“No, but … shit…I don’t reckon…I’m struggling,” I concede, and I feel the weight of it settle on my shoulders. Jarrod waits for a while, taking a long draught of his beer. His eyes trail around the room before studying something intently, his eyes narrowing at he thinks. “I realise the huge steps I’ve made with her, but it doesn’t seem enough. Not for me and I’m, well, not sure about her. She seems cool with it,” I add, remembering the heated look she sent me last night and the way she presses into me when I get enough courage to explore her skin.
“Whoa, didn’t picture Avalon like that,” he raises his eyebrows.
“And don’t start picturing her like it now,” I growl, instantly on edge.
His hands raise in supplication. “Not going there, dude. Just sayin’, she didn’t seem to have any experience, you know? She literally had no idea you had the hots for her.”
I take a swig of my beer to settle and a millimeter smile hits my lips at just how inexperienced that little minx is, and just how much her amusing attempts to be experienced torment me. Every inch of me.
“Is all this shit causing memories to resurface? Is that why you look buggered?” he asks after draining the last of his dregs and raising his glass for a refill. I do the same before answering.
“The nightmares are evil, and in a way, worse than after it all happened,” I realise the truth of that, maybe because I’m actively betraying my father daily and the guilt is tripping me up. Last night’s may as well sliced me with razor blades it was that scarring.
“I feel for you, man,” Jarrod shakes his head. “Does she know?”
“Mostly,” I relax as I remember her holding me and letting me grieve without any judgement. I love her for that. So much. See? A voice prods, he doesn’t know us. So what if she’s unpredictable?
“And how did she react?” He watches me closely.
“She said she would have kicked my dad’s arse,” I chuckle wryly.
“Please, that little bugger would have cut him up and mailed him somewhere atrocious,” Jarrod smiles too. “Your old man would probably have begged to return to the war.”
Jarrod stretches and heads to the bar, I ignore his conversation to the waitress and concentrate on pushing my father down to the recesses of my mind. I almost fell like ringing someone to talk about this and fix it but the thought of someone like Jennifer Campbell sitting opposite me on a couch causes violence to almost become palpable in my blood.
A few moments later Jarrod settles back across from me with something new on his face. He tips his head toward the bar, “What do you think of the waitress? Pretend you are single. Be objective and nice.”
I swallow uncomfortably at the thought but decide to give his exercise a shot. He’s not a Jennifer and I do trust him. I watch her for a second. She’s no Avalon, in any way, shape or form. There’s no mysterious fire purpose in her movements or mischief in her expression. While, I guess, she’s okay looking, she just doesn’t have that thing that Avalon does, who makes me just smile when I look at her... or apparently just think about her as my lips tug into a smile of their own accord, remembering what it’s like to receive one of those grins that tell me I light up her world.
The waitress flicks her eyes up and shoots me a smile, her hazel eyes flicking for a moment to Jarrod. I make an attempt to grow in this situation and keep the smile on my face, it turns to more of a grimace but still. I’m stoked I’m improving at relating to people.
Before I give him my reply to decipher, she arrives at our table reaching out her hands towards the empty glasses. But instead of collecting them she trips blundering into me. I catch her around the waist and struggle not to shove her roughly away. I wait until she has righted herself before dropping my burning hands. She breathes heavily for a second before raising her eyes to thank me. I nod and look away, my hammering heart pulsing blood to my muscles. I feel her gaze linger on me, her eyes drifting down to the large holes in my work singlet. I don’t return her attentions because the situation has just gotten way too much for me, I don’t like the feel of her on my hands at all and find clenching and unclenching them is not helping. She remains, and her observation of me seems to intensify as it lowers. I’m not sure whether it’s because I’m back with familiar company that my body reacts like it has a million times before, but I feel it leap to the surface in a millisecond. She moves closer to appear in my diverted eyeline and sucks her painted lower lip between her teeth. My jaw clenches and the monster gains another kernel of control. I’m exhausted enough to let it. Maybe it will rid me of the remnants of the nightmare. I succumb and shoot Jarrod an expression of pure pleading. I find him watching the interaction with more interest than previous times. His eyes narrow at my blatant plea.
