“Who was that?” I ask, when he just continues heading for the car park without speaking to me.
“Why is it so hard for you to stay put?” he growls as he pulls me along briskly.
“I was going after Kensi. She bolted and we weren’t going to leave her alone in the city!” I explain defensively.
“Is there a reason you took out Harry?”
“You’re the one who made me start training again. You can’t complain when I use what I know when the situation calls for it.”
He shakes his head and sets his jaw, his anger rolling off his body as his grip on me stays firm. “You’re a fucking child who can’t do what she’s told.”
“Excuse me? I’m the child? You’re the one who’s running around fighting for money instead of getting a regular job – let’s not even get into your fucking portrait business!” I bite back. “Does this happen a lot? Getting chased by the cops?” I demand, attempting to pull my hand away from his. His grip just tightens.
“I’m not discussing this with you anymore,” he states, as we reach his car and he roughly deposits me in. I open and close my fingers a few times, allowing the blood to run through them again. His grip wasn’t painful, but it was certainly restrictive.
“Fine, don’t discuss it - I don’t want you fighting anymore Damien. I don’t want you doing any of it. Get a fucking job stacking shelves or pouring beers for fucks sake. If you want to fight – enter a bloody tournament. If you want to make money from your art and design skills, make fucking custom book covers or advertising posters – I don’t care what you do with it. Just stop what you’re doing now. I can’t take all of this secrecy anymore. It’s driving me insane! I mean, I’ve been with you for over two months now, and I still don’t know what’s in your other room. I’m at your house every fucking day! What’s the big secret Damien? Why can’t you just share your life with me?”
Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he steers us toward the motorway, keeping his eyes ahead and his jaw clenched.
I know I should stop talking, but I can’t, now that it’s coming out of me, I need to keep going. “Is this how our lives are always going to be? You make the rules, and I follow them or else you crack it? Are you always going to keep tabs on me? Are you ever planning on introducing me to your friends?” I ask, assaulting him with just a few of the questions that have been plaguing my mind.
He doesn’t answer me, he just keeps focused on the road as we speed down the freeway toward Penrith.
“Well?” I prompt.
“Which answer do you want first?”
“All of them.”
“Fine. Yes Henrietta, this is how it’s going to be. I am always going to keep tabs on you. I need to know where you are and that you’re safe. I didn’t introduce you, because they’re not the kind of guys I want you associating with. You don’t need to get mixed up in my shit! But what I want to know is – why? Why, when I specifically told you to wait with your friends at the club, you had to come outside? You could have told Harry to go after Kensi, and just waited for me to come back like I fucking asked. But no, in typical Henrietta style, you do the fucking opposite. Take out the very guy I left to keep an eye on you and somehow manage to be walking directly into the fight I specifically told you to stay away from! Do you understand what could have happened if I wasn’t one hundred percent focused on the guys I was fighting? If you’re around me, I can’t fucking concentrate. You’re the only person I see. I’m out there, fighting guys that are half cut from drinking all night. Sometimes it gets out of hand, and I need to be able to see it coming. I don’t need to be worrying about you. So please, the next time I tell you to stay put – fucking stay put! And no, I won’t be giving up fighting. It makes me too much fucking money!” he yells, flicking a wad of money over at me, the colourful notes raining down around me, landing on my lap and falling around the car. There is easily a thousand dollars here – maybe more.
We sit and drive in silence for a while. “You’re a dick,” I say finally, my arms folded over my chest as I ignore the money and stare ahead.
“Great. Now your name calling. See, this is why I’ve never had a girlfriend. You’re so fucking stubborn. If you had just listened to me in the first place, we wouldn’t be having these issues.”
“I’m not the one who went looking for your fight, the other two did.”
“I’m not talking about the goddamned fight. I’m talking about us. You’re too young. You weren’t ready. But you fucking pushed.”
“Don’t talk like you’re stuck with me Damien. It’s not like we’re married and have kids. You can get out of this anytime you like.”
