Revival

by Rebecca Sherwin

  I pulled up outside her building and smiled at her reaction. Finally, her thoughts were written on her face for all to see. She was wondering why a guy like me was driving something that looked like a Little Tikes. I’d wondered the same thing when I saw it the day Lois bought it.

  Skye climbed in the car and I turned the heat up; her mother didn’t bother with central heating – Skye looked like she’d just stepped out of the Ice Age.

  Remember the part about me being an asshole? Here’s why.

  I knew she didn’t know about Ollie fighting. I’d betrayed him the second I decided to take Skye to fight night. My own pardon from punishment would be that Ollie would appreciate it eventually. Skye could come to the gym, too. She could get out of the dark, dirty flat I’d gotten a glimpse of earlier.

  I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter that my main motivation was to be as close to Skye as I was allowed to get; I was doing it for Ollie. I had to believe that to keep the guilt away. It threatened to smother me when I saw the terror in Skye’s eyes. I kept the mask in place and laughed off her fear. She was terrified. I knew I’d made a mistake, but there was no going back now.

  Chapter Nine

  Want.

  Right now I wanted to rewind time and erase my existence. I’d failed. I’d attacked. I’d ruin everything.

  January 7th, 2003

  I knew. The moment Ollie slumped to the floor, I saw the life leave him. My senses failed me and autopilot set in. I shut down and stood up. I blocked out the sound, I kept my eyes on Skye as she flew towards the cage in a hysterical state, and I ignored all sensations that would have otherwise made me double over in pain; the numb weakness in my legs, the throbbing in my head, the pounding of my heart, the heat. God, the heat. I was so hot, burning with fear. I put one foot in front of the other and went to Skye. I peeled her away from the metal and took her away from the scene I knew would change lives forever.

  I sat in the hospital with the others and held Skye’s hand, praying that my pathetic excuse for comfort would somehow change what had happened in the last two hours. I knew it wouldn’t. I knew when the doctor walked in and asked for next of kin that Ollie wouldn’t leave the hospital the man he’d been when we spent the day watching movies and keeping him calm.

  The venom that was Curtis Mason had infiltrated the Jones family and torn it apart.

  I had fucked up. I had let my evil into Ollie and Skye’s lives and it was the Juggernaut, the man fighting for everything, who paid the price.

  I paced the hallway, keeping my eyes on Dr Khan’s office, waiting for Skye to come out.

  I’d never seen a person broken before, but I knew Skye was broken beyond repair when she emerged from the room and fell to the floor. I fell with her and prayed her pain would somehow leave her and transfer to me.

  It was my fault.

  I tried. I tried so hard to make things better in the coming days, by being there for Skye. She didn’t say anything, not one word, and I knew she was replaying that night over and over again.

  I kept her out of the house, I tried to feed her, I tried to hug the pain away, but I knew it was pointless. There were no words, no actions, which would make her suffering bearable. Her grief became her; that sparkle that had drawn me to her was gone and I didn’t know how to fix it.

  I dropped her home after the funeral, aching, craving, needing to get her out of there, but knowing she’d suffer one way or another if I did. I went home suffocating in the guilt that made it impossible to breathe and headed straight upstairs. I tore my clothes off, the rip of the material the only sound in the building. I pulled frantically and gasped for air. I stood in front of the mirror and looked at the monster reflecting back. Every muscle, every line, every inch of my trembling body disgusted me. My chest was heaving and I pounded it wildly, willing it to stop. A garbled growl left me and I fell to my knees, pulling my hair and letting the strangled cries free.

  There was nothing redeemable about the man who lived in my body. I’d proven that my whole life. My parents died because of me. I’d ruined Lois and Phil’s life. I’d attracted the bullies who made my school life hell. Ollie died because of me. Geoff wasted time and money on me and here I was, still trapped in a life that held no purpose. Geoff promised to teach me how to be a man, but I was an animal. My father used to be proud of me, but I had failed him. My mother used to call me her little soldier, but she would be repulsed by what I had become. I was no soldier; I was a kamikaze and anyone who got close would go down with me.

