by Bruce Thomas
I finished off my champagne with a big gulp and leaned exhausted onto the island.
"Another one, Miss?"
My head snapped to the side to find the blonde waiter with the charming smile offering the whole platter of flutes to me. I took one, thanking him, trying not to make any lingering eye contact. "So, you here for business or pleasure?" He asked, eyes roaming the room.
"Both, I guess," I said.
I let myself look at him without making it obvious I was. He was tall but not as tall as Fred and his features were fair, nothing dark about him. Unlike Fred.
"Though, I'm starting think I should have asked for payment." I watched the smile spread across his face, my lips pulling up the same. He laughed shifting the silver platter in his hand.
An elderly woman wearing a bundle of pearls swooped by grabbing a glass from him. He offered her a polite smile before she shuffled off.
"Do you always work Mr. Montgomery's dinner parties. I hear he throws a lot," I said trying to make small talk since it looked like he was rather comfortable away from all the grabby hands. "Naw, this is my first one. In all honesty, I didn't want to work it." I noticed he had a hint of a Jersey accent.
I took a sip of my new drink. "How come?"
I really hope he wouldn't get in trouble for standing here talking to me instead of working the room. It was just so nice to talk to someone who wasn't scowling at me.
The waiter shrugged dismissing my question. "So, who are you here with?"
"Fred Montgomery, Lawrence's son." I managed not to turn beet red in saying so. The thought of being here with him seemed formal yet far fetched.
The waiter nearly dropped the entire tray of drinks before steadying them with his other hand. I paused with the glass halfway to my lips.
"Fred Montgomery is here?" His face scrunched up unattractively but he seemed to control himself seconds later, the skin returning to its normal smooth complexion.
All I did was nod, not quite sure what his reaction was about. The waiter was clearly taken by surprise at the sound of Fred's name.
Of course Fred was here. It was his father's house.
I dismissed myself politely before I could say any more. I headed for the large living room which happened to be even more crowded than the kitchen,
No one bothered to talk to me. Everyone in the room was at
least twice my age and only seemed interested in how they could make a dollar. I mentally crossed business major off my list of options. Fred was no where to be seen. I didn't want to come off as the 'clingy girlfriend' in this situation but I felt terribly out of place in a room full of strangers. The least he could do was check in and see if I was okay. I could handle myself but this was not my scene and he had disappeared instantly after our confrontation.
I scolded myself for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. Why would he check up on me? I was nothing to him. Just someone who was doing him a favor which I should not be granting him in the first place.
"I'm bored," said a little voice below me. I looked beside me to see Fred's little brother picking uncomfortably at his suit sleeves.
"What do you normally do at these things?" I asked. For such a young kid he was sure lanky. I predict he will be as tall as his brother when he's older, if not taller.
Matty sat down at the piano bench behind him and I leaned nonchalantly against the grand black instrument. I had to give the little man props. He was doing a fine job at keeping himself preoccupied and out of trouble. I didn't know a six year old that could stay clean without much of parental supervision. He seemed wise beyond his short years.
"Fred is usually around to play with me," he shrugged. There was a hint of sadness in his tone and the disappointed feeling of Fred's absence resurfaced. "Have you seen your brother?" I asked. I walked around and took a seat beside him on the bench, crossing my legs.
"No, I thought he was with you. You're his girlfriend." The little boy showed me a toothy, or I should say lack of teeth grin, clearly finding this label funny.
I couldn't help the giggle escape my mouth. I always wanted a little brother or sister. Suddenly, as if a tidal wave had rolled its way through the room, two large men rushed through the glass patio doors across the sleek wooden flooring. Curious guest gravitated towards the sudden commotion that seemed to be coming from the backyard.
I looked over at Matty as if he might have a clue what was going on. But by the way his little eyebrows pulled low over his green eyes which shifted to mine, I knew, he too, was confused.
