“Something?”
Maybe I don’t need to stand? Maybe I can glide down his body like this… and open his pants like-
“Whoa. Babe,” Luke chuckles dryly, grabbing my shoulders and lifting me back up. “You go there and I go nowhere else but in you. Not that I don’t want in, but I… shit you taste good,” he growls, leaning over me to devour my mouth again.
I’m being unfair, but it’s hard – pun intended - because he is. Like a silk covered rock deliciously pressing into my abdomen.
Still, with all of that, he really does have to go. Placing my palms on his chest - okay they may have landed over his nipples - I press gently and move back slightly. “Sorry, that wasn’t very nice.” I frown, rising onto my toes to bite his chin.
“If you think offering to go down on me isn’t being nice, then you can… not… be nice anytime you want, babe,” Luke laughs. “But I do have to go. Won’t be late home, kay?” he mumbles through a kiss to the side of my lips.
“You be as late as you want Luke. Go have fun baby, you deserve it.” My eyes roam over his face while my hands trail over his broad shoulders, smoothing out his jacket.
You sure are pretty, Luke Andrews.
“Love you Maggie Mae.” Luke’s lips feather over mine as he speaks, his breath filling my lungs. I’d hold him in forever if I could.
He lifts me, folding my legs around his waist, and carries me to the laundry door that opens into the garage. Pressing the button on the wall to activate the retracting door, he kisses my neck and carefully lowers me to my feet.
“Won’t be too late,” he promises again, smirking as he gets comfortable behind the wheel of my car. ‘Not a white car kind of car guy’ indeed. Lifting a hand in a wave, he drives off smiling.
“I’m in love with you too, Luke Andrews,” I whisper, even though he can’t hear me. I press the button to close the automatic door and head back inside. I’m such a coward. I haven’t found the courage to tell him to his face, but I will.
Loving Luke is different to loving Brendan. It’s still good. No, it’s better, it’s great… we’re great - fantastic, just different.
I like different.
I’M STANDING AT the doorway of our bedroom – mine and Luke’s - squeezing my hair with a towel after my shower, while giving my handy work the once-over. Crisp white ceiling and trims, and a sort of tan/latte for the walls, a darker coffee colour for the curtains. The new queen bed should be delivered on Monday and hopefully put together and ready to go by Monday night.
I hang the damp towel on the door handle and slip into my underwear and black leggings. From inside the walk-in wardrobe, I shake a cosy green knitted dress that Luke likes me in off the hanger and slide it over my head. I’m tugging at the waist line to straighten it out when I hear the doorbell ring. Huh.
Combing my fingers through my hair, I stick my head into the spare room to check the time and see that it’s well after eleven. I step into my ugg boots and head to the door, cinch the chain into place before slowly opening it a crack.
“Hey sweetheart.”
What the hell?
He’s so thin and pasty I can’t believe it’s the same man. “Red?”
He chuckles, resting a bent arm to the brickwork by the door. “You still my friend sweetheart?”
Shocked, I nod. “Of course.”
It’s still him, still Red. My Red. He just looks so different. Thinner, like his life force has been drained out of him.
Is this what I did to him?
“That’s good to hear. Been a while, thought you might have forgotten me by now,” he sniffs, offering me a closed mouth smirk that shows off his dimple, which in turn makes my heart sag. What did I do to him?
“You’re a hard man to forget, Red,” I reply sadly.
That entire phase of my life is going to be hard to forget and forgive myself for, even though it’s what I asked for. Red gave me everything I was looking far. Everything I was looking for. And I dropped him cold.
I’m such a bed person.
I take my bottom lip between my teeth and take my time to gaze over him. He looks gaunt, ill. And it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left like I did. I should have taken his calls, made sure he was okay, made sure he had money, food. I should have done something. I should have done more.
“Can I come in, sweetheart?” he asks, holding up his hands in surrender. “I won’t do nothin’, really. Just want to come in and say hello is all. No strings sweetheart,” Red promises, taking a step backwards to stand directly under the porch light.
