Beautiful Pain
Page 8
“All right then, time for a surprise,” added Mason, smiling.
“I don’t like surprises,” she laughed.
“Don’t worry it’s not a scary surprise,” muttered Mason. “Anyway, let me take care of the bill.”
“No, no, no! We are going to split it,” protested Sophia.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Sophia. I invited you so it’s my treat.”
She had to give in, but she told him that she was going to pay the next time … if there was be a next time. She became tense again thinking about Mason’s plans. She hated surprises, but he quickly waved off her worries when he took her to the small club that couldn’t compete with the large one across the street.
“Don’t worry, we’re only going there for a drink,” he whispered into her ear. Sophia wasn’t sure what Mason was planning, he obviously had something in mind. Surprisingly the club wasn’t what Sophia expected as they stepped straight into Spanish music.
On the dance floor several couples were dancing Salsa. The lights were bright and the atmosphere fun and quirky. She was staring, mesmerized at the young dark haired Spanish teacher that was giving suggestions to everyone around.
She glanced at Mason, who was staring at her reaction and looking slightly worried.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I thought that dancing could be fun,” he said, sounding uneasy.
“Well, I’ve never done this before,” she replied loudly, biting her lips. She was never into dancing, but she was willing to give it a go, plus everyone looked like they were having fun.
“Me neither that’s why I thought about this, we both can make fun of each other,” he chuckled and pushed her towards the floor. Fortunately for Sophia today’s lesson was for beginners so she picked up the steps pretty quickly. Mason wasn’t a great dancer, but he was following the instructions of the teacher with a great precision. They were doing the best they could and after about two hours Sophia was laughing so much that she couldn’t control herself. The teacher gave them some suggestions and they had both made slight progress. Before eleven they still had time to get a quick drink at the bar.
“Thank you for this, I had a great time, but I still can’t dance Salsa,” Sophia said while Mason was driving. Her dress was stuck to her back, but she didn’t care that she was sweaty and flushed. She enjoyed herself a lot with her date.
“I made an absolute fool of myself,” he marveled. “I promise that I can only get better.”
“It didn’t matter. We had fun, thank you.”
“No, thank you for agreeing to go out with me.”
When he finally stopped in front of her apartment, her anxiety slipped through her skin, filling her belly. Mason looked at Sophia with those dangerous dark eyes, probably trying to guess if the agreement about the kiss was still there. She pressed her hands together feeling hesitant and tense. She wasn’t expecting him to make a move.
“Sophia, I would like to see you again,” he said in a low, silky tone.
“I will be quite busy in the next few days, so let’s see what we can sort out sooner rather than later,” she muttered and smiled, not sure what to do with her hands. His eyes scared her so she did what she thought was right and opened the door to get out of the car. Mason took her hand unexpectedly. The anxiety contracted through her stomach, moving along her blood stream. She pulled away, drawing a long breath.
“Have a good night,” he shouted when she was walking away, unaware what was going on with her. Once she was alone in the corridor she closed her eyes and started breathing. She couldn’t push away the feeling that she was drowning again. Her skin was burning, she felt lightheaded and nauseous. The blood rushed to her head leaving her drenched with sweat. She needed to release that pressure; the vein on her forehead throbbed. In the lift, she started hearing the voices of her parents telling her that she couldn’t forget about them. Demons were circulating underneath her, pulling her into deep dark waters. With the last strength she thought she had she entered the apartment. Vanessa wasn’t at home, so Sophia went straight to the kitchen and opened the drawer. She saw the long shiny knife and took a sharp intake of breath. The penetrating sharpness and perfection were talking to her. She had to use it to get back to her normal self, outflow the darkness and her demons. She remembered the liberation and the beautiful pain.
Her hands were shaking when she touched the handle, her lower lip started to tremble with anticipation. She couldn’t breathe and there was blackness in the edge of her vision. Demons were laughing at her, insinuating she wasn’t strong enough to cut her skin again.
She slammed the drawer and sat down on the floor, hiding her head between her legs. She couldn’t ruin everything; she had to get rid of those destructive emotions.
Those sensations were raw and tender. She lay on the floor for several moments, taking deep, calming breaths and trying to gain control of her spiraling emotions. Her heart was pounding in her chest, so she lifted herself and opened the drawer again. She took the knife, hearing the voice calling to her that this was the only way. She lifted her shirt and slashed her skin just above her ribs.
Then she threw the knife on the floor. That blissful moment came, but only for a second or two, then she felt the sharp throbbing pain and it was too late to take back what she had done. The terror blazed through her body. Tears started streaming down her face. She lifted the knife above the floor and opened the tap. She needed to get rid of the evidence. After she cleaned it, she placed it in exactly the same spot, closing the drawer.
She took her clothes off and went to the bathroom. She had to wash away everything that was left inside her. The dirt and filth that filled her soul. She scrubbed and brushed her body, whispering, “No more, no more!”
