Текст книги "Collision"

Автор книги: K. A. Sterritt

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter Twelve

Juliette

He touched me. Leo touched me. The fighting god with the icy stare and the rock-hard body I wanted to run my hands down and do all kinds of naughty things to, touched me. We both felt it. I would have bet my ticket to fight night on it. Was he the reason I’d felt so drawn to this house? Why did we keep running into each other? I didn’t believe in coincidence. I believed in fate.

The crushing pressures imposed on me by my mother were pushed to the furthermost parts of my mind.

I wasn’t lying about my love of the garden. It was overgrown and more like a jungle than a garden, but it had a tangible beauty, just like the house. Despite its neglect, I could still see that someone had gone to a lot of trouble establishing it. It just needed a lot of love. Seeing the garden also gave me an excuse to stay there longer—stay with him longer. I wanted to be there for as long as possible.

He gestured for me to exit the room ahead of him.

Standing at the top of the staircase, I examined my manicured nails and smooth hands. “I used to spend lots of time in my grandmother’s garden when I was young. I loved getting my hands dirty.” I paused. “I miss it.”

I looked up to find Leo studying me. When he realised I was staring back, he smiled, and I placed my hand on the bannister to steady myself. This man made me weak at the knees. It wasn’t just his hard-to-fathom good looks, bad-boy edge or ability to crush men with his bare hands. There was something deeply calming about being in his presence. He didn’t say anything further. He just bit his bottom lip and ran his hands through his hair. He was so sexy; I found it incredibly distracting.

We walked down the stairs in silence, a delicious tension hanging in the air between us. At the bottom, instead of going straight ahead towards the front door, Leo led me around to the left and down the hallway. I tried to look everywhere at once—double-height ceilings, exposed stone walls I was compelled to touch, the occasional spider web and a definite lack of any touches making it a home. I was looking at the bare bones of a house, built when time, skill and care were taken to ensure a quality rarely seen in more contemporary homes.

As Leo led me further down the hallway, I stopped outside an open door. Leo stopped too. I couldn’t resist poking my head through the doorway and taking a tentative step in for a quick look. It was the room I’d peered into when I dirtied my dress—I recognised the furniture.

“It’s a beautiful room,” I whispered. Despite the dusty furniture and the grimy windows not allowing the natural light in, it was still a beautiful room. Much larger than in contemporary homes, the room was given a focal point by a cast-iron fireplace with a slate hearth. Despite the size of the room and the high, decorative ceilings, I had visions of a warm and cosy lounge room where I could relax with a good book on cold winter evenings.

“It was.”

He was standing right behind me and the words sounded like breaths, kissing the air that separated us. I turned slowly, and what I saw in his eyes was pain. Deep, cutting, agonising pain. I could not only see the tension in his tight shoulders, but I could feel it rolling off him. There was something really off about this beautiful man in this beautiful house. I just didn’t know what it was. What I did know was that I had to get us out of that room and out of that house to diffuse the tension, so I stepped past him back into the hallway.

“Take me to the jungle, Tarzan.” God, did I just say that?

Leo’s shoulders dropped slightly, and I heard a quiet chuckle as he shook his head. Then he turned to face me. After a few quiet seconds of what felt like him studying me again, he spoke. “Come on, then, Jane of the Jungle.” The pain in his eyes had dissipated and the joy that gave me was confronting.

“Jules of the Jungle,” I corrected.

“Jules,” he repeated, reverently, as he moved past me and started to walk slowly towards the back of the house.

I followed, admiring his broad shoulders and powerful physique. My eyes travelled south down his back and over his backside. I scolded myself for the dirty thoughts I had of my manicured fingernails digging in, pulling him deeper. Further south. His calves were a finely tuned mass of muscle I longed to see put to work again at the next fight night. In my lust-driven perusal of his body, I almost bumped right into it.

He didn’t turn around—he was just standing motionless in the doorway to what I realised was the kitchen. The tension I’d seen in the lounge room had returned tenfold. There seemed to be a mild tremor starting in his hands now balled into fists. What the hell was going on? I wondered.