  I struggled to my feet, pulled on some pants and ran downstairs. I didn’t bother with the lights, I didn’t care about the gloves. I punched the bag over and over, choking for air until the sweat mixed with the tears and they were indistinguishable.

  “Curtis?”

  My father’s voice echoed in my head and the vision of the beaten up old Skoda going over the ravine filled my mind.

  “Curtis?”

  My mother’s musical voice pierced my ears and I saw her at the stove, stirring a pan of porridge and smiling at me over her shoulder.

  “Curtis?”

  I heard Ollie’s voice. He was laughing while we sparred in the ring and he got a cheap shot in.

  I punched harder, barely feeling the skin on my knuckles tear.

  “Curtis?”

  I heard Skye and the shriek that left her when Ollie received the fatal punch. She was looking right at me. She knew what I had done.

  “Curtis?”

  I heard Geoff. I felt hands on my shoulders. I turned with an almighty swing and a guttural roar, but he sidestepped and caught me in a hold. I fought and fought, but my hands were numb. My arms grew heavy until they fell to my sides and my mind began to blur. I felt the sleeper hold; he was cutting off my oxygen as my lungs fought for it. He let go and I fell to my hands and knees, desperately trying to breathe. I couldn’t. My peripheral vision was getting smaller and smaller. The floor was spinning beneath me. I was dying.

  “Curtis.”

  Geoff grabbed me and pulled me up to sit on the bench. He thrust my head between my legs and kneeled in front of me.

  “Breathe.” His voice sounded like a muffled echo. “Slowly, in and out.”

  I calmed gradually as my shallow breaths got deeper. My hammering heart slowed and my vision returned.

  “Look at me.”

  I sat up and my eyes met Geoff’s.

  “You’re okay.”

  “I’m not okay,” I shook my head, but he reached out and held it still. “I’m not okay.”

  “Talk to me.”

  “Look at me!”

  “I am,” he replied. “I am, Curtis. You’re not alone.”

  “I deserve to be,” I sighed and feel back against the wall. “She is.”

  “Ollie’s sister?” I nodded. “You can take care of her.”

  “No,” I reared up, ignoring the vertigo and went back to the bag. “I’m not good.”

  “Not good, or not good enough?”

  “Neither.”

  “Yes, you-”

  “Don’t,” I wiped my bloody hands down my shorts, looking at Geoff and pleading with him to just quit it. “Just don’t.”

  “I’m right ‘ere, son. I’m ‘ere to show you that you are,” we turned our heads as a pretty little blonde walked through the door. “Shall I get rid?”

  “No.”

  I nodded my head to beckon her closer; I’d been with her a few weeks before. She had obviously seen the newspaper and was snooping for gossip. Geoff leaned into me.

  “You can control this,” he said. “We all make mistakes but you don’t have to self-sabotage.”

  “I’m not,” I lied, eyeing the blonde. Then Geoff. And then I gave him the look. He needed to leave.

  With a sigh of defeat and a shake of his head, Geoff turned and skulked to the office. He slammed the door shut and closed the blinds as the blonde got closer and stopped just in front of me, so close I could smell her sickly sweet perfume.

  �
�What do you want?” I barked.

  “I heard what happened.”

  “The whole town has heard.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “I care, Cut Throat.”

  Of course she did. She cared enough to not care about my name, instead using one that brought the anger back to the surface and the bile to rise in my throat. I laughed.

  “I don’t.”

  “What?” She was taking the sweet factor too far. It made me feel sick.

  “I know what you’re here for. You’re not getting it from me.” She wanted to be the saviour, she wanted me to cry on her shoulder so she could form a bond that was entirely surface-deep and fictitious. “Get upstairs.”

  I watched her stomach tighten in excitement and as she turned and headed for the hallway without a second thought, I followed her. Once upstairs and inside the flat, she turned expecting a kiss. I pushed her back against the far wall instead.

