by KT Fisher
He places a hand on both my arms and leans down so he’s at eye level with me. “Crystal, I know you’re lying to me, and it’s making me worried why you’d do that?”
I don’t reply because I don’t know what I can say. Instead, I look him in the eye and think whether I should tell him or not. Knowing I can’t tell him what Troy did to me, or the shit he put me through, for the same reason I don’t want to tell Tate. They would go after him, and the men I love would be damaged by their actions.
“Please tell me,” Booker begs and I lose myself in his eyes.
With a heavy sigh, I cave. “Okay.”
As soon as I say those words, Booker relaxes a little. “Tell me,” he continues to insist.
“Troy is my ex. He was probably in my dream when I said his name but believe me it wouldn’t have been a good dream if he was in it.”
Booker frowns. “Why not?”
“Let’s just say we don’t get on,” is all I allow myself to reveal.
“Why?” he asks again.
“Why do most exes not get along?” I laugh it off.
After a few seconds of Booker looking at me, I think he finally believes me and he steps back. “Why didn’t you tell me you were with someone?” he asks.
“I don’t know…” I shrug, “…I never thought to bring him up.”
“Were you with him when we met?” Booker asks, but I don’t reply, so he answers for me. “You were.” He becomes angry, and I decide it’s time to leave. I’ve had enough of these questions, and I don’t want to be thinking about Troy any longer than necessary.
Gathering my things, I listen to Booker’s constant pestering about Troy.
“Are you leaving?” he finally asks.
“What does it look like?” I laugh as I put on my shoes.
“Because I’ve asked you about your ex?” he scoffs. “You were with him when we met, weren’t you?”
Again, I ignore his question and look at my reflection in his crappy man mirror as I try to tidy my hair without a hairbrush or comb. It’s pathetic really, who would have a mirror this small? Booker is a good looking man, large muscles, and tattoos. I would think he’d like to admire himself, but then again he’s not a vain man, and I love his body enough for both of us.
“Crystal!” Booker shouts, and I spin around to face him. He obviously notices the anger and annoyance on my face too, and his face relaxes, and he takes a step back.
“What?” I ask.
“Don’t leave.”
I cock my head to the side, flashing him a smirk before barging past him and storming out his house. Booker doesn’t follow me out, but he does shout my name again. I don’t go back. Instead, I continue walking out the gates. I don’t know how to honestly feel that he hasn’t run after me, but I’m also glad because he’ll only ask me about Troy again.
I don’t run back to my brother’s house. Instead, I find myself running in the direction of Roxie. Maybe because I’ve already shared a little with her, and the fact that she’s also been in some trouble, but I feel she’ll understand me more than the others.
I knock on the door and Mason answers.
As soon as he sees me his smile fades, but before he can ask me what’s wrong I jump in asking, “Where’s Roxie?”
“Upstairs with Quin. Why?” he asks in return.
“I need to talk to her.” I step forward and thankfully Mason lets me pass.
He must know something’s up, but he doesn’t ask anything more as I enter his home and run up the stairs. The sweet sounds of Roxie’s voice filter through as she talks sweetly to her son. I find her easily in baby Quin’s bedroom. He’s lying on his back, kicking his chubby little legs up at the baby toys that dangle down. Roxie’s sitting beside him, smiling as she watches.
“Rox?” I speak quietly.
I feel so guilty interrupting their moment.
As soon as she turns to look at me, she seems shocked. “Crystal? What’s happened?”
Moving across, I sit beside her on the rug, smiling over at Quin. “I’ve just come from Booker’s house.”
“You’ve been with Booker?” she asks, seeming confused.
“Yeah, Tate brought someone home last night, and I left the house. Booker found me, and we got some pizza, went back to his place and watched some television.”
“Sounds nice.” Roxie smiles, unsure as to my stress.
“This morning he started questioning me about who Troy is.”
