Текст книги "Beneath This Man"
Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Текущая страница: 28 (всего у книги 33 страниц)
‘Pause it.’ Jesse instructs shortly, walking over to the television, getting way up close to have a good inspection. His head starts nodding thoughtfully. ‘Keep it going.’
Jay continues the tape, and Jesse takes a few steps back. This is bad. I’m sat glued to the top step, running through the last time Jesse found out I’d seen Matt. I really don’t want a repeat of that. Why didn’t I foresee this? I watch myself jump down from the stool and crouch to gather my scattered possessions with Tom.
‘I need another angle.’ Jesse says.
‘There’s another camera.’ Jay answers swiftly.
‘Get me it. Did you see her talking to him?’
‘Ward, I do what I can, but if I’m called away to deal with some drunken twat or a few cat fighting girls, then I can’t watch her.’
I shake my head to myself. He’ll have a bodyguard flanking me next. This is ridiculous. ‘I don’t need someone watching me.’ I grate. I’m feeling mad.
Both of their heads swing around to me, Jay suddenly looking uneasy and Jesse looking stiff and agitated. There’s a few moments silence lingering between us. It’s uncomfortable, and I unconsciously wrap myself in my own arms as I sit, while Jesse scrutinises my every move.
‘Did you leave your drink unattended at any point?’ Jay asks.
The question shocks me. ‘No,’
‘When did you start feeling strange?’ Jesse pipes up, his arms folding across his chest.
‘I had a little stagger at the bar, but I put it down to my heels.’
‘Did you speak to anyone at the bar?’
Oh Fuck! Should I lie? I’ve seen Jesse’s reaction to a man coming on to me and it wasn’t pleasant. Shit shit shit! I glance nervously at Jesse. He knows what I’m deliberating.
He stares at me with dark, cautionary eyes, his torso rising and falling, his arms still over his chest. ‘Answer the question, Ava.’ he says, more calmly than I know he’s feeling.
‘There was a guy at the bar who offered to buy me a drink. I refused.’ I spit the words out quickly. It’s obvious I’m uncomfortable, but he’s going to find out for himself when he finishes watching the footage, so I may as well be upfront.
Jesse is displaying some sort of stun-gun reaction and my heart starts thundering in my chest.
I look down at my feet. ‘It was fine. I left the bar and returned to Kate.’ I try and brush it off before Jesse passes out.
‘Stop saying its fine!’ he yells.
I jump and reluctantly take a glimpse of him, finding bulging neck veins and a tense jaw. And then something catches my attention on the television and I look past Jesse. I shouldn’t have. I should have ignored it, and then maybe it would have passed before Jesse had a chance to see it. My blood turns to ice. At the bar is a tall, suited man. It’s too late to feign ignorance. Jesse swings back towards the flat screen to see what has caught my abrupt attention, as does Jay.
The silence is back as we all watch the man on the screen shift out of view when I get up to go to the bar. Then there’s the pumped up, ponytailed creep, getting way too close, me dropping my change and gathering it up before I’m staggering and making my way back to the table. Then the man comes back into view. I squint to try and focus better. Is it him? It certainly looks like it, but his text message said he was in Denmark.
I can see Jesse in my peripheral vision twitching, indicating he is having the exact same thoughts as me, but I’m watching the footage with complete fascination now, also aware of Jesse’s hard breathing, but too rapt by the television to look and confirm what I already know. He’ll be rampant.
Time is suddenly passing fast, but then Sam walks in and the motions slow down again as I get up from the table, leaving Sam drooling all over Kate. And then Jesse appears in the lower corner of the screen and I watch as I collapse, hitting the floor hard, the flurry of people gathering around my lifeless body blocking out my view.
No one says anything – for a long, uncomfortable time. I turn my eyes to Jesse and find him watching me. I’m not at all comfortable with the blackness in his eyes, and I can feel tears brimming in my own. Should I tell them about the text? Jesse looks sadistic already. Should I add to his obvious fury?