His clothes are hanging off him - at a guess I’d have to say that he’s at least ten kilos lighter than when I saw him last. His dark eyes are dull, empty. He seems so lost and I know that’s partially my doing. He took care of me when I needed it. How can I not let him in when it’s my turn to help him now?
“Hang on.” I close the door, release the chain and re-open it, stepping to the side to give him room to enter and close it again. “Come on, kitchen’s this way.” I indicate with a tilt of my head and lead the way.
I can feel Red following closely. It sends nervous chills down my spine. In all our time together, albeit an intoxicated time, I never once felt threatened. So why does now feel different? Because I’ve found my place and he hasn’t?
I’ll talk to Luke; we’ll get him some help. We’ll get him back on his feet. It’s the least we can do.
I point to one of the stools by the breakfast bench for him to sit and stand on the other side he needs to food. “Coffee?”
“Sure,” Red replies resting his elbows on the counter top.
I slide a mug over to him. “So, how are you?”
“You know me, sweetheart, always good. You, on the other hand look fucking beautiful.”
“Thanks,” I reply timidly, pouring myself a cup and adding milk and sugar. “Do you take…?”
“Black’s good.”
Red’s intense scrutiny is unwavering. He follows my every move as I return the milk to the fridge and the sugar to the pantry, then retrieve a pack of choc chip biscuits to help stall for something to say.
I used to beg for this man’s time and attention, for the peace he could give me. Now I can’t help pity what he’s become - what I could have become right along with him. Once again, I thank the Gods above for Luke.
“You look different,” I offer.
“So do you.”
I nod in agreement. “I feel different, better.” Then I shrug, “Are you hungry? I could make you something if you like?”
I step to the cook top and take the frying pan from the cupboard below it. “I happen to make a mean egg scramble, though they do get confused sometimes.” I look over my shoulder with a forced smile, “The eggs get confused because they’re scrambled,” I explain lamely when Red’s expression doesn’t change.
I open the fridge and take out the eggs, hold them up with a jiggle, then turn back to the cooker. “You do like eggs, right?” I ask, more to fill in the white noise.
“I’ll take whatever you’re offering, sweetheart,” Red whispers in my ear, scaring the absolute shit out of me.
The second I open my mouth to gasp in surprise he’s at me. A hand’s thrown over my mouth. Something lands onto my tongue and slides to the back of throat causing me to gag.
No…
I start thrashing, throwing my head from side to side. Red tightens his grip so I can barely move, encasing me with his body against the cupboards.
I’m choking, desperately trying not to swallow. Moisture’s pooling in my mouth, and I… I can’t breathe. Red’s hand’s over my mouth, over my nose and I can’t breathe.
I have to… I have… I swallow.
My head and heart explode with panic. I thrash and kick and try to scream through Red’s suffocating hand. I push off from the cupboards to force him back, to try to get him to loosen his grip.
He starts chuckling. He’s too strong, deceptively strong, and the more I fight the tighter he strangl
es me, lifting me completely off the ground to stop me from using the doors as leverage against him. He ends up carrying me kicking and crying, screaming uselessly under his damp palm to the lounge, and pins me on the couch.
“Shh, sweetheart. It’s all good. Just let my friend help mellow you out so we can go and have some fun like we used to.”
I try to talk, but my words come out as muffled grunts, so I frantically shake my head. It’s starting to swim, the familiar sensation climbing its way under my skin, taking me… No… please no… I think I’m-
“Well, that’s where we have a problem, sweetheart. You see, Sam wants another taste, and I’ve got me a few debts that I need you to clear, so…” Red’s grip loosens when he feels the fight seep out of me.
My limbs are gaining weight and my head is clouding. In the past I begged, - literally begged for this numbness to overtake me, but not anymore. Now I’m scared. “What… did you?”
“Nothing real, sweetheart. You know how it is. Or have you forgotten?” He smirks, lowering his face so closely to mine, I can almost taste his rancid breath. “Do you need a little reminding, sweetheart?” he asks moistening his lips. “Always liked the way you tasted.” Then he licks up from my jaw to my mouth.