Roxie’s eyes widen, and she suddenly understands why I’m here. “Crap.” She scoots closer to me. Roxie’s the only person who knows about Troy. Well, now Booker does also, but only that he exists. Roxie’s the one who found me in tears after I last saw Troy. I was hysterically crying, but Roxie calmed me down and didn’t ask me anything I didn’t want her to ask. She told me that she was always there if I needed her, and I need her now. I really respect that about Roxie, she’s been through enough shit in her life recently to not to pry information from me that I’m not ready to tell.
“Roxie, remember when you said you’re here for me when I’m ready?”
She simply nods in answer.
“Well, I’m ready.”
Roxie calls down for Mason. He continues to play with Quin while Roxie and I go outside to the garden to talk privately. Sitting down to face me, Roxie places her hand on top of mine. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
With a deep breath, I allow myself to delve into my past memories and reveal to my friend, who exactly Troy is, and why I can never let Tate or Booker know about him.
I’d spent all day cleaning his dirty apartment. Troy didn’t care for tidiness, but I couldn’t stand to live in a mess. While he was at work, I had to clean and cook. If Troy came home and he found out that I hadn’t done a single thing all day long, I wouldn’t be in good shape for the next day. I liked to make sure that everything was spotless, and dinner was ready to be served as soon as he decided to show his face.
This particular day, Troy was home early, and I wasn’t expecting it. I’d nearly finished cleaning the apartment—from the breakfast pots to vacuum cleaning and laundry. The dinner was almost cooked. I’d made him a simple cheesy lasagna, and it just needed more color on top. It was sure to be ready on time for when Troy stepped in, but I didn’t know he was coming home early by nearly an hour. I thought I still had those sixty minutes to play with until I had to see him. So I wasn’t expecting Troy to slap me on the ass, as I was bent over polishing the table because I had my headphones blasting in my eardrums.
Troy stood over me as I turned and removed my headphones. “As nice as it is to see you on your knees, I’m hungry, babe.”
Jumping up, I ran for the kitchen, but Troy stopped me. “First, where’s my kiss?”
“Sorry.” I leaned up to kiss him. I meant to just give him a polite kiss, but Troy grabbed me and held me against him. Kissing me like his life depended on it.
“I missed you today.” He smiled down at me.
Looking up at him, the way his eyes devoured me and his hand caressed my cheek, you wouldn’t think that he slapped me so hard the week before, that I landed on the floor on impact.
“I missed you, too.” I smiled up at him.
“So why haven’t you got my dinner ready?” His face turned dark, and I shrunk back.
“It nearly is, I didn’t think you would be home just yet.” As soon as I spoke the words, I regretted them.
“So what? You thought you could be lazy and do fuck all while I’m out making money?” he shouted in my face.
I shook my head beginning to answer, but Troy stopped me by grabbing my head and squeezing. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I’m sorry,” was all I could say. No matter what I would have said, it would have pissed him off. So I agreed with him. “I’ll finish dinner now.”
“No need, just yet.” Troy smirked.
That night was the first night I realized that I needed to get away from Troy. He pushed me down to the floor and beat
me so bad I didn’t dare leave the apartment for a month. I wasn’t able to easily move, and no amount of makeup could cover the bruises. What was worse was that after he had beaten me, Troy expected me to finish the dinner and serve it up, all whilst I was in terrible pain.
As I look up from my hands, and into Roxie’s eyes I see how horrified look written on her face.
“Oh, Crystal,” she cries and jumps to the space beside me and wraps her arms around me.
“I’m okay,” I whisper. “It took about four months after that, but I was able to track Tate down and hide away with the band.”
“But he followed you?” she asks.
Hanging my head in shame. “Actually, no, I went back to him. He was okay for a month, but then he showed his true colors again. That time I did have to go to the hospital, but I managed to sneak out and find Tate once more. I never saw him again until he got in touch. And… well… you know how that ended.”
That was the night I regretfully met up with Troy after he sent me a letter not long after we arrived here. It didn’t end well. Troy was the same, he threatened me to go back with him. For some reason I believed he’d changed, and I stupidly went along with it. He belittled me in front of the waiters, and I ran out crying, so he came outside and roughed me up a little more. That was when I rang Roxie in tears.
