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“Liz, there’s another one,” Cate yells as I shovel a heap of coco-pops into my mouth.
I drop my spoon into the dish and dash to the door. Cate barges by me, her pupils roll then vanish beneath her eyelids. I take the long stem single red rose from the courier, and close the door with the heel of my slipper boot. I sniff it as I swan leisurely to the vase, where three other long stem red roses stand, still fresh as the day they were delivered. I take one final lungful of the floral scent before slipping it into the water.
“He’s a penny pincher,” Cate grumbles as I touch and admire the soft petals. “All that money, you’d think he’d splash out and get you a dozen.”
She’s jealous, I can tell. She always goes all negative. So I just hum at her with a cheery unbothered grin.
“You coming out tonight then?” she asks.
“I don’t know. It’s always too crazy for me on mad Thursday.”
My plan is to avoid it at all cost. It’s student night, the last day of uni before Christmas break, and there’s always drunken trouble. All I want to do is come home, have a hot bath, and put my feet up ready for Saturday.
“You’re coming, like it or not,” Cate stresses. “It’s been ages since we’ve been out together.”
“I don’t feel like going out,” I say adamantly, even though I know exactly how this conversation will end. She won’t give up until she gets her way.
She blows out with her knickers in a twist and marches right up to me. “You have to. We do this every year and you’re not going to let me down now,” she orders. “Look at this.” She turns me to face the mirror above the phone stand. “You’ve gone all soppy.” She flicks my hair. “Do you think that Mr Perfect is not having a good time in Birmingham? Bet he’s been sticking all his fifty pound notes down the G-string of every lap dancer in the city.”
Great, now I have the mental image of Adrien with some slut on his knee, the place only I should be. I’m now completely livid for some messed up reason. Jeez, I really do need to wake up. I have turned soppy.
“Thank you for that, Cate.” I move away from my reflection, feeling all disappointed.
“Well it’s true. It’s what men like him do, Liz,” she says. “So, I’m finishing at five. Meet me at Finley’s, and I’ll have two margaritas waiting,” she chirps before leaving for work.
Great. Finley’s. It will be full of drunks, prancing around to gimmicky Christmas tunes. Fabulous.
***
I SAT IN CLASS ALL afternoon with my head in the clouds. Everything my lecturer said went in one ear, and out of the other. I only managed to jot down one sentence. Details on a five thousand word dissertation I have to complete over the holidays, on twentieth century slavery.
I’ve received a total of sixteen text messages from Cate. Each one saying the same: 5 o’clock, be there xx. So now, like a fool, I’m outside Finley’s in the freezing cold, watching as more and more people go through the doors.
I spot Cate through the window. She’s sitting at the bar with what she promised, two margaritas, madly waving me inside with a silly Santa hat on her head.
I haven’t made any effort. I’m still wearing my grey jeans and boots, with my hair up in a messy bun. Mad Thursdays aren’t for dressing up to the nines. What’s the point when the beer and drunks are flying everywhere. No, everyone usually just rolls out of work, and straight into the nearest pub.
“Finally,” Cate says. “Thought for a moment there, I’d have to call Pete,” she jokes, handing me my salt rimmed glass.
“You haven’t given me the choice,” I gripe.
“Oh come on. It’s Christmas, student discount, and we’ll have fun like always.” She raises her glass. “Down in one.” She tips the margarita into her mouth, gulps it down, and sucks in the air through her teeth. “Your turn.” She wipes her lip.
In a sulk I follow her lead. “God!” I gasp after swallowing. “If I’m ill tomorrow, you’re going to owe me.” I force a smile.
“At a girl.”
There’s hardly enough room to stand. The place is full. So packed the windows are steamed up from top to bottom. I’m on my fourth margarita, and the jingles being blasted that I usually hate, are making me itch to dance. I’m actually beginning to get that let-loose feeling.
Cate springs up and starts dragging me toward the dance floor as the song, Last Christmas, pummels my ears. God, why am I doing this?
Pete for once, I’m glad to see. Just as I’m about to step onto the black and white chock-a-block dance floor he grabs Cate’s waist, so I make a hasty retreat back to the bar before I make a show of myself. I can leave now. I’ll drink up, make my way home, and do what I planned originally.
I turn and lean on the bar, when someone touches my mid-back. I look over my shoulder. Oh great, it’s Nathan. I should have known I’d end up bumping into him tonight. He knows our routine. He’s been on it several times with Cate and me. Tonight he’s with his rowdy work buddies. All with loosened ties, and turned up sleeves. I swig the last drop of margarita from my glass, and pick up my handbag.
