by Amy Daws
“Thanks?” I snap back sarcastically.
“It’s a compliment and you bloody well know it,” he barks, instantly shooting me down.
“Liam! You don’t know me anymore like you think you do. I’m a ghost of the person I once was. You have no idea who I’ve been for the past three years. You haven’t been around!”
“That wasn’t my fucking choice!” he roars. His eyes are wary. Begging. Pleading.
I swallow down his spot on retaliation. “You said friends. I’m not equipped for whatever you’re trying to make this.”
“Oh, bollocks!” he shouts and then rushes up to me, trapping me around the door frame. His arms are on either side of my face as he bores wide and tense eyes down on me. “I’m done, Rey. I can’t be perfect here. I can’t say or do the right thing because that’s always serving someone else. Today, I want to be selfish. Today, I want to be impatient. Today, I want to choose the direction my life goes. Today, I want to make you mine.”
His eyes flash down to my mouth and before I can protest, he slams his lips to mine and I swear I can taste the word mine melting into every part of his sensual assault. His tongue pushes past my lips and takes what it so greedily wants. My limbs turn to mush.
This kiss is entirely different than the kisses we shared last night and this morning. This kiss is powerful, hungry, and demanding. This kiss is taking, not giving. Just as I prepare to grab him by the neck and yank him toward the bedroom to finish the job he’s started, he breaks away and murmurs, “Sometimes, nice guys just have to be bad if they want something this hard.”
I move my chin up to kiss him again and he yanks himself back from me, leaving me dizzy and breathless against the wall.
“I’m not waiting forever, Rey,” he says walking backwards away from me. His eyes have a haunted look to them, like he knows he’s leaving way too much power up to me and he’s terrified of what’s to come. “Even though I’m still fucking madly in love with you, I won’t…I refuse to wait forever.”
And with that, he turns toward the living room, leaving me shattered and completely sickened in his wake.
Sick.
Sick.
Sick.
Not love.
Never love.
Why did he have to say fucking love? He knows so little about the true inner darkness that I have living inside of me. The torturous need I have to be alone. Completely and utterly alone. It’s what I crave. It’s what I desire. It’s what I need for survival.
With my mind reeling and a panic attack settling in on top of me, I throw all of my possessions into my bag. It’s not quite nine o’clock, yet. I can still catch a train back to London. My hands are trembling as I physically try to repel the words he spewed at me just now.
Not love. Not me. Never me.
Throwing on a pair of jeans and a tank, I toss my bag over my shoulder and scurry nervously out into the small living area. Liam is sitting on the couch, still shirtless. His head is drooped as his fingertips calmly tap into each other. He looks up at me as I emerge. His normally warm eyes are dark and ominous.
“I need to leave.” My voice is trembling as I fight back tears that I have no clue where they are coming from. I purse my lips to hide the quivering. “I have to get back to London.”
He nods slowly. “This is nothing more than I already expected.”
I glare at him. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
He half smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It means that not much has changed. I saw it in your eyes when I said that I love you just a bit ago.”
I flinch outwardly at his words and shake my head, steeling myself, “You can’t possibly love me, Liam. This has become too heavy. You said friends, that isn’t what this has turned in to.”
“I said what I had to,” he snarls, rising to his feet and angrily pacing in front of me. It reminds me of the night he tried to convince me of the same thing three years ago. “Tell me, do you run from Hayden every time your friendship shifts?”
My eyes widen. “You know fuck all about me or my relationship with Hayden!” I scream defensively.
“You can let him get close but not me? It’s not hard to tell what you two have been to each other these last few years, Reyna.”
“What. The. Fuck. Is that supposed to mean?” My warning tone is unquestionable. “How dare you?”
“How dare I? How dare you, Rey! You’re making this into nothing and you fucking know it was more. We’ve always been more.”
“No, we haven’t,” I shake my head meanly. “We just had a slip.”
His jaw drops in shock and he stops pacing and turns to me. “A slip?”
