by Portia Moore
I feel sad for my friend. I remember her and Devon and how infatuated she was with him. He was beautiful, but Angela matched him, having caramel-colored skin, exotic eyes, and a face that could pull off short hair. She attracted men of all kinds, just never the right ones.
“Don’t we all,” I mumble before taking another bite.
“Well, at least we’re as not bad as Hillary. That girl could pick the devil himself out in a lineup.” She sighs.
“Yeah, the only good guy she had was Kevin, and she dumped him for that terrible jerk, Aaron.”
“God, I thought I could pick bad ones. She takes the cake though.”
My thoughts drift away from Angela’s voice. I remember all too clearly the night I saw how bad a man could be, and how truly helpless and lost a woman could be. That same night, I saw a side of Cal I never wanted to see again, but a small part of me was thankful it was there.
Chapter 10
April 2nd, 2009
“I’ll never get tired of this,” I say while resting my head on Cal’s chest. The roof of his building has one of the best views of Chicago.
“Then get used to it.” He smirks, unfazed.
I roll my eyes playfully and ignore him to look at the sky. I’ve grown quite accustomed to his aloofness over things that I’m fascinated with.
“I could stay here forever.” I sigh, gazing at the stars.
I glance at Cal, whose intoxicating gray eyes are allowing faint hues of green to shine through. God, when he looks at me like that…
“What?” I ask with a smile.
He laughs lightly. “You’re no good for me.” He wraps his arm tighter around my waist.
I look at him with a perplexed expression. “Why is that?” I ask playfully.
“You remind me of something,” he says quietly, and I arch my eyebrow in question. “It’s not another girl.” He laughs, feeling my unspoken jealously.
“Then who?” I ask curiously, and his smile softens.
“More of a feeling,” he mumbles, running his hands through my hair.
“Is that so bad?” I ask with a smile.
“I don’t know yet,” he says before he presses his lips against mine, pulling me into a sensual kiss. It still makes me lightheaded.
“No, you’re no good for me.” I giggle.
He smiles. “And why is that?” His fingers are trailing down my stomach.
“You distract me,” I tell him, ignoring the chills he’s giving me.
“From what?” He grins mischievously and continues his path.
“From things I’m supposed to concentrate on—like life, bills, school,” I rattle off.
“Well, that’s boring,” he states, starting to unbutton my shirt.
“You know everyone can’t live your life. Stealing away on jets, living in an expensive penthouse, doing whatever you please,” I tell him, trying to focus on my words and not the tightness in my stomach.
“Well, they should,” he says before his lips find my neck and kiss it hungrily.
“The world would be in chaos,” I explain to him as he continues to undress me. Little does he know, I will not be letting him have his way with me on this roof. I mean, I probably won’t.
“I’ve lived life the other way. It wasn’t too interesting,” he mumbles, pursuing my lips with his.
Before I get lost in his kiss, I pull away. “And when was this? In between you jumping out of planes or jumping off buildings?” I purr, wrapping my arms around him.
“Another lifetime.” He grins, massaging the back of my thighs. “This is how you should live.”
“I’m sure everyone would like to live like this, but this is a fantasy. You can’t live like this every day.”
“I do.”
“Well, that’s because you’re unique,” I tease him, remembering the word I used when Dexter asked me to describe him. It still seems to fit.
“Normal is boring; it’s getting up every day, working a nine-to-five job you hate, coming home to the little wife and monsters running around the house, then going to sleep and starting over again. I don’t want the highlight of my life to be getting a promotion and still earning less than fifty grand a year.” His voice is lighthearted, but there is seriousness in his eyes.
“Life doesn’t have to be like that. Marriage doesn’t have to be routine, and your kids don’t have to be screaming monsters.” I chuckle.
“Why work all your life with nothing to show for it, only wishing for things that you could never afford? Dreaming about places you’ll never get to go? I wouldn’t trade this for normality. It’s overrated,” he mumbles, getting up from the hammock.
“You make it sound like all you care about is money.”
“It’s not. It’s about living life to the fullest. Doing what you want instead of just fantasizing about it. You need money to do that,” he says as if it’s simple.
“There’s more to life than traveling the world and living in the moment, Cal. Those things are great, but what makes vacations enjoyable is that you’re getting away. If you’re doing it all the time, what’s the point? What about having a family, settling down?” I ask him.
“You hear what you said? Settle? I never plan to settle for anything,” he states.
His words sting me. Getting married and having a family is settling? Is this, now, all there is to him? Doing what he wants and not considering anything else? And where do I fit into this equation? I’ve been with him a year and I don’t really know. My feelings for him are getting stronger every day I spend with him, and all of these feelings are entangled with lust.
It scares me that I’m too afraid to ask these questions because, well, I’m not sure that I even want to know the answers. Cal is unlike anyone I’ve ever met. I’m important in his life today, but what happens when I’m not? I’ve seen how quickly he gets bored with things.
It was inevitable that I’d develop feelings for him after all the time we’ve spent together. He makes me feel like no one else has. A year has passed like moments, and when I’m with him, time isn’t really a factor. I wrap my arms around myself, feeling the cold now that I’m out of Cal’s arms. I let out a much needed sigh. My phone rings, and I ignore it.