“Liz.” He takes my arm. “Don’t go because of me.” Please don’t do that with your eyes Nathan. I’m not the one who caused this. “Okay, you’ve convinced me,” he says, still with that sad puppy expression.
“Of what?”
“I’m in the wrong, and I’ve been a first-class dick,” he shouts over George Michael. “Please, have one drink with me... for Christmas.”
Say no Liz. This cannot happen. Too late, he’s ordering you wine. Wine for crying out loud.
“No Nathan,” I bark.
“Here, get it down your neck.” He hands me the glass, and idiotically I down it in one go.
“Another?” he smirks, waving his cash at the bartender.
I shake some sense into my tipsy head. I need a break from the awful music, and Nathan. I need to freshen up before I fall over. I make the usual excuse of needing to powder my nose and climb the iron staircase, fighting my way through the drunks.
I rinse my face over the sink as girls enter, trotting around in their heels, sharing cubicles, and generally talking crap. I’m not paralytic, yet, but feeling it more on my empty stomach. I dry my cheeks with a paper towel and take a breath.
As I make my way out onto the landing, I feel my phone vibrating in my bag. I quickly take it out and see Adrien’s name flashing. My head spins at the thought of hearing his smooth voice.
I’m not in the greatest place to answer, but it’s better than downstairs I suppose. I can’t leave him hanging can I?
“Adrien,” I smile.
“Elizabeth, you got my flowers?” he asks as I put my hand over my right ear to drown out the dreadful music.
“Yes, thank you. It was very sweet.”
The door to the side of me opens and a ginger haired guy stumbles out, tucking in his shirt. He’s a uni student, who clearly cannot hold his beer. He glares at me and winks, while licking his lips.
“Well.” He staggers toward me. “You’re very nice... sweetheart.”
“Who is that?” Adrien asks as I try to dodge the guy so he doesn’t touch me.
“Hold on a sec, Adrien.” I bring down my phone.
“Piss-off!” I push away the drunkard. “Come near me again and I’ll smack you in the face,” I warn, lifting the phone back to my ear.
“Elizabeth, where are you?” Adrien shouts as I keep my eye on the pervert hovering.
“I’m fine, Adrien.”
“Where are you?” he demands.
I eyeball the drunk as he slowly descends the stairs, giving me one final dirty ogle.
“I’m fine... he’s gone,” I breathe out.
“Elizabeth, you shouldn’t be out if you can’t look after yourself,” he says. “Have you been taking your tonic, and are you drunk?” What a ridiculous thing to ask me. “Well?” I move across to the other wall so people can get by me.
“If... I... said... no,” I stretch out my words, seductively. “What would you do, Adrien?”
“Elizabeth?” he bites.
“Look, I’m not best pleased with this conversation, Mr Knight,” I toy with him. “Why don’t you tell me what you will do to me on Saturday? That’s a much more pleasing dialogue to participate in.”
“Not a good time to joke with me, Elizabeth. Where are you? I’ll come and pick you up.”
I wait for a moment. Should, or shouldn’t I tell him? Do I really want to be told what to do by the most beautiful man on the planet? If I do, it’s giving him the right to control me. My mum raised me well in that department. Mind, she hasn’t managed to take her own advice in her forty-five years on this earth.
“Elizabeth!”
“Err...Ad...Adrien,” I stutter. “You...are br...breaking up.” I pull the phone away from my ear as I giggle. “See... you... on Saturday.” I hang-up in triumph.
Pat on the back for me. I have resisted the temptation. I have just figured out that I have the willpower of a beast, and I am actually chuffed with myself.
I return to my drink, and of course Nathan. He sees his friends off, as a vacant table full of half-full glasses becomes available. I rise up on my toes, looking for Cate. Every time this happens. I should have known. She’s up there now on the dance floor, all over Pete. Great.
Nathan turns, resting against the bar. “It was bound to happen,” he says. “It’s destiny when she’s out, the freak will follow.”
“Yeah, leaving me playing gooseberry, yet again.”
“I’m here.”
“Sure you are.” I now require more wine to get me through this, so I gesture the bartender. “Chardonnay please.”
“How’s it going with Mr Prick anyhow? Not heard a thing from Sara.” I glare at him. “Sorry, you know what I’m like with nicknames. It’s stuck.”
