I sob into the pillows as the memories of that terrible night with Christian sink in. Oliver is just like his brother now, cold and devious. He found his way to get to me. All my wounds are slowly opening up.
I doze off shortly, exhausted. In my dreams, I’m my old self, confident and popular.
***
The fire alarm stirs me back to consciousness. I rub my eyes, wondering if the porter downstairs decided to test it in the middle of the night, to get people out of the building.
The alarm doesn’t stop ringing for about a minute, so I assume that I should get out of my apartment, as it’s probably a real fire.
People are hurrying towards the entrance, and I’m still in my nighty running to the stairs. I barge into the laundry room hoping to find a jacket. After the incident with Oliver I don’t fancy standing outside dressed like a hooker. I hear someone shouting to get out. The laundry room is dark. I search for the switch, wondering if this day can get any worse. I know that I left my clothes to dry here in the morning.
Then I hear steps and someone locks the door.
“Hey, you need to get out of here. The fire alarm,” I say, annoyed. As my eyes get used to the darkness I spot a silhouette of a man. He takes a few steps forward and my mind starts screaming that I should get the hell out of here.
“Hello, Indi.”
It’s like I’m in my own nightmare, but this time it’s all happening for real. My heart leaps in my throat as I stumble backwards. “Oliver, what the—”
He doesn’t let me finish. Instead he moves toward me in the blink of an eye and pushes me against the wall. Every muscle in my body locks, and fear jets through me with the awareness that history is about to repeat itself.
“I needed to see you again,” he mumbles. “I’ve missed you so much.”
His breath reveals that he’s had way too much to drink. I’m frozen, unable to move and completely startled with his closeness. Before I can even anticipate his next move, his lips are on mine, and he kisses me hard. Alarm bells are going off in my mind; a voice screams to push him away, but the heat that suddenly embraces my body is unbelievably real. Desire whisks through me as he slips his tongue inside my mouth.
A short gasp escapes me as he sucks on my bottom lip, making a sound in the back of his throat. His hips push into me harder.
“Beautiful India,” he cracks, moving his lips down my neck, making my senses swirl like my body isn’t mine anymore. I don’t know what is happening to me. He crushed me, humiliated me, and now he is kissing me like he owns me. His hands move down around my waist and I feel his erection just by my thigh. His lips are sweet, but deep down I find the strength to push him away.
“Oliver, what the hell are you doing?” I ask, breathing hard.
He darts his eyes towards me, his face only inches away from mine. “You ruin me, India,” he whispers, stepping away as if he just realized what he did. “This is what you lost. My brother didn’t mean anything. You always wanted me.”
My chest heaves and everything around me spins out of control. I want him to accept me, to love me, but I’m afraid to let go of the hatred that protected me. I have a chance to tell him everything now, to make him understand.
“Fuck Oliver, if you want to hear this from me, then, yes, I admit it,” I tell him, shaking. The tears are back, running down my cheeks. “Yes, I did love you more than I loved Christian. And I wanted to apologize to you, but I was a coward, so I never did it.”
He runs his hand through his hair looking at me with desperation. “You ruined my life because you lost a man that you didn’t even want?” he whispers. “It’s too late. Leave Braxton. I’m giving you another chance. Let me carry on living a normal life.”
I clench my fists, chewing my lips, watching Oliver’s chest rise and fall. I have a chance to tell him everything now, ask him for forgiveness, make him understand why I did all these horrible things to him after his brother died. “I can’t change the past, but I want to apologize. And to explain. Christian, he—”
“Fuck your apology. I don’t want to hear about it and I don’t need it. Christian left us, died in a car crash!’ he shouts, not even allowing me to finish. “We could have helped each other deal with the pain, but instead you pushed me away, hurt me and cut me to pieces.”
“Oliver, we can start again. Please if I could change what I did I would,” I cry, moving towards him.
He laughs.
“Too little, too late, India. You’re pathetic and you make me sick. I don’t want to hear any more bullshit that comes out of that mouth of yours.”
We stand looking at each other. He is right: I’m a pathetic human being because I’m still afraid of the truth. I could have explained this years ago, but instead I locked my emotions away and violated Oliver through hatred and cruelty.
“You’re right, and I can’t make you forgive me,” I reply. “But I won’t leave Braxton just because you can’t deal with me being here.”
“Do what you want, but you don’t realize what I’m capable of. It’s only the beginning. The past will come back hunting you down, and in a few months you will wish that you had left when you had a chance,” he says, throwing my remorse into the mud without a thought.
I failed again.
I slide down on the floor, breathing as if I can’t get any air. It’s all my fault. The pain is back, and I’m burning alive while Oliver is watching. His eyes are empty, and I know that he is right.
It’s only the beginning.
Chapter eight
Memories of him
Past
Dora threw a Halloween party while her mother was out of town and she asked me to help her organize it. We both wanted to see older guys and drink without being judged. I was going to turn seventeen in a few months and I wanted to start the celebrations early. Other girls kept saying that I had good taste in music and guys of course.