“So is that what I am to you? A little bit of fun, something you just want to do for a while?” I ask.
He walks over to me and lifts me into his arms. “The reason you scare me is because you’re not,” he whispers in my ear.
I look into his eyes, feeling helpless. This man could easily break my heart. He stole it with a smile, and I don’t think I want it back.
“Do you want me to be?” I ask him, taking a cleansing breath.
He lifts my chin so I can see him. “Never.” He gives me a boyish grin.
He still gives me butterflies, and his touch has given me tingles since the time we first met.
“I’m still not entirely comfortable around you,” I say honestly.
“That’s a good thing; when you’re comfortable, that’s when you get bored.”
“Tell me what doesn’t bore you?” I ask him sarcastically.
“I can think of a few things,” he says with a mischievous grin.
My phone rings again. It’s the ring tone I assigned to Angela. She wouldn’t call me twice in a row unless it was something important, so I slink out of his arms to pick up my phone and answer it.
“Hey, Angela. What’s up?” I giggle, ignoring Cal’s hands roaming down my body.
“Lauren… Hillary’s here. I… I don’t know what to do… she doesn’t want me to call the police.” Her voice is shaky and high-pitched.
“The police? Hold on, Angie, what happened?”
Cal stops bothering me and looks on, concerned.
“She got into a fight with her boyfriend. She’s really bad, Lauren. I don’t know what to do,” she explains.
“He hit her?” I ask in disbelief.
“It’s really bad this time.” Her voice wavers as if she’s about to cry.
> Oh God, I can’t believe this! “This time?” I ask frantically.
“She didn’t want me to tell you. She knew you’d want to go to the police. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it’d go this far.”
I feel myself shaking. “I’m on my way,” I tell her quickly before hanging up. I can feel tears welling in my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Cal looks concerned.
“Hillary’s boyfriend beat her up,” I tell him quickly.
“Lauren, calm down. I’m coming with you,” he says adamantly.
“No, I need to do this alone.”
Dammit! If I hadn’t been living in fantasyland with him, I would have known how bad things were. I could have helped her. I haven’t been doing much of anything except Cal. I knew this guy was bad news and I ignored it because Hillary gushed about him so much. But if I had been home, I could have seen it; I would have known.
Cal holds my shoulders to steady me. “Lauren, this is not your fault,” he says, reading my mind. “I’m coming with you. You’re too upset to drive.”
I button my top up, shaking my head in defiance. This is a personal time for her; I’m sure Hillary doesn’t want me bringing him along.
“Let me help you,” he pleads, grasping my wrist as I try to walk away.
I can’t push him away if I want him to let me in. “Okay.”
“Angela?” I call. After I spot her sitting alone in the waiting area, I rush to her side.
When she called me saying they were going to the ER, my heart almost stopped at the idea that Hillary was hurt that badly.
“Hey, Lauren,” she says, hugging me tightly. Angela’s eyes are red and puffy; her hair is wrapped under a silk scarf. “Hi, Cal.”
“Hey,” he replies, taking a place beside me.
“Where is she?” I ask urgently.
“They have her in the back. She just got back from radiology. The last nurse I talked to says she has a broken rib,” she explains, her voice wavering.
“Oh my God,” I say, feeling my eyes water.
“It’s really bad; this is the worst he’s done. Her face is…” She breaks down, and I hold her, crying with her. “I called her parents. They’re on their way. It’s my fault. I should have done something. She kept telling me not to tell anyone and it was only when he was drunk.”
“This isn’t your fault,” I try to convince her. She only did what Hillary asked her to, but I wish she had at least told me. However, Angela’s word is her bond; she’s one of the most trustworthy people I know. “How could I not know this was going on?”
“I’ll go get you both something to drink,” Cal says, giving us needed privacy.
“When she called me, she sounded so normal. But when I got to your place and saw her, I… I panicked. I’ve never seen anyone look like that in real life, face to face. When you see what this jerk did to her—” She growls angrily.
“Did you call the police?”
“No. She told me not to, but the doctors have tried to ask me questions.”
I look at her as if she just lost her mind. I haven’t seen Hillary yet, but based on what she just described, I can’t believe they didn’t call them.
“I know, I know! But she begged me. When the doctors asked me what happened, she didn’t even want me to tell them,” she explains quickly.
“She doesn’t want him get away with this, does she?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“I honestly don’t know. It’s like he’s brainwashed her. I’m hoping this will be a wake-up call. But she said she didn’t want me to call the police or tell the doctors he did it to her,” Angela explains, still visibly upset.
A petite blonde approaches us. “Excuse me.”
“Lauren, this is Dr. Carsons,” Angela says, sniffling.
I reach my hand out, and she shakes it. “How is she?” I ask anxiously.
“She has a broken rib, facial swelling, various abrasions, and bruises. I’ve seen a lot worse; thankfully, there’s no internal bleeding,” the doctor explains.
I can’t believe this is happening.
“She’ll be fine. However, the detective would like to ask you some questions.” She gestures to Angela.
Angela looks at me skeptically, and I nod for her to go.