  It was time to forget.

  Chapter Ten

  “Tell me you’ve done this before,” I asked, but it was a meaningless question.

  I’d never given myself to another before. I’d never opened the cage and let the animal out.

  There was no going back now.

  I had a vial of venom in my hand and it had Skye’s name on it.

  March 1st, 2003

  I knew I had to leave, but I couldn’t. I spent every day with Skye, until I relied on her to be able to breathe. Knowing I’d see her was my only reason for getting out of bed. She thought we were friends and only I knew that it would be impossible. I couldn’t be friends with her; I couldn’t label what we had as an innocent connection between two people, because it was far from innocent. It was dangerous; only she had no idea. I let her believe I was decent. I let her believe I was human, but I knew I wasn’t. I protected her because I had no choice – she was my lifeline. I kept my thoughts to myself because if she knew what I was really thinking, she would run and I’d lose the only thing that kept me alive. I wanted her violently. I was going insane with the need to have her in every way possible. I became a different person for her. I wasn’t Cut Throat. I wasn’t Curtis Mason. I was someone else; another personality to add to the collection and with each passing day, I became more confused over who the real Curtis was.

  In one night, during one conversation, she brought every version of me colliding into a torrent that gave me a glimpse of hope. She wanted to fight. She wanted me to show her how to be free. Stupidly, I agreed, because it meant more time with her. But I couldn’t teach her how to be free; I was a prisoner of my own fate and my only hope was that she would come out of it unscathed.

  She wouldn’t let me say no.

  I gave her a few lessons; she was good because, just like Ollie, she had something to fight for.

  “Can we spar?” she asked.

  I couldn’t answer. She looked at me hopefully, the excitement in her eyes giving them a sparkle they hadn’t had since before…

  I didn’t want to do it. Seeing her in training stuff was torture. She was sexy; irresistible and she was focused. My need for her only intensified when I saw her in position and ready to fight.

  “I don’t fight anymore, Skye.”

  I hoped that would be enough to discourage her, but I should have known it wouldn’t. She saw the darkness and she wasn’t afraid. She wanted to get beneath it and I could have easily let her when she asked the question I’d been dreading.

  “Why?”

  “Sure, let’s spar.”

  I couldn’t let her in. Once I did, there’d be no going back.

  She needed to be able to escape.

  We sparred. She was good, but I kept the mood light and tried to knock her confidence. I wanted her to flourish more than anything; she deserved it, but not like this. I couldn’t let her feel the intense desperation I had for her. I had to stop. With every hit from her that sent shocks through my body and every hit from me that drew a moan from her, I moved closer towards losing it.

  “You’re done. Exhausted, dazed and ready to give up,” I said as she doubled over after an intentionally winding punch. I needed a minute to rein it in.

  “I’m not giving up.”

  She hit with a punch that knocked me for six. She laughed that laugh that made my heart skip a beat. I’d met my match and I’d lost it. I picked her up and tickled her. I needed to hear her laugh again and when it came, I lost my mind. I backed her up to the ring and tugged our gloves off.

  “You want to play dirty?” I asked, my mouth so close to hers I could already taste her. “I’m the one with the strength.”

  I dropped the veil and let her see a part of the soul I kept hidden. I’d never shown anyone before. Her eyes locked on mine and she saw it, and then she said the words I was begging her to say, but hoping she wouldn’t.

  “Prove it.”

  When my mind returned from the primitive place of torment I called home, we were in my bedroom and her lips were on me. She tasted like Heaven, a place I would never see and her hands were fisting my t-shirt. I pulled away so she could take it off and my mouth devoured her once again. Every stroke of her tongue, every moan I swallowed was like a shock to my dwindling lifeline. It was like I was suffocating and her kiss was keeping me alive. Her hands on my chest kept my heart beating and I needed more. Each progressive move of our consuming seduction took me one step closer to my revival. Skye fell to the bed with her hair fanned out across the sheets, her scent mixed with mine. She was like a drug and I needed hit after hit after hit. She was in, to the darkest depths of my being and she was taming the demons I’d been trying to control for years.