“Thanks, sweetheart,” Jarrod tries to attract her attention.
She nods at him and turns again, smiling my way. Her hip touches the side of the round table and I clock the vibrations through it. I let a long breath slip out my nose and lean away. I don’t want her scent to permeate through my body. I hate that. Despise floral perfumes with a passion. Stay calm, I repeat. I will never smile at anyone again if this is the result.
“Anything else?” she stretches forward to reveal her ample cleavage. My voice has disappeared again, and my hands tighten into the comfort of fists and I feel the coldness spread like fury through my body.
I haven’t not changed.
I am the same.
I want to rip her throat out.
I know my eyes are dead pools as they leave the table and travel up her body to fasten on her face. Her breathe hitches as she takes a step back. I want to say I’m sorry, I was just trying to be nice but I’m too embedded in my nature to even attempt it with any real sincerity.
Jarrod jumps up suddenly causing the table to rock and slosh beer over its dark surface, I feel the chilly liquid trickle over my arm but am helpless to refrain from staring at the girl; inwardly giving her a countdown. Five. Four. Three. My coldness ices over further as she continues to remain. Please, please leave. Two. Jarrod grabs her arm and hastily leads her away. He spends considerable time soothing her, I guess.
“What am I going to do?” I feel my face crease in stress when he returns, the cold stinging the edges of my sanity. I’m still the old me. Nothing has changed, if something goes wrong, I’ll most likely hurt Av. I can’t believe I thought I’d made progress.
“I don’t know, mate, we will come up with something,” Jarrod makes no move to physically placate me obviously seeing the coldness still present in my entire body. “I think that was the wrong approach.”
I don’t know what he means.
“The safest place for me is inside,” I blow another long breath out, surprised I didn’t frost the glasses.
“No way,” Jarrod grasps the table. “We dealt with it this long, we will deal with it again. And this time we will find a way.”
“It’s not the same,” I close my eyes, exhaustion smothering me. “I love her. I have to do something, not just let this thing out whenever. I’ve been trying so damn hard to be better…”
“Maybe now you know you can be with someone; we try to find someone that’s a better fit…”
Jarrod’s eyes widen as he watches something over my shoulder, his words trailing off. Instantly, the feral beast inside me readies to show the waitress to leave a wide birth around me.
Then I hear her voice as someone turns it up and all quietens within me.
“Shit,” Jarrod breathes out as we both watch her. “…harder than I thought...” he mumbles under his breath.
I’m in big trouble.
People in the pub stand to gawk at the screen, including me. My eyes watch as the water cascades gently over that wickedly tempting face, pools over her mouth and I groan from somewhere deep inside as her tongue flicks out to capture the drops sparkling on her lips. The coldness that had decided to stay around is washed away with heat.
“I can see limiting yourself to holding hands with tha
t might be a tad tough,” Jarrod nudges me not taking his eyes off the screen.
“You think,” I almost snarl as I watch the camera follow a droplet that trails down her neck, over her collar bone and down over the tops of her breasts.
“I’m going to kill whoever is filming this,” I tense all over but can’t make myself leave to go and find whoever it is.
A single droplet continues down her stomach and over her bikini bottoms to her legs. I’m done. My throat is parched, I’m swaying and not sure at all what to do in this situation. I can’t be in the same room as her anymore, not after this. This will be burned in my memory for ever. My fingertips itch to trace that journey made by that single droplet. “I’ve got the answer,” I say lowly. “Chain me up.”
“I reckon we should do the opposite, let you out!” he replies.
I shove him ruthlessly.
My eyes don’t follow the chaos the push causes as they are glued to the TV. Holy shit, I am in big trouble. I never knew that she was capable of looking like that. Provocative, electric blue eyes stare down the TV at me, taunting and teasing; wicked. I’m done. My body is drenched in the throes of something so dangerous I feel like hitting someone to get locked up to stop the all-consuming wave of it. To be safe from what my body is drowning in. Holding hands, focus on holding hands. No, focus on preg testing cows with arm length gloves. No, that is so leading to other thoughts. Shit.