I told Mum a few days in advance that Dora and I were planning a sleepover. She trusted me and I never gave her a reason not to. In the past few weeks I’d been having nightmares, the same dream every time at exactly the same time. I kept waking up in the middle of the night drenched with sweat, still remembering his hands on my body. I had to do something to piss Oliver off. This was the only way that I could stop the nightmares. Hurting him would push the demons away for some time. He never fought back, and I felt like he wanted to show me that he didn't care if I hurt him or not. It had been a while since I’d done anything to humiliate him and it was time to show him that I was still strong and more powerful than him.
A few months passed, and I was trying to come to terms with everything that happened between Christian and me. Dating hadn't been easy and a lot of guys wanted to take Christian’s place. He’d been popular, handsome and was just about to leave Gargle to start his rugby career in Uni before he died. During one night with Bryan I let him go further than anyone else. We had sex, but the whole time that he was on top of me I was trying not to burst into tears. That night was meaningless, but he wanted more.
Christian had broken the shell of my heart when he touched me and violated me like no other man ever did. I kept my secret away from everyone, afraid if they knew the truth others would blame me, saying that I brought this on myself. I was his girlfriend, so I was supposed to sleep with him. My mother and even Dora had no idea that Christian had become a real monster in the last few moments of his life. It was easy to pretend, I learned fast and I played with my shattered emotions.
A week before the party at Dora’s house, we started inviting people from school. Dora was planning to send official invitations in a day or two. We all knew that no one expected Oliver to show up. Other teenagers didn't want to be associated with a loser like him. Me, on the other hand, I had to become someone else for a night.
“I put Cerry in charge of invitations,” Dora said while we were in her bedroom making a list of things that we needed to buy for the party.
“Why Cerry? I thought that you didn't li
ke her?” I asked, painting my toenails. Another party—that would bring a storm of memories and anxiety. Deep down I didn't want to go, but Dora was my best friend and she would get mad if I didn’t show up.
“You know she adores me, so I wanted to let her feel responsible for something in the party,” said Dora, brushing her hair. “What about Oliver? Should we leave him alone or push him a little more?”
Her room was spacious and filled with fashion magazines and beauty products. It had been three months since my tense conversation with Oliver at Christian’s funeral. He tried to talk to me after that, but I could only fight back. My coping mechanism was crushed. Every time he looked at me, it was like he wanted an explanation of why I treated him that way.
“It's a party for everyone else; he knows that he is not welcome.” I relished putting some foundation on my fair skin. It was hard to look in the mirror these days because I kept seeing my pathetic self when I couldn't bring myself to fight Christian. I should have called the police or told Dora, but I let him dictate what he wanted to do with me.
Dora started chewing her bottom lip, thinking hard about what I said. I taught her well. We both spread rumours about Oliver since school started. He was trying to blend in after his popular brother died, but I didn't let him.
“He will show up if there’s an invitation for him,” she said, giggling. “My parties are always successful. We can sent an invite tomorrow, asking him to dress up.”
My best friend was already thinking ahead. The whole school had been talking about her party and we were sending invitations the next day. We told people what to expect. Although it was Halloween, Dora didn't want anyone to dress up, but Oliver didn't know that no one would be wearing costumes. I could already picture him showing up dressed in some outrageous costume and making an absolute full of himself.
“What should we make him wear?” she asked.
I smiled, pretending that I was thinking about her idea. I was ready to hit him hard, and gain the comfort that came from making him pay for what Christian did to me, for not showing when he’d said he would. I had the rest of the year to play with him before he would disappear. Once he was gone, then he’d be gone forever. Because there was nothing to keep him here in Gargle, our small town in the South East of England, not even his ill mother.
“The costume of a vampire would be awesome, perfect for Halloween. Can you imagine? He shows up dressed like that, while everyone else looks amazing. Malcolm and the rest of the crew will destroy him,” I said, laughing. But inside I knew I was sick; I needed a therapist. This wasn't a normal behaviour. Feeding on someone’s pain just to deal with my own. Maybe I was pushing this too far.
“I was thinking maybe more like an animal outfit,” Dora said, looking reluctant. “He will look like a fool in front of everyone if he shows up dressed with that typical cliché vampire outfit.”
I didn't know what her problem was. She came out with that idea, and now she looked like she wanted to back out. “We want to humiliate him. It's that or nothing.”
“Okay, but I don't get it. Why do we keep doing this?”
She wanted to know why I was such a bitch to Oliver and why I started hating him. Dora had never questioned my cruel intentions before; she just got on with it.
I got up and paced around her room, trying to come up with some lame excuse.
“Because it's fun, isn't it?” I asked, doing everything I could to keep tension out of my voice.
“I know it's fun, but there must be a reason. I mean he never really did anything to you, did he?”
“He just exists. That’s a good enough reason,” I said turning around. “Now let's think about the music.”
It was that simple. I might have lost my confidence after the night with Christian, but I was still a coldhearted bitch and I needed to feed the demons in order to survive. We stayed in her room for the rest of the evening and wrote an invitation to Oliver.
Next day, Dora sent it, and I shared our plan with the rest of the girls. They loved it. Yeah, I injected them with hatred and they were like me: ruined from the inside out.
