Текст книги "Saved By Her"

Автор книги: Michelle Horst

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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

Other books by Michelle Horst

 

Wake Me Up 

A Tainted Ink Novel

Prologue

Emma~

“I’ll be like Mum.” It makes me sick to my stomach to say this. My grandfather was a drunk. She is a drunk. I don’t want to be a drunk.

I want to scream this at her, but I can’t. I can only sit still. I’m drowning in the disgusting feelings suffocating the air out of my lungs, until my chest starts to ache. It hurts to listen to my mum, but I can’t bring myself to move. Years of conditioning and fear keeps me frozen to the spot.

“You just read those books, that’s all you do,” she goes on. “You’re throwing your life away. There’s no silver lining, no happily ever afters, no fairy tales. Life is hard, babes,” she leans over and hisses in my face. Her stinking breath wafts over me, sticking to my skin. “And without me you won’t make it. EVER.”

She sits back and her chin wobbles. Oh no, not the tears!

I have to hold her. It’s the only way to calm her down. I get up and go to her, my body feeling rigid. It feels as if every muscle is fighting me, wanting to run the other way. I reach out to her, my arms feeling like rubber. I hug her to my chest and another wave of disgust wells up in me, threatening to squeeze the last bit of life from my body. The smell of her greasy hair makes my stomach turn. The clamminess of her alcohol-drenched skin sticks to my hands.

I go numb. No, I’m lying. I do feel something.

I feel sick. To. My. Stomach. Sick.

“I’m nothing without Mum. I won’t make it without Mum. Ever. Please hold me Mum. Don’t let me go.”

~*~

Chapter One

Emma ~

She’ll follow me no matter where I run to. It’s the first thought that crosses my mind as I place the suitcase down at the foot of the bed. I hate my parents for doing this to me, for making me run to North Carolina, the other side of the bloody world. But I’ve had enough! I have to do this for myself. I have to try and escape somehow.

I’ve heard stories of great men. What makes a great man? I’ve stopped asking this question, because I really don’t believe there is such a thing.

There was a time I thought men were supposed to be protectors of women, but time has molded men into weaklings. My mum molded my dad into a wimp and nothing more. My dad is a wimp. Weakly interacting massive particle or WIMP, a hypothetical particle serving as one possible solution to the dark matter problem – the dark matter problem being my mother. That’s the definition Astrophysics gave for my mum and dad.

I grew up surrounded by wealth and culture, tucked away in a small village that some would find perfect. Pendoylan is picture perfect by England’s standards. It’s a cozy little town. I love the beauty of my village, but I hate the prison cell it had become. The irony, that one can hate such beauty and wealth, and the very family you come from.

Coming to the town of Chapel Hill, I’m hoping to avoid the mad rush that comes with the big cities. I just want some peace. I know there is a lake here and Chapel Hill is known for its small town feel. I hope I chose right. I want to get away from my family and experience a bit of life. I want to live my own life.

Crickey, my stomach turns just thinking about the wonky thing I’ve gone and done. This is much bigger than I ever could’ve imagined! I might have traveled between Africa and England, but that was years ago. I never thought I’d have the courage to go against my mum. I’ve finally done it!

The old familiar fear bubbles up from the pit of my stomach and I have to remind myself that I’ve come to experience America, the one place that promises the freedom I’ve been craving for so long. That’s why I’ve done such a wonky-arsed thing. That’s why I’m standing in a stranger’s flat, in a strange town, hoping to experience a strange life.

Actually, that’s not quite true. It’s mostly Chloe’s doing. If it weren’t for her constant encouragement, I wouldn’t even be here. We’ve been joined at the hip (or should I rather say phone) since we met at the nursing college my mum forced me to go to. Studying at the nursing college, was the one time I got to experience a sense of freedom. I met Chloe there and by the time we finished our studies we were best friends.

