by A H S Salt
Not in a hurry to fight back with someone bigger than himself the guy scattered to the bedroom. Cillian rushed towards me, standing over me as he helped me to my feet, holding my face in his hands, examining for any sign of injury.
“Jessica, are you okay? Talk to me” he said with a worried expression, keeping his hands on me firmly.
Unable to stop the tears.
“That’s the guy from the club…..he was going to hurt me” I cried.
Cillian’s’ jaw tightened “You’re bleeding,” he said anxiously, tilting my chin to see where it was coming from.
I raised my trembling hand to rub my lip.
“It’s okay, it’s just a little bit.” Shaking uncontrollably. I swiped at my face, wiping the tears away.
“Grab an overnight bag, you’re coming to my place. There’s no chance you’re staying here.” Not in the mood for more arguing, I nodded, agreeing. I passed Cillian, only he followed, shadowing me, refusing to let me out of his sight. Within seconds of entering my bedroom, Cillian lunged for the guy who pinned me to the floor. He had only managed to get his shirt and boxers on.
“Does it make you feel like a hard man attacking woman?” Cillian demanded to know, backing the stranger into the corner with another punch to the face. The guy crouched low and aimed his hand up blocking Cillian’s punches.
“She wanted it. She was begging for it” He taunted. Cillian grabbed the guy by the shirt flying into a fit of rage at his accusations, pushing him hard up against my room wall. As much as I wanted to punch him myself for lying. I couldn’t watch it anymore.
“Cillian. Stop!” I said firmly, I grabbed his arm before he could deliver another blow.
Cillian shot me a look “Jessica, wait downstairs” He ordered.
“Please” I pleaded “He’s not worth it” I was not willing to leave Cillian alone with this jerk. His temper was frightening.
“What the fuck Jess?” Macey shouted, breaking our concentration. I turned and glared at Macey. She quickly wrapped my bedsheets around her, she was more agitated at the fact we had disturbed her sex session than what just unfolded in the hall. The creepy guy pulled free from Cillian and quickly scrambled looking for the rest of his clothes. Not once looking in our direction.
The other bloke lay casually on my bed, unfazed with what was going on.
Staring at her in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I waved my hand gesturing towards the blokes “You brought these pathetic excuses for men to my apartment! He was going to hurt me! But oh, don’t you worry, as long as you get your fix!” I screamed, trying to let Macey understand the severity of what just happened.
My gaze locked on her for a few seconds “What happened to you, Macey? This isn’t you” I stated, with sadness. She refused to make eye contact with me, choosing to look anywhere that wasn’t at me.
She scraped her hair into a messy bun, securing it with a hair tie “He was only wanting to have sex with you. Ease up!” she screamed back, still refusing to look at me, putting her guard up, pushing me away yet again.
“So, because he wanted to have sex with me, I should just do what is forced upon me! That’s what you’re basically saying” I argued back, shocked that she didn’t have my back and furious with her for assuming everyone sleeps with every guy they see.
Shaking my head in disgust, she refused to answer me.
Furiously, I stormed away, grabbing my black duffel bag from my wardrobe and stuffed my jeans, oversized white t-shirt, and fresh underwear into the bag. I passed it to Cillian, as he guided me out of the room with a protective hand on the base of my back. I swiftly lifted my converse from the floor and my Mac jacket that hung on the back of my door. Slamming it behind me deliberately as we left hoping Macey knew I was pissed off.
Cillian secured my hand in his as we descended the staircase. I was glad he took the stairs and that we didn’t have to endure the dodgy elevator. We leaped down the stairs two at a time. When we arrived on the ground floor he pushed the exit door with such force it banged loudly echoing through the lobby. I stopped to put on my converse and Khaki Mac on to hide my short dress that didn’t go with my chosen footwear. We were approaching the reception area when I noticed Joe was sitting at the front desk. I had hoped he wouldn’t look up as we quickly passed, but he lifted his head in time to see us leaving.
