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Paradise Fought: Abel

Page 13

by L. B. Dunbar


  When Abel’s hand rubbed across Keli’s ass while he reached around her to shake someone’s hand, I’d seen enough. This was what Abel wanted, but I didn’t have to be a witness to it. I gently set my glass down. I was getting ready to leave when I noticed that Keli was leading Abel out of Lennie’s. My heart dropped to the floor.

  “What are you going to do?” Lindee hissed, watching me over the table.

  “I’m going home,” I said softly. “I can’t watch this.”

  “I thought you said nothing was going on with you and Abel.”

  “Nothing is,” I replied weakly, as I hopped off the tall stool and headed for the front door.

  The drinks were flowing and my focus was off. I’d won my second fight in a row, but it wasn’t as sweet without Elma’s presence. She’d blown me off all week. While she wanted to continue to pretend on Friday night after the dance studio, she obviously was done pretending. I might have had one too many, although I liked to keep a clear head. Before I knew it, someone was under my arm. Her body wasn’t the body I craved, but she felt nice curled into me. At least someone wanted to be next to me.

  My arm slipped from her shoulders, but she returned it to her hip. I looped a finger through her jeans to hold myself in place. The room was growing louder. I was getting warmer. The attention was increasing. People wanted to talk to me. People pressed in on me. I didn’t do well in crowds, and I was slowly beginning to sweat in a nervous panic. My hand brushed Keli’s ass as I passed it to shake one more hand. After that, I excused myself.

  “Where are you going?” Keli asked in a high pitched giggle. Both hands covered my chest, and her eyes focused on the feel of me under her fingers, not on me as a person.

  “I need some air. I’m just going to step outside for a second.”

  Keli let her hands fall to my wrist and she gently tugged. Informing Creed I was going outside for a minute, I was met with a knowing stare and a wink from Victor. I let Keli drag me out of Lennie’s. I walked toward my truck with Keli holding my hand. I set the tailgate down and hopped up to sit for a moment, taking in deep breaths of the cool mountain night air. The sky was dark, but if I drove out of the city I’d see dozens of stars. I had wanted to show Elma, but she kept refusing to go on a date with me.

  Keli pushed my knees apart and slipped in between them. Her hands rubbed gently up and down my thighs then grew in intensity. Eventually her nails dragged over the tough denim fabric. My dick jumped to attention.

  “I like you, Abel,” she purred, coyly.

  “I like you, too, Keli,” I said, noncommittal. It was different from the teasing with Elma.

  “I’d like to show you how much I like you,” she continued.

  “Oh yeah,” I teased, as her hand temptingly traveled closer to a semi-stiff treasure.

  “Yeah,” she smiled slowly before leaning toward me. My hands lazily rested on either side of my knees, gripping the tailgate. I didn’t want Keli like I wanted Elma, but I had this sickening feeling that I needed to move on. I needed to taste another to rid my mouth of the flavor of Elma. Before I completed the thought, Keli’s lips were on mine. It was a warm kiss, eager and skilled, but practiced. I recognized this kind of kiss. It was one without feeling. Methodic; as if it had been done hundreds of times before with hundreds of men. I had only been one of many with my teacher. Keli was no different.

  My hands moved to her face in hopes that I was wrong. Just once I wanted a woman to want me, for me, not for pay. I continued to attempt the kiss, but found it lacking in many ways. Most of all, it wasn’t Elma. It wasn’t fiery and aggressive like Elma kissed me. Elma drank me in with her mouth, and I loved to sip on her, as well. I pulled back from Keli, with thoughts of Elma, when a yellow VW bug drove through the small lot and exited Lennie’s parking area.

  Triple shit, I thought, as I raced past Keli into the bar.

  “Creed, was Elma here?” I questioned, gripping my friend’s arm.

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t see her,” he slurred, picking up his beer for another swill. We’d all had a bit too much. I peered over his head as if I could see any hint of whether Elma had been in the bar. In a corner table, I saw the girls. I recognized Lindee instantly. She was a beautiful girl. My friend was a fool for not pursuing her.