She hated that we couldn’t visit with each other afterwards. That’s when she came up with the ‘escape the parents’ idea. She wanted me to experience life so she helped plan it all so my mum wouldn’t find out, giving her automatic guardian angel status in my life. It’s not easy going against my mum. I know when I go back there will be hell to pay, but at least this short moment of freedom will be worth it. I’m hoping I can figure out a way so I won’t have to go back. Just maybe a miracle will happen.

I’d be lost without Chloe. She’s my complete opposite, spontaneous, flirty, but most of all, she’s brave in ways I can only dream of being. She’s already living on her own, working – experiencing life. (Yeah, completely unlike me.) I didn’t even know about international roaming for my phone. Chloe sorted that one out for me, as well.

I wish she were here with me now. The time difference is going to be a pain in the butt for us to communicate. That reminds me, I need to let her know I’ve landed safely.

A smile spreads across my face the second I hear her voice, “I’ve been going nutters! Did you land in one piece? Is the flat nice? What is your flatmate like? Have your parents cont-”

“Chloe! Slow down, one at a time,” I stop her interrogation. I love her dearly, but she’s insanely protective of me. “I’m in one piece, but thanks to all those energy drinks you shoved into my system, I feel jittery.”

I struggle with nightmares and it makes me a restless sleeper. I didn’t want to sleep on the plane. A lot of help the energy drinks were. I fell asleep anyway, waking up to people staring at me, as if I were some mental bat.

“Well, at least you’ll have plenty of energy to have a go at a bloke then,” she teases.

“I said I feel jittery, not energized,” I correct her. “You’re not going to let that one go, are you?” She has made a short list of things I have to experience while here. Having sex with an American bloke is at the top of her list. Getting sloshed is second. She figures I should do both at the same time, it might give me more guts to go through with it, seeing as I still have to hand in my old V-card to begin with. (I’m still debating the whole thing.)

“No, never! If I had the option of losing mine with an American then I would have gone with it, instead of the nutcase I ended up with. Sunshine, you have to let your hormones sing the American Anthem. Take one for the team.”

Chloe only refers to the bloke as a nutcase, she never goes into any detail about her first time or the bloke, and that scares me even more. What if my first time turns out to be the same?

“You did not just say that? Honestly! Take one for the team?” I burst out laughing, desperately trying to laugh my nerves away.

“Yeah, and I want juicy details. You can be glad I’m not asking for photos. What’s the place like?” she asks again, reminding me of her earlier questions.

“The flat is really nice! It’s a two bedroom. It has an open plan kitchen and small lounge. The bedroom is huge, Chloe! It has a lovely cupboard and the window looks out over a beautiful courtyard. Oh, and I have my own bathroom. It’s nothing like the room at home! It’s easily twice as big.” Excitement starts to bubble up as I glance around the room again. “Did I mention the bathroom? It has a shower,” I squeal.

A sense of freedom washes over me as I take in all the space around me. The room is really twice as big as the one I had back home, and I don’t have to run through the house to get to the bathroom. I don’t have to face my mum. I swallow hard on the lump forming in my throat. I’m really free.

“I’m so happy you like it, Sunshine.”

“My flatmate’s not here. The lady that owns the building let me in. She’s so nice. But she was surprised to see me. We got the dates wrong. She expected me on Sunday and for some reason she got it in her mind that I was a bloke, so we had to clear that up, too. I don’t know where she got that idea from.”

“Anyway, I’m glad you’ve settled in. After everything we had to go through to get you there,” she sighs. “We were lucky to have found you a place to stay, and for the university to take you in this late in the semester. You just have to catch up the work. You can do it. It’s only two weeks. Just get enough credit to be able to stay there.”

I love Chloe dearly, she’s become my pillar of strength.

“I will. I’m going to do this. I’m going to show her I can survive on my own.” I feel my chest swell with emotion. That’s all I really want, to be free and to show my mum I don’t need her – I can live without her.