Jay coughs, pulling my attention back to him. ‘Have you seen enough?’ he asks.
‘Yes.’ Jesse answers without taking his eyes off me. It’s quite obvious now that Jesse turning up was probably the best thing that could have happened.
‘I’ll be off then.’ Jay gets up and retrieves the disc from the player. ‘I’ll see myself out.’
Jesse says nothing as Jay leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him.
I sit at the top of the stairs and drop my eyes to my feet. I’m in a slight trance. This really could have been so much worse. No doubt Jesse will have something to say about my lack of honesty with regards to Matt’s presence, but he can’t blame me. Why would I openly offer that information? I’m not completely stupid. Well, it would appear I am. I never gave CCTV footage a thought, and I certainly didn’t expect Jesse to start playing Inspector Poirot.
‘You didn’t mention Matt before.’ Jesse’s calm tone doesn’t fool me, and why has he homed in on that instead of the more important issue at hand…the tall suited man at the bar. I know he thinks it’s him too.
My shoulders rise anxiously, but I don’t look up; I already know he’s angry. I don’t need visual confirmation, and I should think it’s pretty obvious why I didn’t mention Matt. ‘I didn’t want to upset you.’
‘Upset me?’ His voice is high with surprise.
‘Okay, I didn’t want to piss you off.’ I look up at him and find a completely impassive expression. I’m surprised; I was expecting boiling mad. ‘It was a chance meeting.’
‘But you had a few minutes conversation. What did you talk about?’
‘He apologised.’
‘And that took a few minutes?’ His eyebrows are raised. He’s right, an apology doesn’t even take two seconds, but I can’t remember every detail of the conversation. ‘I told you not to see him again.’
I gape at him. ‘Jesse, I didn’t plan on it. I told you, it was only by chance.’ What did he want me to do? Walk out of the bar? ‘I wanted to know how he knows about you.’
‘Do you care?’ He’s reining in his temper. I can see it.
‘No, I don’t.’
His teeth start working his bottom lip as he watches me. I feel guilty and I don’t know why. I’ve done nothing wrong. He’s not shouting at me, but he’s clearly not happy. What am I supposed to do? I know he’s thinking exactly what I’m thinking about Mikael, but he can’t possibly be mad at me about that because I didn’t even know he was there – if it was even him. Was it him?
‘Then leave it.’ He starts across the open space of the penthouse and up the stairs. ‘I’m going for a shower.’ He walks straight past me, leaving me stunned by his calm façade. I think I would rather have him blow his top. At least then I would know where I am. What now?
I haul myself up from the step and make my way towards the bedroom. I can’t stand this middle ground. I need to establish exactly what is going on in that complex mind of his. I know he’s mad, so why is he holding back on his temper. It’s not pleasant, but I would rather him rage a bit and clear the air. I feel like I’m hovering over a detonate button.
I walk into the bedroom and hear the shower, so I pad across the room to the bathroom, finding him under the spray. Even now, I’m drawn to the mass of beauty that stands before me, quaking with anger. It’s potent, but he’s not letting rip.
‘Will you please just rant at me and have it over with.’ I sit myself on the vanity unit and put my hands in my lap. I notice for the first time since I woke up that my engagement ring is missing. Did he take it off? The thought is like a stake through my heart. I don’t like this, not one little bit.
He doesn’t say a word. He carries on soaping himself down before stepping out and grabbing a towel to dry himself off. He leaves me sat exactly where I am, my eyes darting around the bathroom, uncertainty plaguing me. I lower myself down and walk nervously back into the bedroom.
‘Jesse?’
He completely ignores me and goes into the wardrobe, appearing a few moments later in some faded jeans. His jaw is ticking constantly and I can see it’s taking his every effort to hold onto his emotions. I never thought I would want him to fly off the handle. And where is he going, anyway?
He pulls a grey t-shirt over his head and makes his way back into the bathroom while I stand in the middle of the room, wondering what the hell to do. I follow him again and find him brushing his teeth. His eyes flick to mine in the mirror. I feel anxious…uncomfortable.
