Lose Control (Firebacks Book 3)

by Linda Verji

  But it was damn good to see her again.

  Taming his errant pulse back into a semblance of calmness he called out, “Chryssa.”

  She turned to face him. She started to smile; her eyes running up and down his body in the way she did when she was appreciating him. Before the smile could fully form however, she let it fall. By the time she acknowledged him, she wasn’t smiling. “Hi, Eli.”

  “Have you been waiting long?” he asked as he walked towards her.

  “No.” She shook her head as she shuffled on the couch creating space for him to sit down.

  “How have you been?” The soft cushions dipped as he sat next to her.

  “I’m fine.” They were back to minimum words and inanities.

  Eli shuffled closer and slung his arm around her shoulder as he asked, “And the baby?”

  ‘She’s fine too,” Chryssa said. She didn’t move away from him. If anything she cuddled closer to him, her head almost turned into his shoulder.

  “How do you know it’s a she?” he asked stroking her hair.

  “Don’t know.” Her shoulders lifted slightly as she shrugged. The conversation may’ve been inane, neither of them saying what they really wanted to, but the body language wasn’t.

  Her hand moved from her lap to straighten the collar of his shirt, her fingers lightly grazing his chin. When she started to let her hand fall, he captured it, intertwining their fingers against his chest. She didn’t try to pull them away. When he tilted her head up with his other hand, she didn’t move away. Their eyes met.

  He could see sadness in the hazel depths of hers. Eager to wipe it out, he dipped his head. She didn’t move to meet him but she didn’t resist either when he rested his lips on hers. Her response was slow but it was there. She accepted the kiss, parting her lips when he asked with his.

  The kiss was gently and unhurried. Their hands stayed intertwined over his heart, their tongues gently tangling, as each of them said what they felt with just their lips.

  To Eli it felt like kiss of renewal – a sign of good things to come. When the receptionist interrupted them to tell them that they could now see Dr. Alexander, he parted from her, but it was with a little smile. It felt like dawn was finally breaking.

  ***

  To Chryssa it felt like a goodbye kiss.

  The kind of sadness she felt after it was unexplainable. She actually had a lump at the back of her throat after.. It’d been a struggle to keep the tears from falling during the ultra-sound especially when Eli kissed her stomach, awe in the glance of his lips against their baby.

  While she was changing back to her clothes in privacy, she’d let a few of those tears fall. This wasn’t the first time she was crying. For the past few days all she’d felt was overwhelming sadness. It’d been a struggle just to wake up in the morning and make this meeting. But she knew if she didn’t Eli would be worried and that was the last thing she wanted.

  After the talk with Zain she’d thought about them. She’d actually resolved to call him, but then a talk with Dr. Stiles during her therapy session had changed that. Uncharacteristically he’d agreed her when she’d said she felt that she would be a burden to Eli. As he was handing her regular refill, he’d said that the break away from Eli would allow her to consider the best direction for her life.

  Doctor knew best.

  She fixed her face with wipes and make-up before joining Eli and Dr. Alexander. Eli did all the talking while she sat quietly and processed her situation. Every once in a while she would look at Eli. He had his sleeves rolled up like a man on a mission as he listened to the doctor’s dietary and exercise instructions.

  He was so good to her. He was so protective.

  She didn’t deserve him.

  “Let me walk you to your car,” he said when they finally walked out of the doctor’s office. She nodded. Neither of them said anything in the elevator, but she didn’t pull away when he put his hand her waist. He nodded to several of the workers as they passed, but he never let her go.

  When they got to her car, he turned her once more towards him and let his lips do the talking. She would’ve refused this kiss too, but she couldn’t deny herself one last moment with him. The last kiss had been soft, this one was possessive. The kiss was hard and heated.

  He dragged her closer to him until her breasts were pillowed against his chest and her arms wound around his neck. His hands run over her back restlessly as his tongue clashed with hers as he held her close, almost as if he wanted to imprint himself on her. It probably would’ve worked too, if her body and heart weren’t already tattooed with him.

  When he finally released her, her lips felt bruised, just like her heart. His voice when he spoke was harsh, “I’ll call you in the evening.”

  It wasn’t a question – more like an order but Chryssa nodded anyway. “Okay.”

  She watched him in the side-mirror as she drove away. Though it was only nine-thirty, she felt tired, but it was a work day so she reluctantly drove to work. The moment she stepped off the elevator at Harrington Shultz she was met by the characteristic chatter of The Pit. The noise grated at her ears, moving her mood from sad to irritated in the blink of an eye.

  One of the interns, a short, skinny man with premature balding, rushed to meet as she walked by, “Miss Williams-”

  “Not now Simon,” she snapped eager to just get to her office and to some peace and quiet.

  As Chryssa rounded the corner to her office, she noticed that Aaron wasn’t alone. His dad was by her desk, leaning on the high partition. Mustering a smile despite her irritation she greeted, “Randall, what are you doing here?”

  Randall turned to face her, a smile already growing on his weathered face. “You know me. I always know where the pretty ladies are.”

  “Dad, stop flirting with my boss.” Aaron wrinkled his nose in distaste as he watched them hug. Randall laughed and Chryssa joined in more out of politeness than any real amusement.