“Miss Kelling” He stood abruptly “Are you okay?” He asked in a concerned voice. Cillian gave my hand a gentle squeeze encouraging me to keep moving.
I smiled and said “Yeah, I’m fine,” Trying my best not to worry him. His eyes drifted to my burst lip. He then gave Cillian a wary glance up and down.
“Your friend came back with two men?” He said, sheepishly unsure if he was crossing the line of telling me.
“Yeah, it’s okay their friends of ours,” I said on passing, lying to him “They are all staying at mine tonight,” I told him, looking over my shoulder and holding a smile.
I hadn’t fooled him. He wasn’t the type of man to smile and nod at such lies. He would no doubt wait until he got me by myself and ask if I was in need of any help.
Waving goodbye, I said “I’ll see you tomorrow, Joe” Cillian let my hand go to open the glass panel door, allowing me to exit first.
Cillian insisted on helping me into the passenger seat.
“I’m fine,” I told him, trying to calm him, he looked distraught at having witnessed what was about to happen in my apartment. This was not how I thought my night was going to end. Pulling the lever under my seat, I slid the chair back slightly to try and get comfortable. Turning my head to avoid leaning against it, since it was still painful to do so. I observed Cillian, as he sat in the driver seat.
“I knew I should have gone up with you!” He hollered, banging his hands against the steering wheel, in frustration.
I flinched, caught off guard by his outburst. Needing to reassure the man that came to my rescue. I reached over to cup his face in my hands.
“You stopped him from doing what he was planning to do.” Grimacing at the very thought of it.
“I’m okay,” I told him “All thanks to you” He needed to know it wasn’t his fault. Cillian held his hands on mine closing his eyes for a lingering second.
“Why did you come up to my apartment?” I asked, with an urge to know. I was sure Joe must have told him what floor I lived on. I dropped my hands.
“I didn’t want to leave on bad terms. I was coming up to apologize” He informed me. It was me that stormed away in a mood, yet he was taking the blame.
“I shouldn’t have taken my frustration out on you. I’m sorry”
His hand reached for mine “I’m just glad you agreed to come and stay at mine tonight. I thought you might have put up a fight” He added quietly. I glanced at my apartment building “I don’t think I could have stayed there, not after everything that happened” I sighed. Cillian started the car then pulled away, turning his attention to the road. Unsure of where Cillian lived or how long of a journey was ahead, I leaned against the door, resting my head on my arm feeling tired and sore.
1
SCANDALOUS PAST
CHAPTER 4
I opened my eyes slowly adjusting to the brightness. The morning light filtering through the bedroom had attracted my attention to the soft feathery haze that had cast above me. I watched as the tiny dust particles swirled around passing through the beam.
I scrunched my eyes tight, my head was thumping as if there was a fleet of minors banging away.
Maybe next time, I’ll choose the liquor - Knowing the Goldschlager was mostly to blame for how rough I felt. I threw my right arm over my eyes, in an attempt to seek comfort from the darkness and groaned feeling sorry for myself. I only had myself to blame for drinking so much, and for trying to keep up with Macey.
I just lay there, listening to the familiar sound of the clanging bells on the cable cars. Even to this day, at the age of twenty- two, the sound of the San Francisco iconic cars always made
me smile. There’s just something special about them that makes me appreciate San Francisco, being the world’s last manually operated cable car system.
That’s a part of history right there!
They’re mostly overlooked by locals nowadays, but they always seem to fascinate the tourists.
I turned over hugging my pillow, half of my face sinking into the softness as I tried to close my eyes to block out the sunlight beaming in.
My body ached. I was unsure if it’s from my hangover that was well and truly kicking in, or if it was from being pushed about by the creepy guy.