"Stay here," I told him, getting up from the bench and pushing my way through people. Gasps rumbled through the cigar filled room masking the grunts that were coming from outside. The sounds of fist colliding with solid flesh echoed through the air along with murderous threats. I halted midway in pushing a white hair lady to the side. She grumbled at me but I ignored her. I knew that deep threatening voice.
I stepped outside as soon as Fred sprang forward with clenched fists, causing the room full of people to gasp at his advance. Swinging with full force, he connected with the blonde waiter's nose. The blow was hard enough to send the waiter to the ground but he rebounded quickly, clipping Fred in the jaw making him stagger back.
The dull thud and gasps of breath confirmed that they had gotten a few hits in before they recruited an audience. Fred doubled over, the punch catching him off guard and a string of curses left his bloody mouth. But the waiter was relentless, he took another swing at Fred's head but Fred, with skilled reflexes, dodge it, butting his head into the waiter's stomach tackling him to the ground.
I moved forward to stop the fight but was stopped by a hand clamping down on my shoulder. Mr. Montgomery, blue eyes blazing, shook his head. I forced my eyes back to the brutal war zone. I looked at the two big men, mentally screaming at them to do something.
Fred's fists repeatedly colliding with the waiter's face, sending blow after blow until one of the big men yanked him off. He tried to stand straight, eyes bulging with rage and glaring at the now bloodied waiter who, in all honesty, looked better than Fred, whose entire face was smeared with red along with his knuckled which could be from himself or his opponent.
I shivered. The waiter brought himself up from the damp grass with the help of the second man, who held him tightly by the upper arms. His apron sprawled out on the lawn beside him and his bow tie hung limp around his neck.
Both of their breathing filled the silence, heavy and desperate. The adrenaline visibly left Fred's body making him lean back against the man holding him up. I didn't have to look up at his father to see the look of anger mixed with shame. Fred averted his eyes to the ground.
"You're fired," Mr. Montgomery spoke through his teeth at the waiter. Being near him, I could hear the hiss in his words but he came off as cool and collected.
His eyes momentarily landed on his son, still gasping for air.
"Clean him up," he directed to me, his voice stern and clearly disgusted before turning around walking back inside his house. He walked passed his guest clearly embarrassed about his son's behavior. He walked up to Matty, who decided to disobey my order of staying inside and ushered him back into the house.
I gave the little boy a sad look, worried about all that he saw. He casted down his round eyes and allowed his father to move him into the house.
Several looks of disapproval flew my way before they all turned their attention back to each other, walking back inside the house to no doubt gossip about what they just saw.
What did I do? Old bats.
When I turned back to the yard, one of the large men were dragging the waiter, whose smile I once found charming, off the property.
"Get the fuçk off me Sam," Fred grumbled shoving his way out of the man's grasp. The muscular man stepped back slightly letting go of Fred, but watched him like a hawk as he made his way over to me. Except he wasn't walking to me, he was walking past me. I grabbed his arm as he tried making his escape. There was no way he was just going to
leave me out here alone after witnessing that, acting as if it never happened.
He froze under my touch, refusing to look me in the eye as I placed myself in front of him, blocking him from getting away.
I don't know where this sudden confidence came from but I didn't second guess it as my eyes slowly moved over his body, observing the damage. His lip
was split in the bottom corner, his nose was bleeding profusely along with the gash above his eyebrow, and his white shirt was now untucked and ripped, covered with spots of blood.
Cautiously, I lifted his right fist that he used to attack and examined his knuckles. They were bruised and bloody just like his face.
"Come on," I managed to croak. I couldn't stand here in this awkward silence. The smell of blood wafted through my nostrils making me nauseous.
Fred didn't protest as I turned, directing him with me inside.
We ignored the judging looks as we made our way across the main room. I went to turn the corner to the kitchen where I could clean his cuts under the sink when Fred's hand clamped around mine. I quietly gasped at the contact and looked up at him. My fingers tingled at the connection of his just like they did when he wound our fingers together in the court yard not so long ago. "This way," he said, pulling me up the stairs to the second floor. I looked back towards the crowded room to see if anyone was watching. People seemed to have forgotten the fight and gone back to conversing under the crystal chandelier hanging in the main room, drinking their champagne.