“Yep, a slip. Shit happens.” I feel my pulse thundering loudly in my head but I ignore it.
A scary tremor shudders over his facial features. “How often do you slip with Hayden?” His eyes are slits. His voice is scarily calm. “Fucking tell me.”
I step straight into him looking right up his flared and angry nostrils. If he wants to fight dirty, he’s going to lose. I’m the queen of filth. And I’ve been yielding my words as weapons for years.
My voice is low and menacing. “I’d rather talk about that night you fucked me in my dorm room. It was the same night you showed me the engagement ring you bought for my dead best friend. Or did you forget?”
A sickening expression blasts his face. For a moment I think he’s going to crumple to the floor into a fit of sobs. Instead, his lips form a thin line and he breaks our eye contact, pointing to the door. “You need to leave.” He turns his newly hardened dark eyes back on me. “I already called you a cab. All you have to do is walk out that door.”
“With fucking pleasure,” I reply and storm out without so much as a glance back.
The train ride back to London flies. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline coursing through my veins, but I swear that no sooner do I hop on the train, the announcement that we’re nearing Victoria Station blares overhead. As soon as I pop up out of the Underground, I’m practically screaming for release. For oblivion. For nothingness.
I lay my angry eyes on the White Swan Pub. It looks like a cozy beacon of comfort in comparison to the roaring anger in my body. Dragging my duffle along the sidewalk, I ram the door open and charge right up to an open stool at the bar.
“I need three shots. Anything,” I snap to the nearest server behind the bar. She’s a younger gal that’s been here for about a year now. Vanessa something?
“Should I tell Al you’re here?” She looks at me cautiously as she sets three shot glasses down in front of me and fills them with a clear liquid.
“Um…no.” I close my eyes and tip the glass into my mouth. Schnapps. I fucking hate schnapps.
Just as I’m downing the third, I hear his voice before I open my eyes again. “Reyna, love. You look…”
His voice trails off as I open my hard gray eyes and fix him with a murderous warning to not finish that sentence. Furrowing his brow, his short stature strides over to the bar and stands before me. His bald head has a light sheen of sweat like he’s been moving boxes in the back.
“Where the fuck is he?” His voice is deadly serious.
I shake my head. “It’s not who you think.”
“Then bloody well tell me who. I’m going to set them straight right the fuck now.” His fists clench on top of the glossy wooden bar counter.
I groan loudly and snap, “Jeez, I don’t need you interfering too, Al. You’re just like my mother!”
“Don’t get shirty with me! I’ve picked you up off this bar floor more times than I care to count and I don’t care to do it again. I deserve to know who’s got you bellied up to the bar getting rat-arsed like your life depends on it.”
I lift my eyes to him and sadly shake my head. “He’s miles away in a little houseboat of hell.”
Al’s eyes turn from angry to sympathetic. My vision begins softening around the edges as the liquor takes quick effect.
“I’ve not seen you l
ike this in a while, Rey. Surely anyone that’s got you this upset must be somebody important.”
“It doesn’t make any difference if he is, Al. I’m not worth any importance.” I roll my eyes and tip the remaining droplets leftover in one of the shot glasses into my mouth.
He reaches his hand across the bar and touches mine. I yank my hand away, hating the loving touch he’s trying to give me. It feels like razor blades. He ignores my demeanor and says, “Never say that again, lass. I think you’d be surprised how bloody important you’ve become. At least to me.” His wide eyes pierce me with a meaningful look that further inflicts more pain on my heart.
Eventually, he leaves me in peace and I chug two more shots before deciding to stumble home to my flat. Stepping into my living room, I find Hayden face down, passed out on my mattress. Panic prickles my skin at the idea that he could have mixed booze with pills. He’s done it before. I rush over to check him.