A mixture of both I presumed. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, my breathing slow and raspy as I tried to eliminate the chance of the room spinning. I glanced around, taking in the elegantly decorated bedroom. My hands skimmed across the white satin bed sheets. They matched the white drapes that were gently blowing from the window that was slightly open. I couldn’t help but notice how minimalistic the room was. I sat up and pulled the bed sheets off me, in desperate need of caffeine and painkillers before I could feel even remotely human again. I stepped towards the bedroom door, my feet sank into the incredibly soft cream carpet. I reached up and pulled the fluffy white bathrobe that was hanging up behind the door, I slowly put my arms through and shrugged it on trying my best not to move too fast - it was beginning to feel like I had been in a few rounds with Mike Tyson.
That smell, I know it! I sniffed, moving my head around at different angles, having gotten a whiff of that sweet, spicy scent that Cillian always wears. I could be blindfolded and instinctively know it was his smell. I held the collar of the bathrobe to my nose, realizing it was coming from there. Smiling, I closed my eyes, somehow getting comfort from it.
“Pathetic” I muttered. Imagining how weird it would look to anyone if they walked in on me, getting pleasure out of smelling Cillian’s robe.
I decided to leave it open to expose my toned legs under my oversized t-shirt. I paused, frowning, tugging at my oversized t-shirt, not being able to recall as to how I got into it.
Last night, shit! My eyes widened, trying to think back. The last thing I remember was leaving in Cillian’s car. My head turned swiftly towards the bed. Only my side had only been slept on.
Where did Cillian sleep?
My nostrils flared up instantly, to the rich smell of freshly brewed coffee lingering in the air. I retreated down the spacious hallway, licking my parched lips, my mouth was as dry as the Sahara Desert. I stopped at the entrance of the Living room and leaned against the door frame, surprised to find the same color theme as the bedroom. White on white vibe through the open space kitchen/living room area. Huh! Must be his forte.
Cillian had his back to me, pottering around in the kitchen.
I couldn’t help noticing how incredibly soft the large white shaggy rug looked, as it lay perfectly in front of the open fire. Large oversized ceiling lights draped down low enough that you could touch them, the shape quite peculiar. Almost like something that you would find in an art exhibition. They were also in the bland shade of white. The only pop of color was from the open fire simmering low in the background, the oak flooring, and the matching wooden blinds that were pulled up - allowing me a spectacular view of the San Francisco Bay.
There was no wall art or any pictures at all. Only the small matching decorative wall lights that hung perfectly on each side of the fire, with only the skinny cord hanging down that would allow you to tug on them.
I glanced around the room admiring everything. Only typical household furniture. No family photos anywhere in sight.
Maybe he hasn’t been living here long.
Recalling how my apartment looked bare for weeks until I settled in. Cillian moved towards the breakfast bar. He paused, catching sight of me. He met my gaze before looking me over from head to toe, slowly.
My stomach instantly began doing somersaults, as if I had just come off a roller coaster that went upside down several times. The way he looked at me, had me inhaling in an attempt to catch my breath.
“I made coffee or would you prefer some tea?” His husky voice lured me towards the breakfast bar. He brushed his hand over his beard.
I sheepishly brushed a loose strand of hair away from my face “Coffee is fine. Thank you” I whispered, all of a sudden feeling shy. He was holding his hand up with something small sitting in the middle of his palm.
Dressed in casual black jogging pants and a white peter pan collar t-shirt, still looking as fuckalicious as he was when he was suited and booted.
I pulled out a wooden stool from under the breakfast bar, in front of Cillian, so I’d have an excuse to admire him. He placed two small white tablets on the breakfast bar, slid a glass of water in front of me then began pouring freshly made black coffee into two mugs. I accepted what I assumed to be painkillers and placed them on my tongue taking a gulp of water to wash them down.
“They should do the trick,” He said, passing me a mug of black coffee. Our fingers touched ever so gently as I took the mug from his hand. Electricity was fiercely running through my veins I looked up hoping he felt it too. Only his face was etched with sadness instead.
His brows gently creased, as he stared at my lips. He reached over the white glossy breakfast bar and gently skimmed my lip with the pad of his thumb.