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Roxie tries to reassure me.
“No, it is.” I look at her. “I foolishly thought that he’d change, and I’m even more of a fool because I still have a little love left for him.” I begin to laugh at myself. “God, that’s so fucked up.”
I begin to cry, and Roxie holds me tightly. We stay like that for a while, with Roxie soothing me and me letting her.
“Joe was crazy, and that was only down to a one night stand, but you had to live with this man. You put up with his temper and lash outs for so long. I knew you were a strong woman when I met you, but I never knew how much until now.” Roxie smiles at me, wiping away my tears with her fingers. “I never knew you went through that, but it’s made you who you are. Never be ashamed of that, be proud of what you’ve come through.”
“I will try.” I smile. “But nobody can ever know, Rox.”
“Are you sure that’s such a smart thing to do?” she asks me. “I kept secrets, and it didn’t go so well.”
“I’m sure,” I answer.
“But Troy sounds dangerous. What if you’re repeating what happened with Joe?” she asks, looking apprehensive.
“He’s a horrible man, but I don’t think he’d go to extremes like Joe did,” I answer sure of my words.
Before she can add anything else, Mason appears from the door and strolls over to us. He looks at us both, concern written all over his face.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Fine,” I quickly answer, smiling at them both and holding my arms out to baby Quin.
Mason eyes Roxie, and with a nod from her, he passes Quin over to me. As soon as I hold his chubby little body and inhale his baby scent, a calmness spreads all throughout me.
“Booker’s coming over,” Mason declares.
I continue to look down at the cute little boy in my arms trying to calm my nerves. I don’t feel like seeing Booker right now.
“Does he know I’m here?” I ask without looking up from Quin.
“That’s why he’s coming.” Mason laughs a little, but I don’t think this is funny at all.
I don’t have time to do anything, though, because right away Booker’s entering the backyard. He must have already been making his way over here when he asked Mason, or Mason delayed coming down to tell me after he’d heard from Booker.
“Crys…” Booker sighs, “…I’m so sorry.”
“Please don’t,” I beg him, still looking down at Quin. I let him grip onto my finger and smile down at the little guy.
“Just talk to me,” he begs, and I look over to Roxie, urging with my eyes for her to step in.
She pats me softly on the leg and stands between Booker and me. “Booker, let’s leave this for today, shall we?”
“I need to have her understand,” he insists, and a tear drops down onto Quin’s stomach.
“Not today,” Roxie demands.
“Come on, Book…” Mason steps in, “…let’s leave the girls, yeah?”
“Crystal?” Booker asks once more.
Finally, I look up to find Booker looking at me so intensely. “Not now.”
With a nod, Booker takes my word as final and walks away with Mason.
“Thank you,” I whisper to Roxie.
“No need to thank me, I have your back.” Roxie hugs me, and we look down at Quin, just then he decides to fart on my hand and we break out into uncontrollable laughter.
When I wake the next morning, I decide it’s time to go back to my brother’s house. Roxie wanted me to stay at hers last night, she kept a close and caring eye on me, but we didn’t talk anymore about Troy or Booker. Mason kept looking at me, curious to know what the matter was. No doubt that now I’ve left, he’s quizzing Roxie over what went down yesterday. I trust her to tell Mason what he needs to know, without giving away too much information or mentioning Troy’s name.
As I’m walking the twenty-minute distance to Tate’s house, I spot Booker.
“On your way to Mason’s?” I ask, stopping as we stand in front of each other.
Booker smiles a little and shakes his head. “Not now that I’ve seen you.”
“I guessed that.” I roll my eyes.
We stand for a couple of seconds, and then break out in nervous smiles. After a long talk with Roxie this morning, after I’d calmed down, I came to a decision that I would talk with Booker. However, I was hoping that I wouldn’t see him so quickly after coming to that realization. It appears that I don’t have very much luck lately, so I guess there’s no time like the present.