  “How’s work?” Chryssa asked.

  “So. So.” Randall shrugged.

  “Any interesting cases?” Chryssa asked even though she really just wanted to go to the peace of quiet of her office where she didn’t have to talk to anyone.

  “Nothing interesting,” Randall answered quickly. Almost too quickly. He changed the subject. “So how have you been?”

  After a few more minutes of exchanging pleasantries, Chryssa managed to extract herself from the conversation. Peace. With a sigh of relief she locked the door to her office behind her. Heavily, she dropped into her chair. She put on her computer and logged into her e-mail.

  Rows of unopened mail winked at her – most of them in-house. Normally she would immediately get to clearing her desk. But today she didn’t feel like it. There was so much to do. So much work.

  What was it for anyway? Spending her days defending people who didn’t know their heads from their asses. And for what? Money? What was money anyway? How much could she possibly have before she was happy? Her life was just an endless cycle of unhappiness and sickness anyway.

  She lay her head down and slept.

  She woke to the persistent buzzing of the intercom. Cracking her eyes open, but still keeping her head on the desk, she pressed the answer button. Aaron’s voice came through loud and clear, “Chrys, aren’t you going to be late?”

  “For what?” Even to her own ears her voice sounded listless.

  “You’ve got that meeting with Carey Dorman at noon, right?”

  Chryssa tilted her wrist to check the time. Half past eleven. She’d slept for over an hour. Normally it would bother her. Today – it didn’t. Shrugging, she said, “Thanks Aaron.”

  She lifted her head from the table and stood up reaching for her handbag. It seemed that every movement took more effort that she could expend. She was supposed to go with the contract that all new Harrington Shultz clients signed before getting representations. Chryssa eyed her computer. She would have to put it on, then search the document, send it to the p
rinter, then….so much work. She slung her handbag on her shoulder and left the office. Carey could sign the contract some other day.

  Even her driving was excessively slow. Several of her co-drivers hooted at her to drive faster. She ignored them. If you’re in such a hurry why don’t you jump over me you little shits. She would’ve shouted the words out the window, but that would require energy – energy she didn’t have. They continued to hoot.

  Finally tired of the constant hooting, midway through her journey to Carey’s Dorman’s house, she simply just turned the car. The hooting this time was even worse as drivers everywhere protested her illegal u-turn. For a minute Chryssa even considered that she might get arrested, but what did she care. Jail wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to her.

  Instead of driving back to the office, she went home. The hallway was completely deserted as Chryssa stepped out of the elevator. Everyone was at work trying to make a living. What for? The government is just going to snatch half of it anyway.

  The moment she got into her house Chryssa dropped her bag and keys to the floor, kicked off her shoes and made a beeline for her bedroom. Not even bothering to remove her dress, she got under the covers. She just wanted to tuck herself in her bed and never get out again.

  She was tired. Of work. Of people. Of life. Of everything.

  Just so tired.

  Chryssa closed her eyes and went to sleep.

  CHAPTER 33

  She didn’t know how long she slept.

  Somewhere in her dreams she remembered getting out of bed and stripping out of her clothes. There was a vague memory of the phone ringing and her going to the living room. Maybe she’d talked to Eli. Maybe she hadn’t. It was all lost in that land between living and existing. She lay back down and slept some more.

  The next time she woke it was because of the shuffling sounds that kept interrupting her dreams. She cracked open her eyes only to be met with complete darkness. The clock beside her bed said three a.m. She was preparing to go back to sleep again when she heard the shuffling noise again this time it was accompanied by strange movement at the end of her bed.

  Confused and disoriented Chryssa lifted her head slightly only to come face to face with a black mass covering the bottom quarter or her bed. At first she thought it was her towel. Then it moved.

  She screamed.

  In her hurry to scramble off the bed she tumbled to the floor hard on her knees but she hardly felt the pain. Heart pounding harder than a marching band, she hunkered down next to the wall eager to get away from whatever the fuck was on her bed. Her eyes focused on the mass still moving on her bed. In the darkness it seemed even more ominous.

  She switched on the light.

  And wished she hadn’t.

  On her bed were millions of tiny cockroaches arranged in rectangular formation on the green duvet as if in an army. The lights bounced off their brown rusty outer shells and their antennae waved as if they were communicating with each other. Chryssa couldn’t even scream from the paralyzing fear that shot through her.

  “I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming,” she chanted instead as she pushed her back against the wall. Somewhere in her rational mind Chryssa knew that cockroaches didn’t form armies or attack. That however didn’t stop the ringing in her ears or the cold sweat that broke out on her forehead. As if they could sense her fear, the whole army turned towards her, their eyes glinting red. Their hairy limbs made scuffing noises as they started to move off the side of the bed.

  Fuck that. She didn’t care if this was a dream, they were coming for her and she wasn’t staying to find out why or how. Chryssa jerked open the door and rushed out of her bedroom. She only paused when she got to the front door. She needed to get out of here. Breathing hard, she tried to turn the front door knob but it wouldn’t open. It was locked.