  “Did you know Lindee was here?” I growled at him. Creed turned in the direction of my glare to see three girls laughing. He spun completely and led the way to their table.

  “Lindee?” Creed called in surprise. “I didn’t know you were coming here tonight.”

  “Girl’s Night Out,” she slurred, raising her wine glass. She giggled.

  “Maggie, Lucie,” Creed addressed, “Was Elma here?”

  “Oh, she was,” Maggie said, staring at me. “But she left.”

  I didn’t know Maggie, but I knew she was Lindee’s cousin. It was odd that they were friends, as well as relatives, but maybe only I thought that was unusual because I wasn’t friends with my own brother.

  “When? Where did she go?” I demanded.

  “She left about ten minutes ago. Said she was going home,” Maggie explained.

  “Are you really Abel Callahan?” the girl named Lucie addressed me. I was bored with this pick up line. I needed to find Elma. I was worried she had seen me and she misunderstood. I stopped myself. Did it matter if Elma misunderstood? She didn’t want anything from me. I was the delusional one, who wanted something from her.

  “Yeah, who wants to know?” I snipped.

  “Oh boy. Don’t tell me you’ve changed already?” Lindee giggled, pouting her full lips. My friend stared at her. I almost wanted to reach for his mouth and wipe the drool. He wanted that girl.

  “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Abel Callahan, and you are?”

  “Louisa Cecilia Moretti, but people call me, Lucie.”

  “Nice to meet you, Lucie,” I attempted to be polite, but I was antsy that time was wasting for me. I needed to find Elma.

  “Piacere mio,” she replied with an eager smile. Something stopped me.

  “Was that Spanish?”

  “Italian,” she corrected. My heart pulsed an extra beat.

  “Italian? Are you Italian?”

  “Nope. I just studied abroad for a semester.”

  My mind raced. Italy. A girl. My brother.

  “You don’t happen to know a girl named Sofie Vincentia, do you?”

  “Who wants to know?” Lucie teased. I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t even tell the girl, once I found her; if I found her. My brother was so secretive about his interest.

  “Just kidding,” Lucie giggled. “Sure, I know Sofie Vincentia. She’s one of my best friends.”

  While my brother would be proud I’d found the girl, I couldn’t celebrate. I raced for my truck. I had Elma’s address and that was my destination. At a stoplight, I sent a text to Cain. I didn’t expect him to answer. It was a Saturday night. He’d have his own fight and after fight celebrations. Girls awaited him, while I raced across town to make things right with one girl who didn’t want me.

  Found the girl.

  To my surprise, the ping returned almost instantaneously.

  What girl?

  I chuckled bitterly. I knew she couldn’t have been that important, that’s why I didn’t work too hard to find her. I had to wait until another stoplight to text again.

  Sofie Vincentia.

  My phone rang immediately.

  “Hey.”

  “You found her?” Cain growled through the phone without a hello.

  “Yes, I…”

  “Did you see her? Was she with someone?”

  “She…wait, what? No. I didn’t see her. I have no idea if she’s with someone.”

  “Find out,” Cain demanded. We were silent for a moment.

  “Why? Why is this girl important?”

  “She’s…just find out,” he growled, then hung up on me. He couldn’t have wanted her too badly, as he didn’t ask about her, just if she was with someone. My phone rang
again and I laughed. It was like he read my mind.

  “Cain,” I teased.

  “You didn’t see her?”

  “No. I met a girl who is her friend. Do you want me to see her?”

  “Fuck no. Stay away from her.”

  “That’s going to be hard if you want me to find out if she’s with someone.”

  “Fuck you,” Cain growled. “You’re right.”

  I paused for a moment, savoring those words. Cain had never, in his entire life, said that to me. Even in jest, he never credited me with anything. I was always wrong, always incompetent.

  “I’ll see if I can get close to her,” I added.

  “Abel,” Cain paused, “Just don’t get too close to her, okay?”

  For the first time ever, my brother sounded desperate.