I followed Fred up the stairs and around the banister to a closed door, which he opened, ushering me in. The room was rather large with a full sized bed, perfectly made and untouched. I took a few steps to walk up to a corkboard to see pinned pictures of a boy with a Yankees baseball hat covering his blonde hair, no older than ten years old. Another one of a incredibly beautiful woman
hugging the waist of a now grown boy, Fred, shown a happy smile on both of their faces. This must be Fred's childhood room.
He was ruffling around in the bathroom that was connected to his room just a few feet away. Cursing could be heard when he couldn't find what he was looking for.
Sighing, I walked to the half opened door. "Get out," I commanded, taking him by the elbow and tugging him back into his bedroom. I really didn't have the patience for this. He started to protest when I pushed him down on the edge of his bed but I bluntly ignored him and walk back into the bathroom. There, I grabbed a dark wash cloth so the blood wouldn't be so apparent when it stained it and ran it under the faucet. I grabbed a water glass that was sitting next to the sink, clearly unused from lack of Fred's presence and filled it halfway with water.
When I walked back to him he was silent with his head hung low. I lifted his chin with my fingertips, hoping not to cause him more pain though at the moment I'm sure he deserved a little more. I could still picture the disgust on his father's face when those men had to pry Fred off that waiter. "So," I said dipping the cloth in the warm water that I sat on his night stand. I wrung the washcloth and swiped it across his cupids bow trying to clean up the partially dried blood.
When he didn't answer me. I sighed. "Why?" I asked. "How did that fight start?"
"You don't want to know." Fred batted my hand away and went to reach for the cloth to finish the clean up himself but I snatched my hand
away, along with the cloth, and glared down at him. "Clearly I do because I asked." My voice sounded monotonous and bored to my own ears. I still couldn't look him in the eye because I was afraid he would see just how frightened I was to see the scene that I did.
Like I said, I knew Fred was bad news. I just didn't picture it before tonight. I guess the whole being in denial about him not being particularly dangerous was shattered. I saw it first hand. I have never seen an actual fight unless it was in movies. It was scary.
I didn't speak, waiting for him to answer me. I ranted in my head that if he didn't tell me in the next thirty seconds I would drop everything and take a cab home, never to speak to him again. I dusted the cloth around his nose once more causing him to wince. "I know his girlfriend," he muttered, his hands gripping at his knees through his slacks. "Well, exgirlfriend." I could tell he was nervous in telling me but I really didn't care. This wasn't exactly my idea of a fun Saturday night.
"Why would that start a fight?" I cranked his head up to face me, wanting to see his eyes, hoping I could get an indication of what was going through his head. When I looked into his eyes, so dark that they looked haunting, realization hit me. I felt my chest tighten and my eyes narrow.
"You and her..." I dropped his face, his eyes still connected to mine, and I took a step away from him. If there was one thing I hated it was a cheater and in this case the waiters girlfriend was at fault but that didn't make Fred any less in the wrong. "Did
you know she was with someone?"
Fred watched my face seeing my reaction. I was not backing down from the intensity of his gaze. He was trying to intimidate me and by the beating of my heart I was too angry to allow myself to be intimidated. "Annaanna, this isn't the first time I slept with someone's girlfriend."
I sighed, refusing to look him in the eye once again.
That is terrible. How could he do that to someone. Yes, he isn't the only one at fault but still. Does he have no morals? And those girls...Those girls should be ashamed of themselves. I never understood cheaters. If you weren't happy with that person, don't be with them. Don't drag someone who cares about you through hell and back for your selfish needs.
"Then I'm glad he kicked your ass." My fist tightened around the bloody cloth trying to keep from saying what I really wanted to. I wanted to slap him upside the head and tell him he was a self absorbed bastard.
