Chapter Twenty-Nine

NOW

 

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror in the lounge above the fireplace and was caught off-guard by the reflection staring back at me. How odd I looked with dreadlocks. So unlike myself. I was half-tempted to cut them off right then and there, but there was a more pressing matter building up inside me.

Looking down at myself I was aghast to see an ill-fitting vest and saggy shorts and quickly went to find something a bit more suitable in my closet.

Riffling through my closet, I decided on a dark blue button-down shirt and a slim-fitting pair of khaki chinos.

These would do nicely.

I grabbed a set of keys from the hook by the door and left.

The air was cooler than I had anticipated, but it didn’t matter. There would still be loads of people around tonight. I headed up from the beach and towards town, looking at things with fresh eyes as I walked. The first thing I noticed was the stares I was getting. So different from the looks I was used to. Some with curious eyes, others full of judgement. I didn’t care, though. Tonight, I wasn’t out to impress. Tonight, I was only after one thing. I knew what my body ached for and I knew exactly where to go to find it.

When I got to MAD bar, the place was moderately crowded but I found a stool by the bar where I sat and ordered a Mai Tai. It didn’t take long for the fishes to bite.

Within moments of my drink arriving, someone joined me on my left, lowering himself down on the stool next to me as he checked me out. His gaze lingered on my torso, which filled out the navy shirt more than it normally did, the buttons straining at the seams and hugging the muscles in my arms.

I kept my gaze focused straight ahead at the wall of liquor behind the bar. Sipping my drink nonchalantly as if unaware of his eyes focusing on me.

“¿Lo que, bebe?” he asked in an authentic Spanish accent, gesturing to my glass.

I took a moment to respond, enjoying the tension my silence created. He had turned his head to face me now, giving up on playing coy. He leaned against the bar in a seductive post and as I turned my eyes to see him more clearly, I took in his appearance.

“Mai Tai,” I responded in my newly gruff voice.

“Oh, you’re not Spanish,” he said in a tone of apology. I didn’t respond. Instead, I allowed myself to drink in the sight of him. How strange a look he was giving me. It was as if his eyes were saying dirty things to me, undressing me almost. Perhaps these were what people called “bedroom eyes.”

I didn’t think I had ever been regarded in such a way. Like a proper piece of meat. This man didn’t care what I did for a living or what my favourite colour was or where I grew up. As I studied his expression. There was only one thing behind his eyes.

Lust.

“My name’s Rodriguez,” he said to me, offering up his hand.

I didn’t respond straight away and I didn’t shake what was being presented. Instead I swivelled my chair so that we were face-to-face; profile to profile, and stared him down, a sly smile creeping up on my face. I ran a hand through my long, blond hair and puffed out my chest slightly, giving him a better appreciation of what I had to offer. His eyes followed suit as I hoped they would and before long I found myself standing up, closing in the distance between us until I could smell the scent of his aftershave and feel the heat emanating from his body. He moved back slightly at first, perhaps surprised at my forwardness. I allowed my hand that wasn’t clutching my drink to gently graze his arm, just enough so that he felt it.

When his eyes returned to my own, I parted my full lips and ran my tongue across them, moistening them seductively like I had seen done so many times before in the movies.

“You wanna get out of here?” I asked.

But I turned to leave before he could answer, knowing full well that he would follow. As I reached the door, he reached out his strong arm to open it for me in as gentlemanly a way as he could muster.

I smiled to myself as I led the way out of the bar and into the night.

He caught up quickly with me and attempted small talk as I led him towards a part of the beach where I knew we would be alone.

“So, uh, you from around here?”

“Yes,” I murmured in response.

“Cool. I, uh, know a place not far from here. Great food. Good music…”

I kept my eyes straight ahead, the destination being the only thing on my mind.

“Or we could go to my place, maybe?” he suggested.

“I’ve got a better idea…”

He was cute. Very good-looking, actually. Much hotter than any man who would normally give me any attention. My skin tingled all over with anticipation. I enjoyed feeling his eyes on me as we walked, watching my arse that filled out my chinos perfectly, if not making them appear slightly too tight. He wanted me. I knew it. From my peripheral vision, I could see him adjust himself in his jeans as perhaps the thought of what we were about to do danced through his mind.

“Not much of a talker, eh?”

“We’re almost there.”

We reached the spot I had in mind and I took him by the hand, enjoying the warm sensation of his hand in mine. I led the way down a grassy path, taking care with my footing on the jagged rocks that lined it. With my free hand, I moved branches out of the way from the low-hanging trees that skirted the trail. It was even darker down here now that we were away from any streetlamps and the moon above our heads was our only guide.

“Woah, where we headed?”

I’m sure I could sense a mild tinge of nerves to his voice as he ducked and moved to avoid getting a naked branch square in his eye.