‘Please speak to me.’ I plead. I can’t stand this.
He finishes brushing his teeth and splashes his face with water, before bracing himself on the edge of the vanity unit and taking a few deep breaths. I prepare myself for the storm, but it doesn’t come. He walks straight past me and into the bedroom.
I follow like a desperate soul. ‘Where are you going?’ I ask his back, as he makes his way to the door.
He stops and it’s a few moments before he turns dark, troubled eyes on me. ‘I need to sort some things out at The Manor.’ His voice is devoid of any emotion where as I’m close to wailing. I’m petrified.
‘I thought we were doing something this evening.’ I remind him desperately.
‘Something came up.’ he mutters and turns to leave. That something is, without a doubt, me. He’s going to drink.
‘You’re mad with me.’ I cry frantically. I don’t want him to go. He would usually insist on me going and I would fight him on it, but now I want to go with him.
He shakes his head and lets it fall slightly, but he doesn’t face me. I need to see his face. He walks out of the bedroom and I collapse to the floor and cry. I feel helpless and incomplete. All of this pain because I wanted to have the final say, all of this because I insisted on going out and proving a point. The only point I’ve proved is that I’m at a loss without him.
I drag myself up and across the room, collapsing onto the bed and finding my way to the place that smells the most of him. It’s a meager substitute for the real thing. Only he can make this better, make all of this go away. And worst of all, I know where he has gone, who will be there and what he’ll be doing. What am I supposed to do? I’m a mess, my face feels swollen and stingy with tears and my head hurts from too many disturbing thoughts. Will he crack open a bottle of vodka? I know that if he does, I won’t be seeing him anytime soon – not when he’s like that. I would rather not have him at all than have the hollow beast that is Jesse with a few bottles of vodka inside him. I never want to see that man again.
I sit up on the bed, suddenly remembering something. He’s not here, and I am…and I’m alone. I jump up and run into the bathroom, flinging open the cosmetics unit and staring at the masses of bottles, boxes and tubes. Starting my search, I shift the contents of the unit to the side, my shaking hands doing me no favours in executing the operation without knocking bottles over. A frustrated yell slips from my mouth, and in a temper, I sweep my hand through all of the shelves, knocking bottles flying all over the bathroom floor.
What am I thinking? He’s not stupid enough to hide them in such an obvious place. I leave the bathroom and run into the wardrobe, shoving my hands into every pocket of his suit jackets, inside and out, tipping his shoes upside down and searching through piles of neatly folded t-shirts. Nothing, but I’m not giving up. My pills are mysteriously disappearing and they have been since I met this man, and the first time was only a few days after I relented to his advances. What’s he playing at? He can’t want to get me pregnant, surely? If he does, he may very well get his way too. I can’t believe this.
I drop myself to the floor of the wardrobe, wiping my still streaming tears away. Is he trying to trap me? I proceed to hunt through his jean pockets, tossing them all over the wardrobe in a frenzy when I find nothing. The gold satin gift bag slips out as I yank a suit jacket down from a hanger, the contents spilling onto the floor.
Condoms.
We don’t need those.
He is trying to get me pregnant. Fucking hell!
I scramble up and fly down the stairs into his office, pulling out every drawer, sifting through rows of books and even looking behind the sodding pictures on the walls. Still nothing.
I fly around the penthouse like a madwoman, searching every drawer, cupboard, anywhere he could possibly hide them, but an hour later, still no pills. But I’ve made a massive mess. I halt when I hear my phone ringing in the distance and I track the sound until it cuts off and I’m stood in the massive open space, looking around desperately.
‘Fuck!’ I curse to myself, but then the text message tone starts bleeping and I follow it to the armchair where I found Jesse sitting earlier. I grope down the side and find my phone. The missed call is from my Mum. Oh God, has Dan been on to her already? I really cannot be talking to her now, a really uncharitable thought, but I don’t even know where I am myself to be able to tell her. My heart sinks when I see the text is from John.