Gingerly, I took a step closer to him and lightly touched his shoulder, hoping to help a situation I couldn’t comprehend. In what felt like an instinctual move of a seasoned fighter, he whipped around and grabbed my hand, his strength crushing me. I cried out in pain both from the shock of being so easily overpowered as well as the sensation that he’d really done me some damage. When he dropped my hand, I fell to my knees, cradling my throbbing hand. I looked up at into crazed, wide eyes. When they met mine, he seemed to snap out of his stupor.

“Oh my God, Jules. What have I done?” He crouched down in front of me and cautiously held both my hands in his. His touch was so gentle it was hard to believe he was the same man who’d just turned on me. “I’m so sorry.”

I managed to fight back the threatening tears as the throbbing subsided. “It’s fine. Honestly, I’m fine.” I pulled away, but he took hold of my non-damaged hand and helped me up, not letting go.

“God, Jules. I could’ve broken your hand. I’m so sorry.” His eyes were filled with fear and self-loathing.

“You’ll have to try harder than that to break me. I think my self-defence needs some work.” I tried to lighten the mood again, but it didn’t work this time.

His eyes darkened. He dropped my hand and ran his through his hair. “You shouldn’t need self-defence around me.”

“Look, Leo. You clearly don’t want anyone in here for whatever reason, and that is your choice. You told me that when we were upstairs and kindly offered me a tour of the garden. I shouldn’t have been so nosy coming in here without permission. Your body language is screaming loud and clear that you don’t want me here, so let’s just go outside and forget about all this. Okay?”

“I’ll never forget hurting you. Never.” He reached for my hurt hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it lightly. “Never, ever.”

“I think I need to see the garden now,” I croaked, not even sure if I could still find my voice. Leo’s lips touching my skin had sent my whole body into a spin. What would it be like if they kissed my lips? There was something really dangerous about this man—dangerous, exciting, sexy and liberating. But I wouldn’t actually cheat, and something told me Leo wouldn’t either. He had a quiet integrity about him that made him even more attractive. When I was with Leo, I felt like I was in the presence of a real man—the kind of man I wanted to be with. Knowing that was impossible hurt more than the physical pain Leo had caused only minutes earlier.

I was in big trouble, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to ruffle some feathers. I wasn’t looking for the path of least resistance. I should’ve been running away from the man who was making me question all my choices so violently. I should’ve been running from that house that made me feel so alive. Instead, I stepped out into the garden, the cool air making me shiver, and I allowed myself to imagine it was mine. He was mine.

Leo loosened up a bit once we were outside, but he would occasionally throw me a glance, riddled with angst. I wished he could just forget what had happened inside. I knew he was physically dominant and capable of hurting me far greater, but I also believed it was a one-off and had something to do with being in that house. I knew he was mortified and his overreaction to my touch was based on something in his past. I didn’t for a second blame him or feel threatened. Perhaps I was naïve, given the fact I barely knew him. Perhaps it was the masochist in me who revelled in danger. Perhaps it was the connection I felt to him every time he looked in my eyes and I felt like I was being seen for the first time. Perhaps I was losing my mind in the heady combination of everything the last few days had thrown at me.

A million thoughts flooded my brain. I knew I had to leave that house, that garden and that man, and I had to leave soon. I couldn’t organise all my thoughts, and I felt panic-stricken. Overcome by what felt like a supercharged shot of adrenaline, I bent over and put my hands on my knees, trying to draw air into my lungs. My heart was fluttering too fast, as if I’d had too much caffeine. My palms felt sweaty and I couldn’t swallow past the choking lump in my throat. The garden looked foreign and my mind couldn’t reconcile what I was doing there. I was losing control.

Chapter Thirteen

Leo

“Juliette. Are you okay?”

I had walked ahead of her into the garden, eager to get out of that damned house, eager to escape. I’d hurt her. Regardless of my primal desire to protect her, I had turned on her in an instant and crushed her perfect little hand. I stood there staring at the overgrown hedges and the tangled mess of wisteria and wondered if she would really forgive me—if I would forgive myself. I turned around to see her bent over, struggling to draw breath, and immediately rushed to help her.

“I. Can’t. Breathe.” She could barely get the words out.

“You can get through this, Jules.” I’d seen panic attacks many times and I knew what to do.

“I. Just. Want. To. Breathe.”

