Shock rolls over me. What kind of guy asks a girl out, and then doesn’t buy her dinner, only offering to pay for the drinks…a cheap one, “Well Conner, if you want me to stay, you better keep those drinks coming or I am leaving.” An instant thought shoots through my mind – leave. But I just go on ignoring it.
“Fine, but you need to make it worth my money.” Raising his hand he motions to the waitress, “Two more strong Stouts, now please.”
“Make it three.” If I am going to succumb to my new life then I am going to jump in with both feet.
The more I drink the more Conner’s voice gets on my nerves, forcing me to drink even more, attempting to block out his high pitched shrill. Conner, surprisingly, is freely offering me Stout after Stout, perhaps it is because of my now close proximity to him. My head starts spinning out of control as I gaze around the room, listening to Conner’s shrilling voice constantly echoing in my ears. I am in a state of disequilibrium, watching the room and all the occupants move back and forth like we are trapped on a violently rolling ship. Though my belly is empty, I am beginning to feel sick to my stomach. Looking up, trying to find a bathroom, I suddenly catch sight of Callum walking into the pub, hastily scanning the entire room. His eyes instantly find mine, staring at me in a disapproving way. For a brief moment it feels like I am hallucinating until a deep, smooth and sexual voice loudly cuts through the noise.
“What are you doing, Breanna? You don’t drink,” his voice is firm with an acidic edge, berating my obvious condition.
Looking up at him through my beer goggle eyes, I stutter joyfully, “Oh…hi Callum. This is my date.” Turning towards the person sitting on the couch next to me, I take in his face trying to recall his name again.
Callum chimes in, interrupting my thought process, “Conner, what in the bloody hell did you do to her?” His voice is thick with disdain as he bends down, tenderly examining me, “How many has she had?”
Conner’s erect body and blazing eyes reveal his disgust with Callum’s apparent arrival, “I have only given her what she’s asked for.”
“– Except food,” I slurred out.
“She has had all this alcohol…” he points to the multitude of empty glasses lining the table in front of us, “…on an empty stomach? You bloody wanker! She doesn’t drink! And you gave her all those Stouts on an empty stomach. Do you realize what you could have done to her?”
“She wasn’t acting like someone who doesn’t drink. Besides, she was drinking them faster than I could give them to her,” he adds gratuitously, in a pompous tone. His shrilling voice rings in my ears, sending sharp needles piercing into my brain.
“Ouch!” Grabbing firmly onto my head, I close my eyes adding, “Conner, your voice is killing my head, do shut up.”
I hear a small snicker push out of Callum in a satisfying manner. Putting his arm around me he tenderly lifts me to my feet, causing the room to move even more with vertigo, “Come on Breanna, I am taking you home to bed.”
Looking up at his striking face I take in his strong, chiseled features, blazing caramel eyes, and a soft, sumptuous mouth, “You are so good-looking. It is about time you take me to bed,” I mumble.
Shaking his head in dismay he hunches down, kissing me tenderly on the top of my head, adding softly into my hair, “I wish.”
Conner explodes off the couch, staring at Callum with blazing eyes, standing in front of him and preventing us from leaving, “You aren’t taking her anywhere! She is my date and…”
Instantly Callum slugs Conner square in his face, knocking him over a club chair and flinging his flailing body down to the ground. Conner’s hands instantly ricochet up to his face, covering his now bleeding nose. A slight whimper rolls out of him, sending blood splatters all over his hands. “Blimey! You broke my nose!” a suppressed cry tickles the edges of his voice, causing his words to quiver slightly.
“Good! You bloody arsehole! And if you know what is best for you, you will stay down there on the ground where you belong, you slimy snake, or I’ll pummel you again.” Wrapping both his arms around me, he nearly carries me out of the pub.
As soon as the crisp, cool air hits my face, life jolts back in me like being thrown into a cold shower, causing me to suddenly become aware of my nauseous state, “Callum, stop. I think I am going to throw-up. Quick, take me to a bathroom!”
Walking me over to a dark corner of the alley lined with bushes and low shrubbery, he demands, “Go here, because I am not about to let you walk into a bathroom alone. You are staying by my side.”