“Would you like to see her?” the doctor asks me.
I nod quickly, and she leads me to Hillary’s room. Dr. Carsons opens the curtain, and my heart stops as soon as I see her. Her face is so swollen and discolored, if it weren’t for her long blond hair with pink tips, I wouldn’t recognize her.
“Hey,” Hillary says, her tone surprisingly cheerful.
“Oh my God,” I mumble.
“It’s not that bad, Lauren.” She laughs weakly.
I walk over to her slowly and pull up a chair. “You don’t think this is bad?” I ask in disbelief.
“I mean, it looks worse than it is.” She sighs.
“Hillary, why didn’t you tell me?” I ask pleadingly.
“I didn’t tell anyone, Lauren,” she says softly.
“You told Angela.”
“She found out by accident. I didn’t plan to tell her. I didn’t want to tell anyone. I was embarrassed. I never thought I’d be the girl whose boyfriend beats her up. Like a bad Lifetime movie,” she kids. Her words are slow. I can only think how it must be painful for her to speak.
“Hil, this isn’t funny,” I say seriously.
“Well, what am I supposed to do, Lauren? Cry? Whine about how I was so helpless? I wasn’t. I chose to stay with him. It’s my fault, no one else’s. I just didn’t think it would get this bad.”
“This isn’t your fault, Hillary,” I assure her. I pause before speaking again. “How long has this been going on?”
She laughs mechanically. “About three months after we started going out, we had an argument when he was drunk and he slapped me. I was just so stunned. You know, I’d never been hit before. He apologized, saying he was just really out of it and he was sorry. That he’d never do it again. That’s the day all those roses came.”
I cringe; I remember saying how sweet it was.
“The next time it happened, he showed up at the house, drunk. You weren’t home. He was really out of it and wanted to drive home. I took his keys, and he, well—let’s just say that wasn’t the best idea.”
I cover my face in disbelief.
“He really is only bad when he’s drunk. He’s so sweet when he’s not. So I just stayed away when he drank. But today his friend had this party, and he was drinking. I thought it’d be okay since there were so many people around. I caught him all over this girl, practically about to make out with her. I was so pissed. I slapped him and threw a cup of beer in his face and I left.
“When I got home, he was waiting for me in front of the door. He was so calm…” She chuckles angrily. “I was pissed and told him to leave. He apologized and said how sorry he was and that he just wanted to talk… I let him in, like an idiot, and as soon as we were in the apartment, he went crazy on me. He’d never been like that before…”
“You should have never let him in,” I say, my throat burning and tears falling down my face.
“I know. I know now. Things just went from bad to worse,” she says.
“I can’t believe I never noticed anything.”
“No, Lauren. I was pretty good at hiding that fact and making excuses. Even if you had tried to do something, I wouldn’t have let you. Besides, he mostly made sure to never bruise me where people could see. I guess that should have been a sign that this wasn’t a first-time thing for him.”
“Still.” I can’t help but scold myself for not having the slightest clue this was going on.
“No still. This is my fault. I kept going back and forgiving him.”
“A man should never hit a woman!”
“But some do! I should have never kept seeing him after the first time he hit me. You know what’s really stupid? I cheated on Kevin with him because I thought Kevin was a jerk. Karma s
ure kicked me in the ass, huh?” She smiles weakly.
“I should have at least suspected. I’ve been so busy running around with Cal… I think I’m going to stop seeing him,” I say, taking a cleansing breath.
“What? Why!” she screeches. “Not because of this? Because this wasn’t your fault at all! I told you nothing would have changed…”
“No, not just because of this, Hil. It’s been a lot of things. When I’m with him, he makes me forget about the world around me, like the people I care about and what’s important to me.”
“Lauren, that’s not true. If it were, when Angie called you, you would have been like, ‘Screw you. I’m about to bang.’”
I laugh. I just don’t see how she can be in so much pain and still so playful.
“You were about to screw, right? Or just finished or…”
“Hil, stop,” I scold her playfully.
She sighs. “Seriously, Lauren, I’ve never seen you so happy before. A guy is supposed to put you on cloud nine and help you forget about your problems. I admit I didn’t like Cal at first, at least not for you. I thought he had trouble written all over him. I mean, I would know, right? Since I attract it so magnificently,” she says sarcastically. “But he’s stuck with you. I gave you guys three weeks tops, and here you are.” She sighs and squeezes my hand. “He’s hot, rich, and makes you smile. You could do a lot worse. A hell of a lot worse.” She chuckles.
“We’re so different. I feel like we’re on two different roads going in opposite directions. And he’s so unpredictable. What if he gets bored or…” I sigh.
“Lauren, that’s what falling in love is about. You take a chance. Sometimes you fall on your ass, or in my situation, it kicks you in the ass. But rarely do you get something amazing. You can’t hold back or keep your guard up. Don’t run from it, or you’ll miss something special.” She rubs my hand, and I hold it.
“What about when you lose it?” I ask.
“That’s the risk you take, but it’s worth it.” She yawns, holding her jaw in pain.
“You’re not going to see him again, are you?” I can’t read her expression since her face is so swollen.