“Just don’t answer your phone if that bitch tries to phone you! Don’t reply to her texts. Don’t let her intimidate you. Remember, she’s all mouth and no trousers. You’re safe there.”

“Thank you for this chance, Chloe. Thank you for making this possible.”

“You know I’d ride a porcupine starkers for you,” she laughs. I don’t know where she heard that, but since she did, she hasn’t stopped saying it.

“Around the world and back,” is the best I can do in the form of telling her I love her. Growing up with Attila the Hun for a mother makes those words hard to say to another person, besides my gran.

“Now go on! Go get sloshed and grab a dishy bloke. Tonight is the night you get yourself de-virginized!” she all but shrieks in my ear.

“It’s going on ten p.m. this side. Can’t I do it tomorrow night?” I try to put the inevitable off for one more night.

“No. Tonight, or you will never do it. And remember, I want details.” She tries to sound bossy, but fails with the laughter coming through in her voice.

“I wish you were here with me. I don’t know how to ask a bloke. What do I say? I can’t just walk up to one and ask him to shag me.” I’m so nervous I start chewing on the inside of my cheek. At the rate I’m going, I’m bound to chew straight through the flesh before the night is over.

“That is why you need to get sloshed first. Then you find yourself a bloke, smile that stunning smile of yours and flirt a little. Sunshine, even if you have to put a bloody flag over his face and do it for the old Queen and country, just get it done,” she laughs.

“A lot of help you are. First he has to be decent, now I have to put a flag over his face.” But it’s working. I’m smiling.

Then she comes up with the wonkiest idea ever. “Do you want to practice on me? Pretend I’m a bloke.” I stare all flustered at the phone, before bringing it back to my ear.

“Have you gone mental? That’s even worse than trying to land some bloke!” My face flushes red. “Don’t bother. I’ll get it sorted. I can do this.”

“Just go have fun, Sunshine, you’re too serious about the whole thing. You’re finally free. Go enjoy your freedom.”

“Alright. Freedom. Experiences. Got it,” I’m repeating it all like a bloody parrot, just so it will sink in. “I’ll go dazzle some unsuspecting fellow with my smile and hope it’s enough to get him to shag me.” I’m going to have to get really sloshed for that to happen.

Nervous excitement bubbles in the region of my stomach again, making me feel even more wired. I’m going to go to a pub. I’m going to get sloshed for the first time. Reality is starting to sink in fast now.

“Take your phone with. Ring me if you need me. Text me. I’m on standby,” she says, offering her support to me like she always does.

“You’re the best, you know that, right?” I start to say goodbye.

“No, you’re the best,” she laughs.

“I’ll let you know how it goes.”

My phone beeps just as I cut the call. One glance tells me I can’t run from the inevitable. I’ve ignored all my mum’s messages, but now she has my dad texting me, as well. Chloe would kill me if she knew I was answering them, but I can’t just ignore them – they are my parents.

Where are you? We can’t reach you. Mum is worried.

I’ll reply to him – once only.

I’m taking a break from it all. You deal with Mum.

My breathing starts to speed up and I stop altogether. I start my silly habit to find some manner of calm again. I imagine an eagle taking flight, and I let all my feelings soar away with it. I let the eagle cry on my behalf, and I breathe out. “No! No more.”

I close my eyes, pressing the phone to my forehead. How I wish I could just close off the world like I just did my dad.

~*~

Well, I said I’ve come here to experience life, and the first experience is to find a pub and live it up so I have something to report to Chloe.

Wearing a pair of jeans and a white top covered by a light jacket, I don’t exactly scream hot girl looking for a bloke to help her get rid of the old V-prob. But then, I don’t want to dress up like a skank. I still have a slither of pride, even if I’m going to try and land some poor fellow.

Luckily, it doesn’t take me long to find a place. I only walk a few blocks from the flat when I reach the town. This is why we picked this flat; they said it was nice and close to everything. It’s a pity it’s dark out so I don’t get to see much of the town on my quest to find the pub. I’ve never set foot in a pub and don’t have a clue as to what to expect.

