“Yeah, right. You’d have to be very special to get something like that outta me.”
I tried not to be offended by his comments, but really, they were quite insulting. Marshall shouldered the heavy, metal door open, and then held it for me. I walked in, feeling the draft immediately. It was no warmer inside than it was outside. I probably could have vomited a better location to train.
“This way,” Marshall said, walking through a dark doorway.
I tensed; my whole body was on full alert. The place was pitch black. I could barely see my hands in front of me. When I stepped further into the room, I lost sight of Marshall.
“Marshall?”
I sensed something come at me from behind. I spun around throwing my hands up to block whatever was coming straight down for my head. It rebounded off my wrists and swung at my side. I dodged it and flipped back. The – what was it? A baseball bat? − missed my face by inches. Relying purely on my senses, I ducked and sidestepped the attacks, my heart hammering. What the hell was going on?
Frustrated, I kicked the bat out of my attacker’s hand and then smashed my foot into their chest. Whoever it was had flown backwards, against the wall, flipping the light switch as they landed. Marshall?
“What the...?”
Marshall stepped forward, rubbing his chest. “Nice kick. I’m impressed.”
“I’m confused,” I said, folding my arms. Under the dull lighting from a single bulb in the center of the room, I was able to see exactly where we were. Against one wall was a table full of weapons. Next to it was a moveable punching bag. Leaning against the opposite wall was a crash mat. I gaped, thoroughly impressed.
“Like it?” Marshall asked, picking up the bat and putting it with the other weapons. “It took me all day. I’m not finished, but it should do for now.”
“It’s perfect,” I whispered. Then, I remembered that he attacked me. “What was all that about, by the way?”
“You’re not always going to see an attack coming, are you? I was testing your reflexes in the dark. Not bad.”
“Why is it even when you compliment me, I’m insulted?”
“Years of practice,” he answered. He picked up two fencing untipped swords off the table and threw me one. I caught it, mid-air. “Did your mum teach you how to fence?”
“Of course she did.”
“Good. Ready?”
“Can I tighten my laces first?”
His sword came at me, and I jumped back, tripping over my undone shoelace, and then fell flat on my back. I expected him to feel guilty and stop to help me to my feet, but he kept coming, swiping the sword at my face. I blocked at the last minute and rolled out of the way, finally able to jump to my feet.
“You fight dirty,” I hissed, blocking his sword with my own.
He swiped again. “The Damned don’t fight fair.”
“But you’re not a Damned,” I pointed out.
He didn’t answer. I shut up too. There was only the sound of our swords echoing through the room. I wasn’t sure when we were supposed to stop. Maybe I had to disarm him as I had with the bat. His words ran through my head. The Damned don’t fight fair. Then I wouldn’t fight fair, either.
I swung my rapier up, blocking his attack, and then dropped to a crouch, knocking his feet out from beneath him. He fell flat on his back, much as I’d done earlier, and without giving him a chance to right himself, I plunged the sword down towards his chest.
He winced as I stopped the rapier, the point barely touching his t-shirt. He reached up and swiped it away, smiling as if he’d just won.
“You’re pretty good. You fight better one on one. You need to learn how to fight multiple assailants.”
He held out his hand for my sword, and I passed it to him, still tense, unsure of what he had planned next. He dropped both swords on the table and slowly walked back towards me.
“Ready for some hand to hand combat?”
“I was born ready,” I said. Then I punched him.
We trained until it was past ten that night before I decided I truly needed to get home. My history essay wasn’t going to write itself. Dusty, hot, and sweaty, I grabbed my bag from the corner of the room and followed an equally sweaty Marshall back to the car.
As soon as I got in the car, I pulled the sun visor down and stared at my reflection in the little mirror. My cheeks were flushed, and my hair was a complete mess. I pulled the band out and retied it. Not that it made much difference.
“I’m glad to see last night didn’t scar you,” Marshall said, reversing away from the building.
“What d’you mean?”