“I don’t want to talk to you right now Nathan. I might do something regrettable.” I put my money on the bar and pick up my glass.
“Fine,” he sighs. “Look, I’m going to go sit right over there with my friends.” He points. “You’re more than welcome to join us.” My eyes widen- like that’s going to happen.
“Before you go sit with your friends, you can give me a cigarette.” I wave my fingers insistently. “I know you have a pack on you somewhere.”
He hesitates, then rummages in his inside jacket pocket, taking out a twenty pack. I snatch it from him and pull out an appealing ciggy.
“Light.” I hold out my hand.
He nods, slamming a green clipper in my hand before going to join his friends, shaking his head at me judgmentally.
***
IT’S COLD, ICE-COLD, but the thought of inhaling this deadly smoke, is all I care about right now. I hold the butt between my lips and move away from the doors. I flick the clipper, and like magic the tobacco flames orange. I draw in the smoke slowly and inhale. Wow, the hit. That’s what I miss. That instant calming buzz. I cross my arms and walk by the pulsing windows, enjoying every single drag.
I start to feel a little dizzy due to the nicotine rush. My own fault for draining the cigarette soggy I suppose. I toss it in the gutter. I’ve had enough, so turn to make my way back inside.
“SHIT!” I’m grabbed suddenly and hauled violently backward down the dark side street. My vision, fuck, everything’s gone fuzzy. I make a croaky attempt to yell for help, but it’s stopped by a hand pressing hard over my mouth.
“Remember me?” It’s the dirty pervert from upstairs, he’s right in my face. “Yeah... well sweetheart, I’m all yours.” I kick his shin hard as he clamps my arms against a brick wall. “Bitch... you little bitch... you will pay for that!” His spit is on my face dammit.
My heart drums as adrenalin rushes around my body. I’m more than scared, but I’m sure as hell not going to let this perverted fuck near me, without causing some damage to him. I kick and kick at his legs. He yowls his foul breath in my face and tosses me onto the wet floor. I crawl back using my hands and feet, grazing my palms on the cracked tarmac. He grasps my collar and hauls me up to his filthy face.
“I’m going to show you a real man bitch. I’m going to bang your bones so hard you’ll scream.”
He moves closer to kiss me. I spit and hiss in his face, crying out for help. He punches me hard and the force jars my neck back.
Headlights suddenly beam, shining over his shoulder to blind me. Abruptly, I find myself on the ground and my attacker up against the wall, receiving a beating. I focus my hazy vision, holding my cheek, and wobble up to my feet. It’s Adrien in a grey suit, thumping the hell out of the guy. He punches and punches, until my attacker raises his hands to surrender. I have to stop him. The guy might deserve it, but Adrien doesn’t deserve to go to jail for this.
“Adrien.” I grab his arm.
His head swings around, and just for a second he looks like he wants to strike me too. I have never seen such rage.
“Please stop,” I plead as he studies my fear.
He turns back to my attacker, wrenches, and flings him out onto the street, warning him to run. And he does. Battered and bruised he flees the scene of the crime.
“Fuck- fuck- fuck, Elizabeth!” Adrien paces back and forth then angrily toward me. “I can’t believe you’d spend your time in a shithole like this.” He throws his head back. “Asking for it were we?” He hums with a caustic glare.
I stand still for a second, trying not to breakdown in front of him. I’m not going to let him make out that this was my fault. I don’t deserve to be spoken to like this.
I turn and walk away, back to the bar. “That’s it... that is it,” I choke up.
I’ve just nearly been raped and he’s blaming me. I thought he was different. I thought wrong, obviously.
I stagger out under the streetlight, only to have him appear before me. He holds my arms gently. I try not to look up at him, but it’s pointless. His lips are straight and now his eyes are soft and glassy. He heaves in a breath with a slow blink of his eyes.
“Elizabeth... please. I’m sorry. I saw his hands on you and lost it.” He cautiously places his fingers on my cheek. “He’s hurt you. No one has the right to touch you.”
I gulp down with emotion and the tears begin to tumble. I could have been killed in that alley. He brushes my cheek with his thumb, staring down at me with care.
“Liz,” Nathan’s voice calls frantically.
Great, now there’s an audience witnessing me weeping.
“Liz.” Nathan charges over, and who’d have thought it, comes to the wrong conclusion. “You did this!” He points to my cheek then spitefully shoves Adrien. But my hero stands firm and takes it without flinching.