I wanted to kiss him. Kiss away the pain that wasn’t his fault. Even I could see he blamed himself for my attack.
“Jessica, I’m sorry. I should have gone up with you” Cillian sat meditatively staring at my lips.
“It’s okay. I’m okay!” I quickly replied, trying to reassure him. I reached for the stainless-steel pitcher that was filled with cream, to add a splash. I gently blew on my coffee before taking a sip.
“I’m glad you came when you did. If only it had been a couple of minutes earlier, you would have seen my right hook.” My hand felt tender as I curled it into a fist to mimic my punch, trying to lighten the mood. I watched as a smile began to form on his lips.
“Now that! I wish I was there to witness!” He exclaimed, lifting his mug of coffee and taking a sip.
Wanting to talk less about what happened the night before.
“How did I get here?” I blurted out, hoping to keep his mind off the attack.
“You fell asleep on the way here. I tried to wake you, but you were mumbling something, I think it went something like – “You’re so sexy, do you know that?” He said slurring his words, amused with himself, as he repeated the words back to me. Uncertain if he was mocking me, my hand reached up to my face, mortified at how I must have acted.
I couldn’t recall any of what he was telling me.
“So, I carried you” he added.
“You carried me?” I repeated, surprised.
Cillian nodded then sipped his coffee.
“Did you put me in this?” I asked dropping my hand from my face and tugging at my oversized t-shirt.
“Yeah,” He sat unfazed like it was the normal thing to do. He had undressed me only to redress me, so that meant he had seen me practically naked. I felt my cheeks flush at the thought of him touching my skin. I found myself wondering if he took pleasure in seeing my body. I knew I had to try and change the subject, anything to keep my mind from wandering. A replay of the hot intense rudely interrupted sex we had the night before plagued my mind.
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you. I blame it all on the alcohol!” I whispered, trying to keep my eyes on my coffee mug. It was hard not to stare at him, he was perfect in every way. He was the man I had admired for many years. He was the only person who consumed my thoughts whenever I felt frisky and relied on my trusted vibrator for company.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I looked after you while you were drunk.” His tone was laced with amusement.
I looked up at him and narrowed my eyes. Having witnessed my confusion.
“Do you remember the time your mom and dad were away on holiday to Italy? Riley and I came home early from a night out - to find you
having a house party. There was mess everywhere! Your brother freaked out!” He paused, waiting for my response.
“I Remember!” I whispered in shock, recalling the time. My brother was so angry with me, the house was in such a state. Glass bottles everywhere, vodka had been spilled all over my mom’s favorite Eberson Slate Rug. He shouted at everyone, to get out of the house or he was calling the police.
“I think he was angry at the mess, more so than me being Eighteen. Underage and drunk” I replied, remembering how ill I was that night, with all the different drinks I had mixed.
“Riley, cleaned up all through the night, knowing your mom and dad were due back early hours of the morning”
“Why did he do that?” I questioned.
“So that they wouldn’t give you into trouble” He simply said.
“He did that for me?” I asked, having new-found respect for my brother.
Cillian nodded.
“Wait! Didn’t you put me to bed or something that night?” I asked him. Cillian opened his mouth then closed it, hesitating to tell me.
“What?” Wanting him to continue, to tell me what he was going to say.
“I held your hair back, for you to be sick,” He said.
I put my coffee mug down “I’m sorry!” I grimaced. My hands covered my face, mortified that he had to endure that.
“You were young” he shrugged, “You don’t need to apologize.” He got up off his stool and put his mug in the sink. I tried to think of something to say, to change the subject. Unable to find any words, I swung round, on the stool to look out the large windows enjoying a great view of the bay. Shimmying out of the bathrobe, I grabbed my mug and edged off the stool to take in the stunning scenery. The morning fog had begun parting - allowing the Golden Gate Bridge to come into view.
I was aware Cillian was walking towards me, I watched him move in the reflection of the window. The hairs on my body prickled and my heart fluttered before he was even beside me.