“You drowned Amerie.”
I shrugged, not wanting to admit to the nightmares. “I’m fine. I had to lather, rinse, and repeat about a thousand times in the shower this morning. But apart from that, I’m alright.”
Marshall smirked, keeping his gaze fixed in front of him.
“What’s with the smirk?” I asked.
“Thinking about showering.”
I bit down on my lip, confused. “What’s so funny about a shower? You get in, you wash, and you get clean.”
“You also get naked,” he pointed out. “I’m imagining you naked right now. Don’t ruin the moment – it’s a good one.”
“Why are you so disgusting?”
He groaned. “You’ve ruined the moment. Thanks.”
Ignoring him, I turned to stare out of the window and changed the subject onto our sparring session; mainly, who had trained him in the first place (his mother). For the rest of the journey, we spoke about training tactics. At least, when we were talking about fighting moves, Marshall wasn’t being all pervy. Although, when he was being pervy, I wondered whether he actually meant what he said. Did he find me attractive? Or was he just being a pig-headed guy?
He pulled up outside of my house and shut off the engine. I pictured my bath waiting for me upstairs, and my whole body tingled in anticipation.
“Same time tomorrow?” Marshall asked.
“I’m not working tomorrow. So we can do earlier.”
“I’ll pick you up from school, then.”
I smiled. “You don’t have to do that...”
“I want to. It’s no problem. Not like I got a job to go to or anything.”
I grabbed my bag from the floor and pushed the car door open. “Okay, thanks. See you tomorrow then.”
“Wait,” he said as I made to climb out.
“Yeah?”
“Give me your phone number. Just in case I’m running late or something.”
I pulled my phone out of my bag, ignoring the three missed calls flashing on the front screen. I’d had this number for about a year now, and I still didn’t know it. I scrolled through my contacts until I found the name I’d put it under.
“Here.” I handed him the phone and waited for him to type it into his own. Then he typed his into mine and gave it back.
“Beware – I have your number now,” he said, grinning. “I might send you naughty pictures. Or better yet, you could send them to me.”
“In your dreams,” I said, getting out of the car.
“Always,” he called after me.
As soon as his car pulled away, I grinned. I was still smiling as I climbed the stairs to my house and unlocked the door. I went straight into my room, dumped my bag, and then headed across the hall to the bathroom. The door swung open just as I reached it, and a blonde woman appeared behind it with my fluffy, pink towel wrapped around her.
I screamed and so did she. Who the hell was this?
Then the morning’s conversation came flooding back to me. This had to be Cindy.
She laughed nervously and patted her slightly damp hair. “You must be Amerie. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She held out her other hand, which I ignored. “Oh, well, I’m Cindy. This was not the kind of first meeting I had in mind, but it is what it is.”
I narrowed my eyes. Had she picked that saying up from my dad, or had he picked it up from her? Igno
ring that she even existed, I stared into the bathroom and at the water draining from the bath. That bitch. Our water heater only allowed for one bath per night and two showers.
“Oh... Yeah, I had a bath,” she said, noticing my expression. “Your dad said that I could. And this was the only clean towel in there...”
“Dad!” I yelled.
He thundered up the stairs, slightly out of breath. “What is it, Amerie?” He spotted Cindy at the bathroom door, and his eyes widened. “Oh.”
“I wanted a bath,” I hissed.
“You’ll just have to have a shower,” Dad said, shooting me a pleading look, which I ignored.
“And what will I dry off with, Dad?”
He finally caught on. “I’ll have to stick it in the wash for you.”
“You don’t even know how to use a washing machine!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. “I don’t expect to come home, and not even be able to have a bath because she has used all the hot water and my damn towel.” I stormed into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. “And you’re buying me a new towel!”
I flopped down on my hard bed, straining my ears to pick up their conversation.
“That went better than I thought,” Dad admitted.
“It did?” Bitch Face, as I decided to call her, sounded shocked.