After passing a few restaurants and shops, I spot a couple of skankily dressed girls disappear into a dodgy-looking place. Strikers Bar and Grill, maybe I’ll strike it lucky in there. There should be booze, and where there are girls dressed like that, chaps are likely to follow. Like Chloe said, I only need one half-decent-looking bloke.

I stop in the entrance first, taking in the people and surroundings. I want to make a quick getaway if the place is too dodgy. The music is beating loudly, and it looks just like any old pub I’ve seen in the movies. Weathered, overused dance floor to my right, with some people already dancing. There’s a really overused bar counter to my left. The lighting is dim, and even darker in the corners. People are scattered everywhere. Some are sitting at the bar, where others seem to be having a great time at the separate tables and booths.

It looks decent enough so I make a mad dash for the bar with the goal of getting rat-arsed first. I find a seat in the far corner, reckoning the darkness could work well to my advantage. It gives me a good view of the rest of the pub, while I can hide and drown my inhibitions.

My stomach does that nervous twist again as I look over all the people. There are so many blokes I can’t even focus on one. A couple of them look my way and my mouth dries right up. I feel my cheeks flush, and the nervous twist turns into a full-blown war, tearing every last one of my nerves to shreds.

“It’s like killing two birds with one stone – two massive birds. Like prehistoric size birds. Alright, enough about the birds. Search and destroy all inhibitions by getting thoroughly sloshed,” I mumble, only making the nervous feelings worse. I need to shut up. The last thing I need is for these people to think I’m mental.

There’s a happy student thrill in the air. If you’re looking for a place to get lost, this might just be it. I watch the bartender help some patrons, his hands working fast to get the glasses filled.

A door behind the counter opens, and I watch as another bartender place some clean glasses behind the counter before he looks up. He smiles at me and I have to admit, he’s not too bad looking – that’s if I’m into the kind that has more piercings than I do.

“What can I get y’all?” he asks, sending my stomach off on a mad dash around the pub. I’m a sucker for American accents and oh my, as long as he keeps talking I won’t need a flag. Forget about Queen and Country, I might just be able to do this thing.

“Uhm…” Hell, I don’t know. I give him an awkward smile. “Anything you can suggest?”

“Start her off on tequila.” Some smart-arse goes off next to me.

I scowl up at fellow next to me and then wish I hadn’t even given him the time of day. Yu-uck, not even for Queen or Country. I keep my hands on my lap, making sure I don’t touch the bloke by accident.

The bartender glares darkly at the bloke, and then gets busy. I watch him prepare the drink. What he’s doing looks rather interesting. Seconds later, he places a tall glass with some mixture of crushed ice and red fluid in front of me.

“Strawberry Daiquiri,” he says, winking at me. I reward him with a smile and tip.

I hope the drink will soothe my nerves real quick. It’s sweet and actually refreshing, not at all what I expected alcohol would taste like.

American men. I haven’t even dated a British bloke, how am I going to handle an American one? I’ve heard they don’t take nonsense, not exactly the Mr. Darcy types. If they see something they like they go for it, and I’m hoping that will work in my favor tonight. I hope if I throw the offer out there, the bloke will just take it and not ask me any questions.

Halfway through the dink, which is really only seconds later, a loud roar erupts from the entrance of the pub, and just like all the patrons, my curiosity gets the best of me. I glance back.

It must be the ‘in’ crowd that has just entered. Most of the girls are beaming and I think they’re just about ready to drop their knickers all over the place, as the hot group of men saunters in. There’s a whole lot of hugging going on. There’s only one girl with the testosterone brigade, and she’s built like a brick shit-house. And she definitely knows it. I can’t tear my eyes away from her. I’ve never seen a girl move with so much confidence before. Her black hair shimmers in the dim light, and the sparkly top and short skirt don’t cover much. But then, if I had her legs I’d be walking on my hands to show them off.