He’s fine, but you should probably come.
My heart lifts a little at the first part of the message, and then sinks just as quickly. I should probably go? Is John playing tug of war with Jesse and a bottle of vodka? I fly up the stairs and run into the bathroom to scrub my face and attempt to generally sort myself out. It’s no good, I look like I’ve been wailing and no amount of make-up or washing will sort my glazed eyes out. After retrieving my keys, I make a hasty run for my car, ignoring Clive as he calls after me.
Chapter 30
The drive to The Manor is a blur of visions and memories. Visions of Jesse staggering and slurring, and memories of finding him unconscious on the terrace, all unwelcome, but a repeat performance highly likely. I can’t go through that again. I can’t watch him do that to himself again – not because of me. I might not be able to control his unreasonableness, but I can prevent him from slowly killing himself.
I’m not surprised when I pull up to the gates and they open immediately. John must be looking out for me. My descent up the driveway is fast and frantic in my desperation to get to him and stop the inevitable. I find The Manor’s door open and run through the entrance hall, ignoring the noise coming from the bar and restaurant. The summer room has been returned to its former relaxing space of sofas and chairs scattered across the vast area, members gathered, chatting and drinking. Silence falls, all conversation halting, when I run through. I’m sure if I paid attention, there would be many vicious, scowling faces pointed straight at me, but I don’t have the time or inclination to stop and soak up the resentment. I don’t need to look. I can feel it heavy in the air.
As I approach the door to Jesse’s office, I hear a thundering crack that makes me jump. What the fuck was that? I hold the door handle and look behind me, but find the corridor empty. I turn the handle of the door and push it open.
‘Ava!’ Big John’s loud rumble travels down the corridor, halting my progression, but I can’t see him. ‘Fucking, mother fucker! Ava, wait!’ He appears, moving faster than I would think possible for such a mountain of a man, his glasses in place as he hurdles towards me like a steam train. ‘Jesus, woman, don’t go in there!’
I look at the frantic beast rocketing towards me in slow motion and jump at the sound of another ear piercing snap. It pulls my attention from John’s booming voice and towards Jesse’s office. What is that? I push the door open a little further until the full room comes into view.
Oh Jesus Christ!
I stagger forward on a loss of a few dozen beats of my heart. What the fucking hell is going on?
‘No!’ John crashes into me and grasps me around my waist. ‘Ava, girl, you can’t go in there.’
I lose all feeling as I stare at the hideousness before me and then fight with the incredible strength of John, who’s trying to haul me out of the room. I don’t know how, adrenaline perhaps, but I break free from John and fall into the room as Sarah raises the evil looking whip that she’s holding and brings it thrashing down on Jesse’s back. My stomach jumps into my throat, and I feel John’s warm palm wrap around the top of my arm.
‘Ava, darling,’ John’s voice is the softest I’ve ever heard it. ‘You don’t need to see this.’
I shrug him off and stand trying to piece together the scene unfolding before me. It’s hard, even though time has slowed and every tiny detail is perfectly clear to me. He’s naked, except for his jeans, and kneeling on the floor, his head dropped limply. He hasn’t even looked up. Sarah is standing behind him, kitted out in black leather trousers, a leather bodice and a thigh high leather boots, looking as evil as the whip in her hand.
I can’t move. I’m completely rooted to the spot. My legs are shaking, my heart beating so fast it might escape my chest, and I can’t open my mouth. What is happening?
Sarah glances up at me, a look of deep satisfaction on her face as she slowly raises the whip again. I want to scream, tell her to stop, but my mouth is dry and not responding to my brains commands. Her pouty face screams pleasure at subjecting Jesse to this wicked torture and, no doubt, having me here to bear witness to it.
She brings the whip crashing down on Jesse’s bare flesh again, and he arches his back, throwing his head back, but he doesn’t make a sound.
The loud scream echoing around the room is me.
