by Shelly Pratt
‘Hey,’ I say gently.
‘Sorry,’ she yawns, ‘it’s been a long day. Are you tired, too?’
‘No, I’m fine. Why don’t you strap into the middle belt and come rest your head on my shoulder.’ She does, without hesitation. I can smell her shampoo and well… Evie. I cuddle her closer and turn my head slightly to kiss her forehead, drinking in her scent while I keep my eyes on the road. The road is dark, with only the moonlight and car lights to guide us along. The darkness makes me bold, because you can kind of lose yourself in the other person without facing too many of life’s little realities.
Her warmth makes me content, really content, like I haven’t been in a long time. I have an epiphany which makes me realise that everyone I’ve been with since my high school sweetheart have just been fillers to numb the pain I’ve always felt over feeling helpless with what happened.
With Evie, things are different. She makes me feel and really see her, and the world, with my eyes wide open. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I know she’s the one who can make my life complete again.
Her body is slumped against me and long, deep breaths fool me into believing she’s drifted off to sleep. When she speaks, her voice startles the crap out of me.
‘Have you always been this nice?’
I pause for a moment, not really knowing how to answer, because yes, at the core of me I have always been a good stand-up kind of guy, and yet I know my wild drug-fuelled days will need to be addressed at some time. Oh, yeah, and then there’s the burden of disclosing just what went on with Karla, my high school sweetheart. That’s enough to leave a sour taste in my mouth. I’d hate to see what it does to this gorgeous girl I want to be my everything.
‘No, Evie, I haven’t always been this nice. Everybody has a dark side… even me.’
Seventeen
EVIE
I woke up this morning feeling a sense of wonder—almost like magic was afoot. It’s like I’m a princess in a fairy tale and Charming has finally arrived. Fate, at the very least, has stepped in and brought my ‘normal’ world to a crashing halt. In its place is a man and a life I only dare to wish I could keep yet, at some point, I know I’m going to have to say goodbye.
For now, I refuse to let those thoughts cloud my mood. Instead, I’m going to hold on to these newfound feelings of joy like my life depends on it.
We couldn’t see much last night, the dense forest secluding the cabins from the moonlight. I was surprised to meet a friend of Grayson’s in a little cabin on the edge of the property. Despite his sleepy looks and ginger hair standing on end, he didn’t seem at all shocked to find his mate and a woman that he’d never met before standing on his doorstep in the middle of the night. He welcomed us warmly before handing us a key, promising to catch up with us later.
Grayson navigated his truck to the edge of the lake, where the cottage we’d be staying in was positioned. The water gently lapped the grassy banks, looking dark and bottomless in the middle of the night. It seemed like the perfect setting for a romantic getaway, but it was more than that, and we both knew it.
I thought that perhaps we’d feel uncomfortable sleeping in the same cabin, shy with intimacies that normally long-term lovers would be used to. We didn’t, though. We did the normal things that people do before bed, like brushing teeth and getting into pyjamas.
I’d be lying if my knees didn’t go a little weak when Grayson walked out of the bathroom half naked. His curly, brown hair was more tousled than usual, as though he’d been messing it with his fingers all day. With that grin I like to think he wears just for me in place, he sauntered bare-chested to join me in the double bed. Not a queen size, the forced size constraints pushing us closer together than necessary. There was nothing uncomfortable about it.
He pulled me close, wrapping his long, muscular arms around my waist, spooning me and holding me tight. He smelled minty-fresh and masculine, the scent of him almost daring me to break free from his hold so that I could swivel round and kiss him full on the lips. I behaved, staying exactly where he had me, content to just have his arms around me. We fell asleep, just like that—unequivocally content and irrevocably, undeniably in love.
This morning, well that’s another story. I haven’t in the longest time woken up feeling aroused. Alex just doesn’t evoke those kinds of feelings in me. I’m still wrapped up in his arms, like his body has been a cocoon that has kept me safe all night. I can feel him pressed up against my backside, still snoring lightly as the morning bathes the cabin with its light.
Dust particles float through the air, unaware that the space now has new occupants. It’s furnished sparsely, but comfortably. While Grayson still sleeps I quickly slip into the bathroom to brush my teeth and pee. In the bathroom mirror I’m surprised by my reflection. I’ve got a serious case of bed hair and absolutely no make-up on. I haven’t looked like this since I was a teenager—so rumpled, I mean. I’ve got to say, I like it.
Normally I would invest several hours in primping and preening in the morning. Not today, hell no! I tie my hair up in a quick knot and brush my teeth. While I feel comfortable with Grayson, there is no way I’m inflicting my morning breath on him. That would just be gross.
When I return from the bathroom, Grayson is awake, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He hears me and looks towards me, a grin springing forth from his lips.
‘Morning, beautiful.’
‘Morning. How did you sleep?’
‘Not nearly long enough. Why don’t you come back to bed and snooze with me.’
‘Just as well I brushed my teeth then.’
‘Why? Do you plan on kissing me?’
I blush, thinking he’s come dangerously close to reading my thoughts.