“Relax. Just listen to my voice, okay? I’m going to count to ten.”

As I counted, I could see her breathing slow down and her body uncoil. God, she was so beautiful. She was strong and brave one minute then a vulnerable, hot mess the next. Apologising one minute then throwing sass the next. I’d never known a girl with so many layers of beauty and torment, but it felt like my soul had recognised its mate in Juliette’s.

“I think it’s time I went home. I shouldn’t have come here.” Her whisper snapped me out of my thoughts.

I’d convinced her to sit down in the shade under the large magnolia tree for ten minutes to ensure her breathing had completely returned to normal. We didn’t speak in that time. We just sat in silence.

“I’ll drive you home in your car. I can get the train back for my car tomorrow. I don’t think you should drive.”

She contemplated my offer for a few seconds before nodding her acceptance. Another hour with her was the added bonus to my peace of mind.

I drove Juliette home to her apartment in the city. We barely spoke, but for some reason I knew her thoughts were as loud as mine. I parked the car and walked her to the lift in the lobby, feeling like it was the end of a first date when you don’t quite know what to do. She pressed the call button on the lift then bit her lip, unable to look me in the eye. I wanted to bite her lip and I wanted her to invite me up. But I also wanted her to be single. She had enough shit going on in her life and quite frankly, so did I.

“Why did you go into my house?” I suddenly had to know.

Her eyes snapped to mine and they conveyed so many things, yet I understood nothing. “I didn’t know it was your house.”

I cocked my head. “That wasn’t my question.”

Her smile warmed my heart, and I knew I needed to be responsible for many more of them. “I don’t really know. I felt drawn to it somehow. Maybe I’m the stalker.”

We both smiled. I really liked this girl, whoever she was.

“Thank you, Leo. And thank you for the lift.” She clenched her teeth and scrunched her nose. “I’m sorry I’ve inconvenienced you.”

“It’s no bother.”

I touched her arm briefly, and I could’ve sworn her body shivered. “Well, I guess I’ll see you round, then?”

“No doubt we’ll run into each other.”

The lift door opened and she walked in and turned around to face me. Our eyes locked for the last few seconds before the heavy grey doors closed, stealing her away from me.

I turned but only made it halfway across the lobby before the blood in my veins went cold—I was now face-to-face with Isabel Fontaine. She was a little intimidating when bossing her staff around, but at that moment she looked more like the mythical creature Medusa with snakes for hair, turning everyone to stone.

“What are you doing here?” she hissed.

The cogs in my brain turned too slowly to make up a believable lie on the spot. I wasn’t much of a liar anyway, and I’d done nothing wrong. “I just dropped Juliette home.”

“And why, pray tell, would you be doing anything with my daughter?”

“She had a panic attack, and I drove her home in her car as I didn’t think she should be driving. I’m going home now.”

She was silent for a minute, probably deciding whether I was telling the truth. I’d left out a few details, but I hadn’t lied.

“Okay. Well, I’d rather you stayed away from her. I can’t have my friends seeing her with my staff. People talk, if you know what I mean, and she’s with Richard.”

“I’m aware of her status, Mrs Fontaine.”

“Juliette is unstable. She needs what Richard can give her and she needs to focus on securing him.”

I just stood there listening to the biggest load of crap I thought I’d ever heard. Juliette was dealing with a psycho mother and a dickhead who didn’t deserve to breathe the same air as her. My blood had gone from cold to hot and was reaching boiling point when she continued.

“I saw the way she was looking at you last night and it was highly inappropriate. She needs to focus on the prize. You are a distraction.”

And the prize would be… Richard? I wondered to myself. Richard was a prize douchebag.

“I just dropped her home. No big deal.”

“Look. Richard plans to propose soon. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I mean, what she’s always wanted.” It now appeared she was talking to herself, despite addressing me, mumbling almost incoherently. “We’re so close. Richard and Juliette will be married soon.” She opened her eyes wider and poked me in the chest. “If you mess this up for me, I’ll kill you.”

I felt awkward and wanted to get the hell away from the crazy woman. I was starting to get a clearer picture of Juliette’s life, and it wasn’t nearly as pretty as she was. “I’d better go.”

