger this time.
I stop just steps from my building door and turn around and pummel him with the nastiest glare I can muster. “I wasn’t sure I should answer to anything other than slut!” I exclaim, shoving his chest hard as he moves to touch me. He barely budges and it just frustrates me further.
“You alright, love?” Alistair says out of breath as he jogs up to our ridiculous scene and out of breath. His top lip curls up as he glances over to Hayden. He turns and eyes me seriously, waiting for the go ahead.
“I’m fine, Al. Nothing I can’t handle.”
He nods and turns to face Hayden. Staring up at him, Alistair says, “If you were any other bloke, I’d have you by the neck and on your knees crying out in pain right now.”
“Alistair, you don’t know—” Hayden starts.
“And I don’t want to know. You make that right.” He points back at me without breaking eye contact with Hayden. “You make that right,” he repeats ominously and strides back down the hill toward the pub.
Hayden scrubs his hands over his still damp with wine face before looking at me. “Fuck me…I’m sorry, Rey. I’m just knackered and upset. I didn’t expect to find you with him.” His blue shirt is covered in dark purple liquid. “Then you have the nerve to run after him right in front of me. How the bloody hell am I supposed to feel?”
“He used to be my friend, Hayden! I haven’t seen him for three years and he looked hurt by seeing you and me together. I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.”
“What’s the wrong idea, Rey?” he scoffs. “That you and I are together? Last I checked you’ve been shagging me for the better part of a year.”
My eyes turn to saucers. “Did I miss the part where you asked me to go steady, Hayden? Let’s not make our relationship into more than it actually is!”
“Oh, so I mean nothing to you?” he sneers.
“Of course you do! You’re my best friend! You mean everything to me. But, friends are all we are and you know that.”
“Do I?” His jaw drops in utter shock at my grand statement. His tone drips with sarcasm. “Oh please, Rey…do tell me what I apparently already know since you seem to know it all.”
“Stop, Hayden. We both said we were going to stop sleeping together over a month ago.”
“And how’s that been working out?” He steps closer to me so I have to crane my neck up to look at him. His gray eyes are determined slits as he breathes heavily down on me.
“Not well,” I croak. His close proximity confuses me as attraction swirls between us.
“Exactly. So you should forgive me for not taking kindly to seeing you fucking tart around like you’re single.”
“I am single!” I slice my fingers into my hair. “You haven’t spoken to me in a week, Hayden! Do you know how that makes me feel? Do you know how much that makes me worry? Do you even care?”
“You know better than anyone why I do that!” he roars.
“Exactly! And that right there is exactly why we said we were going to stop shagging a month ago. We don’t work, Hayden. We’ve discussed this. We just keep each other down. We’re a stifling, suffocating, sickness together. We aren’t good for each other.”
“And you think you can be good with Liam. My dead sister’s almost fiancé?”
“Stop talking about her!” I scream, covering my ears. “I can’t take it right now! It’s killing me!” His arms wrap around me as tears spill freely down my cheeks. “It’s not fair, Hayden. You never bring her up and the one time you do, you do it to hurt me.”
“I’m sorry. I know,” he murmurs into my hair. “I’m fucked up. But, honestly, Rey…Why him?”
“There’s nothing going on, Hayden,” I groan. “He just wanted to catch up. As friends.”
“I know how good of a friend you are,” he thrusts his pelvis into me.
I cringe and push away from him. “You fucking pig!” I scream.
“I’m sorry…bad joke.” He holds his hands out defensively. “Bloody awful.”
“You need to leave,” I say seriously, barely able to even look him in the face.
“I’m not leaving. Come on, Rey. Let me come up.” He tries to approach me again. “I want to make this right.”
“No,” my voice is low and menacing.
“I have a key,” he replies in challenge.
I arch a single brow. “And if you force yourself into my flat right now, I’ll be taking that key back from you. I need you to leave, Hayden. Now. Respect that.”
He runs his hands through his hair and looks at me with wide, worrying eyes. “I’m sorry, Rey. I don’t know what’s gotten in to me.”
“I know you’re sorry. And we’ll be fine. But you’re not coming up. Not tonight. Please leave.”
“Fuck!” he screams and throws his fists into the air. After eyeing me for a moment, he turns to walk back down the sidewalk toward the pub.
I exhale a shaky breath and let myself into my building. When the lift doors close, I slump down to the floor and completely lose what little reserve I had left.
My dreams have always been poignant. My entire life I’ve been able to remember them really well, which I’m told is rather rare. About a year after Marisa died, I went to a psychic who claimed she could interpret dreams. She was located in a dodgy part of London, but I was curious enough to check it out.
It was all a crock of bullshit. She started talking about dreams being windows into our soul from the dead and I panicked, threw my money on the table, and ran out of the room.
But ever since that day, I’ve always wondered.
Tonight’s dream is no different.
I’m standing in the most stunning wedding dress I’ve ever seen. It’s a fabric that feels like it’s made of clouds. I turn, looking around for reassurance from my loved ones, but no one is there. I’m in the middle of a plush hotel room with a huge breakfast buffet spread with mimosas, coffee, and various presents. But still, no one is around.
I catch my reflection in one of the large mirrors above the bed and see that my dark tresses are pinned up in a beautiful up-do with swirling tendrils framing my face. My makeup is dark and seductive. My lips a deep shade of purple. My tattoos are on full display and I look like I belong on the cover of Alternative Bride magazine.
Suddenly, my mother appears behind me. “Where is everyone?” I ask her, turning and taking in her ivory, lace mother-of-the-bride dress.
“Who do you mean?” Her smile is beaming. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so genuinely happy.
“My friends…my bridesmaids?” I stop myself just in time before saying ‘my sisters’.
Her smile falters for the briefest of seconds. “Honey, you know Marisa was kidnapped three years ago.”
“Marisa’s dead, Mom,” I argue, feeling confused.
“Miracle, no. We can’t give up hope. She’s just gone for a while.”
She’s not dead? She could still be alive? Just as my dreamlike mind begins to race with possibility, the double doors into the hotel suite fly open.
“I’m here!” Marisa’s voice sings before I finally lay eyes on her.
She rounds the corner as the sun peeks out from the clouds and blasts the room with its fiery rays. She looks the picture of health. Her blonde hair is curled and flowing down her back. She’s dressed in a floor-length peach gown and her lips are smeared with a shiny nude gloss.
“How Marisa? How did you escape?”