“Callum, I am not going to throw-up right h…” my words are cut off by a thick, vile substance choking its way up.
He grabs hold of my hair, pulling it back away from my face as he places his cool hand on the back of my neck. A tingling sensation ripples on the soft surface of my overheated skin, causing a light shimmering of sweat to wash over my body. His cool hand placed on the back of my neck slowly begins lowering the temperature of my boiling blood. Though I was able to expel some of the poison from my body, I am still feeling nauseous and weak. Slowly I stand back up, wiping my watering eyes and mouth with the edge of my sleeve.
“Here,” Callum hands over a white linen napkin with an embroidered boar down in one corner of it.
“Where did you get this?” I weakly ask.
“I nicked it on our way out of The Black Boar. I figured you were going to be leaving a pavement pizza and would really appreciate having something to wipe your face off with,” a dense layer of satisfaction and anger ping-pongs out of his voice, like he is unsure whether to yell at me or laugh at me.
Slowly standing up I gaze into his tormented eyes as I hold tightly onto the napkin, covering my rancid breath. “Thank you,” I whisper against the cloth.
Silence looms between us as his eyes pour down upon me with an expression of discontent, “I am so bloody angry and disappointed right now. I don’t know whether to verbally flog you or go back in there and beat Conner back to hell!” A firm tone of seriousness cuts through each word as if it isn’t a threat, but simply stating what he is about to do. He begins pacing back and forth within the narrow alleyway, slightly kicking the bottom of each wall as he alternates between them. His hands are aggressively clinched together, fighting back the urge to verbally assault me and then beat Conner.
Pulling the linen napkin away from my mouth I firmly add, “Why in the hell are you mad at me? I just did what you and every other stupid British person do here…drink.”
Hastily he stomps over to me, standing just inches away from my face, causing me to instantly cover my mouth again. Peering down right into my eyes with his now solid caramel color eyes, he clarifies resolutely, “You don’t drink! And now, neither do I!” His eyes hold mine prisoner as he berates me with his searing look, “What would Andrew think about your actions?”
Fury explodes within the pit of my gut, expelling out a toxic surge, causing a subterranean quake to roll just under the surface of my skin. Gripping my hand into a tight fist I vigorously take a swing at him. My hand instantly stops against his. Clutching onto my hand with both of his, he steadies my wobbly, drunken state as I nearly fall to the ground. Attempting to pry my hand from his I tearfully utter, “How dare you…” My tears now freely flow as I drop down to the ground, realizing the price I just paid for my choice. I have betrayed Andrew, but most of all I have betrayed myself. I gave into the vile medicine which rips your heart out, destroys your dreams, but most of all takes your choices from you, leaving you a slave to its call. I have seen the ugly side of alcohol and yet I still chose to embrace its seductive call.
Callum bends down next to me, enveloping me within his warm grasp. Several bystanders outside of the pubs are watching my emotional breakdown, which I am sure is being heightened by the alcohol pulsating through me. Callum relinquishes his grasp on me as he stands up, pulling me with him, “Come on. I will take you home.”
We walk into my flat. Callum’s arms are still around me for suppo
rt as the vertigo, caused by the alcohol, still has a firm grip on my mind and body. Suddenly a high pitch shrill comes from the far corner of my flat.
“Ah! Miss Hayes, are you alright?” Miss McNally anxiously belts out, observing my…questionable state.
“She will be fine. She is just going to have a bloody headache tomorrow,” Callum utters as a slight laugh ripples within his voice.
“Oh my dear, next time you need to slowly sip your drinks, not devour them,” she states in a crisp, clear accent, demonstrating her poise and sophistication.
“Thank you, Miss McNally, but trust me, there will not be a next time. I am done with alcohol. You can sip that shit as much as you like, as for me – keep it far away from me.” Miss McNally’s eyes bulge in complete shock with my sudden use of foul language. A sharp laugh explodes out of Callum’s mouth. Instantly he tries to stop his laugh with his hand. Feeling another wave of nausea come over me, I utter quickly, “I’ve got to go to the bathroom.”
As I rush over to my tiny bathroom I hear Miss McNally ask Callum, “Should I stay here tonight, in case Noah wakes up?”