“Look, about yesterday—” I begin, but Booker cuts me off.
“Forget about it, I have.” He brushes it off.
“Really?” I ask. “I was going to—”
But Booker cuts me off again. “Don’t say you’re sorry, you shouldn’t be.”
“In that case, it’s all gone.” I smile.
“Probably not too hard for you anyway.” Booker laughs.
“What are you trying to say?” I accuse playfully.
“Nothing…” Booker laughs, “...Little Acorn.”
My eyes widen at the nickname. Tate used to love picking on me when we were younger, and his favorite nickname for me was Little Acorn because he said that was the size of my brain.
“Hey!” I playfully slap his arm and straight away Booker flinches. “Oh my God! I’m sorry.”
Booker looks down at his arm, smiling, but I can see the pain on his face. “It’s fine.”
“What’s the matter? Is it the bullet wound?” I ask him, concerned that I might have hurt his injury. Horrible images of what happened to him flash back—Booker lying on the floor in pain, clutching his shoulder and blood pouring from the wound.
“No, it’s okay,” he assures me.
“Liar.” I frown.
“Fine.” He sighs. “It’s still sore and stiff to move.”
Immediately I feel like shit. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
Booker wriggles his arm around a little and smiles down at me. “It’s fine.”
“Have you played the drums yet?” I dare to ask him.
When he came out of surgery, the doctor told him not to play the drums until he was informed otherwise. He could badly damage it, and if it’s that bad, he could ruin his chance of ever playing the drums, as well as he does now, for the rest of his life.
“Not yet, and it fucking kills me,” he grumbles.
“Book…” I reach out and touch his other arm.
“I have a follow up in a couple of weeks. They should let me know then if I’m healed enough to play,” Booker tries to reassure me, but I see that he’s severely bothered.
�
�Let’s go and get a drink,” I offer.
“At your brother’s?” he asks, looking surprised.
“Maybe it’s better if we go to yours…” I offer again, “…but I’ll get the drink.”
“Come on.” He holds me close. “Let’s go and get that drink.”
After Booker poured a drink for himself, we went into his garden.
“Are you worried about the check up on your shoulder?” I ask him, and by the look on his face, I know that he is.
“Not really,” he lies. “I’ll just wait to hear what they have to say.”
“I’ll come with you if you want?” I offer.
Booker looks honestly shocked. “Are you sure?”
“Why not?” I laugh.
“Because Tate will want to know why.”
Booker’s right, this will make my brother wonder why I want to go with him.
“I’ll think about that when it comes to it…” I scoot closer to him, “…but I want to come with you.”
“You still care?” Booker asks quietly.
I look up at him as he sits beside me, frowning to his handsome face. “Of course, I do. I never stopped.”
Booker places his drink on the floor and turns to face me completely. Silently, his hand reaches up and softly caresses my cheek, I close my eyes for a few seconds leaning into his hand. His touch so familiar, and I didn’t realize how much I missed it.
“Crystal,” he whispers against my lips. When I open my eyes the intensity that shines through his shocks me. “I miss you.”
“I miss you, too,” I whisper back, afraid to speak too loudly.
Booker looks down at my lips. “I want to kiss you.”
Swallowing down my nerves, I answer him, “Then do it.”
Without a second of doubt, Booker leans close and claims my mouth as his own. With both hands he secures me against him, kissing me like we are forever lovers. I moan against him, and he growls deep within his throat in return. My hands reach for him now, holding onto his arms because I’m afraid to fall. I feel so lightheaded I’m not sure I’m still sitting down.
I return back to Tate’s, still feeling a little lightheaded from the kiss Booker, and I shared last night. It was hard to stop and remove my mouth from his, after all this time I’m blown away at how good a kisser he still is. I stayed over, though, how could I not after that? But we didn’t remain in the same bed, I slept in the spare bedroom. But oddly I still felt hyper aware of Booker sleeping in the bedroom down the hall. Wondering how he was sleeping? What he was wearing, wondering if he slept nude?
