Fallen Angel (The List #3)

by N. K. Love

  “So what’s it gonna be, B? Tattoo or piercing—or both?”

  “I know what tattoo I’m going to have, but I’m not in the right frame of mind to do it today.”

  “Okay, so a piercing then. Where do you want it? Nipple?”

  “No way. I like my nipples just the way they are. But don’t let me stand in your way.”

  “Err, I don’t think it’d suit my tiny bee stings. You, on the other hand, have got plenty to go around. It’d look sexy as hell.” My hands on my hips and constant head shaking eventually gets through to her. “How about we have matching navel piercings then?”

  “You serious? You’re jumping in on this too?”

  “Yeah, Fuck It.”

  “Hey, isn’t that my line?”

  “Say it then.”

  “Okay—Fuck It.”

  Wills slams me a high five as she walks across the stained wooden floorboards and leans over the counter to get the walking inkwell’s attention.

  This guy’s ear lobes have been stretched so big, a man could probably have sex with them—is that a thing? If not, it could definitely be a thing, ear sex. He’s covered in tats, even on his scalp and all up his neck.

  Being surrounded by tattoos leads only to the inevitable. Soon my minds awash with thoughts of tracing the outline of Jax’s beautifully detailed ink with my fingers, whilst snuggling up in bed.

  “Earth to Bethany, come in Bethany.” Wills clicks her fingers from across the reception area. “I said, are you sure you don’t wanna go a little lower babe?”

  She flicks her eyes between my legs and wiggles her eyebrows.

  “Ouch. The thought of my belly button is bad enough. No thank you Miss Kinkalicious. You interested?”

  “M-maybe.”

  “How long do you have to abstain for?”

  Wills immediately turns her attention back to the walking inkwell.

  “Right then—we’ll have two navel piercings please mate.”

  9:06pm

  It didn’t hurt as much as I’d expected so the distraction was only short-lived. But it does looks lovely so I’m pleased with our act of spontaneity.

  Afterwards, Wills called in an old favour—which probably means sexual—and got us both a spray tan and wax at Bella’s. I told her it’d been less than three weeks since my last visit but apparently it was standard protocol for us to be considered beach body ready.

  Not that I’m out to impress anybody this weekend but it won’t hurt to feel good in a bikini. It was nice seeing Carmen, although her name made me think of a certain snooty ice queen, so that didn’t help with my pledge to go Jaxless today.

  Once I’d convinced Wills that I didn’t need her to stay another night, she took the car full of shopping home to keep in her garage for me.

  But this—this right now is my time of weakness, when my obsessive thoughts can get the better of me. This is when I’m most likely to cave and finally send one of the hundreds of texts I’ve had on a mental carousel since I arrived at The Dion. From the obvious; ‘Why?’ or ‘Is there somebody else?’ To the ridiculous; ‘Are you secretly a cannibal and you’re saving me from being eaten alive by you and your cannibal cult?’

  I stare at the screensaver on my phone, a photo of us in his kitchen. I click on my call history and hover my thumb over the green call button beside his name, see-sawing my choices. Do it. As soon as those two little words pass through my head, Jax’s face appears on the screen. Shit. I must’ve hovered too close, I juggle the phone like it’s a piece of hot coal and end up dropping it on my barefoot.

  “Oww. Shit.”

  I snatch the phone up off the bedroom carpet, praying that he hasn’t answered, only to see the call duration counter moving from three seconds to four, then five. What’s the obvious thing to do? Put the phone to my ear and say ‘Hi’. No, of course not. I chicken out. I panic and hit the red button to end the call.

  Throwing the phone on the bed as if that’ll make like it never happened, I dive on the mattress beside it with my face buried in the pillow.

  He’s going to think I’m a complete ass. Calling him then hanging up when he answers. Like I’m some needy freak that just wanted to hear his voice. His voice. God, I’m some needy freak that just wants to hear his voice.

  Hold on a second. The phone vibrated. It doesn’t vibrate for outgoing calls.

  I recover the offending phone and go back into my call history. Sure enough, it was an incoming call. He called me. He fucking called me. Yeah and you answered then cut him off.

  If he wants to speak to me, he’ll call back. Do I want to speak to him? The plan was to talk in Devon.

  Sorry. I shouldn’t have called. G

  ‘G’. I imagine him sitting in the lounge, typing out that text to me. He is thinking about me right now.

  Y did u then?

  Moment of weakness.

  If you wanted a clean break, u wouldn’t be thinking about me at all.

  That notion is impossible. But, ur right. I shouldn’t have called. I’ve fucked around with ur head enough already. Sorry. How are you?

  Y is it that I really want to tell u 2 go fuck yourself, but I can’t?

  U want 2 because I’m a fucking prick. U can’t because ur you.