“No, I will stay and take care of them both. You can be dismissed now. Thank you, Miss McNally.”
Closing the door to the bathroom I proceed to splash my face with cold water, trying to soothe the revulsion spinning in my stomach. Needing to get the nasty taste out of my mouth I begin vigorously brushing my teeth, scraping the scummy taste off of my tongue. Looking in the mirror at my disheveled reflection, I see the horrific effects alcohol has had on me tonight. Stripping down to my birthday suit I jump into the shower, washing off the night’s rancid smell and smoke coating my body and hair. The water and soap strips my skin of the events from tonight, washing them down the drain. Drying my body off, I now smell clean and fresh, my mind is still a foggy mess though as if my thoughts and actions are being decided for me by some foreign being residing within me. I have very little control over what I am doing, let alone saying. I am so grateful that Callum is staying to help with Noah tonight. There is no way I can be a good mother right now. I have no idea how I survived with my alcoholic mother without getting seriously injured or even dying in the process.
Wrapping my hand around the doorknob to walk out, I suddenly freeze realizing I only have the clothes from tonight in here, and I am not about to put them back on. Enveloping my towel tightly around me, covering up all the important parts, I gingerly open the door, trying to sneak into my closet size room. As I walk out I notice Callum sitting in the blue checkered chair he had bought for me. His eyes are firmly locked onto me, taking in every nearly exposed detail. An uncomfortable wave of insecurity mingles with my relaxed inhibitions, causing a conundrum of emotions to twist around within me.
My mouth blurts out, “I guess it is only fair you see me out of the shower, since I saw you.” Immediately I want to slap myself for blurting out the one event that still rings vividly within my mind. Incessant images of his naked body pop in my mind like an instant replay button constantly being hit, burning his image into my mind.
A smile tickles the corners of his mouth, giving me a tantalizing grin. His eyes give a slight mischievous wink, as he scans down my body, then back up, peering into my eyes with a surreptitious look, “If I remember correctly, this is not even close to being fair…you have a towel.”
“I can always make it fair,” I quickly stammer out. My inhibitions and usual self-control have fully been possessed by the lingering effects of the alcohol.
His eyes narrow in a disdainful look, bringing his thick brows nearly together, shielding his true emotions. Standing up he walks dolefully towards me, causing my heart to pound nearly visibly against my slightly exposed chest. He stands just inches away from me, causing my hands to tremble against my towel and then suddenly he snaps, “Is this some kind of joke to you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is this you speaking or the bloody alcohol? You cannot play with my emotions like this,” his eyes pierce deep into me with more than just rage.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge. You have had no problem playing with my emotions. Yes I want you, but you know we can never be together. You don’t think it is tearing me apart? When I leave next week, I will be going home to nothing. You, on the other hand, will have your family‘s support and someday a wife you will love more than me.”
“Bloody bullshit, if you think I will love anyone more than you and Noah,” his voice, though quiet, pulsates with rage and frustration.
“You may not love her more than Noah, but you will love her more than me. You may have a bond with him, but I am just another girl to you.”
“Just another girl, my bloody arse. I love you. Do you hear me? I love-you!”
He pulls me aggressively against him, enveloping me in his firm, muscular arms, imprisoning me within his control. He leans down just inches away from my mouth, causing his sweet breath to wash over my damp skin, exploding my body with goose-bumps. A smile spreads across his face, “I love when your skin reacts like this, when my breath hits you,” his breathing transforms to hot waves quickly pouring down on me. Matching his grip I embrace him fully, giving in to the possessive desires ringing in my head. Gripping my wet hair in his hands he pulls my head back, tenderly stroking the soft surface of my neck with just the supple tips of his lips. Pausing just under my chin, he begins to slowly drag his full bottom lip up my neck, stopping on the point of my chin. I hold my breath while quivering waves of pleasure cascade down my legs, sending out an explosion of butterflies to inhabit my core.