“How you feelin’?” I’m drawing desperate breaths through flared nostrils, praying for my body to move, to fight harder to get away. “Need more help to relax, or are you good?”
His head tilts to one side as he inspects me. “A little more, I think.”
The cushions dip with his movement as he digs into a pocket and holds up a small pill between his fingers for me to see. “Just like we used to, sweetheart.”
Grinning, he sucks in his bottom lip and lifts his hand from my mouth just enough to push the second tablet painfully past my teeth, clamping down hard so I can’t spit it out.
“Fuck it’s sexy when you’re under me like this,” he snarls, licking my cheek this time.
It’s useless. I’m useless. The pill’s dissolving no matter where I push it with my tongue. I have to swallow, I have… to…
My eyes are blurring and I can feel my head lolling in the same direction as the sag in the couch. I want to hold it up, but I can’t. I can feel wet surreal tears roll off my face; their caressing, feather light movements are… terrifyingly sensational.
“There’s my girl. Come on, sweetheart. Sam’s waiting on you,” Red says in his deep tone like he’s talking to his lover not his captive.
I want to fight and scream, get him off me. I’m not his anything. I’m Luke’s and… Luke’s my everything.
Oh God, Luke… I’m so sorry… I’m trying, I am, but… my eyes want…
“Just go with it, sweetheart. I’m going to take real good care of you.” Red’s sour breath brushes across my cheek.
We’re in Red’s old sports car, winding our way through traffic. My body’s thrown to the side and my head hits the door. I think it hurts, or at least it is going to. My eyes want to close, so they do.
Something is being forced into my mouth and I want to spit it out, but a large hand’s pressing down over my face forcing my chin upwards. I want to fight it, I do, but my eyes want to close more… they close…
There’s slapping on my face and I’m being told to stand, but I’m finding it hard to keep my balance. Deep voices are carrying over loud thumping music and now I want to become part of the heavy bass flowing through my body. I stumble and sway to the fantastic rumbling vibrating through me. I’m caught in limbo, my mind awash with conflicting emotions, of arguing desires. To stay or leave, to decipher want and need. To care, or not.
Not is so much easier.
My left foot feels different to my right. I look down and see that I only have one shoe on. Curling my toes over the tacky wet floor, I am enthralled by the sensation. It’s strange and feels so other worldly. I wish Luke could feel this, too. Be with me to share in all the wonderful euphoric sensations.
My eyes fall heavily, and sadness begins fills my heart. This isn’t for Luke. Not my Luke. He’s too good for this. He’s better than this, than me. He can’t see me in my shame; me at my lowest. A side of my character that I’ll always be ashamed of, because I like it so much. I like the non-reality, I like how easy it makes everything, I like how it all just disappears… at least, until it gives back to actuality. Then life hits twice as hard.
But I have Luke now and things are getting better every day… I have Luke.
Luke loves me.
I love Luke.
I need to leave, clear my thoughts. I don’t want this anymore… I think.
No.
This isn’t who I am, isn’t who I’m going to be.
I start weaving my way through the throng of gyrating bodies, hoping I’m heading in the right direction. I’m not tall enough to see if there is an exit sign so I continue to step randomly. One foot’s encased in heaven, the other plays with the incredible texture of the hard cold floor.
Velvet hands take hold of my hips from behind and roam up and around my ribs. My eyes close of their own accord as my skin tingles and hums in delight. Softness presses into my back and hands cup my breasts, massaging them until my nipples pucker and harden. Sticky soft lips work their way over my shoulder and up my neck, over my jaw, coaxing me to turn. A soft tongue probes my mouth open and kisses me deeply.
“Abigail.” That’s Red’s voice. “She’s mine.” Firm hands clasps me and a much firmer, muscular body presses into my front. Then I’m being kissed again. Scratchy hard lips kiss me possessively. The sensation from soft to firm is amazing and has my heart picking up and heat rising throughout me.