“Is that what you want? You want out of this?”
“I don’t know what the fuck I want anymore. Someone else is always there, making my decisions for me. I left home because I couldn’t stand the rules. I couldn’t stand the fear that losing my brother produced in my parents. For years they smothered me Damien! And now you’re doing the same fucking thing!”
“You don’t understand,” he growls, down shifting as he takes the Northern Road exit.
“Of course I don’t understand. Our relationship is all about fucking, I know very little about you.”
“Do not call it fucking Henrietta. It has never been about fucking and you know it,” he bites back.
“Fuck you.” It’s not very eloquent, but it’s all I have right now. I’ve been drinking, and I guess I’m being irrational, but I’m just getting so sick and tired of all the secrecy and all the protection. “Just take me back to my place.”
Tightening my arms across my chest, I stare out the window, not saying a word as we drive the darkened streets. We pull into the parking lot of his apartment building, and I get out straight away, slamming my side before I start to walk off.
“Get back here,” he demands.
“If you won’t take me home, I’ll fucking walk there myself.”
“Henrietta, you’re being ridiculous,” he says from behind me as he catches up.
“Am I? The more I think about this, the more sense this makes. I need to go home – to my home. I need some time away from you.”
“Why? I’ve done nothing but care for you.”
“It’s too much! Tonight was supposed to be fun. I’m eighteen for fucks sake. I’m supposed to be going out with my friends. But you keep restricting everything I do. You’re so fucking selfish. It’s all about you – all the fucking time!”
“No Henrietta. It’s always about you. Always,” he entreats, as I insert my hands into my hair, tears escaping my eyes as I shake my head in frustration.
“God, I hate feeling like this! I just wanted to be free. I hate you for making me need you!” I cry, sobbing uncontrollably as he steps forward, wrapping me in his arms, holding me against his chest.
I just sob. I curl myself into his body and I sob.
“I need you too,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head, his strong body cocooning me in its warmth.
“God, I’m all over the place right now,” I say eventually, standing back from him and wiping at my eyes, hoping that I don’t have mascara streaming down my cheeks. “I just… I feel strange. Maybe it’s just hormones, I haven’t had my period since…” I pause, touching my fingertips to my thumb as I try and count. When realisation dawns on me, my eyes meet his. “You said we’d be fine,” I whisper.
“And we will be,” he replies immediately, his voice stone-cold calm.
I thump my fits against his chest. “When I told you I wasn’t using birth control, you said not to worry. You made me think you couldn’t get me pregnant. I fucking believed you. I fucking trusted you!” I thump my fists over and over again on his chest as I scream murderous things at him.
He just stands there, stoically taking my onslaught, unwavering in his stance.
“Was this to trap me? Is that what you’re trying to do? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Still he stands there, his jaw clenching as he watches me
rant.
“I’m eighteen. I can’t…I can’t… not yet… oh my god,” I lean forward, placing my hands on my knees as my heart pumps so fast that I’m struggling to get enough oxygen into my blood.
“You need to calm down,” he says, reaching for me.
Flinching away, I hold my hand up, warning him off me. “Don’t…touch me,” I pant. “I can’t have a baby. I’m not having a baby.”
“We’ll be fine Etta. Relax, just come home with me. We’ll do a test in the morning. We can do this Etta.”
“No.”
“No what?”
“No, I’m not doing this. I’m not going with you. I want to go home – to my home. I just… I need some space. I need to think.”
“Henrietta,” he warns, his tone becoming demanding.
“Just stay away from me.”
“No,” he growls, reaching out and grabbing my arm. With a firm grip he starts dragging me back toward his apartment building.
“Let go, you fucker! You bastard! You Liar! I hate you right now!” I yell, slapping at his arm, trying to pull in the opposite direction. But he’s too strong for me.
As soon as we’re in the foyer of the building, I reach out and grab a hold of the door, using it to anchor myself and make it harder for him.