His head snaps up as my cry seeps into his ears. I’m struggling against John again, who has regained his hold on me. ‘Let go of me!’ I fight harder, twisting my body in his grip, clawing and hitting him.
‘Ava?’ Jesse’s voice stills me. It’s weak and broken as his head turns in my direction.
A desperate cry escapes my mouth as our eyes meet and all I find are empty glazed holes. He doesn’t look completely with it. He looks drugged and hollow. He makes to stand but staggers forward slightly in complete disorientation. My eyes fall onto his back, finding at least ten angry welts spread from one side of his back to the other, overlapping and seeping with beads of blood.
I feel sick. My stomach starts to heave and as Sarah raises the whip again, I hear John in the distance bellowing her name. My knees give out and I crumble to the floor at John’s feet.
‘Ava?’ Jesse makes it to a standing position, but he is nowhere near stable. He shakes his head as if trying to regain his focus, his confused face becoming stricken as he registers my presence. ‘Jesus, no!’ Fear floods his handsome features. Even his voice is unstable. He goes to walk forward, but he’s stopped by Sarah, who’s grabbing at his arm. ‘Get the fuck off me!’ he roars, knocking her backwards. ‘Ava, baby. What are you doing here?’ He rushes forward and drops to his knees in front of me, grabbing at my face and searching for my eyes.
He’s a complete blur through my tears. I can’t speak. I’m just shaking my head frantically, trying to rid my brain of what I have just witnessed. Is this a nightmare? He wasn’t fighting her off at all. He knelt there waiting for the blows in a total trance. I throw my arms out to bat him away from me and scramble to my feet.
‘Ava, please!’ he pleads, as I push his grabbing hands from me. I need to get out of here.
I turn, knocking John out of the way, and run in blind shock down the corridor, emerging into the massive summer room. As I hurry through, I’m vaguely aware of shocked gasps, and I turn to see Jesse and John in pursuit of me. I slap my hand over my mouth as I feel the bile rising in my throat. Oh God, I’m going to throw up.
I hurtle through the toilet door and into a cubicle, slamming the door behind me. I just make it over the bowl and then proceed to evacuate the contents of my stomach on loud, painful retches, my face wet with sweat and tears. I’m in the lowest level of hell and once again, trapped in a fucking cubicle with nowhere to go.
The sound of the toilet door crashing into the tiled wall rings out around the ladies’ washroom. ‘Ava!’ He bangs on the door behind me, and I sink to my bum as I feel another round of violent heaves coming on. ‘Ava! Open the door!’
I can’t answer him through my persistent retching, even if I wanted to. What the hell am I supposed to say? I’ve just watched him accept a thrashing from a woman I despise – a woman who I know wants Jesse and hates me. My imagination doesn’t stretch to this kind of callousness. I throw up again and fumble for some toilet paper to wipe my mouth as the door continues to bang behind me.
‘Please,’ he begs, and a dull thud meets the door. I know it’s his forehead. ‘Ava, please, open the door.’
My tears gather force again at the sound of him begging. I can’t possibly look into the eyes of the man I love knowing he has done this to himself.
‘Who let her in?’ His tone has turned fierce, and he punches the door. ‘Fuck! Who the fucking hell let her in?’
‘Jesse, I didn’t let her in. I would never have let her in.’ John’s low hum is soothing. I want to jump to his defense. He didn’t let me in. John’s fretful voice, his attempts to stop me from entering Jesse’s office, it all brings me to one conclusion. He didn’t text me. He didn’t open the gates. She’s done it again. My strong, dominate man having himself beaten? I’ve underestimated her hatred of me. I’ve trodden on some really fancy, red polished toes. She has more than succeeded in her attempts to shock me, but all of this doesn’t detract from the fact that Jesse was actively, willingly, partaking in the appalling activity. Why?
‘What’s going on?’ The familiar sound of Kate’s voice gives me hope of escaping this horror scene. ‘Fuck! Jesse, what the hell has happened to your back?’