  Even from where she stood she could hear the ominous scraping sound from her bedroom further magnified in the living room’s darkness. She flicked the switch plunging the room into light as her eyes flew to her bedroom then to the trolley to the door where she always kept the keys. Nothing there.

  Where the fuck are those keys?

  “Get me out of here,” she yelled out as she banged her fists against the door. No one came! Couldn’t they hear her? She continued to pound on the door and yell until, hoarse, she gave up.

  The cockroaches still hadn’t left her room, but she could still hear them. Eventually she knew they would come for her. But she was trapped here. She had to find a way to protect herself. Chryssa rushed to the kitchen and got a knife before going back to the living room.

  Anxiously she paced the floor, knife in her hand and her eyes on her bedroom as she waited for them. They still didn’t come out. She didn’t know how long she paced that floor, but finally when her legs refused to move one more step she pulled the coffee table until it faced her room then sat on it.

  It was only when her ass met the cold glass that she realized she was completely naked. But she didn’t care. She just didn’t want the cockroaches to get at her. She drew her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around her legs to ward off the cold. Resting her chin on her knees, she continued to stare at her bedroom door with her almost frozen fingers around the knife.

  She didn’t even know when she fell asleep. She only came clumsily awake when the knife slipped out of her hands and tumbled to the floor. The muscles of her legs protested as she straightened them out, bending to pick the knife. Her fingers had just glanced on the black handle when she heard a voice. “Chryssa.”

  Her head snapped towards it.

  What she had felt with the cockroaches was fear. This. This was indescribable. Her mouth went dry, her limbs froze, her heart slowed down till she could hear every dull thud in her ear.

  Sitting on the end of the coffee table was her mother.

  Betty was dressed exactly as Chryssa had last seen her. The wedding dress covered her whole body, its white folds falling to the carpet in soft waves. It hid her body but it was obvious she seated in the same exact position. Chryssa had been in earlier. Her feet on the table, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs and chin resting on her knees though her face was turned to Chryssa.

  She looked exactly as she always did when she was calm. Her natural hair had been combed out into a neat fro, with a white band running at the top of her head. Her eyes were clear and alive with that small glint as if she was amused by something. Her lips were drawn into that soft smile she always had as she watched Chryssa.

  But the scariest part was the rope hanging from Betty’s neck, its long length gently swaying.

  Chryssa mouth opened in a soundless scream. She knew she was dreaming because there was no way she could be here. She was dead. That however didn’t make the image in front of her less clear nor did it dull Betty’s voice as she asked, “How are you doing, honey?”

  Grasping the knife in her hand, Chryssa backed away from the table fast almost tripping in her haste to get away. She frantically looked around her apartment. The hallway ominously beckoned towards her cockroach infested bedroom. She couldn’t go there. Her back hit the hard wood of the front door with her free hand she tested the knob again.

  Still locked.

  The ringing in her ears got louder. The space in her throat became smaller and breathing became harder. Chryssa closed her eyes then opened them again, but Betty was still seated on the table. As she stared at the apparition, she started chanting to herself as much as to Betty, “You’re just a dream. You’re just a dream.”

  Betty’s voice was almost musical as she said, “I chased them away for you.”

  “You’re just as dream. You’re just a dream,” Chryssa sung. The knife fell to the floor with a clutter as she let it go to clasp her palms over her ears to drown out the voice.

  Her hands were no match for Betty. Her voice moved beyond them like a ghost through a wall, loud and clear, “The cockroaches are gone, honey.”

  “Stop talking to me,” Chryssa ye
lled. “You’re just a dream. You’re just a dream.”

  “Can’t you hear the silence?” Betty said. She didn’t want to listen to her. She’s a fucking illusion. But her right hand felt suddenly heavy and she let it drop.

  Silence! Complete silence. No shuffling sounds coming from the bedroom.

  “I chased them away.” Betty smiled at her. Suddenly she wasn’t sitting anymore. She was standing.

  Chryssa didn’t even know when she bent and picked up the knife again, but she was pointing it as Betty as she growled, “Don’t come near me.”

  Betty didn’t.

  “Come and see.” She seemed to be drifting towards the bedroom. Chryssa didn’t want to follow her but for some strange reason she felt compelled to. Fingers still clasping the knife tightly she trailed in Betty’s wake. Betty disappeared into the room. Her legs felt heavy the closer she got to the room, but her mind wouldn’t let her stop walking. Heart in her throat she entered.

  The bed was exactly as she’d left it, green covers roughly pushed aside to reveal the wrinkled white sheets beneath. And no bugs. Of course unless you counted Betty who sat on Eli’s side of the bed smiling at her.

  “You made them disappear,” Chryssa gasped as the fear drained out of her replaced by relief so intense she felt it in her soul. Her heart began to pump again in a steady pace and the ringing in her ears stopped.

  “Of course I did.” Betty patted the bed, the covers rustled slightly but that could’ve been just the wind. “Come and sleep, honey.”

  Chryssa’s relief translated to lethargic obedience. She’d stopped thinking of her mother as a dream, but rather as the slayer of the cockroach armies. She walked to the bed, slipping underneath her covers facing Betty. Before she closed her eyes again she whispered, “Don’t leave me, Mama.”