When I confirm that he’s breathing and his pulse feels okay, I relax and begin stripping off all of my clothes. He’s just passed out as usual. I cut the lights and crawl under the covers next to him. I tuck my nose into his shirt-covered shoulder. He instinctually wraps his arm around my back and I breathe in his familiar scent of cigarettes and alcohol. It’s an odd, comforting smell that I’ve been using and abusing for far too long.
Drifting off to sleep I recall over and over the green-eyed look that Liam got in his eyes when he asked about Hayden and my relationship. I knew Hayden would be here when I got back. That’s the beauty of him. I know when he’s going to pull away and when he’s going to push in. I can predict him. After our little blow up the other night, I knew he’d be desperate to make sure we were okay. We seek each other out like that. We crave each other’s presence no matter how toxic it might be. It’s like an addiction.
Liam is entirely too unpredictable. And that scares the life out of me.
This is where I belong—in a bed with someone just as fucked up in the head as me. Someone who uses me for the same reasons I use him.
Someone who will never fall in love with me.
“Mom?” I ask, walking carefully toward her, my hands extended out in caution. “Mom, what are you doing?”
My mother is sitting on her knees on the cold marble floor we had in the living room of our apartment near the Westminster hospital. There’s no furniture in the room—only a large bay window with sheer drapes swaying slowly in the nonexistent wind.
“Miracle? I didn’t know you were coming by.” Her previously tortured face quickly morphs into a smile. “I wish you would have called.”
I stare at her in wonder. “Mom, why are you holding that knife?” The shiny blade glints in the sunlight and her gaze drops to stare at it.
“This seemed like a good choice. I’m good with a scalpel. This is simply an extension of that. They’re at least in the same family!” She laughs manically and shoves her short hair back away from her face. A layer of sweat drizzles down her forehead all the way to her lips.
“What are you planning to do with it?” I ask, continuing to walk slowly toward her, but not making much progress.
“Miracle, you should know better than anyone.” She cocks her head and stares at me.
“What do you mean?”
“Pain. You want me to feel pain, right?”
“Mom, stop. I don’t want you to feel anything.”
She shakes her head knowingly. “That’s not true, you’ve asked for pain. So I’m fulfilling the request.” Her knuckles turn white as she grips the blade and drags it across the skin on her wrist.
“Mom!” I scream and burst into a dead sprint toward her. I’m running with all my might and not moving a centimeter closer to her. “Mom, stop!” My voice cracks as I drop to my knees exhausted.
Blood pours from her other wrist as she creates a matching slit perfectly. Both wounds tight and thin, but the red reaction thick and heavy. I’m kneeling three feet away from her, frozen, watching the red liquid coat the white marble and am powerless to get to her. Loud, riotous sobs erupt from my throat.
“Why are you doing this, Mom?”
“Reyna Miracle. You want me to miss them, I miss them. You want me to crack, I’m cracking. I will see them soon. All of them. My girls. I will be able to hold them where they are. I will be able to feel their skin on mine. Your father, too.” Her blue eyes are smiling. Still—sitting in a pool of blood—she smiles.
“But what about me?” I say through snotty sobs.
“What about you?”
“How can you do this to me?” I cry, feeling so at war with my feelings. Part of me knowing this is what I’ve always wanted. I’ve always wanted them to have her. My sisters. They deserve her love, not me. But for the life of me, I’m unable to give her up for them.
“Miracle, how can you be upset? You said it yourself. You’re only here by accident. Default. A percentile detection by my calculation. The odds don’t lie. Three of you had to die so that one could live.”
“I didn’t want to be right. I don’t understand why I had to be the one, Mom. I don’t understand. I’m nothing special. I’m not fulfilling. I don’t do anything right. I’m messed up in the head, Mom. I ruin everything I touch!” My voice cracks and I crave the ghost of the warm embrace my father used to give me whenever I cried. “I wish Daddy was here.”
“I wish Daddy was here, too.” Her face purses into a disgusted sneer. “He could have helped keep me safe. So I didn’t have to be the only protector.”