  When I pulled up in front of Elma’s apartment complex, I double checked the information. This rundown three story building couldn’t be where the popular Elma Montgomery lived. Fashionable, trendy, and sister to a world class fighter, Elma’s home was in a questionable neighborhood, in a building of decrepit brick. The front security door wasn’t locked, and I easily walked into the unsecure building. I took the cement stairs, two at a time, not risking to touch the unstable looking railing. I was about to knock on the second floor apartment door when I heard a deep voice.

  “Fuck me, darling,” someone groaned on the other side of the door. I stopped. My hand frozen in a fist, paused before hammering on the heavy door.

  “Harder,” a female shrill sounded. My body shook. I stepped back from the door as if it could punch me. Then I stepped forward for further torture. Placing my hands on either side of the jamb, I turned my ear to the door to be certain.

  “Sweet Jesus, girl,” the male voice moaned, “Just like that.”

  I’d heard enough. I stepped back. My temptation to kick in the door was great, but my shattered heart didn’t have the energy to fight. I turned like the defeated man I was and exited the dilapidated building. My eyes caught Elma’s car in a corner spot and my stomach rolled. The alcohol of the night caught up to me, and I heaved in the small space of grass before the lot.

  The noise of my mother being hammered by the man-slob in our living room was more than I could handle. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, willing the sounds in my head to disappear. I’d placed my earbuds in my ears and turned my iPad on loud, which only prolonged my quest for sleep. Images of what was happening to my mother haunted me as they merged with Abel and Keli. I saw them kissing on Abel’s tailgate. I shouldn’t have been upset. I had been the one to deny Abel, but we had shared a moment on that tailgate; an easy moment of conversation and ice cream. It was special to me, and I didn’t want it soiled by the thought of Abel taking Keli against that same tailgate.

  Time passed and I sensed the operatic sounds of my mother and her whatever were finally complete. I risked getting up to use the bathroom and possibly try to find something to drink. I’d already slammed down two vodka cranberries at Lennie’s, but the buzz of earlier was long gone. Since I was home, I could drink as much as I wished, and God knew, my house was almost like a liquor store. I opened my bedroom door hesitantly, peering into the small living room. I kept my eyes pinched in hopes to avoid anything that would further scar me. I opened one eye and then the other in question of being safe.

  I padded across the dank floor for the small kitchen. Not finding a clean glass, I took the bottle off the Formica table and intended to return to my room. I was headed for the bathroom first when my mother’s bedroom door opened. A large man with a slight gut and a bald head stared at me. His liquidy eyes were red-rimmed and I froze, letting the bottle dangle at my side. I tugged at my short t-shirt, attempting to pull it down over the center of me where the man’s eyes were trained. Locked on his target, he licked his lips. I swallowed hard. I didn’t dare to move. He was in the way of my bedroom door. I didn’t think I could make it around him.

  I stepped back presuming this would signal his departure through the front door behind me, but he stepped up to me.

  “Round two,” he said with a heavy voice. “I can go for a night cap to top me off.” He reached for the bottle with one hand and me with the other. I screamed as my body plastered against his sweaty bulge of a stomach.

  “Mom,” I yelled.

  “Oh no, honey, that’s not the name I want you to call out,” he demanded. His sour mouth came close to mine. I winced at his disgusting breath. He tugged me tighter.

  “Mom,” I strangled out, in a weak voice as I pushed against him. There was no need to keep calling her. She wasn’t going to rescue me. From the moment of Montana’s death, my mother had fallen into a deep abyss, leaving me, a spoiled child, to flounder on my own. I had always been taken care of. I didn’t really know how to care for myself. Every attempt I made failed. This moment was about to be another one.

  I woke to murmurs downstairs. Creed brought Lindee home with him, as she clearly had too much to drink at Lennie’s. Maggie had been the designated driver after Elma left, but she and Lucie stayed behind, joining up with Victor Ortega and some other guys in the bar. I heard Lindee’s loud laughter and Creed’s teasing shush, but after that I blocked them out. I didn’t want a repeat of what I’d heard earlier from outside of Elma’s apartment. My earbuds had slipped out. It was the only excuse I had for hearing the voices coming from downstairs. I stood and opened my door to listen.

