Then she hung up on me.
I cursed and stood from the booth, packing my stuff up. I wasn't in a rush to head to her place, because she's pulled this shit on me more times than I can remember. Every time she was bluffing... except for once.
One time, I showed up and she was merely drunk, never having swallowed a damn pill. I yelled and cursed at her, told her to get her shit together. I started to walk out on her, when she ran in front of me with a bottle of pills in her hand. Before I could even register what she was doing, she popped the cap and titled her head back, swallowing several as I watched a few dribble out of her mouth and hit the carpeted floor.
I grabbed Maeve and pried her mouth open, even as she fought me. When I realized her mouth was empty, I didn't even hesitate before I dialed 999 for our emergency services and told them what happened. One ambulance ride to the hospital, and a good stomach pumping, had Maeve safe and secure again. She was thoroughly apologetic about it, and had promised never to do it again.
And while she has not swallowed any more pills while drinking, at least to my knowledge, she has threatened it a few times since then. Each time, I seek her out and talk her off the ledge, and part of me starts to wonder if she really wants to kill herself or she just wants my attention.
My gut told me she was lying to me this time, but I couldn't take the risk that she's wasn't. Fury rises up in me that she can't get her shit together. I care about her. I really do. But my main interest is in making sure she's competent so that our band doesn't fall apart. She's my friend, sure, but she's my business partner first and our future success hinges greatly on the solidarity of our group.
When I got to her apartment, that is when the nightmare really got good. Maeve was sprawled out face first on the bed. I shook her gently but she didn't move, and that's when I noticed the empty pill bottle. I shook her harder, slapping at her face.
I got nothing.
Panicking, I put my fingers to her throat and felt the barest stirring of a pulse.
Luckily, an ambulance arrived within minutes and here I sit, waiting to hear if she's okay. My stomach churns at the thought of Maeve dying. I've had enough death in my life to hold me over. I feel beyond helpless that my friend and band mate can't find peace in her life. If she pulls through this, something has to change.
***
I'm sitting by Maeve's bed, holding her hand. She's sleeping, which the doctor said was normal. They were able to pump her stomach, again, and said she should be physically fine--although they recommended she stay for another day to make sure. The doctor also had a frank discussion with me about her suicide attempt. He strongly recommended that she enter into an in-patient rehab facility and it's something that I couldn't agree with more. It's time for Maeve to get her head on straight.
Now the hard part will be talking Maeve into it. There's no one else in the world that will have this conversation with her, as Maeve doesn't have any family that I know of. She's always just said she was estranged from her parents and she never wanted to talk about it.
I briefly think about calling Sean. He's my best friend in the world and there isn't anything I can't share with him. And he's well aware of Maeve's drinking problem. But I dismiss the thought because there's nothing he can do and I know he'll agree with me that Maeve needs to get some serious help.
Maeve starts to stir in her bed and I feel her hand tighten its grip on mine. Her eyes flutter open and she looks at me through a haze of fog. After blinking several times, she glances around, taking in the hospital room. Her eyes return to me and she says, "You came."
I curse inwardly, because Maeve is seeing me as her hero. As the man who saved her from death's door. I don't want to be that man to her. It's not fair for her to put me in that situation. But I also know that I need to handle her with care right now, because no matter how mad I am at her for doing this, I am all too aware that some of this may be beyond her control.
"Hey darlin'. How're you feeling?"
She swallows hard and her eyes fill up with tears. "I'm sorry, Cillian. I didn't mean to do it."
I reach over and take her in my arms. She seems so frail and I let her cry into my chest. I whisper words of comfort and tell her it's going to be okay, and I hope to God it really will.
Maeve eventually pulls back and I let her lie back down. Still holding her hand, I speak firmly to her. "Maeve... you can't keep doing this. You need help."
She starts shaking her head. "No. I'm fine. It was a stupid mistake. I won't make it again."