  Do u realise that by typing ur 2nd point it only helps 2 confirm ur the 1st?

  Yes. Can u tell me how u are please?

  I’m absolutely fine thanks 4 asking.

  Okay, I deserve that. I just wanted 2 make sure ur ok, that’s all.

  Ur wrong actually Jax. U don’t deserve my sarcasm. U deserve the truth.

  Which is?

  I’m shit. I’m fucking shit. I’m an ugly mess inside & out. I feel abandoned & lonely & it’s all because of u. So now u know. Goodnight.

  I throw my face back into the pillow, this time to muffle the full on, open-mouthed sobbing. My ears can’t take the sound of any more self-pitying.

  The phone starts vibrating on the bed. That last text seems to have opened the floodgates. But not for more tears.

  I quickly sit up, wiping my tears on one sleeve of my fluffy hotel robe and then wipe my nose on the other. Rolling my shoulders, straightening my back, I take a deep breath in and snatch up the phone.

  When I answer the call, I exhale by way of verbal diarrhoea.

  “What Jax? Isn’t reading it good enough? You want to hear how sad you’ve made me?”

  “Beth, I—”

  “And I don’t care if I sound weak or pathetic or if normal girls would keep their dignity and would’ve never text you back. I’m clearly not normal, not when it comes to you. I don’t hide behind fakeness. I’ll leave that to you.” Silence. “If I was a normal girl, I wouldn’t have answered this call either. I wouldn’t have spent hours reliving our memories and convincing myself that we’re not over. I would be hating you right now. Hating you for wrapping me up in a world full of hope, then unravelling it all and leaving me—empty.”

  During that outburst my voice has somehow calmed and my tears have subsided.

  “Beth, I stand by what I said. I’m no good for you.”

  He sounds so resigned, as though it’s a fact and not his opinion.

  “In that case, I stand by what I said. You’re a pussy.”

  “Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I hate myself more than you ever could?”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “Well you should.”

  “That’s the problem Jax. You don’t get to tell me what to do or how to feel. You say that you’ll hurt me but don’t you realise that what you’ve done has already achieved that? I’m hurting now… Are you worried that I’m falling in love with you? Are you worried that when that happens, it’ll be so much worse for me to hear your secrets?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, it’s too late because I’m already in love with you.” Fuck. “I wish I wasn’t but—no that’s not the truth, I love that I love you… F-fuck. Just say something.”

  “I don’t
know what to say. I didn’t set out to hurt you. I didn’t ask for your love, Beth.”

  “No, you didn’t and I didn’t give it to you either. You just took it, whether you intended to or not, you did. So all you’ve done is given up on something that could’ve been the best thing to ever happen to both of us. You’ve given up on us. Do you care about me?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “So think about this then. The way you’ve ended it means that I will forever have unanswered questions hanging over my heart. I don’t deserve that.”

  “You don’t deserve any of this. But how can I make things better? I can’t.”

  “You can sit down with me and tell me everything. Let me decide for myself what my future holds. I think I deserve that much.”

  “Beth, we’re over. I can promise you now that you won’t like what’s in my head so why would you want me to share that with you?”

  “Because if you don’t, it will eat away at my sanity. Your secrets may be dark but the shadows they cast over my happiest moments will last for a lifetime. I need this Jax. Whatever happens, I need to know so that I can move on.”

  “Okay.”

  “What now?”

  “No. After Devon. Before you go back to Wills’ on Monday.”

  “We’ll sit down and talk?”

  “Yes, if that’s really what you want. I think it’s a bad move but it’s your decision Beth.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Friday 1st May 2015

  11:45am

  Jax

  Three fucking hours.

  I’ve had to sit here for three fucking hours with Beth just feet away and I’m not able to touch her. She’s not mine to touch any more. That much is painstakingly obvious to everybody except me.

  I’ve been wrestling with my irrational possessive side that wants to tell every motherfucker sitting on this goddam coach to keep their hands to themselves.

  Me and the boys got on the coach first and I followed them to the back row, which I didn’t realise at the time would put Beth in full view for the entire journey. We’ve not had chance to speak yet so all I’ve managed is a pathetic nod of the head when she got on the coach. None of the lads have uttered a word about it. I’m wound up like a tight spring so I’m liable to snap at the first person to open their mouth.

  We’ve arrived at the accommodation and the plan is to check in, dump our bags and all meet back in the dining area for lunch. Then because the events don’t start until tomorrow, we’re supposed to make a night of it. Those competing will take it easy on the drinking but everybody else will be taking full advantage. As I’m no longer competing, I can partake in the excessive alcohol consumption and I fully intend on doing just that.

  People start breaking away once they’ve got their room keys. I head to the lift with Craig. Most people are sharing but I specifically asked for my own room. I need to be able to get some space this weekend. We get into the lift whilst checking out the itinerary.