“She didn’t throw anything. Or punch a hole through the wall.”
Bitch Face giggled. “I’m sure they’ll get used to me. Come here and give me some lovin’, Mr. Carter.”
Ew, ew, ew! I grabbed my pillow and wrapped it around my head. This was not supposed to happen. My dad was not supposed to be serious about anyone but my mother. When I heard their footsteps move into my dad’s bedroom, I grabbed my phone out of my bag and dialled Mercy’s number.
“Amerie, it’s gone eleven.”
“You call me at all hours, Mercy. Let’s remember this.”
“Oh, yeah. So I do. What’s up?”
I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting to delete the image of Bitch Face in my towel forever. The worst thing was that she was somewhat pretty. Flawless skin, not a bad figure, from what I saw, and stupid, shiny teeth.
“Remember that girlfriend I told you my Dad had? Well, I just met her,” I explained.
“Oh my God! Is she old? Is she ugly? Is she fat? Does she smell like dog fart?”
I grinned despite my mood. This was why I called Mercy.
“She’s gross,” I lied. “And she used all the hot water up, so I couldn’t have my damn bath. But that’s not the worst of it.”
“How can it get any worse?” Mercy asked. “Unless you saw her naked.”
“Worse than that. We’re moving in with her.” I braced myself for Mercy’s reaction.
After a moment, while I presumed the shock was setting in, Mercy roared with laughter.
“You’re gonna have a step-mum!” She laughed again. “It’s gonna be like the film with Julia Roberts. I can see it now. At first, you’ll hate her, which you already do, and then she’ll win you over by taking you on set while she works like in the movie! Am I right? I am, aren’t I?”
“You’re so completely wrong I don’t know where to start.”
“We’ll see!” she sang. “Okay, but on a serious note, are you okay? It’s gotta be hard seeing a new woman in your dad’s life, even if you did kinda know about her.”
“It’s worse than hard. It’s Hell.”
“You shouldn’t joke about Hell if what you say you do is true.”
“It is true... and you’re right. I shouldn’t joke about it. I just...he shouldn’t be with her.”
“So who should he be with?”
“My mum,” I answered sullenly.
“Amerie...”
“Okay, I know it can’t ever happen, but I can’t stand to see this. It feels wrong. Like everything has just changed and I’m the only one who’s remained the same.”
“The same? You just told me that you’re like this superhero,” Mercy said playfully. “That’s a pretty big change.”
“Oh yeah. Fair point.”
“But look, Amerie, your dad deserves to be happy, right? Maybe this new woman is what he needs. You have me, Chuck, and even Sam. Who does he have? He can’t be alone forever, hon. So, just give them a chance. You might even like her. No one’s saying she’s gonna be the new Mummy Carter. She’s just...helping your dad out of a bad patch.”
I shut my eyes, letting Mercy’s words play over in my head. She was right, but that didn’t stop the betrayal from bruising my heart. “I’ll try to give her a chance.”
“Atta girl,” she said. “Hey, don’t you have a history essay to write?”
I slapped my forehead. “Ah damn! Okay, better go. I’ll ring you back if I have any other interactions with the step-monster.”
“Your life is like a TV sitcom. It’s highly amusing and then emotional two scenes later.”
“Goodbye, Mercy.”
“Night!”
I hung up and then climbed off my bed to take up my place at my desk. My computer was an old pensioner in comparison to the sleek iMac I’d had before. I pressed the power button and waited for it to load up, and then I bent down to grab my history textbook. Why did I have a feeling I’d be doing this essay for most of the night? At least it would keep me from having any graveyard compulsions. Always a plus.
Chapter Sixteen
Visiting Hours
The next morning, I decided to be a tiny bit late for school and go visit Sam in the hospital. It was another long bus journey, filled with people with questionable sanitary practices. In particular, the woman who sat next to me smelled like wet dog and pee.