The men are built, I mean muscles ripple and even the stale air gives way to their presence. Definitely a crowd that knows they have the ‘IT’ factor, especially the girl and the bloke walking next to her. They just give off a vibe that says, ‘screw with us and you’re shit-paste.’

And I’m right, because the second her eyes meet mine the jittery feeling increases, and a cold shiver runs down my spine, making my stomach go all knotty. Her eyes are cold, merciless – like those of a shark – making sure this small British fish knows she should simply head right back to her faraway pond. Then she smiles, and no matter how I try to force my lips to curve up, I know it must look pretty grim.

I take big gulps of the drink. I shouldn’t have stared. The last thing I need is some crazed American Amazon woman getting – AHH! Brain freeze! Bloody hell. I slam my hand to my forehead, trying to rub the freeze away.

“Hey, sweet thing.” The husky drawl crawls down my spine.

Please, please, please let it not be her, but even as I send up my quick silent prayer, I know it’s going to go unanswered. My first night out and the first person to take an interest in me would be the Amazon woman. Just my bloody luck.

I take a deep breath before I look over my shoulder. Bugger! She’s got eyes straight from King Neptune’s deepest oceans.

“Ah …Hi.” I’m willing her to go away, but she doesn’t.

She squeezes in next to me, way too close, and I’m starting to wonder if I read her wrong. Is she lesbian? Did I give her the impression that I am? Just so not my thing and I don’t think it’s what Chloe had in mind for me.

“Rob, the usual, and one extra for our new friend here,” she practically purrs at the bartender before turning her sapphire eyes back on me. “Come on. A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t be sitting here between the uglies. We’ll take care of you.”

She’s not asking. She’s demanding I join them, and I can’t begin to imagine why. If I looked like Chloe yes, I would understand. Chloe has brown curls I’d kill for and brown eyes to match them, and a body that would fit in with this group. Me? With my blond hair, green eyes and pale skin I look anemic, because I hardly ever got to leave the house.

For a split second I think about making a run for the exit, I really don’t want to be bullied tonight, and that can be the only reason she would take an interest in me. An easy target to get a few laughs from.

I look back at her, and that’s when I see him over her shoulder. I didn’t see him at first, but he’s all I see now. Now he, Chloe would approve of.

I’ve read books. I’ve watched movies. I mean I’ve gone through them like some people might go through toilet paper. But none of the characters and actors compare to the bloke I’m gawking at. He’s not built as stockily as the others, but the shirt sits tight enough for me to see there’s plenty of hard muscle hidden beneath it. His brown hair isn’t shaggy, but short and neatly kept. And his face is hard. Okay, maybe not hard. Serious? Or maybe it’s the penetrating look? I can’t put my finger on it.

What am I saying? I do want to put my finger on it – on his whole face, just to see if the tingling sensation I’m feeling can possibly get any more intense. That’s saying a lot coming from me, seeing as I don’t do the touching thing, at all. I like my personal space, a lot. I think the only reason I’m such good friends with Chloe is because it’s over a phone, and she can’t touch me. I never asked to be the way I am, it’s all because of the way my mum treated me. I learned from an early age that touching hurts, it disgusts me. People telling you they love you is just bullshit. My past made me who I am today, a broken soul.

Oh, tonight is going to be a problem. I look at the bloke again. Would I be able to let him touch me? I don’t feel the familiar wave of disgust well up in my stomach, and the words slip out. “Why not?”

I follow her, all because of him and the distracting tingling feeling growing in the region of my stomach. (Which is so much better than the nervous one I’ve been having up until now.)

“Look what I found all alone over there by Rob,” the girl drawls when we get to her group of mates.

They have a booth and table next to each other in the back corner, tucked away from the others.