"Maybe, maybe not. But we can't take the chance. Next time, I might not get to you in time."
"Please, Cillian. Don't make me enter into rehab or some mental hospital. I'm begging you, don't make me."
I knew she would do this. I knew she would buck against this, but I already knew what I was going to do when it happened. I don't know if I'm serious or if I'm bluffing, because this is all happening so fast, but I pour concrete into my voice when I say, "Maeve... honey... if you don't check in somewhere to get help, you can't be a part of OTE anymore."
Her eyes go wide with horror and a stab of guilt lances through me. "You wouldn't."
"I would. And you know I do what I promise. I need you healthy, babe. I need you healthy so we can make great music together."
She sniffles and turns her head away from me. Staring blankly at the wall, she says, "I wouldn't be this way... if you just gave us another chance. I know we could be happy."
"No, Maeve," I softly chide her. "This isn't about us. This is only about you."
Silence lays heavy in the air and I wait to see what she'll say. Finally, she takes a stuttering breath and says, "Okay. I'll do it. But promise me you'll visit me, and call me all the time. That you won't leave me in there to rot."
Relief surges through me and I reach over to pull her back into my arms. "Of course I will, darlin'. I'll be by your side every step of the way."
"You promise?"
"Yes. I promise."
***
I stayed with Maeve in the hospital for a few more hours then I got to work. I spent the majority of the time making phone calls trying to find a facility to get her. Then I went to her apartment to get her packed. I had to spend a few hours doing laundry for her, but by the time I left, I had enough stuff to last her for several weeks. The facility I found, Dublin Mind Wellness, specializes in drug and alcohol addiction and they are asking that she commit to at least thirty days in-patient, but they said it could be longer.
I called Sean and Daniel and had them meet me. I told them what was going on and they, of course, supported Maeve in this quest to get better. We all couldn't help but notice that this happened at the perfect time, since we were taking the summer off. It was our collective hope that she would be well on her way to a full recovery by the time we were ready to start recording again in the Fall. I left the guys with Sean promising he'd call our manager to let him know what was going on. He was on holiday somewhere in Germany but he shouldn't have any trouble getting up with him.
When I finally picked up Maeve from the hospital, she looked a bit steadier and more resolved. I was pleased to see this and was actually feeling hopeful for her future.
We make small talk on the short drive over to Dublin Mind Wellness, but the talk turns serious the closer we get.
"I can't do this without you, Cillian."
"And you won't have to," I assure her.
"I'm depending on you."
"I know. But you have to learn to depend on yourself, too." I take her hand and give it a soft squeeze before releasing it.
"I will. It will be easy, as long as I know you're with me. You're really all I have."
I don't like the sound of that. I want to be there for Maeve, and I will support her endeavors to get healthy one-hundred percent. But there is a small part of me that wonders if she can truly let go of what I'm now wondering may be an obsession with me. I surely hope so, because I can't continue down this path of self-destruction with her. I can
only be a friend to her and I hope that's enough. I make a mental note to myself to talk with her doctor about it, and make sure that I say the right things to her. That I'm able to encourage and support her without leading her on.
The check-in process goes smoothly and I even get to go with Maeve to see her room. I stay for a few minutes, but then decide it's best to leave so she can get used to her new environment.
She walks into me for a hug, laying her head on my chest.
"You're going to be fine, Maeve. I just know it. You just have to be strong and come back to us healthy."
She nods her head up and down, snuggling further into me. Her hips press into mine. It's a move that doesn't seem so friend-like anymore so I place a quick kiss on her cheek and pull back. Her eyes darken a bit, but then she smiles. "Remember, Cillian. You promised to be by my side through this."
Something oily and unsettling lodges in my chest over her tone. I'm afraid her idea of support and mine may be two different things, but I'm sure now is not the time to hash it out with her. Her doctor promised that we would talk by phone in a few days and I would ask him how to handle this with her.