I peer at the crowd, noticing several pale faces closing in on Nathan, but they stop when Adrien holds out his hand. If I’m not mistaken, it seems like he came here with back-up, and has just called them off.
“You laid your hands on her didn’t you? I’ll kill you!”
“Nathan,” I scream so loud he stops to look at me with piteous eyes. “He saved me. I’d be in that alleyway torn up if it wasn’t for Adrien. So back-off!”
“Liz come on, I’m taking you home.” Nathan gestures me as though I’ll just drop Adrien to follow him.
I turn to Adrien. He’s already holding the passenger door open on his silver F-Type Jag. I lower my head. I need to be with Adrien. I disregard Nathan standing there waiting for me, and climb inside the warm safe car.
I don’t get it. I’ve just been assaulted, and I have the two men in my life making me feel bad. Adrien, because my drinking haunts aren’t up to his standard. And Nathan, because I chose Adrien. Men and their damn testosterone, is something I don’t need right now.
***
I’M QUIET AS WE APPROACH my front door. It’s to be expected. No matter how attentive Adrien has been, helping me out of the car and opening doors for me, I’m still traumatised. I just want to scrub tonight off my skin.
My hands tremble and I drop my bag out in the hall. Adrien bends over to pick it up and pulls out my keys.
“Which one?” he asks, puckering his brow at my fuzzy pink troll keyring.
I point, and he opens the door for me.
I walk through the flat, tearing off my jacket that still has that creep on it. I throw it on the floor and turn back to see Adrien still standing outside in the hallway.
“You just going to stand there?”
“I really shouldn’t come in. You’ve had an ordeal tonight and need some space,” he replies, delicately.
Screw that. Right now I want normal. To think about something other than that twisted shit who nearly had me.
“I need you to,” I choke up.
“Elizabeth,” he huffs. “I won’t come in, if I’m not invited.”
“Please,” I say quietly. “Come in.”
He steps over the threshold and closes the door. He sees the roses he sent me on show and smiles. I thought he’d be all critical, but he seems quite comfortable in my basic abode.
He strolls to the sofa. “You should go and freshen yourself up, Elizabeth.”
I leave him sitting on the couch, flicking through one of Cate’s hair magazines.
***
I PEEP THROUGH THE bathroom door after I’ve just finished scrubbing the shitty night off me. He’s still waiting patiently on the couch, his high-class shiny shoes crossed. His eyes meet mine over the back cushion of the couch as I timidly make my way toward him. God, I’m more uneasy in my own surroundings than I was in the penthouse.
“Would you like a drink?” I ask.
He watches me, one eye greater than the other, fascinated by my tatty bathrobe. “Do you have whiskey?”
“One sec.”
I stoop over next to the television to check what we have available in our forever dwindling liquor cupboard. From the back, I pull out a bottle of Jack Daniels and hold it up for him to inspect.
“Elizabeth, I like the finer things in life as you are aware.” I think he’s trying not to laugh at me. “You don’t need to be nervous of me now, not after Sunday night.” He beams as I flush a warm shade. “JD is a good drink.”
I pour him a glass, and one for myself. But to mine I add a splash of cheap supermarket brand lemonade. I take our glasses and sit beside him on the lime green scatter cushions. His hand reaches out to take the glass. He smells so good. A different scent tonight. Sweet but manly.
He shuffles to the edge of the sofa removing his blue silk-lined grey jacket, then relaxes back. Wow, he’s so good at this being calm business.
“You’re back early... from Birmingham,” I say, sipping my weak whiskey.
“Yes, it’s always a nightmare catering to the whims of my boss.” He rubs his hand on his thigh. Stop looking at his thigh Liz. “We have some bad apples to get rid of if things are going to work in this industry.”
“So, you have a boss?” I ask in shock because I thought he owned his own business.
He chuckles. “I have different roles to play, and many doors I work behind.”
“You mean, you have your fingers in many pies?” I blink slow, trying not to cringe at my own clichéd comment.
“Hmm, thanks for the correction.” He drinks what whiskey is left in his glass, then hits me with a serious gaze. “Why would you put yourself in danger, Elizabeth, explain?”
“It’s not a big deal. I just strayed too far from the crowd.”
“With a cigarette, or what is it you Brits call it, a fag.” He nods in disapproval.
Please do not start to lecture me on the health risks of smoking. You yourself Mr Knight, are proving to be detrimental to my health.
“And you were with Nathan?” he enquires in a merciless tone.