Someone that’s a better fit. That’s what Jarrod just said. Someone normal, predictable and not so tempting. Too late.
Av faces the camera again and all I can see is her lips, full and plump as they move, they seem to be calling my name over and over like the Goddess of Seduction. I don’t hear a word she actually says. I can feel my father there, but it’s like he’s behind a thick bank vault door banging relentlessly. There is something rising that I have only ever just tasted at the hospital, and it terrifies me. I shouldn’t be near her today. I just know my father will break through that vaulted wall at the wrong moment.
“What the heck?” Jarrod is back beside me and his wet shirt sleeve sticks to my arm.
What the hell?
There in the background, behind my goddess of a girl, leaning against the pedestrian pole is… me. Pretty much naked apart from steak bikini pants. Not my legs… glowing white but everything else is me.
The hot breath flies out of me and I’m stumped and calm all at once.
And I realise, as a smile touches my lips, one thing is certain; unpredictable is just what I need.
Voldemort’s chaos
Avalon
Rain drops splash gently on my face and I shout internally in extreme gratitude; I must do this inside to try and keep up the ‘soft, innocent’ appearance Mr. Mastermind ‘strongly suggested’. Screaming like a banshee and dissolving into my crazy rain dance might not fit into the very narrow and unfamiliar criteria. I have only decided to attempt it for the whole ‘infiltrate’ thing he threw out there. It appealed to me to be welcomed in somewhere, somewhere where people treat you like you don’t have much a of a brain, and then be secretly sabotaging with my full neuron power intact. I’ll try this softie business for that reason alone. Not sure what I’m supposed to sabotage but it’s attractive to my soul anyway.
Pop did allude to something else before I don’t quite get; he said, “Oh the fate that put you in cohorts with a veteran hostel’ and then bestowed on me yet again a look again like he was waiting for something to click with me. I parallel it to a look you would give the dirt mound of a freshly dug grave, knowing that the inhabitant was going to dig themselves out as vampire soon. What did Pop envisage I was going to become?
Better stop thinking of vampires. I love the rain and the song I’m singing isn’t wasn’t a random choice. I’d felt the telltale stiffness in Frank’s hind leg where the croc had gotten him as I had ridden him over the bridge. This always happens just before rain; even if it’s only like this display; a sun shower. It also plants the disguised seed in the people I will sabotage that I’m just a girl, so they won’t even think of me when whatever I do comes the pass; again, not that I know what I’ll be sabotaging. People’s imported sauce supplies or something, or maybe I will go undercover and right all the cemetery wrongs. Professional cadaver relocator.
The touch of each drop is sheer pleasure as it rolls over my face. Nathan and I love smearing ourselves with red dust and turning our faces to the clouds and let the rivulets of water turn our faces and bodies into crazy artscapes. Once we even pulled out mum’s white silk pillowcases and pressed our rainscaped faces into them. She went bananas. We were miffed she didn’t want to frame them as keepsakes. Mum was never like mothers on TV that stuck their kids artworks up, proud as punch, well, not for me and Nathan at least.
I let my tongue swipe my lips to taste if this rain is as delicious as at home. It’s not; it has a slight aftertaste and doesn’t taste like the cool, thirst quenching nothingness I’m used to. But it is cool and the sensation of each drop over my hot, itchy skin is bliss; almost halting the gripping need to wrench the damn wedgey chafing relentlessly at my bum, and if not the wedgey; Frank’s coarse hairs that are caught under my bikini are really annoying. If the damn cameras zoom in too close, someone’s bound to ring and hound me to pose for that hairy mag Nathan was talking about. They will probably be very aggressive about me doing it too, as I appear to possess a rare, hairy nipples gene.
I keep my eyes closed as I scramble to think how the hell I will say what I’ve got to say in a ‘nice, soft, inviting, heart pulling,’ way. My hair starts to stick to my face and back and as it falls, it reminds me of Noah’s fingers trailing over my skin. I sneak a glance at my stand in ‘Noah’ smiling mischievously and an easy smile pulls at my lips.