“I’m not letting you go,” he growls, turning on me, pushing me up against the glass door I’m holding on to, breathing down into my face.
He takes a moment to look at me, his expression dark and stormy, his intent clear. He crashes his mouth against mine, forcing his tongue over my lips, his hands sliding around my waist, practically crushing me against him.
I try to fight it, I try to stay angry at him, but the power he holds over me begins to envelope me, causing me to respond. The moment the first gasp escapes my mouth, I feel his cock, hot and hard against my thigh.
His kiss deepens as he pulls me closer, curving my body into his. Sliding his hand down, he grips my buttocks, pulling me roughly against him. His hand moves underneath my dress and into the waistband of my lace panties. With a swift tug, he breaks the seam, dropping them on the floor where we stand.
Reaching down, he grips my thigh and lifts me onto his waist, continuing to kiss me the entire time. I wrap my legs and arms around him as he takes to the stairs, stopping periodically to press me against the wall and ravish my neck, my breasts. To grind against me.
By the time we make it to his apartment, I’m almost ready to explode. He sits me on the bed, pulling my dress over my head before urging me to lie back.
Discarding his clothing, he climbs of top of me, his glorious muscles rippling as he takes his weight and enters me.
“We belong together Etta. You’re my everything. You’re my life. You’re the very reason I breathe,” he whispers between kisses and thrusts.
With my senses overwhelmed, I can do nothing but respond to my carnal need for him. It’s as if my body craves him so much that it shuts off my rational mind the moment he touches me, and I can’t fight him.
Sliding out of me, he kisses his way down my body, leaving a trail of prickling heat in its wake. He settles himself between my thighs, moaning his pleasure as his tongue slides through my folds.
My hips jolt as he sucks on my nub. “You’re magnificent Etta,” he murmurs. “My own personal heaven.” He slides his fingers inside me, sucking on my clit, pulsing my insides as he continues to seduce me further with his words. “I want you. I need you. Let me love you. Be mine forever.”
My body bursts over his hand, in his mouth as his pulses continue and my hips jolt. Climbing back up my body, he thrusts himself back inside me, pumping quickly, continuing my orgasm as I start to call out.
My moans become increasingly louder as his hips thrust back and forth at great speed. He hoists my legs up, positioning my feet on his shoulders, increasing his depth.
“Holy shit,” I call out as I explode again. He slams himself into me one last time, shuddering against me, spilling his juices inside me.
Suddenly my consciousness revisits me, reminding me that this is exactly what I’m upset about. It’s exactly why I need to go. I can’t trust him.
Passively, I go through the usual routine where he cleans me and gets us both ready for bed. When he curls us together, under the blankets, I pretend to fall asleep quickly as he plants his soft kisses on my skin.
Dampness pools beneath my face as tears slide silently from my eyes and I force my breathing to stay steady. Eventually, I feel his body relax, and his breathing evens out. It’s then that I slide out of bed, quickly and quietly grab my bag, and I leave.
“Aaron,” I whisper into my phone once I’m in the stairwell.
“Etta?” he asks, his voice groggy from sleep. “What’s going on?”
“I need you. Can you please drive me home? I’m outside.”
“What? Of course. Shit Etta, are you ok?” he asks, immediately sounding alert.
“Not really. Just please. Hurry up. And Aaron?”
“Yeah?”
“Please be as quiet as you can. You don’t want to wake him.”
When I reach the foyer, I spot my discarded underpants and pick them up off the floor, shoving them into my bag as I exit the building and wait outside on the path.
Seconds later, Aaron is slipping out to meet me.
“Did he hurt you?” he asks immediately.
“No. He just…” I burst into tears, instantly Aaron’s arms are around me, strong and familiar.
“Let’s get you out of here,” he whispers, guiding me toward his car.
Once on the road, he asks, “Where am I taking you?”
“Take me to the 24hour Coles. I need to buy something.”
When we pull into the parking lot, I ask him to stay in the car, I don’t really need him with me while I buy pregnancy tests.