You protected too much, I want to say, but don’t. I can feel her slipping from me and for once I hold my tongue. “Why are you saying all of this?” I slice my fingers through my wild hair.
“I am only saying what you’ve been screaming at me for nearly thirty years, my Miracle.” Her face is calm. Serene.
“I just wanted to know you, Mother! Fuck!”
“This is all I know how to be.” She stands up, the bottom of her white dressing gown dripping with blood. She turns her head and I follow her gaze to find Marisa standing there with her hand stretched out.
“No, no!” I rise and am frozen in place again. “You can’t have her, Marisa. Stop. Just wait. I need. I need—”
“You need to wake up, Reyna,” Marisa’s voice sounds like church bells as she pulls my mother further and further away from me. “You need to wake up. Wake up!”
“Wake up, Rey!”
Two firm hands shake my shoulders roughly and I scream out, “No! STOP!”
“Christ, Rey. Please wake up!” Hayden’s voice cuts through my dream and my eyes fly open, wet and wide.
“Hayden?” I cry out loudly. “Oh my God, Hayden.” I sit up and he pulls me into his arms as sobs pulse through me. His hands rub down my back in soothing strokes and eventually he reaches up and squeezes that spot at the base of my neck. The spot that feels like my lifeline between sanity and chaos.
“What the fuck were you dreaming about?” His voice is hoarse and I look out the window to see it’s still pitch black out.
I groan and shake my head crazily. “Too fucked up to talk about.” I pull away from his hug and look him in the eyes. They are sagged and glossy in the dim moonlight pooling in from the window. He looks like he’s still drunk. So am I for that matter.
“Where were you last night?” he asks, glancing down at my naked chest.
“Doesn’t matter,” I say and grip his shoulders aggressively. I pull him to my lips. My kiss is desperate and needy. Hard and biting. Anything to get the fucked up shit I was just dreaming about out of my head. Murmuring against his lips, I whisper, “I need to forget, Hayden. Now. Right now.” I plunge my tongue deep into his alcohol-tasting mouth.
It takes him a second, but he grips my neck and returns my kiss with fervor. Eventually he pulls back and stares deeply into my eyes. “Always.”
The brief expression I see in his eyes is disarming but before I have time to dissect it, he shoves me hard onto my back against the mattress. He kneels befor
e me in a t-shirt and a pair of black boxer briefs. He pushes them down quickly and then hops up to go grab a condom.
I scrub my hands over my tear-stained face, swallowing away the roiling sickness in the back of my throat. I need to forget. I need oblivion. I need Hayden. He returns with the condom already on as he positions himself beneath my legs. He grips my buttocks and says, “I want you on top.” He rolls us over so I’m positioned gloriously naked atop him. “Fuck me, Rey. Now.”
I nod numbly at his demand, still feeling the buzz of alcohol in my own system. I sink myself down onto him and relish in the fullness our bodies connecting gives me. I gyrate my hips against him in a slow and steady pace. The sensation between us doesn’t have the desired effect I was hoping for. Hayden’s large hands guide my hips back and forth as he works me toward my climax. Feeling agitated and confused at why things feel differently between us, I reach down to touch myself to help things along. Hayden’s voice breaks into my inner turmoil.
“You can’t leave me again, Rey.” His voice is guttural and tense. “You can’t. Ever.”
I frown at his odd choice of words. Talking during sex isn’t a common thing between us. If we do talk, it’s usually just dirty. Nothing like this. We fuck to stop our brains from working—not reconnect them to each other. I shake my head, attempting to ignore him and the strange, niggling feeling that something is missing.
“I need you,” he grunts as I pulse on top of him. “I can’t…can’t live…without you.”
My eyes snap open and lock onto Hayden’s. Fear rich and deep explodes inside of me. “What are you doing, Hayden?”
“We need each other, Rey. We can’t do life without each other. Don’t leave me again.” He looks down to where our bodies are connecting, still relishing in the sex act we’re performing.