After her body was red and sore she went to bed, wanting to never wake up again. She heard Vanessa coming in half an hour later, and she was waiting for her friend to barge in to her room, asking her what the hell she was doing to herself. Vanessa never came and Sophia fell asleep.
When she opened her eyes in the morning the memories from last night swamped over her. She couldn’t believe what she had done. It’s wasn’t Mason’s fault, he only took her hand and told her that he appreciated the time that he’d spend with her. He wasn’t going to kiss her, but still she lost control. It took her three years to make progress and last night she ruined everything.
She got dressed and went to work, trying her hardest to function. Once she was in the office it was easy to forget what happened to her last night. When she was telling other people what to do, how to fix their lives, she felt so much better. At work she didn’t have to worry about fear, anxiety, panic attacks, and everything else that was making her unstable. She was confident, ready to deal even with the most unpleasant clients. When she was sitting eating lunch she wondered why she couldn’t be like that after work, why it was so difficult for her to deal with her emotions. She needed help, and blaming her parents for her state of mind wasn’t helping. Mason texted her a couple of times during the day but she couldn’t reply. Her gut was telling her that she was moving too fast, obviously she wasn’t ready for a date.
The next day she felt the same; emotionally unstable outside work and great in the office. She had to see Harry today in his own territory. He was expecting her at three o’clock in the afternoon at his house. This was what she was good at, evaluating other people. Maybe she was attracted to Harry, but right now that didn’t matter … she had a job to do.
She needed to get busy to forget about the other night. She’d probably ruined years’ worth of therapy, and that’s why she needed to avoid Mason for now.
Was she slowly losing her mind?
She shook her head and finished her sandwich, dismissing any attraction that she thought she felt for Harry. It was her mind playing tricks on her. She never had a type, but she thought she was suited to Mason. Harry was unpredictable, probably violent, and arrogant. That was a bad combination, suited for someone who didn’t have a dark past and emot
ional problems.
After lunch she saw two more offenders. She worked intensely for the next hour, leaving the building after two o’clock in the afternoon. She had to take a bus, plus she wasn’t sure where she was going. Harry lived quite far away from the Probation Office in the South part of the city. Susan briefed Sophia before she left; she told her to find out as much as she could about Harry’s family situation. He lived alone with his mother so she assumed that this was an easy task. Sophia had to investigate to see if she thought he was going to re-offend again; he was currently on license, so any incident with the police would send him straight to prison.
The ride on the bus was comfortable enough, but after forty-five minutes she was in an unfamiliar neighborhood. The houses looked gloomy with ashen faces poking out to the outside world. She walked for about ten minutes looking through her Smartphone. The alley wasn’t busy; a few youngsters passed by and gave her a smirking look. As Sophia reached Harry’s house, she started to think that maybe after this trip she was going to back off. His house looked exactly like any other house in the neighborhood: it was a semidetached made from grey brick. All the windows were shaded with curtains.
Sophia bit her lip as she knocked confidently on his door. She looked professional and her hair was flowing freely around her shoulders. Then he opened the door and the dread crawled through her chest up to her stomach.
Chapter Twelve
Her mind instantly reacted at the sight of a shirtless Harry standing in front of her. A nervous hit whipped through her body as he cocked his head to the side, staring at her intensely. He drifted his gaze from Sophia’s lips down to her neck, finally stopping on her breast, before moving his eyes back again. The air left Sophia’s lungs as she was trying to focus on his face, ignoring the tingling sensation in her core. She couldn’t possibly pretend that she didn’t notice the tattoo that covered his magnificent torso. A beautiful angel spread its large wings across his whole chest. His abs were tensed and his stomach was ripped. Sophia’s breath stalled. No one could possibly look so perfect.
“Harry, I hope Susan mentioned that I was going to come to see you today?” she asked, but her voice was cracked and she was sure that he sensed her shivers.
“Of course she did. Please do come in,” he replied, laughing under his breath.
Who in their right mind opens the door without a shirt on? she thought and stepped inside as her heart smacked her in the chest. Harry was sexy, there was no doubt about that. When his body wasn’t close she was able to think straight. She inhaled, easing the tension, but her head was still spinning.
She put her bag in the hallway and looked around. The corridor was bright and cozy. She inhaled, drowning in the scent of air freshener, soap, and blossom. He turned around to face her, still without his shirt on.
“This way,” he said, pointing at the first room on her right. As she walked in, Harry opened the curtains to brighten up the room. The space was much cleaner than she expected, although Sophia smelt a faint odor of tobacco. When she looked at him, he was still watching her with confidence.
“Would you be able to put a shirt on?” she asked, clearing her throat.
“Of course, Sophia,” he replied and walked away, smirking to himself. She made a mental note to erase the image of his torso from her mind. After a short moment, Harry came back wearing a green T-shirt. She exhaled, knowing that she had to stop showing him that she was nervous and intimidated by him. She came here to ask him questions and to do her job.