“No, I was with Cate, and Nathan just happened to be there.” Great, this conversation is going downhill fast. “How did you know where to find me?”
“A process of elimination. Seems that joint is popular. Why, is beyond me.”
I sip my whiskey as he slides his empty glass onto the coffee table. It’s too quiet, and I’m in two minds whether or not to put some music on.
“Elizabeth.”
“Yes.” I breathe out sharply.
He turns to face me with his leg over his knee, revealing the Boss brand on the sole of his shoe. The soft fabric of his trousers accidently skims against the back of my hand. He’s done it again, got my heart soaring high. I’m trying not to be preoccupied by this need to have him right now. But my god, it is so difficult keeping slutty Liz on lockdown. And that is all kinds of wrong after what happened tonight.
“No man should ever touch you that way, and you shouldn’t allow it to happen,” he says, sternly. “When I touch you, what do you feel?”
Oh don’t. Please don’t make me say it. You make me hot. I need you. I fantasise about you every minute of the day. I look down at my empty glass, burning up.
“See, the look on your face.” He strokes my cheekbone. “The flush of pink across your cheeks, tells me that’s how you like to be touched. That dirty asshole tonight, there are too many of them out there waiting for a girl like you. I will never make you feel that way... unless that’s what you want.”
Maybe I do. Rip off my clothes. Hold me and touch me in an aggressive manner.
Jeez, I really need to sit still. I need to stop with the shuffling ass and rapid breathing. I need to be more like Adrien. Unflappable about the whole, I want sex right now with you, thing. I’m being unsophisticated. Wild like a primitive cave woman.
“So...” I put on my best classy voice. “Where are we going on Saturday? I mean I hardly know you, and you’re taking me away. God knows what I’m getting into,” I awkwardly joke.
He knows I’m dying inside. I can see it in his face. His inflexible probing eyes and his deep inhalation. He can smell my lusting pheromones, and knows I have sex on the brain.
He picks up his empty glass, implying he’d like another. I take it with mine to immediately escape the sex-zone, and place them on top of the cupboard.
I screw off the cap while subtly looking over my shoulder. He’s concentrating on my shitty bathrobe. I knew I should have borrowed Cate’s lilac satin one, which is hung on the bathroom door. He’s more of a satin man than a tatty off-colour towel kind of guy.
“So?” I ask again.
“You’re apprehensive about joining me?” he asks, slighted.
I catch a breath. Why does whatever I say sound offensive to him? Perhaps I should attend elocution lessons on speaking to affluent hotness like himself.
“Not at all,” I squeak, holding his whiskey directly in front of him.
He takes it and places it on the table, his eyes charring mine. He looks down at the hem of my gown and up to the belt with appetite. He reaches out and uses my waist to very slowly pull himself up my body. I sigh out loudly. I can’t stop it. He pushes up close so his hips rub against mine as he ascends. I swig down my quaking breath. Oh Adrien, I’m all yours.
He lies both his hands on my face and stares, keenly tilting my neck to the side. He begins to plant his cool lips sensually on my skin, over and over again. Goosebumps discharge down my spine and my hair stands on end. I shut my eyes as my fingers caress the fine hair on the back of his neck.
“I’m going to do a lot of this.” His slick voice dampens my earlobe, before his mouth moves down to my neck. “I am most definitely going to fuck you.”
“Oh please stop,” I exhale, pulling at his hair.
“I’m going to do things to your body you’ve never experienced before,” he murmurs, pressing his nose against my cheek. “Elizabeth,” he whispers.
“Yes... yes.”
“Are you sure you want to come with me?” He’s kissing my damn neck again!
I cannot speak. I’m in some sort of hypnotised mess, and he’s pulling on all my strings like a puppet. Hell yes, my thoughts scream out. I will come with you, and I will come for you.
“Elizabeth, if you cannot wait, I can give you a taster right now,” his throaty turned on voice fractures.
My phone begins to ring. Of all the stupid senseless times to call someone, some idiot calls me now.
It finally goes dead, but almost immediately starts to ring again. I roll my eyes as Adrien unlatches his lush lips from my neck and gapes down at me, unfulfilled. It’s either Cate or Nathan.
“God ... I’m sorry,” I growl.