‘No, I… ah…’
‘Well,’ he says, hopping out of bed, ‘I better brush mine, too, then.’
I laugh as he hurries off to the bathroom. I have to turn my back when he just drops his boxer shorts right in front of me, his white arse flashing me as he urinates in the toilet. It sounds like a horse pissing. I can’t help but giggle just a little. Clearly the man has no shame.
While he’s preoccupied, I jump back into bed and try to position myself so that I don’t look like I’m posing for when he gets back. When the tap gets turned off, I start to panic. In the morning light, there are no barriers between us. It’s good in a way, because I desperately want to ask him about the comments he made last night. I just don’t want to talk about Alex anymore. I’m so done with him right now.
When he emerges from the bathroom, the boxers are back in place, albeit hanging a little lower than usual so that his tan line is clearly visible along with the oblique muscles in his lower abdomen. They’re the ones that look like a V in case you didn’t know, and for women, we can’t help but follow the trail of those muscles all the way from the men’s hips down to their groins. It’s almost like they’re asking us to look there, which I think they are. My eyes are certainly preoccupied with the shape of his…
He clears his throat. Sprung—totally and utterly sprung. Now would be a good time to be embarrassed, but he doesn’t leave me hanging for long.
With a running jump, he slides underneath the covers with me, making me squeal like a real girl.
‘So, are we having fun yet?’
‘I love being here. It’s so quiet, not at all like living in the city.’
‘I’m glad, because I wouldn’t want anywhere to remind you of that place.’
He rolls onto his side so he can gaze at me better. Sometimes his look is so intense I feel like I’m under a microscope. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling at all, it’s more like he’s taking the time to really see me.
Slowly he ducks his head until his lips graze mine. They’re so soft and warm and inviting. Instinctively my hands reach to cup his face, wanting to feel him, to touch him while our mouths explore each other’s.
I may not know everything about Grayson, but I do know this—being with him feels like ho
me, and for the longest time, I’ve felt like an orphan.
Our bodies mesh together, enjoying the sensation of each other’s touch. He certainly had no intention of taking advantage of me last night, but right now, I’m not so sure.
He deepens the kiss before moving from my lips and trailing feather-light kisses down my jaw and neck. His touch makes my body respond in the only way it can. Deep within the centre of my core, the fire that had already been lit is now well ablaze.
Panting, he pulls apart from me.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you because I want you like crazy. This, though, is not what I want for you. I don’t want to rush you, especially with everything else going on in your life.’ A deep look of consternation crosses his face, a flare of anger quickly sparking in his eyes, as though the mere thought of Alex and the life I have with him could turn him into a murderous rage.
‘See? Nice. You are nice, Grayson, probably the nicest guy I’ve ever met.’
His expression softens. ‘I’m here for you, whatever you need.’
‘What happened to you, to make you think that you aren’t that guy?’
‘It’s not that I’m not good, it’s just that sometimes things happen to people which make them act differently.’
‘What happened?’ I whisper.
‘I fell in love.’
‘And that makes you bad?’
‘No, of course not, but my actions because of it were certainly questionable.’
‘What went wrong?’
His jaw clenches before he can speak. ‘I got her pregnant.’
‘Oh…’
‘She never told me. She just took herself off for an abortion and never even thought twice about it. She was my high school sweetheart. I thought I could trust her. I stupidly thought that we would be together forever, but the pregnancy was just an inconvenience to her. Without a word to me she just aborted the foetus. That would have been my child, my baby.’
‘Oh, Grayson, I’m so sorry. That must have been awful for you.’ I feel sick to think that he had to suffer through that kind of torment at such a young age.
‘It was. I was hurt beyond belief. I trusted her and she just threw it all away the day she didn’t confide in me.’
‘Whatever happened to her?’
‘I have no idea. The only reason I found out was because she had a complication from the procedure and was rushed to hospital with internal bleeding. Her parents blamed me. Heck, even I blamed me for a while because I was so mad at her for keeping it a secret. Even that, though, wouldn’t budge my mindset. I couldn’t go and visit her. I didn’t want to look at her because I was so consumed with hurt and betrayal. For a long while after, I was lost.’
‘That’s not your fault; she shouldn’t have kept something like that from you.’
‘That’s what I believe. It tore me apart, so much so that I stated using drugs just to numb the pain. Not long after I didn’t even know who I was anymore. I lost myself to an addiction that I relied on to take my problems away rather than face them. I was… weak.’
His voice breaks and I feel his pain.
‘I’m so sorry you had to go through that.’
‘It was a long time ago. I’m at a place now where I can live with the way things turned out a little better, but I still feel ashamed that I was so cold towards her and I stooped so low to use drugs to block out the pain.’
‘It happens to a lot of people; don’t feel like you’re alone in that.’
‘I know, but then there are those who don’t. They keep on living, because sometimes, the pain is the only way to realise you’re still alive. It took me a lot to learn that.’
‘Not everyone can do that, though. We can’t be strong all the time.’