This has to be one of Nat’s best ideas yet. I can’t believe almost didn’t tell him and harboured thoughts that he might not come through for me in this; that he’d be deliberately not helpful. My monster isn’t going to know what hit him. He will be so wanting to take this Noah’s place, maybe not the steak bikini part but all the rest.
I finish up my song, playing at being just a girl.
Time to be soft and everything else Pop tried to impart my way. I let the air slowly escape before I draw it back in again. As I said, fiery spontaneity is my thing, this stuff makes me feel like a husk.
“If I may?” I ask the camera, hoping that I sound polite and stuff. They nod enthusiastically. Here goes, I try to dampen the fire that burns within me to a dull ember. It’s hard, so I envision I’m Kelsey in all of those social media posts with Seth, all proper and refined. A talking mannequin.
“I also would like to pray for one more thing,” I start, my voice sounds irritating to me own ears, but the press people lean close with their microphones, so I take that as a good sign. “I would like to pray that each and every person in this amazing country, will take one minute of their hectic time to choose even just one Australian grown and made product, each and every time you shop. I pray this with all my heart as it would make a massive difference to people just like me,” I throw in my puppy dog eyes, just in case. Hey, if they work on the males in my family and Noah, they should work on the unsuspecting normal people out there, “and animals just like my baby here, Smithson’s Sir Frank Colossal.”
I can’t help the spike of defiance that colours my voice and I arch my eyebrow slightly aiming it at good old Dad. Take that for not trusting a tops daughter! I push the achievement bubble down with a huge stab of willpower and continue making myself somewhat ill. It’s not the message but the delivery. Ugh. It must suck being Kelsey, having to control yourself every fricken minute. Infiltration better be worth it. I catch Nathan’s eye and he nods minutely, seconding that it better be bloody fantastic. His fingers tap out ‘Soldier’. I reply I’d rather a gun. Old MM would have to sprint for his life.
“I pray that every person that sees this today will do that one thing for me,” I’m lost so I throw the only thing in my girl arsenal a
t them again; my puppy dog eyes, if it works, I will go home and make myself a sign on my door, saying KING OF PUPPY DOG EYES. Refuse me at your own demise.
“And if you are interested in helping out people like me even further, you can donate to the number on the bottom of the screen. I would really appreciate it,” I smile because Frank is nuzzling my hair and then laugh as I feel my tomato headband being assaulted by his tongue. Frank saves me from having a go at the tilt and flick by spraying me with juice and seeds as the ripe tomato pops in between his teeth, then cleaning me up by licking the resulting mess off my face.
The reporters are lapping this up, but I want to go now, I need to get a new book from the massive bookstore I spotted just up the road and keep filming my ‘look Noah, this is how it would be’ stuff before Pop is due at the doctors. I’ve done my time, and it wasn’t at all how I thought it would be. Bloody MM won’t be on my next mission.
I glance back at ‘Noah’ and grin. I notice the cameras follow my gaze, so I leave Frank eating my accessories and stroll towards the lifelike Noah cardboard cutout, well mostly it’s Noah, the bikini bottoms were mine and Nathan posed in them to get Noah some legs and we kind of had to bend them so this Noah could ride Frank with me. We used a shot he had teased with me on my phone and it had only been down to his short line. If he sees this, he’s going to love that I thought of him! It will be like broadcasting I wanted him with me on TV! Best girlfriend here.
“Avalon!” Pop’s voice rings out and just for a second I want to ignore it as, well, I’m rather scared he’ll give me the hand signal to get back to being soft and crap. But I’m trained too well. I turn to see him pointing. I follow his finger line and when I see it, I gape.
Someone is crossing the road dressed like Voldemort! In black from head to toe, with a long hood type thing and everything. How cool, well it would be mega hot, but how cool just cruising around like that.
“Deatheaters to me!” I yell out but the Voldemort doesn’t swing around, maybe they have headphones in or something.
Avalon Expandable Heart: The Wild Heart Series Page 46