My breathing quickens to a ragged beat, with a slight shudder pulsating through me, causing my legs to weaken slightly. Gripping onto me tightly, he supports my weight as he bends me back into a near backbend while his mouth still strokes my neck. His tongue now takes over where his bottom lip left off. His tongue traces up my chin, stopping just at the base of my full lower lip. Our breath now intermingles as he slowly pulls me back up to a standing position. Our bottom lips scantily touch, causing a need to pulsate through me like wild horses thundering throughout my chest. My heavy breathing expands my tingling chest firmly against the binding towel, which is now in the way. Reacting on my need, my tongue slowly strokes his soft, supple lip, causing an exquisite moan to roll from him, merging our exhalations into one breath of pleasure.
Opening my eyes I notice his soft caramel eyes gazing upon me with a flaming intense love surging within him. He holds me locked into his loving gaze as our hearts beat as one. Leaning in he presses his mouth against mine, releasing our carnal desires. An aggressive need rips through us, as we begin thrashing at each other wildly. My breathing increases to a dangerous level as I lift myself up into his awaiting arms. My mouth is biting at his bottom lip, holding it captive within my nibbling teeth. He presses me against the wall near my room as his hand tenderly slides up my thigh.
My rough, panting voice pleads to him, “Please take me to bed before I leave. Give me something to remember you by.”
He suddenly stops kissing me. A wave of frustration vibrates through him, causing his body to tremble. Slamming his fist firmly yet quietly against the wall next to my head, he roars, “No!” A quick breath rushes out of his mouth, continuing with his rant, “Damn it Breanna, are you still planning on leaving?” His hot air rolls against my neck.
A heavy sigh pushes out of me as I hang against the wall, still supported by the weight of his body pressing against mine. Hesitantly I answer, “Yes, I will not ruin your life or your family’s life. I have to leave – your mother wants me to leave.”
Dropping me down to the ground he walks away, trying to regain some kind of control. Turning towards me he states flatly, “To hell with my mother. Don’t you care about what I want? When I take you to bed it will be for love, not need, and definitely not an alcohol-induced need, either. Until then I will not bed you.”
Disappointment swirling with anger pushes out of me, “You will have sex with some random slut, but you won’t
have sex with me!” I shout.
“That is correct.” He now stands inches away from me, making sure I clearly understand his demands, “I don’t want to have sex with you. I want to make love to you.”
“But I do love you and you love me, too. So what is the problem?”
“You are choosing to leave. And as long as that choice resides within you it is not the kind of love I want from you.”
Paroxysms of fury expel out of me, “Then leave. If you are so stubborn that you refuse to see where I am coming from, then I don’t want you.” My anger is holding my tears at bay as I berate him.
“I am not the one being stubborn here, you are. Besides I don’t want to leave you and Noah alone while you are still under the influence…”
“I am fine! Besides Noah and I are no longer your concern. Leave!” I aggressively push him towards my door.
Opening the door he turns to face me, “Good-bye, Breanna. I hope you find happiness in the life you have chosen.”
I watch him walk out the door, causing my heart to drop to the pit of my stomach with regret. An empty feeling envelops me as the word stubbornness reverberates, rolling around within my mind. “Who is the one really being stubborn here?” echoes in the far corners of my mind.
An Act of True Love
It is the last day of my class, my final exam and the day before I leave. These past few days have been the most emotionally draining on me. My capricious emotions have teetered on the edge of insanity at times. My heart screams at me to stay while my mind points out the logical reasons behind my escape. My mind took a turn for the worse when mine and Noah’s airline tickets showed up at my nearly empty flat.
The day after Charlotte Hughes’ surprise visit she sent for the removal of Callum’s baby crib and dresser, leaving me only the beautiful club chair to deal with. Luckily my flat came completely furnished, giving me very little to have to ship back to America. Sitting in the club chair waiting for Miss McNally to show up, I hold Noah tightly within my enveloping arms. His soft, ivory features melt effortlessly into my forearm as his eyes gaze up at me with an expression far beyond his understanding. Gnawing pain pricks at my heart, as I look down into Noah’s innocent face. I have tried to protect him from the life I was exposed to at such a young age, but I can’t stop it. He is so young yet he has lost his father, his next closest thing to a father, he is homeless, and has a mother who has given up on life. No matter how hard I have tried to give him a better life, his destination is paved by my stubbornness and cynicism. Bending down slightly I kiss the top of his forehead, uttering softly, “I am sorry.”
Never Forever Page 22