‘Nothing!’ he snaps.
‘Don’t fucking talk to me like that. Where’s Ava? What the hell is going on? Ava?’ She calls my name, and I’m desperate to answer her, but I know if I open the door, Jesse will be in. I can’t see him.
‘She’s in there. She won’t come out. Ava?’ he calls. ‘Please, Kate, get her out.’ He bangs the door again. He sounds desperate and frantic.
‘Hey! Tell me why she is locked in there and why you’re out here bleeding all over the place?’ Kate’s voice is fierce.
‘Ava walked in on something she shouldn’t have seen. She’s freaked out. I need to see her.’ His talking is strained through his heavy breathing.
I want to scream exactly why I’ve freaked out, but I’m attacked by another succession of retches, rendering me incapable of uttering any words.
‘If you’ve fucked her over, Jesse!’ Kate shouts. ‘Ava?’
He’s fucked me over all right, but not in the way she is thinking. It’s almost worse. It is worse.
‘No!’ Jesse’s voice is full of defense. ‘It’s not like that!’
‘Well, what is it like then? She’s in there throwing up. Ava?’ The subtle knock of Kate’s fist starts drumming on the door. ‘Ava, come on. Open the door.’
‘Ava!’ Jesse shouts frantically.
‘Jesse, just go.’ Kate yells.
‘No!’
‘She’s obviously not going to come out with you here. Hey, big guy. Get him out of here.’
‘Jesse?’ John rumbles, and I pray that Jesse listens to him and leaves. I’m not going anywhere with him out there. ‘Let’s get you sorted out, you stupid mother fucker.’
I sit with my head in my hands while I listen to the back and forth coaxing of Jesse from the bathroom.
I eventually hear the door open and close again and then Kate’s subtle knocking on the door. ‘Ava, he’s gone.’ Kate assures me through the door. I lift up and slide the lock across to let my friend into the toilet with me. She pushes through the small gap and screws her nose up at the sight of the vomit spattered bowl. ‘What the hell is going on?’ She crouches on the other side of the cubicle so we’re knee to knee.
I sniffle and blow my nose on some tissue. My mouth tastes dreadful. I take a few controlled breaths through my sobs and try to steady my vocal cords. ‘He had himself whipped.’ I manage. The sound of them words has my chucking my head back over the bowl, but all I’m achieving is choking myself on dry heaves. I feel Kate’s palm rubbing at my back.
‘He what?’
I push myself away from the toilet and find Kate’s jaw dropped disbelievingly. Who would believe it? But she saw the evidence plain and clear and plastered all over Jesse’s back. ‘I walked in on him being whipped by Sarah.’
Her eyes widen. ‘Sarah the mega bitch?’ she splutters.
‘Yes.’ I nod in case the word didn’t make it out of my mouth. ‘He was on his knees, Kate, like some sort of submissive slave.’ My tears start again and my mind is invaded with the horrible memory of my strong, self-assured man being willingly beaten. Why would he do that?
‘Oh, fuck.’ She rests her hand on my knee. ‘Ava, his back is a mess.’
‘I know!’ I cry. ‘I saw it!’ That was no kinky kicks. There no pleasure element in it. Not on Jesse’s part, anyway. Sarah could be a different story, though. Jesse wanted to be hurt. My stomach convulses. ‘Kate, I need to leave. He won’t let me. I know he won’t let me go.’
A look of determination invades her pretty, pale features and she rises to her feet. ‘Wait here.’
‘Where are you going?’ My voice sounds panicky. He’ll barrel back in here as soon as Kate exits. I know he will.
‘John’s taken Jesse to his office. I’m just going to check, though.’ She opens the door and shuffles past my slumped body.
I hold my breath, waiting for a commotion, but it doesn’t come. The door opens and closes, and then there is silence. I’m alone. I stand myself up, my legs weak and shaky, and pull some toilet roll off to wipe around the seat. I hold my hand over my mouth as I generally clean up my mess, all the time more violent heaves threatening.