When I got to the hospital, Sam was propped up in bed, a bag of grapes on his lap, shoved handfuls into his mouth as he watched his little TV. I smiled softly. He looked perfectly innocent and child-like wrapped up in his white bed sheets.
“You enjoying yourself there?” I asked, flopping down on the plastic armchair beside him.
His eyes widened as he turned to stare at me. “Amerie? What’re you doing here?” He switched off the TV and then shuffled in the bed to face me.
“I came to see you, of course,” I answered, shrugging out of my coat.
“Thanks. Means a lot.” He paused, looking down at his grapes. “I was worried about you. Mercy told me that you were fine but still. Mercy and Chuck said you went after the muggers after I hit my head.”
Muggers? I went with it. “Yeah, but they got away. Ah, don’t look at me like that!”
He groaned at me. “That was really reckless, Amerie. You coulda got yourself hurt.”
“I can look after myself. Promise.”
“Yeah I thought so too.”
I reached forward and grabbed his grape bag, helping myself. “Who got you these?”
I thought I saw him wince. “Sarah White.”
“Oh.”
“I heard everything is cool at school now.”
I went with his change of topic. “Unfortunately. So, when’re they setting you free?”
Sam smiled. “Tomorrow. Tests came back clear. I’m right as rain now.”
“Whatever that means.”
“Hmm.” Sam stared into space as if contemplating the definition. “I guess it means you’re normal?”
“And the definition of normal is?”
“Okay, okay. Yeah, I don’t know, but it’s a saying. I like sayings.”
A nurse stalked past, shooting us a warning glare. I lowered the volume of my voice.
“Can’t wait to see you back at school.”
“Well, I’ll be okay to go out tomorrow. Should we make plans?” He snatched the grapes back, smiling wickedly.
Just as I went to agree, Marshall’s face popped into my mind. What if he wanted us to train tomorrow? What if he had tactics about defeating Seal that we had to go over?
“We’ll see,” I answered. “I might be busy.”
“Busy?”
“Busy. But I’ll try and get away.
”
“Who might you be busy with? Mercy and Chuck said that they’re free.”
I patted his hand. “Just a friend...”
“What friend?”
I glanced up at the time on the wall. Yeah, I was gonna be extremely late to school now. I jumped up, grabbed another handful of grapes, and slipped on my coat.
“I’d love to sit and explain, Sam, but I got school. Call me tomorrow or text me when you’re back home. We’ll talk later. Oh, and I’m really, really glad you’re okay.”
“Thanks for visiting,” he said, somewhat sullenly. “I’ll text.”
I waved and strolled out of the ward, feeling a little more relaxed. He was fine – better than fine. Still joking around and eating grapes. My guilt was starting to subside all because Sam was still here to see another day, and I was going to keep it that way.
In school, I was anxious about my evening with Marshall. Would he stick by his word and be waiting in the car park for me? When the last bell rang, I practically ran to my locker to swap over my books, and when I slammed it shut, he was standing behind me.
“What are you doing here?” I growled, grabbing his arm and marching him towards the exit. As we went, every girl we passed shot him appreciative looks. Jealously burned at me.
“I came to get you,” he answered. “Or did you change your mind?”
“No, you’re supposed to wait in the car park. You stand out like a sore thumb.” I gestured to his jeans, Vans, and leather jacket. The rest of us, the ones who didn’t look like supermodels, were in plain school uniform.
Marshall stopped, and I jerked to a halt beside him. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I wanted to make sure everything was okay in here.”
“You seem to keep forgetting that I can look after myself.”
He edged forward, towering over me, and his hand reached up to cup the back of my neck. Was he about to kiss me? Here? In front of everyone? His head dipped, and I closed my eyes, waiting.
“You look incredibly sexy in your uniform. Like a naughty Catholic school girl.”
My eyes flew open in surprise. “Stop being creepy,” I said with a sigh. “Come on, before one of my teachers spots you.” He laughed and allowed me to drag him into the car park.
My Heart be Damned Page 13