God, it’s all so good, I want more, so much more. But I don’t want this person. I don’t want to be this person. I push away.
He holds tighter.
“She’s just lovely Red. Share her.” Abigail’s biting on Red’s lower lip. She draws it in and kisses him while I watch in morbid fascination. “Look, she wants to, Red.” She presses her open mouth over mine and it’s so, so soft, but not what I want. She laps at the roof with a thick tongue before I sluggishly move away. It’s so weird, everyone’s moving in normal time except for me. I’m a step behind, I’m confused and slow, and always a step behind.
I don’t like it. I used to like it, but not anymore. I want to leave, get my limbs to coordinate and do what they’re told and take me the hell out of here.
“Give her to me Red,” Abigale begs.
“Maybe later. When Sam gets here.” She pouts full and glossy, then turns and saunters away.
Red holds up half a pill for me to see and then slips it into my mouth. I shake my lethargic head in protest. I don’t have the power to tell him no. I want to tell him no.
I think, maybe, that I do. I’m so confused.
I want to go home.
Carrying me to a booth, Red slides me into the seat and holds a shot glass for me to drink from. I am so numb, the burning sensation barely registers. He follows it up with another, then another, laughing at me, joking with people I don’t know while feeding me further into oblivion.
A thickly set tank of a man leans over the table to tell Red that Sam’s here, whoever Sam is. He takes my chin in his calloused hand and turns my dense head from side to side. “She’s done, Red. Don’t give her anymore or you’ll take her too far.”
“Fuck off. Sweetheart’s good, aren’t you sweetheart?”
What? I’m done? It’s time for me to go? But why now, when I finally learned how to exhale? When I finally found Luke?
“See? Fucking perfect.” Red pulls on my arm, “Let’s go.”
“Suit yourself, man.” The tank shrugs and walks away.
Red has to help prop me up, directing me past the dance floor. I don’t want to go with him. I want to find the way out of this confusion. I want to go home.
I drag my feet, causing us to stumble under my dead weight. I try to turn him in the other direction. He jerks me to him, scowling, then removes something from his pocket an
d feeds it to me. It’s more of the same.
I play with them, shuffling them around in my mouth with my tongue. I count:
One: my limbs numb…
Two: my chest constricts…
Three: my heart’s pounding…
Four: sharpness stabs at my head, my stomach…
Five: I fall…
Chapter 16
WARM BREATHS FEATHER across my skin, the fresh mint drifting up my nose and into my soul where I want to keep it captive forever.
There’s a monitor beeping from behind me. The rate slowly increases with my heartbeat. Patterns are gently drawn on my cheek and the quiet hum of a tune is filling the otherwise silent void.
My heavy eyes crack open to slits and I’m immediately greeted by the serene blue of the deepest oceans, before they fall closed again.
“Hey, beautiful,” Luke whispers. “Take your time baby. You’re safe, I’ve got you.” He presses his lips to the corner of my mouth.
“You-” My words catch in my scratchy sore throat. Swallowing carefully, I try again. “You missed,” I gravel out painfully, feeling my mouth rise on one side.
“Sorry.” The small bed rocks gently then Luke and hits me. “Better?”
Perfect. “Mm-hmm.” I swallow thickly again. “How did you-” God, it hurts to speak.
“Hey, don’t try to talk Maggie Mae. You’re safe; everything’s going to be fi- okay.”
I shake my head slightly at his almost slip-up. We don’t do fine anymore.
“How do you… how do always seem to know when I need you the most?”
He smiles in reply. “That’s easy. It’s because I love you Maggie Mae, so fucking much I’d find you anywhere.”
Luke’s eyes fill with moisture, not concerned about showing his emotions. He’s not afraid to let them trickle to the pillow we’re sharing; he’s not afraid of letting me see him cry, showing me how much he loves me in more than words.
His lids close, resting his forehead to mine. “You scared me so fucking much, I thought for a second there…” I hold a long blink. For a second there, I thought so, too.
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