At school, I watched how people talked about the party and showed invitations to each other. Oliver kept coming to school, but he didn't interact with anyone, so he had no clue what to expect. He wasn't part of the social circle since I’d started bullying him.
When Halloween night came, I decided to wear a long black sparkly dress and high heels. When I showed up at Dora’s house, everyone loved my outfit. A group of older guys surrounded us, Bryan handed me a beer, and then Dora blasted loud music. She’d sent Oliver an invitation to show up at ten o’clock. It was a gamble. Oliver was intelligent, but the rumours about party at Dora’s house had been going on for ages. Oliver couldn't suspect anything, but he was probably surprised that he got an invite.
No one wore a costume that night. Girls blended in talking to the guys while I got drunk, hoping to forget why I was really there. I was nearly seventeen and underage, but this was a Halloween night and Dora’s guests were well behaved. The music was great, and Bryan stuck to me, trying to take me to one of the rooms upstairs, but I couldn't bring myself to do it again. I was waiting to see Oliver and the way he would react when he discovered our prank. My feelings for him remained unchanged. I loved and hated him all at the same time.
“Do you think that he’ll show up?” asked Cerry around nine, holding a large glass of wine.
“I hope so. He is the entertainment for this evening.” I laughed and drank some more beer. My mind was spinning already. I kept hearing voices and seeing dead Christian by the door and that look on his face that said “you are mine and I won't let you go until you give me what I want.”
I went to the bathroom after I got rid of Bryan. Making out with him wasn't on the agenda that night. He wanted to take Christian’s place, but no one stood a chance. I reapplied my makeup, wondering if I was ever going to feel normal again.
Dora lived in a large detached house with five bedrooms. Downstairs was an open plan where most people were dancing. I left the bathroom five minutes to ten and stood on the top of the stairs watching people.
At exactly ten o’clock someone opened the door and Oliver showed up. He was pushed inside by a few guys before he could even make out what was going on. As I suspected, he went for a full-on vampire costume. He had white powder all over his face. He looked hideous. People started laughing and pointing at him. Boys, his brother’s old mates, started throwing garlic at him. Soon someone fetched the camera and started taking pictures.
Oliver scanned the space. He hid his emotions well enough. I could tell he was looking for someone. I didn't know how he could be so immune to all these insults. I’d never seen him angry; he was just taking it, not reacting. I froze when he spotted me on the top of the stairs. For the first time in three months, panic seized me and I wanted to start running.
He started walking towards me, but he was soon blocked off by Bryan.
“Sorry, mate,” Bryan said. “You showed up at the wrong party, so fuck off before Dora asks us to throw you out.”
Oliver narrowed his eyes and punched him in the face. This came so unexpected for Bryan that he didn't even have a chance to react. Everyone in the room looked completely startled.
Oliver took that opportunity and climbed the stairs, stopping in front of me. His blue eyes widened. I stood there completely paralysed, feeling like I was staring at Christian again during that night when he challenged me about Oliver. I didn't know what to do or how to react. My heart started pounding. The air was trapped in my lungs. He was doing something to me, taking away the release that I was hoping would come.
“Are you having fun?” he asked “You can keep doing what you doing, but I know that one day I'll have power over you and you’re going to pay. Remember this, India. I'll be still standing up when you're down.”
I wanted to respond, I wanted to tell him that he was wrong, but it was like I was seeing Christian in front of me and he was
just about to strip me of my dignity and virtue. By the time I was ready to speak again, Oliver turned around and walked back to the door. Downstairs, all the girls were staring at me. They couldn't hear what Oliver said to me because the music was still loud.
Bryan was back on his feet and, along with other guys, they grabbed Oliver and pushed him outside. They wouldn't let him get away with what he’d done to Bryan. I looked out the window, and with a smile on my face, I watched how they threw punches at him. A few minutes later they were back in the house.
Oliver got up slowly and looked at the window where I was standing. His face was covered in blood. Everything was settled then; I felt that my power was back because I was seeing him hurt. He didn't get it and he wouldn't until two years later.
Until I wrote that letter that changed our future forever.
Chapter nine
Conversationalist
Present
I run through these memories in my head knowing that I shouldn't torture myself like that. Dora already knows what happened to me on Saturday night. I haven't seen her since Friday. She came back home when I left for a lecture in the morning. She has been texting me all the way through my Criminal law class, demanding I see her for lunch. As soon as the lecture is finished, I walk to the canteen. I know that if I keep ignoring her, she will just keep nagging until I tell her everything, so I might as well get it over with and talk to her now.
Throughout the weekend I've been getting more and more Facebook notifications. And people were laughing at me during the class lecture. Guys have been asking me if they could rent me for a night. I tried to ignore them and just get on with my day, but it's difficult to behave as if nothing happened. Oliver confuses me. He made so much effort to humiliate me in my new environment, and then he kissed me. His behaviour doesn't make any sense. It's like he wants to show me what I lost two years ago. Maybe this is just a part of his plan. His kiss finally took all the pain away and for a few seconds I felt like I was myself again—before the party, before Christian hurt me.
Love & Hate Series Box Set (Love & Hate #1-2) Page 7