‘You are. You amaze the hell out of me. To be honest, I may have stooped to all kinds of wicked ways just to get my hands on drugs so that I could self-medicate, but you, Evie, you have strength. Your life is hell and yet there is a part of you that still forgives, loves and laughs.’
‘Sometimes that feels like the only way I can keep from drowning.’
‘Well I want you to know that no matter what happens, I’m never leaving you. I will do everything I can to make sure you get your happy ever after.’
The passion and conviction with which he says those words makes my heart sing. To be so cared for by another human being is such a beautiful thing. I believe every word he says and I know, more than anything else, that I can trust him with my heart. He’s a keeper, that’s for sure.
Eighteen
ALEX
Stepping out of the limousine, the icy air bites, stabbing through me like the unseen knife Evie has already struck through my pride. I would have said heart, but I’d be lying my arse off. The flight was long, and all I really want to do is shower and shave, grab a clean set of clothes and hit the hay, but I’m sure Stavros has other ideas. Besides, the niggling thoughts swirling through my mind keep drawing my attention back to Evie and just what I should do with her.
There’s no sign of Stavros. Instead I’m greeted on the threshold by a butler of sorts who is eager to unload my modest amount of luggage. The residence is fit for a king with vast sweeping gardens and palatial stone walls all painted white. There are balconies, but no one occupies them in this weather. If you’ve ever seen the White House in person, you could say that Stavros’s place looks very similar, just on a grander scale.
Late afternoon will give way to the darkness soon, which suits my sombre mood. There are lights on inside, lighting the interior through crystal chandeliers. The décor is Stavros all over—decadent, opulent and showy. Not much has changed since I was here last although I know, more than anybody, that looks can be deceiving.
I follow the older man who has greeted me into the house and get my bearings in the foyer. The place smells like old money and cigars. It’s a smell I’m fond of—it defines success in my book.
‘My name is Winston, Sir; I’m the butler here for Mr Drakos. He’s asked you to kindly wait for him in the bar.’
‘No problem. Will he be long?’
‘I doubt it, Sir. He’s been informed of your arrival. Would you like me to show you the way? Get you a drink perhaps?’
‘No, I remember where it is, thank you.’
‘Very well, Sir, if that will be all. I’ll have your luggage taken to your room right away.’
I nod, dismissing the arse-licker as I head off in the direction of Stavros’s personal bar. I’m not uncomfortable to make my way through his home on my own. If I felt insecure or tentative in such situations then I never would have survived long enough to climb the corporate ladder with the speed I have. Instead I strive with purpose, as though I own the place while wishing like fuck that I did.
The bar is located at the far end of the west wing in a sunken lounge. Thick, plush carpet offers that ‘gentleman’s club’ feel. High-backed leather chairs are positioned around oak tables, but I ignore the comfortable seating for the amber scotch that’s hinting at me from behind the bar.
It’s still light enough in the day not to need the lights on in the room, although the vast amount of refrigeration that lines the walls behind the bar is enough to complement the ambience. I grab a tumbler and skip the rocks, opting to have my beverage neat.
The first sip warms as it slides down my throat. It’s not a cheap drop, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from the man of the house. All this time alone allows my mind and anger to start burning up again.
If there is one thing I will not tolerate it’s Evie’s deception. Right now I’m trying to decide which course of action would give me more satisfaction—ripping her damned head off or holding this over her and returning her to a lifetime of subjugation. Completely destroying her parents in the process would be most satisfactory as well. Another scotch is in order, I’m sure. I finish pouring one just as Stavros walks into the room.
‘Playing bartender now, are we?’
‘Hardly
. Want one?’ I wave the bottle from side to side, enticing him to join me.
‘I never say no to fifty-year-old scotch, Alex. Pour away, but bring the bottle with you,’ he says, heading for one of the leather lounge chairs. I grab another tumbler, packing it full of ice the way Stavros likes it, grab the bottle and head over to join my host.
I take the seat across from him, absently wondering what his terms for our contract will be. He’s poised, back rigid in the chair and fingers steepled together, as though deep in thought. He seems curious, although I have no idea what he’s curious about.
Externally he’s not changed. His dark hair is still slicked back with some sort of gel, and his clothes are as impeccable as always. With his Italian loafers and relaxed suit, he almost looks like a young Andy Garcia from the Godfather movies. Although in this case, I know Stavros Drakos is much more dangerous. The dark depths of depravity that reflect in his eyes tell me as much.
He lights a cigar, puffing greedily on the brown stick until the embers on the end are well lit. I’m offered one from his silver case and accept without hesitation. I don’t necessarily like the taste of cigars, but I love what they stand for.
‘How are you, Alex?’
‘I’ve been better.’
‘I’d have to say I agree, although your discontentment could end up being very beneficial to you. You know what I notice about you?’
‘What?’
‘You’ve changed. There’s an anger blazing through you that wasn’t there before. If I’m not mistaken, you’re a little bit more wicked than you used to be.’
I chuckle at just how apt his comments are. I seem to have forgotten just how observant the bastard is.
‘You are entirely correct, of course.’
‘Of course, but why is it that you seem troubled?’