"He did not kick my ass!" He defended. His split lips pulled up in amusement making him grimace in pain. Good. Served him right.
"Sure looks like he did," I taunted stepping forward and pressing the wet cloth to wipe up the blood near his eyebrow that was running down the side of his face.
"I got in the most shots," he praised himself sitting up a little straighter, only to slouch again from the strain on his bruised ribs. "You should be more worried about that piece of shi--" "Don't," I snapped. "Don't say one horrible thing about him. This is all on you, Fred." Fred's eyes got wide for a second before he turned
his face away from me, causing my hands to fall from his face and to my sides.
He stood up abruptly and I stumbled on my feet backwards trying to make as much distance between our bodies as possible. Sniffling, he brought his hand over his partially cleaned face. With his back to me I could see the way his back muscles tensed and relaxed again with each harsh breath. I looked down at my feet refusing to show my feelings.
He looked over his shoulder at me, his hands placed on his slim hips. Before I could see he was moving my way, he took a large step and stood over me, so close that I could feel his breath on my face. "Who are you to judge me? I don't live for anybody but myself. I do what I want when I want to because I can. I don't need some prissy bitch telling me I'm a bad person." Every word he spit off was like a slap to the face. I was now in the waiter's position, being bullied and beaten by Fred Montgomery. Every word that ever left his mouth was either sarcastic or cruel, directed exactly where he knows will make the biggest impact. He only acts nice towards me when he needs something.
I wasn't judging him, I was simply pointing out a fact. He seemed to always be doing something that was wrong and he expected to get off the hook each time without a single person ever standing up to him. If they did, they ended up in the ring.
My eyes locked with his but I didn't look too far because I would see what I always saw, nothing. He had no emotions as far as I could tell.
I couldn't speak. I had nothing to say, or at least nothing that would break
through to him. Maybe the cab idea would end better than staying here pretending to actually like this man for the rest of the night. I'm sure his father would want him to leav
e anyway. Before I could turn around and dramatically leave his bedroom like I wanted to, Fred's hand hooked behind my neck.
His lips crashed harshly down on mine without warning. His other hand pushed on my lower back making me arch up to him, pressing me closer to his solid body.
I gasped at the contact, unknowingly giving him access for him to dip his tongue into my mouth right away. Without consent from my brain, my lips moved in sync with his, kissing him back. I wove my fingers up his sculpted arms and over his shoulders, traveling my way up to the nap of his neck. Heat spread its way through my body settling in my stomach.
I have been kissed before but it was just a pathetic excuse for one in Katy's basement when I was fifteen. The boy, Chad, was a shy boy who only let the kiss last for a second before he turned away and continued to watch the movie we were watching.
Fred was anything but shy. He tilted my head this way and that, deepening the kiss only to change pace, his movements slow, light, then deep and firm. I felt like I was going to explode. An embarrassing whimper escaped me when he pulled my bottom lip between his, making my knees go weak. His hand slid from my neck to my back supporting me before I turned into a pile of mesh onto the floor.
When he pulled back he was breathing hard along with myself. I could feel the profound beating of his heart under the
palm on my hand that was resting just above his heart to steady myself. I was quite certain mine could be seen thumping out of my chest under my dress.
Our lips hovered over each others, slightly touching but not connected as I struggled to get my barrings. I took a shallow breath only to breathe in the scent of blood.
My eyes zeroed in on his split lip that had just been between both of mine, causing the busted skin to reopen. With a mangled groan from Fred he connected our lips once again in the most animalistic way possible. Capturing my bottom lip with his teeth his pulled back slowly before releasing it. I couldn't hold back the half gasp/half moan as he did this.
My body was vibrating under his touch. Every cell in my body felt like they had woken up after their long, long, slumber. I opened my eyes to see he was watching me too with hooded eyes as he repeated the action. His pupils were blown out so far that no mysterious color could be seen, only blackness, while he nibbled my now swollen lip.