I storm across to my handbag. My objective: to throw my fucking phone out of the window, and get back to business. I rummage to the bottom of my bag, wound up like a jack-in-a-box. I look at the screen to see Nathan’s name flashing. I swear he’s stalking me tonight. I push reject call, and as soon as I do, Adrien’s jacket on the couch begins to ring. Of course it’s a much more delicate tone than mine. He grumbles low with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Apologies.” He coughs to rid the sexual pressure, taking out his iPhone. “Shit.” He looks at the screen then waves it up and down, like me, pissed at being rudely disturbed. “I need to get this. Can I use your bathroom?”
My body drops down onto the couch, shrinking rapidly. He better not be married, and that’s his wife calling from overseas. I pout as he disappears inside the bathroom, closing the door.
Why am I flicking through this brochure of pin-up hair-dos’? It doesn’t interest me. I just don’t know what else to do with myself. I need to take my mind off him somehow, and if reading up on Victoria’s rolls works as my anti-climax, then needs must.
“Are you fuckin messing with me!” Adrien’s furious voice makes me jump. Wow, I wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of that call. “Not going for that Dom.” I try not to listen, but that paper thin door is by no means soundproof. “If Laurie has a problem, then tough shit,” he growls, lowering his voice. “I tell you what, the order can go fuck themselves. And Laurie, well if he has a problem, he can come to me. He’s forgetting who’s in charge here. I asked for a few days, that’s all. Tell him to call me ASAP.” The pause of silence is way too tense. I can hear him pacing in there.
He emerges through the door, lowering his chin to his chest, muttering. I shouldn’t really be looking at him. He was quite scary in the bathroom. I pointlessly move objects around on the coffee table. His glass next to mine, the magazine in the centre, then I plump up some of the cushions.
“Hmm, Liz.” Holy crap, hallelujah, he’s called me Liz. “Sorry, Elizabeth.” Oh, perhaps in time then.
“You have to go?”
“Sorry. Someone’s trying to get me into trouble.” He mumbles something crossly, I can’t make out what.
“It’s fine,” I sigh.
He doesn’t need to feel bad over it. I’m sure I’ll calm down soon. Perhaps another shower. A cold one.
“Okay then.” He sweeps up his jacket. “Six on Saturday.” He kisses the top of my head of all places, then makes his way to the door.
“Thought you said seven?”
“No six. It gives us time to get there.” He pulls on his jacket lapels in that hot supermodel like way. “Pack a bag, enough for three nights.”
Oh my god. Three nights. I can’t just drop everything. But Liz, you’re forgetting, the only place you’re invited to this Christmas, is Mums. Though, I have got my dissertation to do. Hmm, decisions.
“So Saturday until?”
“We’ll be back Monday evening, Tuesday morning latest.” He opens the door. “See you then.” He winks and leaves me sitting in a daze.
***
I BOLT UPRIGHT IN BED with my heart hopping in fear. I listen while hovering my hand over the lamp switch. I hear giggling, scuffling, and the sound of drunken bumping into furniture. Oh, it’s Cate. She better be quiet tonight. I pull my earplugs out of my underwear drawer, pop them into my ears, and turn off the lamp.
Light suddenly floods through my room. I squint up to see Cate’s silhouette hovering back and forth in the doorway with the Santa hat over her eyes. She’s wrecked, and I haven’t got the patience for this.
“Ex...cuse me missy,” she slurs. “I’m so, so, so upset at... you.”
“Piss-off Cate,” I snap.
“Oh honey, come here. Let me... me see what that dickhead did to you.” She stumbles in and sits on my bed as ungraceful as a baby elephant.
I sit up, unimpressed, and flick on my lamp. She narrows her panda eyes at me and begins to sob more mascara down her cheeks.
“Nathan’s been locked up.” She wipes her face.
“What for?” I ask, watching as she starts to retch. “Don’t you dare Cate... Hold it in!”
She takes a breath and tries to focus using the one eye trick. “The guy that hit you, well, he don’t know who ya friends are.”
Oh great. I am not bailing him out. I won’t do it. But wow, I feel so guilty.
I know what Nathan’s like. He has too many drinks, and if something upsets him, he flips his lid. Thinks he’s a cage fighter or something. I’ve been through many alcohol fuelled skirmishes with him before. I’ve seen bloody noses, torn shirts, and grazed knuckles. He’s a manager of a company now. Wears a frigging suit for work. He needs to grow the hell up.
“Don’t worry yourself. He’ll be fine, sleeping it off in a cold cell.” She stands up and weaves to the door. “His friends will sort him out.” She goes to close the door then opens it again. “Oh, where’s mister prick anyhow?”
“Go away Cate.” I slam my head down on my pillow.