“You’re a liability. I could put up with my friends flirting with you, but not my daughter. She needs to focus on Richard, and I can’t always be watching her.”

“With all due respect, Mrs Fontaine, I don’t think you’re giving Juliette enough credit. She’s a grown woman who can make her own decisions.” I didn’t care if I was speaking out of turn at that point. She probably wasn’t going to hire me again anyway, so I had nothing to lose speaking my mind. “She’s a strong and beautiful woman, and I don’t think Richard is worthy of her. Not the other way around.”

“I think you should return to whichever backwater you come from.” Medusa hissed again, this time with an extra dose of venom.

“My pleasure.” I walked past her towards the glass doors with my head held high. She had sucked all the air out of the room, and I didn’t need to be around her another second.

“Stay away from Juliette,” she shouted.

I didn’t turn around. “No chance,” I replied under my breath. I was going to walk away, but I would see Juliette again. My heart and soul wouldn’t have it any other way.

Chapter Fourteen

Juliette

“You’re a liability. I could put up with my friends flirting with you, but not my daughter. She needs to focus on Richard, and I can’t always be watching her.”

I’d returned to the lobby to retrieve my mail and suddenly wished I’d let another day go by without it. I was startled and horrified to hear my mother’s angry voice directed towards Leo when the lift doors opened.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I whispered through gritted teeth.

I shuffled sideways to hide behind the enormous indoor plant feature to my right. The voyeur in me wanted to listen to their conversation before interrupting them.

I missed Leo’s response but was again horrified by my mother’s words.

“I think you should return to whichever backwater you come from.”

“My pleasure.” His response was absolutely warranted but nonetheless devastating.

“Stay away from Juliette,” she shouted.

Instead of going back to the lift, I bolted for the door to the stairs and took them two at a time. I was on the fifth floor and I barely acknowledged the pain in my muscles as I ascended.

With the searing memory of Leo’s eyes on me, his brief touches, his burning energy pulsing from every pore of his body, I knew I needed to get my head on straight and make some hard decisions about my future. I was done with the crazy, sanity-preserving bullshit. I was done with the guilt that served only to fester in my soul and my withering idea of who I was.

I didn’t think I’d ever felt more alone. I was a twenty-five-year-old woman living the life my mother had planned for me. I walked on eggshells and it had gone on for too long. On paper, I was the perfect daughter she could be proud of, but in reality I was just an illusion. As a young girl, I’d worn pink tutus with wings sown onto sequined tops. She’d dressed me up as fairy princesses, and I’d worn veils, pretending to be a bride. I did ballet, drama and even a few modelling shoots for high-end kids’ clothing companies. In the end-of-year ballet concerts, my mother would meltdown if I wasn’t the little girl in the limelight. I’d feel ashamed and would vow to do better, even though I was more than happy to be a part of the backdrop.

I had never been perfect nor a princess. As an adult, I wanted to get my hands dirty, drive too fast, go to illegal fight nights, wear comfortable clothes, and allow myself to feel the way I felt about Leo whenever I was around him.

The desire to let myself drown under the pressure had always been overwhelming. There was something about Leo that made me want to throw myself off a bridge and then swim upstream like my life depended on it, because in a way, it did. Leo, or maybe even just the idea of Leo, made me want to scale rock faces with my bare hands and then stand at the summit and scream his name. I had a steely bravery within me, screaming to find a way out and into my everyday life—I think I always had. It was stifled by oppressive parents who had told me I was weak, an ingrained guilt laid on me all my life.

A child’s need to please their parents can last a lifetime. Pleasing mine was like being on a treadmill set to a speed I wasn’t quite fit enough for, but the idea of stepping off was daunting. My mother controlled the buttons and knew when to push them. If she sensed me getting ready to slow from a run, she’d increase the speed or the incline. I stepped up every time, thinking it would make her happy. By even noticing, she was paying attention, and I took solace in that. My father wouldn’t notice if I fell off the treadmill and broke my neck. Having no one care about me seemed far worse than the pressure of living someone else’s life.

When the knock on my apartment door came minutes later, I braced myself, knowing I was about to make my mother cry.