The toilet door opens. I freeze, holding my breath.
‘Ava?’ Kate whispers, tapping the door gently. ‘Jesse’s in his office with John. Sam will get the gates.’
I open the door and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror before I’m pulled out of the toilet cubicle and yanked towards the door. I look God awful. ‘Wait, I need some water.’ I shake Kate off and take myself to the sink, leaning over to splash my face and swill my mouth.
‘Here, have some gum.’ Kate shoves a stick in my mouth.
I’m now weighing up the merits of alcohol. Would I have preferred to find him drunk? Yes, without a doubt, I would have faced that merciful creature rather than witness him being beaten. He really is self-destructive. Grief turns into anger as I consider his reactions to a few bruises on my backside when I took a trip in Margo senior, and his face when he clocked my bruised arm after my run-in with Mr Baldy Jag – how over-the-top he was.
Before I have a chance to declare my intentions of tracking Jesse down and demanding some answers, he comes barging back into the toilets in a blind panic. I notice his eyes have cleared of the glaze as they land on me, his chest damp, his dirty blonde hair dark with sweat. I can feel Kate’s eyes passing between us as she assesses the situation.
He starts towards me and I make no attempt to stop him from doing what I know he’s going to do. He leans down, scoops me up into his arms and strides out of the toilets towards his office. He keeps his line of sight firmly forward as he walks with purpose, back through the summer room under the watchful eyes of some members, who are still floating around soaking up the spectacle. I’m aware of whispers and pointing as tears invade my eyes and start trailing down my cheeks. I’m in absolute agony, I feel sick to the stomach and my heart feels like it’s been sliced straight down the centre.
He kicks the door of his office shut and walks straight to the couch, lowering himself down on a wince. My stomach turns. His arms immerse me and his head falls straight into my neck. He is silent, holding me as close as he can get me, while I try and control myself, try to prevent the shakes that are attacking my body, but it’s not a battle I can win. My beautiful man has deep issues and just when I thought I was figuring him out, I’m hit with the worst kind of wake up call. I don’t know him at all and I certainly don’t understand him.
‘Please don’t cry.’ His muffled voice reaches my ringing ears. ‘It kills me.’
‘Why?’ I ask. It’s the only thing I can think to ask. It’s all I want to know. Why would he do this to himself?
‘I promised you I wouldn’t have a drink.’
What?
He got himself beaten rather than have a drink because he promised me he wouldn’t? Just when I thought I couldn’t be more stunned. ‘You wanted a drink?’
‘I wanted to block it out.’
‘Look at me.’ I demand, but he makes no attempt to lift his head from its secluded location. ‘Damn it, Jesse, look at me!’ I wriggle to try and get a grip of his head and pull it up, but he hisses in pain and I still immediately. ‘Three.’ I say calmly. I can’t believe I’m giving him the countdown, but I don’t know what else to do. I feel him tense under me, but he still doesn’t look. ‘Two.’
‘What happens on zero?’ he asks quietly.
‘I leave.’ I say calmly.
His head flies up and I whimper at the sight of him, his green eyes clouded, pain spilling out of them, his chin trembling. He gazes straight into my eyes. They are pleading silently to me. ‘Please, don’t.’
Any ounce of strength that was keeping me marginally together is shredded at the sight and sound of him. I fall apart completely as I clasp his face in my hands and put my lips on him, but I’m not close enough. I gingerly shift so that I’m astride his lap, and then pull him as close as I can get him, without hurting him. ‘Tell me what you were blocking out.’
‘Hurting you.’
‘I don’t understand.’ I’m beyond confused. Doesn’t he think that this is hurting me? ‘I would rather you had a drink.’
‘You wouldn’t.’ He says it on a slight laugh that sends a nervous twinge through me.
I pull back and search his eyes out. ‘I would rather face you with half a vodka distillery inside you than see what I just saw.’
He drops his head in shame. ‘Trust me Ava, you wouldn’t.’