Rushing in, I head straight for the pharmaceutical aisle. Normally, I love how they shelve all of the condoms and lube, right next to the pregnancy kits. Tonight they taunt me. I can’t believe I was so stupid.
I select one of every test they offer, I don’t know which one is best, so it seems logical to just use them all.
As I climb back in the car, Aaron glances down at the grey plastic bag in my hands. You can clearly see the labels through the opaque plastic.
“Shit Etta,” he says, meeting my eyes, his own filled with sympathy and worry.
“I know,” I sob.
As we drive back to my place, he reaches over and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’m here for you ok. Whatever you need. I’m here for you.”
I nod, fighting the floods of tears that keep forcing their way out of me. I just want to get home. I just want to find out if it’s true.
When we get to the townhouse, all is quiet. It’s almost 5am and I’m sure that my roommates are either sleeping or still out partying – who knows with Kensi. Selecting the key for my room on my keychain, I unlock my door and let Aaron in.
“Can you wait here for me? I don’t really want to go through this on my own.”
“Of course,” he whispers, moving over to my desk chair and taking a seat.
When I get to the bathroom, I unpack the tests, and remove two sticks from different packets, reading the instructions and following them for each one. Placing the caps on the end of each of them, I wash my hands and clean up the packages, taking everything back to my room to sit with Aaron and wait.
“What did they say?” he asks as soon as I enter the room.
“I don’t know yet. It says to check in three minutes.” I set them on the desk and stash my plastic bag with the remaining tests and empty packaging on the floor.
“Um, Etta?” he says looking at them where they lay. “I think you already have your answer.”
“What?”
“Have a look.”
My stomach turns sour with nerves and I shake my head. “I don’t want to. Shit. I can’t do this. Just tell me. They say yes don’t they?”
“Um�
�� yeah, one says ‘Yes’ and the other has a pink line in each window.”
“Oh crap,” I breathe, leaning forward and rocking my body. “God I’m such a fucking idiot!”
“No Etta. Sometimes things go wrong. It doesn’t make you an idiot.”
“No, you don’t understand. I told him I wasn’t on the pill and he said we’d be fine. I believed him. I thought that meant… oh shit, I should have insisted. I’m a fucking idiot.”
He doesn’t respond, and I’m too busy freaking out with my head in my hands to pay attention.
“I’m too young to have a baby Aaron. I can’t do this. I can’t be pregnant. I’m not even finished uni and my parents. Fuck! They’re going to kill me. They’re going to make me go back home and they’re going to kill me!”
As my mind reels, he sits there silently, listening to my ranting. I don’t think he knows what to say.
“You know what? Maybe they’re wrong. I’ll go and drink some water. I’ll take some more tests.” I rise from the end of the bed and step past him to go back to the bathroom. But his hand reaches out and takes mine.
“Etta,” he says gently. “The other tests will all say the same thing. They’re accurate.”
“No,” I whisper. “I need them to be wrong.”
He pulls me toward him, and wraps me in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he says.
I lean against him, sinking down until I’m sitting on his lap, shock taking over my emotions. “I can’t have a baby. I just can’t.”
Chapter 20
“Henrietta!” I hear from outside. I’m still sitting on Aaron’s lap, still in shock from the results of the test.
“Oh shit. He woke up,” I say, locking eyes with Aaron.
“She’s not here. She’s never here,” yells Kensi. “Now go home, we’re trying to sleep.”
“Check her room. The light’s on,” he calls up.
“Fine. Hang on.”
I hear her leaving her room and trudging up the hallway to mine. “Etta,” she calls as she knocks gently. “Your psycho boyfriend is outside yelling for you.”
“Tell him I’m not here. Please,” I beg through the door.
She sighs, so loud that I can tell she’s not at all happy about this. “Fine. Just turn your light out,” she says quietly. “She’s not there,” I hear her yell back down to him. “Her room is empty, I just turned the light out myself.”
Drawn Page 22