Giving a smile to Maeve, I leave her room and head down the hall. My thoughts immediately go to Renner and I wonder what she's doing. I've missed seeing her the last two days, a sentiment that is made only stronger by the extreme crappiness I've been embroiled in during that time.
CHAPTER 7
Renner
It's been a stressful couple of days for me. Cormac keeps texting me and I haven't responded. It's not that I don't want to.
It's that I don't know how to.
I have no clue what to say, and my feelings are all over the place.
His words sound so sincere... so promising. There is a small part of me that feels a pull toward him. I mean, we had a great six months together. I believe there was love there, even though he lied to me.
Now he's telling me that he wants to make it work. Well, for that to be true, that means he had to have left his wife. Is that what he's really saying? Or perhaps she left him. The thought that he is pursuing me should make me feel flattered. Yet, this whole situation really makes me feel sort of sick with despair. I had moved on from this part of my life, and now the wound has been re-opened.
Cormac didn't just lie to me about being married. He lied about the entire nature of our relationship. He threw me under the bus, and didn't look back to see the damage he inflicted. Well, at least he didn't look back until now.
I'm also slightly annoyed because I haven't seen or heard from Cillian in two days. I'm annoyed at him for ignoring me, particularly after he had been so patiently stalking me, and especially after that kiss.
I'm annoyed at myself for being annoyed, because that kiss really didn't mean anything. I specifically remember that night, when I demanded he kiss me, I did so with the thought in my mind that this would be a one-time only thing. Just to satisfy my curiosity, so to speak.
After he had left, it only took me about an hour to reason to myself that, while the kiss was mind blowing and potentially off the charts, orgasm inducing, I really shouldn't get involved with him. He's dangerous, because for some reason, he has the innate power to control me beyond any sound reasoning. While my mind is exhibiting sound judgment right now, I'm afraid my body is going to rebel if I'm in his presence again.
I'm also confused about Cillian because some things are getting turned around in my head. For example, I thought a lasting relationship came from finding a man that was stable in his career. That translated to me someone that practiced commitment, hard work, and dedication. I thought Cormac was the epitome of those traits, and yet the only thing he was committed to was apparently deceiving his wife and me.
Cillian on the other hand?
Well, at first glance, he seems everything that would be antithetical to my wants. He's a rocker, he lives on the road for much of the year, and he lives a party lifestyle. He's arrogant, sometimes rude, and he's trying to sexually dominate me. I should not want any part of those things.
Yet, and I find this to be completely ironic, Cillian has achieved great success in his young years. And the only way he could have achieved that is through commitment, hard work, and dedication.
Confusing indeed.
And, most stressful of all, has been the fact that I have not stopped thinking about the way Cillian kissed me... the way my body and mind reacted to that kiss. It may have been short but it was explosive. At least, to me it was.
Cillian I'm not sure about since I haven't heard from him and I feel like I'm getting the brush off. If that's the case, that will make twice this man has turned fickle on me, which doesn't help the battered self-esteem Cormac left behind.
If I was a smart girl, I would steer clear of Cillian O'Bradaigh and hope his interest in me has worn off.
Trying to put all these thoughts out of my mind, I flop on my couch and pick up a magazine. I'm bored yet I have no energy to get up and do anything. Teagan had a seminar to attend in London and Cady went with her for a few days, so I'm pathetically hiding out in my apartment on my day off.
When my doorbell rings, I roll off the couch and shuffle to the front door. Looking through the peephole, my heart picks up its pace when I see Cillian on the other side. I have no clue why he's here. I don't know whether to be mad he's ignored me, or terribly excited that he's come by.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door. I don't even have time to sort out my feelings because Cillian's hands snake out. One wraps around my waist and the other cups the back of my head, pulling me to him. His mouth covers mine and he literally bends me backward, giving me the deepest, hottest kiss I've ever had in my life. The moment his tongue invades my mouth, he lets out a groan that seems to emanate from deep inside of him and that sound completely melts my insides. I don't want to, but my hands do what they want and wrap around his neck to hang on.