“What’s your name, prettiness?” She throws her arm around me and I cringe. Oh hell, I hope she’s not the ‘let’s all be a groupie’ kind of person. I’ve read about those in some of my books. Reading it is one thing, doing it is completely another thing I’m not so interested in.

“Emma.” It takes everything I have not to look at him, at least not until I’m introduced. Then I’ll eye-stalk him a bit.

“Well, Emma,” she says my name as if she’s tasting it. “This is Colton. Mine.” I knew that from when they walked in together.

Colton has shaggy, light brown hair and sharp brown eyes. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes and it makes him look downright scary. I’ll make sure I stay away from him. The girl keeps going.

“Paul, Harper, Aiden,” My eyes stop on Aiden and I eye-stalk. Even his name … bugger, I’m going to drool just saying it. He finally looks at me and the pub takes a spin. Crikey! Does alcohol work that fast?

I’ve never seen gray eyes like his before, it looks like there’s a storm brewing in them. His eyes sweep over me and suddenly I wish I’d dressed better. I feel like the dullest girl here.

“And Joe, and Dave.” She finishes. I don’t bother look at them.

Aiden’s mouth curves at the corner, just slightly, but enough for me to notice – because I’m still eye-stalking. The tingles are back in full force, making it feel as if a flock of eagles has taken flight in my stomach. The slight smile makes him look utterly dishy.

I have to stop staring. Stop gawking, Emma, now!

I manage to tear my eyes away from his and look to her. She’s waiting for something, and then I realize she hasn’t introduced herself.

“Oh … and you are?” I ask so she will feel important. I’m very good at making people feel important. I’ve done it all my life. My mum is a control freak, and that is putting it mildly. She has this way of taking over your life and living it for you. It’s her way or the highway.

“Katia,” she says, a slow smile spreading over her perfect face. “Slide in,” she orders.

I hesitate and dare another glance in Aiden’s direction. He catches me glancing at him and a tidal wave of heat spreads through my body, rushing in the direction of my cheeks. Flustered, I move in. Katia comes in behind me, and it’s only then I realize I’m going to be pinned in by them. Oh Shit! I’ve allowed myself to be cornered. Now is not the time to lose control of the situation. I glance under the table, looking for a way to get out if the need arises.

“Or you can just run over it,” a deep voice says close to my ear.

I glance up, and the pub takes on that spinning thing it was doing a minute ago. His eyes are even grayer up close, forget the storm brewing thing I mentioned earlier. They’re almost like a silver moon, spotlighting everything mystical that comes out at night. I’m gawking again. It feels as if Aiden’s eyes are penetrating right through me, digging too deep, trying to find the few secrets I’d like to keep hidden.

I square my shoulders and lift my chin, so I’ll look braver than I feel. I don’t want these people to see how nervous I am. “Why would I run over it?” I feign ignorance.

“The floor is disgustingly dirty. I wouldn’t want you crawlin’ on it just to get away from us. You should rather run over the table if you need to get away.”

I can’t help but smile. It’s a miracle I’m not grinning like a daft nut. So much for acting brave. “You picked up on that?”

“Some here might bite,” he says, his eyes sweep over his mates before they settle back on me, “but I don’t.”

He tilts his head slightly, and the corner of his mouth lifts. Ahh, and my hormones start to play table tennis with my ovaries. I’m way too aware of everything around me, and we’re surrounded by other people. I need to get sloshed. I won’t be able to kiss this bloke, never mind going for a quick romp while I’m still sober.

I let my eyes take in the attractive man sitting next to me. Yeah, out of all the ones here, if I’m going to shag one, I’d like it to be this one. He doesn’t make my skin crawl, and that should be declared as one of the wonders of the world.

Alright, hormones in high gear, brain shut off and silent. I’m still staring, no, it’s definitely gawking. I finally manage to force my eyes to the bar but they have a one-track mind, because they pop right back to him.

He smiles and my ovaries are suddenly in the Wimbledon final.

~*~