  I glance up and see Beth in the foyer with some greaseball laughing and chatting with her. She’s got her back to me so I can’t see her face. I hit the button to keep the doors open, fighting to keep myself from steaming over there and telling him to back the fuck off.

  “What’s up? Forgotten something?”

  Craig snaps me out of it and I reluctantly let go of the button, watching as the doors close and block the view.

  “Nah.”

  “So, now we’re by ourselves, you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

  “Nope.”

  “Did you fuck it up?”

  “Yep.”

  9:21pm

  We’ve been drinking for hours now. I’d say about half the people from our gym have come to support so they’re all drinking. The lads are behaving themselves but taking full advantage of the drunken chicks who are throwing themselves at any dick with a pulse.

  We’re at the bar down the road and our crowd has drawn the attention of the locals as well as any holidaymakers looking for a good time. Some of these girls are embarrassingly easy. I would’ve usually at least had my dick sucked by now. But my dick’s on strike. It’s only got blood for Beth. As much as the dark side in me is telling me that pussy is the answer, there’s only one pussy I want and that belongs to one of the only single girls in here that isn’t offering it on a plate to the strongest bidder.

  I swear to God, there are pissing contests everywhere I look. It’s sad really. What’s worse is knowing I used to be part of that. I took pleasure in biding my time, whilst the sluts were whittled out of the equation. I’d let the lads weed out the pretty girls with the easy pussy and then I’d have the pick of the prettiest girls with the fussy pussy—in my experience, it usually meant it was much better quality. Then I’d do as little as possible to get fucked.

  Needless to say that upon reflection, I hadn’t known quality pussy until I’d got my face buried inside Beth’s.

  When I’ve watched her tonight I’ve realised I haven’t come to terms with the fact that we’re no longer together. When I called her last night I don’t even know what I wanted to accomplish, I just needed to hear her voice. Even if it meant it might upset her. How fucking twisted and selfish is that?

  On some level, I still believe she belongs to me, which is fucked up in itself considering I’m the one who ended it. But nothing about her and I has ever been simple.

  The beautiful girl standing across the room from me now told me that she loves me. She does love me. There’s no way I could deny her my secrets after that. I may be an idiot but I know when I’m beaten and when to concede. So that difficult conversation is going to happen. I guess this weekend feels like the calm before the storm now.

  Staring at the bottom of yet another glass and the cognac’s been lacing my insides for the best part of two hours. Even so, I’m still able to clock every dude that thinks Beth is fair game. I’ve also noticed how much Willow and Beth are knocking back, obviously on a mission to get hammered tonight.

  Beth’s cheeks are rosy and although she’s not flaunting herself like the rest of the girls here, it doesn’t take a magician to see the banging body beneath her clothes.

  She’s wearing skinny tightass jeans that plant pictures of me spreading her ass cheeks and fucking her on my stairs. Her loose fitting top sways when she moves, pinning itself to the curves it’s concealing. I imagine sucking her nipples whilst she digs her fingers into my scalp, urging me to go down south and eat her pussy until she’s begging for my dick.

  My thoughts may be based on memories but I bet half the men in here have been thinking alike.

  Craig hands me another glass and starts talking about the set up for tomorrow. Now I’m out of the running, he’s one of our best competitors so he’s getting a little angst. I, on the other hand am more interested in who the fuck has got his hands on my girl—on Beth.

  He is holding her hand and pulling her towards the dance floor. Beth is looking to Willow, who says something to the man. The man holds his hands up in defeat and turns to walk away.

  Everything ok?

  She takes her phone from her back pocket and the screen lights up her flushed face. I know she knows where I am. She may not have looked over but we’re always aware of where each other are. That’s just how it is between us. That won’t stop.

  I don’t need u, if that’s what ur implying.

  Craig has given up attempting to hold a conversation with me. He’s making an early night of it and disappears with a few of the others. I’m left with four lads that are too drunk to bother with conversation, which suits me perfectly.

  Well, u know where I am.

  I know where ur not. Ur not standing next to me. Ur not slamming me up against this wall & kissfucking me until I’m breathless.

  Drunk Beth is ruthless. My dick wakes up from its protest.

  U trying 2 mess with my head?

  Like uv messed with mine? Impossible. But maybe I should try.

  If fucking with my head makes u
feel better, feel free.

  Beth pockets her phone and carries on talking to Wills. They throw back their drinks and make their way over to the dance floor.

  Within one song, they’ve drawn plenty of attention. Wills would’ve normally had her tongue down somebodies throat by now so I don’t know what’s up with that. Probably sisterly-solidarity or some shit like that.

  Men start closing in. My hawk eyes clock every look in her direction. It’s only a matter of time until one of them tries to dance with her. What I don’t know is if she’ll let them.