“You sure you know where you’re going?”

Definite nerves.

“You’re not taking me somewhere so you can kill me, or something, are ya?”

His last sentence stopped me in my tracks. I paused for a minute, his hand still in mine, then turned to face him. “Now why would I do a thing like that?”

His expression, although cast in shadow, darkened and his brow furrowed as he considered the tone of my question. After a second of watching him flounder, I smiled to ease his tension.

He softened immediately and returned my smile, his gaze lingering on my lips. He let go of my hand and cupped my face as he lowered his head to mine for a kiss.

My body felt electric at the sensation of his lips pressed on mine. He was gentle, sensitive, and careful. I let my hands fall limp at my sides and closed my eyes and lost myself in the moment.

The feeling was exquisite. It had been so long since I’d felt longing from a guy. I parted my lips and let my tongue explore his mouth and invited him into mine. He gripped my face gently in his large hands, pulling me closer still until our bodies were pressed up against the other. His erection pressed up against my pelvis. I was growing hard too, lost in the sensation of his tongue licking my own.

It took all the effort I could muster to pull away and turn away from him before he could protest, and continue the last few metres towards the clearing to which we were headed.

“Ah, you tease…” he joked, following closely behind me.

After a few more paces the path opened out into the most beautiful secluded clearing.

“Oh, wow!” he said. “I had no idea this was even here.”

It was a small space I had discovered as a child that had remained all but unknown over the years. The gravelly terrain dissipated into a small sandy beach that was sheltered from the low-hanging palm trees and the tall, overgrown grass. The road behind was barely visible and the only light to illuminate the space was the glow from the moon up above, which danced and glittered on the waves in front of us.

“It’s gorgeous down here,” he said more to me than the surroundings. “How’d you ever find this place?”

But I had had enough of talking. I pulled his face into mine this time, planting my open mouth on his, forcefully yet passionately. He responded by returning my kiss. I explored his muscular arms, running my hands over his broad, rounded shoulders, tracing the bulging lines of his biceps.

He was still hard, as was I; my erection pressed up against my trousers. His hands sunk to my ass, gripping it tightly and squeezing as if testing out the firmness of a melon.

“You’ve got me fucking horny,” he moaned between kisses.

I let my hands explore underneath his shirt and find his abs, brushing over them with my fingertips before gripping onto his waist and drawing him into me even closer.

Then his hands found the dreadlocks and he ran his fingers over them, pulling at my head and forcing my eyes open.

He doesn’t want you.

I heard the words come from somewhere in my head. I could feel my expression changing as the truth behind them hit me and the playful lust I was swimming in switched to blind rage.

Stark realisation set in and something deep in my belly snapped. I lashed out, pulling away from his mouth and slapping him across the face as hard as I could, dragging my nails across his cheek until I could feel the hot sensation of blood under my fingers.

“What the fuck!” he shouted as he recoiled from my slap. He grabbed his face as he teetered backward out of shock.

I lashed out again, kneeing him in the groin with all my might. He let out a muffled cry as he fell to the sand, buckled over and curling into a ball.

“You fucking bitch,” he groaned through clenched teeth as the feeling no doubt shot up from his crotch to the rest of his body.

Again, I attacked, kicking him in the ribs while he was down.

“You don’t want me…Guys never want me. You want Lyric!” I screamed as I kicked him again. “They never want me. They always want him!” The tears came now, clouding my vision that had become shrouded in a red mist. “Everyone always wants Lyric. But none of you are good enough for him. None of you,” I screamed into the night.

I kicked him again and again, before I heard some sort of sickening crack coming from his sides. He was loosening up at my feet, becoming slack beneath my attack, perhaps losing consciousness.

“You’re fucking filth. You’re scum. You’re always attracted to him, but you’re never good enough for him.”

I sunk to my knees and straddled him, forcing him onto his back by twisting his shoulder away from himself until he was staring up at me through a dazed and pained expression.

“P-please…” he pleaded, spitting out blood and staring up at me.

I reached behind me and grabbed hold of a rock the size of my hand. I raised it above my head.

“Everyone always wants Lyric. Everyone always wants Lyric. When will it be my turn to be noticed? When will boys start to want me? When?”

I brought the rock down on his head, hitting him hard across the cheek. His face whipped to the left as a stream of crimson blood shot from the wound. His head rolled back to neutral, a gaping gash now staring up at me from the impact.

As I held the rock in my hand, there was another shift, as if I could feel myself being pulled away. It was almost magnetic, as if something had gripped me from the shoulders and was yanking me back. I looked down at the blood on my clothes and the rock in my hand and could only watch and observe as the rage melted away into a sort of core-shaking fear like I had never experienced before in my life.

Then I was gone.