  “You need to call the police,” I heard Creed’s voice travel up the stairwell. Something drew me to the concern in his tenor. I took the two giant steps to the top of the staircase when I heard another voice.

  “I can’t,” she sobbed. That sweet drawl was drowning in a river of devastation. I was down the stairs in three large leaps.

  Standing at the base of the steps, I saw Elma cover her face and cry out, “No!”

  “This is why I didn’t want to come here,” she muttered into her hands. My arms crossed over my bare chest and I glared down at her. Damn her. It was my home. Why was she here anyway?

  “What happened?” I asked, sounding bored. I was over Elma’s drama. My guilty kiss with Keli was nothing compared to what I heard from inside Elma’s apartment.

  “Let us help you,” Lindee said to Elma, seated next to her. Everyone ignored my question. Lindee’s arm were around Elma’s back, rubbing a hand up and down; her other hand brushed back limp blonde hair.

  “You’re coming home with me. No more of this,” Lindee demanded and made to stand, but Creed stepped over to the couch. I remained standing, leaning against the bannister, waiting for an explanation.

  “Let’s just calm down. Tonight, no one’s going anywhere,” Creed announced calmly. He bent forward and tenderly pushed back Elma’s hair from her forehead. I shouldn’t have been jealous but the touch was too gentle. Elma hadn’t removed her hands from her face.

  “Elma, let me see again,” he pleaded. “You promise he didn’t touch you anywhere else, right? He didn’t hurt you anywhere else?”

  “Elma?” I stressed, moving from my stationary spot. “Elma,” I demanded. but there was a strain in my voice. I was instantly in front of her, seated on our coffee table. My hands covered hers and I could feel her tremble.

  “Elma,” I warned. “I’m going to pull your hands back,” I said, as I gently pried them from her face. Her head hung forward and her hair tumbled down to shield her face.

  “Elma,” I pleaded, scooping up her hair and holding it pinned at the nape of her neck. I used my finger to tip up her chin and was met with a horrific sight. Elma’s eye was swollen shut. A goose egg of a bump on her cheekbone was below the eye socket. Tears streamed down her face. Her lip was fat and split. It looked like teeth marks surrounded tender curves that I knew tasted sweet.

  “What happened?” I asked, sucking in a breath. She only shook her head in response.

  “Elma,” I swallowed, afraid to ask my next question, knowing it was important, yet scared out of my mind at her answer. “Elma, were
you…”

  “No,” she snapped cutting me off. “No, he never touched me like that,” she whimpered. That was all I needed to know. I wrapped an arm around her back and another under her knees. Lifting her, I kissed the side of her head.

  “Abel?” Lindee questioned, but Creed continued with concern. “Abel, man, what are you doing?”

  “I’m taking care of her,” I said, but spoke the words into Elma’s ear.

  After I carried her to my room, I laid her on my bed and removed her clothes. She shook, but I used soothing words to let her know each intended movement before I made it. I washed her face and placed a bag of crushed ice in a washcloth over her eye. I gave her ibuprofen for the pain. She lay on her side, staring out at me, but not seeing me. She shifted on my bed at one point, so she could watch the solitary fish in my tank. The soft light from the aquarium was all that lit the room. It was a soothing sight, I knew all too well. Kneeling on the floor next to the bed, I intended to stay that way all night. I’d protect her in her sleep.

  “You need to sleep,” she muttered eventually to me.

  “I’m not leaving you,” I answered, brushing back pieces of hair that had fallen forward.

  “Abel, could you just hold me?” her voice trembled and tears filled her one eye. She closed it while she asked, as if afraid to see me.

  “Anything, my rúnsearc,” I whispered, as I stood and crawled over her. I wrapped myself around her and pulled her in tight, so that every part of her was pressed into every inch of me.

 

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