She wanted a key, but I always managed to ‘forget’ to get one cut. Before opening the door, I looked through the peephole at her for a few seconds, enjoying the fisheye view as she impatiently awaited entry. The optical lens made her head appear abnormally large and her eyes bug-like. Her stern features were distorted, transforming her into a crazy caricature.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door.

“Well, it’s about time, Juliette,” she huffed, storming past me into my apartment, which suddenly felt very small. “It’s rude to let me stand out there waiting.”

“Hello, Mother.” I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t use that tone with me. I’m very upset.”

Here we go, I thought to myself.

She dropped the stack of bridal magazines on the coffee table and sat down gracefully on my lounge. She nodded her head towards the other chair. I complied with her wishes, knowing it was best we were both sitting down for this conversation.

“Richard and I are worried about you,” she began. “He thinks you’ve lost sight of what’s important and you really need to sort yourself out.”

“Richard thinks that, does he?”

“Richard is a very smart man, Juliette. He takes care of all the tricky money side of my foundation. I’m so lucky to have him. We’re so lucky to have him.”

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I can’t be with Richard anymore and I certainly can’t marry him.” I looked at the floor and steeled myself before looking her in the eye. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Mother asked, going pale. “Don’t be so ridiculous, Juliette. Richard is the best thing to ever happen to you.” After a few-second pause where neither of us said anything, her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward and went for the jugular. “After everything I’ve done for you, you owe me. I need this.”

I stood up and started pacing, unable to sit still for a second longer. “I don’t love him, Mum. Sometimes I don’t even like him. How can you want that for me?”

“Sit down, Juliette. I don’t know where all this is coming from, but I don’t like it. Has it got something to do with the muscled-up bartender?”

I stopped pacing and turned so I could look her right in the eyes. She needed to hear this.

“This is about me. Me!” I clutched my chest. “This is to do with me not wanting to be with someone I’m not in love with. And this has to do with you being far too invested in every aspect of my life. I’m a grown woman and I’m not a puppet.” I took a deep breath before saying the words I’d wanted to say for so many years. “I’m not you, Mum.”

She was already pale, but my words appeared to drain the rest of the blood from her face, and her eyes glazed.

I walked over and sat down next to her. Tears were welling in her eyes, so I put my hand over hers. “I’m not you, Mum. I never have been and I’ll never be what you want me to be.” I squeezed her hand and waited until she looked at me. “You have to see that.”

She was mumbling to herself and refusing to look at me, so I continued my attempts to break through to her. She pulled her hand from mine and started nervously picking at a loose thread on her skirt. I wasn’t even sure if she’d heard anything I’d said. It was unnerving. She appeared to be having some kind of internal meltdown, and I feared her face might crack.

“Sorry, Mum.” I blew out a long sigh, knowing my determination had dissolved in a pool of emotional guilt. “Say something, Mother,” I implored.

“You have more of me in you than you realise, Juliette, but I think enough has been said today.” She stood up and smoothed her skirt down her legs. “You need to cool off. I’ll expect a phone call from you tomorrow apologising for this unnecessary friction. I don’t have time for your immature failings.” She finally looked me in the eye. “Grow up, Juliette. Marriage isn’t all hearts and flowers, and you’re naïve to think it is. Richard is perfect for you and I don’t want to hear another word otherwise.”

She turned and walked towards the door, stumbling a little on the edge of my rug.

Neither of us said goodbye.

For the rest of the day, I tried in vain to escape into my books. Leo was never far from my thoughts, and I kept finding myself reading the same lines over and over, wondering what he was doing at that moment. Was he thinking about me? Did he feel the connection I had felt?

I went to bed that night thinking about my life up to that point. If I looked at the positives, I had a decent job, I had somewhere to live and I had my health. Those were the things I could cling to in the light of day. At night, when everything felt more daunting and inexplicable, I found myself dwelling on how weak and pathetic I felt, allowing my life to be forged by anyone other than me. There was more to me than pretty dresses and polite conversation, but every year that passed me by, I was slipping further and further into that life, and it scared the hell out of me.

I let out the tears I’d been choking on for too long. I sobbed the big, ugly tears I’d always been too afraid to release. The flood gates opened and my whole body started to shake. I screamed in frustration and beat my fists against my pillow.