  As our clothes were removed, piece by piece, and our heat ignited into a raging wildfire, I took a minute to watch as she writhed for me. She clawed at me, trying to pull me closer and I wanted to marvel on it. For the first time in my life, I wanted to enjoy what was mine, if it was only mine for a minute.

  “You’re beautiful,” I breathed. “You know that?”

  “I thought I was cute,” she giggled in response.

  Cuteness was for friends and we were about to cross that line. My mind had crossed it weeks ago, when I first laid eyes on the Skillet, and it was time to allow reality to catch up.

  She moved beneath me and I almost lost it. Edging back, I took a deep, composing breath.

  “You are.” I kissed her neck, my tongue tasting her sweet intoxicating skin.

  “And adorable.” I moved between her breasts, the lace of her bra tickling my face. Her arousing scent made my head light.

  “And funny.” I slid down her body and kissed her stomach. It tensed and a little whimper escaped her.

  “And smart.”

  I couldn’t hold back; I had to feel her. She lifted her hips in a silent plea as I undid her shorts.

  “And sexy.”

  I pulled them down her legs and saw the wetness that soaked her underwear. My cock twitched in response but I ignored my body’s impatience and focused on Skye. I kissed every spot of skin that called to be tasted until my lips found hers, my hand slipped beneath her underwear and I eased a single finger inside her. She was hot and wet; a tight little pocket I needed to lose myself in.

  My mind fell first.

  I remembered telling her to get a condom and swelling to the point of pain when she stretched to get it; her nipples were hard rosy buds and little droplets of sweat began to form on her chest as she fought her body’s reaction. She squeezed my finger, gasped and softly mewled when I stroked the little nub that swelled against my fingertip. I rushed to get the condom on when she handed it to me and positioned myself above her.

  “Tell me you’ve done this before,” I asked.

  I wasn’t convinced I would stop if she hadn’t. I was a monster.

  “I’ve done it before.”

  She lifted her hips to me and as I sunk into her depths and she arched her back to pull me in deeper, she brought me back to life.

&n
bsp; Chapter Eleven

  I loved her. I loved her. I really fucking loved her. And that meant things were destined to fail.

  April 14th, 2003

  I was keeping things from Skye; things that I was now responsible for. There was no one else to protect her from the truth or expose it and be there to pick up the pieces afterwards. I told myself we were having fun and we were young and all those thoughts you’re supposed to have when you’re in love. Maybe it wasn’t love; maybe I just tried to convince myself we could save each other. Deep down I knew we couldn’t.

  I could feel the end coming. I lost a little more of my mind with every orgasm I gave her and every one I took from her, until I was so paranoid I couldn’t leave the gym with her.

  I could keep her safe in the gym. But I couldn’t keep her safe from me.

  I hadn’t so much looked at another woman since we first slept together. I know what I said about fucking to forget put a barrier between us, but I thought she got it. She was smarter than to fall in love with me. I was the only one who deserved to get hurt and I would take the pain for both of us. That’s why I fucked to forget; to forget that love, infatuation and obsession were very real emotions and would soon change the dynamics of a great relationship. I did it to forget that, in reality, I was lost, abandoned and alone, and had been for most of my life. I needed that moment between when the sparks fly and the earth starts moving again to feel like I deserved the pleasure.

  I thought Skye would call me out; I thought she’d see that we had more than sexual chemistry but she didn’t. She left the gym, unfazed by the idea of me taking someone else to the bed we slept in together almost every night.

  I sat on the sofa and stared through the TV, wondering what she was doing; if she was alone and frightened in the tower block that would never feel like home. Something was wrong; I could feel it in my bones. I decided to give Skye until 10pm to call me and if she didn’t, I was damn well going after her.