“So, Harry, you live with your mother? You’ve also got two brothers who are currently in prison,” she stated, remembering the report from the court.
“You are telling me what I already know,” he said dryly.
“I am just trying to get to know you a little better.”
“You are going about it in completely the wrong way,” he sighed.
“Is your mother available?” she pressed, shifting the subject.
“No, she isn’t.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes, keeping them anywhere else but on him. She wasn’t just going to give up. She was here to talk to his mother.
“Harry, we can do this the hard way or easy way,” she sighed. “I need to do my job and I have to ask about your mother.”
His deep chocolate eyes were looking at her with annoyance and admiration. His nostrils flared.
“Did you go out with that prick that we both saw on the street?” he asked, arching his eyebrow. He walked over to her and sat on the sofa, invading all of her personal space.
Her throat went dry and she completely forgot what she was going to say next. She felt the heat that ran through her, pulling her, urging her to touch his toned abs. Her body involuntarily reacted as heat gathered below her stomach and steam moved between her breasts. She was free from anxiety, but she didn’t know what was happening to her right now.
“I don’t know how this is any of your business,” she responded again, but her voice was husky. Harry licked his upper lip. Sophia could feel the warmth from his hard stare.
“He looked like a prick and only wanted to get into your pants,” he replied sounding serious, causing the eruption of warmth in her stomach.
She really wasn’t sure how to react. She didn’t even take her notepad out. She rose with the intention of walking towards her bag to retrieve what she needed for this evaluation. She only got as far as the door when Harry grabbed her by her waist and flipped her around. She was pulled towards his chest, facing him. She trembled and there was a sound from the back of her throat, half growl or half moan, Sophia couldn’t make it out. Shocked and paralyzed, she couldn’t move. Her nipples had gone hard, and her heart pounded. Shivers of bliss and pleasure shot through her, and the heat from his body made her forget that she was supposed to breathe. He lifted her chin, and before she realized what was going on, he pressed his lips against hers, tasting what was forbidden. Sophia felt the tingle that blossomed in her stomach when she realised what he was doing to her. Harry was kissing her, his lips were devouring her, hard and fast. His touch was hot and erratic bringing an uncontrolled ache that rolled down between her legs. His hand moved under her shirt, finding her bare, soft flesh and pulling her closer. Her lips parted for him; his tongue slipped to her mouth and she let him in. He sucked on her lower lips, turning his attention to her jaw as Sophia’s mind exploded with fireworks.
Then he stopped with no intention of moving his hand away.
“What is that, Sophia?” he asked, touching the fresh wound under her ribs, finding what she tried to hide. Sophia gasped and pulled away, heat rising to her cheeks. She smoothed her dress down, backing away. He made her forget why she was here.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. This shouldn’t even be happening,” she mumbled, stumbling back into the hallway. She never lost control like this. His touch was electrifying. It had awoken her and pushed away whatever fear grew inside her.
Harry narrowed his eyes and reached for her again, but she didn’t give in.
“Why are you cut, Sophia? What happened?” he asked more softly, but she wasn’t looking at him anymore. She wanted to hide, run away from those brown eyes. She was so glad that he didn’t understand her beautiful pain.
“I said it’s nothing, just a cut. Stay away from me. I will lose my job and everything that I have ever worked for if anyone reported me,” she hissed and wiped the sweat off her forehead. She recognized that look. His eyes were hard and his breathing shallow; he wanted her, and just a few seconds ago she was willing to give herself to him. And that kiss was unbelievable, the best that she had ever experienced. Everything came flooding back; her anxiety, depression, and scars. He couldn’t see any of that, he would never understand.
“Harry, who is this?” asked the faint voice from the stairs that brought them back to reality. Sophia looked up and saw a pale woman in a dressing robe walking down the stairs. She was skinny, and her skin looked ashen, grey. Her movements were slow but controlled.
“Mum, what
are you doing getting out of bed?” he asked and was beside her within a second. She looked at Sophia with confusion and surprise.
“Mrs. O’Donaghue, my name is Sophia. I am Harry’s probation officer,” she explained, aware that she was in a hell of a state. Her voice was less hostile but still uneasy. She was taken aback by Harry’s mother’s appearance.
“Probation officer?” she repeated the question, raising her eyebrow and looking at her son. Harry pursed his lips with irritation, hardening his eyes on Sophia’s posture.
“Yes, do you mind if I ask you couple of questions?” she asked, pulling her hair back. Her heart was still beating fiercely in her chest, more alive than ever before. She had to get something on her report and tell Harry that he had to stay away from her, their relationship was purely professional. That kiss didn’t mean anything, it wasn’t supposed to happen.
“Yes, I came here to find out a little bit about him. Do you mind if I move to the living room?” she asked shyly. Mrs. O’Donaghue looked out of place, her breaths were long and labored.