The kiss is demanding, and yet he seems to be seeking something from me. Something more than just the immediate gratification of his desire.
But no sooner has the kiss started then Cillian straightens up his body, pulling me up flush with him. His kiss lightens until he's just nibbling on my lips, an action I find to be sexy and endearing at the same time. He finally pulls his lips away and rests his forehead against mine.
"God, I needed that," he says. He sounds tired.
I pull away to look at him. "Where have you been?" I hope my question sounds merely curious and not accusing in any way.
He releases me and rubs the back of his neck with one hand, as if he has the weight of the world resting there.
"I had some crap to take care of. Can I come in?"
Crap to take care of? And that was more important than calling me or seeing me, especially after we shared that pantie-shredding kiss?
I cross my arms over my chest and block the entrance to my apartment. Now that his body is removed from mine, some of my common sense is returning. I'm now remembering why I tend to shy away from men like Cillian. He's too unpredictable. Unreliable. He has the power to disappoint me.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I say, hoping my words don't betray the desire my body is still feeling and very much wants to invite him in.
He tilts his head to the side and narrows his dark eyes at me. "The way you kissed me just now says different. Why the cold shoulder?"
My own eyes narrow back at him. "Cold shoulder? I find it funny you would accuse me of that."
Cillian sighs and rubs his neck again. "Look. I'm sorry I haven't been to see you. But something important did come up. Trust me when I say I would have rather been with you. I would have rather been anywhere than where I was."
Something about his voice weakens my resolve just a bit. I don't know if he would have rather been with me, but I don't doubt by the tone of his voice that he did not enjoy whatever it was he was doing. "Come on in and I'll make some tea. And you can tell me all about it."
I step aside to let him pass but he does
n't move. "It's not something I really want to talk about."
Um... yeah... that's just not going to do.
"Then you can just be on your merry way then. You kissed me the other night, Cillian, and it was good. No, that's not right. It was great. It was a kiss that told me something better was to come. It was a kiss that convinced me to possibly give you a chance. But I'll be damned if I'm going to be strung along and I'll be damned if I'm going to be available for your whims. You can either convince me that the something else was more important, or you can get the hell gone."
I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction. I'm not even sure if I really care which direction he will choose. Part of me wants to expand my horizons and see what this insane attraction is that's brewing between us. But another part of me, the part that is still the safe, responsible Renner Caldwell, wants him to turn tail and run. That ultimately would be the easiest on me.
My options to Cillian are to leave or to come in and tell me where he was. He chooses to do neither.
Instead, he moves so fast, I don't even have time to register what he's doing. His hands come and grip my head. His mouth comes down on me brutally, pushing my lips apart while he starts walking me backward into my apartment.
I'm vaguely aware he kicks out with a booted foot to slam my door shut. He continues walking me backward until I'm flush up against my living room wall.
The halt in my backward progress doesn't stop him. He merely reaches down with one hand, wraps it under my ass, and hauls me up so that my core is pressed up against his hardness. He does this without even breaking the kiss, thoroughly intent on exploring every inch of my mouth with his tongue.
When my legs just dangle there, he rips his mouth away from mine and growls in frustration, clearly wanting me to wrap myself around him. But he doesn't wait to give me the opportunity to make the choice on my own. Instead, he pins my body to the wall with his hips and says in a voice rich with dark lust, "Put your fucking legs around me, Renner, or I'll do it for you."
It's hard for me to describe what Cillian's words do to me. They touch something that lives in a dark place, deep inside of me. They awaken something in my body that I didn't know was sleeping. With absolute certainty that my brain and common sense have been completely overtaken by this man's sinful charm, whatever that thing is inside of me bursts forth in response to his demand and my legs wrap around his waist and squeeze him tight.
Off Course Page 6
