I STARE AT my phone that is sitting on the nightstand. I want to call Lenic. It feels strange not calling him, strange not hearing his voice while I lie in my bed at night.
It has been seven long days since we rolled against one another in the slick humidity of my room, and I miss him. I miss him too much that it hurts.
We have talked on the phone every night since he has been away in London. We talked about everything, from favourite foods to embarrassing stories. We never ran out of things to discuss. I feel like I could tell him anything.
I turn my head to the side. Delphine is sprawled out next to me, eyes closed, her lips slightly parted, her cheek resting on her forearms, fast asleep. I am too keyed up to sleep, waiting for a call.
I settle back into the pillow. My head is buzzing too much, the clamour of anticipation and excitement loud in my skull. Turning back to my nightstand, I reach for Lenic’s origami swan, and curse under my breath when I accidently knock my glass of water over it.
My eyes widen as I pick it up. A blue inkblot pools through the thin white paper. I gingerly unfurl the swan. The only light is spilling from the bedroom window, so I hold it up to let the yellow light from the streetlamp outside fall on the scrawled letters that look so stark against the white background. A message is inscribed with blue ink in neat handwriting.
‘Worth saving, LR’.
My breath hitches in my throat, and my pulse accelerates. I need to talk to him. I need to see him.
I pick up my phone, my fingers hovering over the screen, undecided. Lenic left London this evening, but it’s his friend’s birthday and they are out celebrating on the other side of the river. Lenic suggested popping in when he passes through on his way back to his place — if it’s not too late. I glance at the clock and sigh. Is one a.m. too late?
I am pulled out of my thoughts when I hear a loud bang. I sit bolt upright in bed and listen. Nothing, just silence, except for the plashing patter of steady rain against the window and—
I hear the thumping noise again. It is coming from downstairs. I slide my feet into my pink fluffy slippers, and, dressed in my white Grumpy Cat nightie, I pad out into the hallway. Tilting my head as I come to the second set of stairs, I flinch. Someone is knocking on my door.
Is it Lenic? He said he would ring me beforehand … Maybe his battery ran out…
Gripping the old wobbly and probably unsafe banister, I make my way down the stairs, listening to each and every creak and groan of the boards beneath my feet. The heavy knock at the door comes again. When I realise it is a little strange how he isn’t using the doorbell, I take the last step cautiously off the stairs, jumping suddenly in fear.
It is after one in the morning and blacker than black in Stonebrook. So in the dead of night, when I hear a woman scream, “Let me go,” it feels like someone is walking on my grave. I rush to the curtains and peek through them.
It’s Rose.
And she is not alone.
There is a man standing next to her. He isn’t very tall but he has broad shoulders and builder arms. Delphine comes bounding down the stairs. “Flick. There’s a girl being harassed by some drunk idiot outside.”
“It’s Rose.” Delphine shoots me a confused look. “Long story. I think that arsehole is her boyfriend and I’m pretty sure he’s been beating her.”
“Oh no … Maybe we should call the police.”
I only notice my hand has wrapped itself around my bare arm when it squeezes the flesh hard. I spent years as a child behind bars in my head. The anger of abuse never really leaves you.
I reach to unlatch the top of the door, my fingers sliding the chain loose. “Flick, are you listening to me? Maybe we should let the police deal with this. Please don’t go out there. It’s dangerous.”
Delphine doesn’t know this town like I do. The only places she has experienced in England are Brighton and London — where the police do something.
I don’t turn to face her. “They’ll take too long,” I say quickly, reaching for the deadbolt. “I told her I could help her. She came to me. I have no choice.”
I feel Delphine’s hand grip my arm. “Please. Just wait.”
I can’t wait. I can’t wait around and do nothing. It is too close to home. The mental scar that woman burned on me will never fade. I whirl around. “I spent years watching people do nothing while she tortured me,” I practically yell, without thinking. “I won’t stand by and watch like everyone else.”
“Who? Who hurt you?”
I stare into her pleading eyes, falling so far into the past. I shake myself and draw my focus back to the present when I hear another frantic, desperate knock on the door. “Please understand, I have to do this. Go upstairs and stay there.”
“No—”
“Just do it,” I snarl, then close my eyes briefly. In a softer tone I beg, “Please.”
When I hear Delphine bound up the stairs, probably on her way to call the police, I close my eyes as I concentrate on taking deep, steady breaths. When I hear Rose knock imperiously at the front door, I allow my shaky fingers to move the dead bolt the rest of the way and open the door.
“I’m sorry,” her boyfriend pleads, too drunk to take notice of my sudden presence. “I won’t do it again, sweetheart.” His voice is thick and beery, his breath foul. “I need you, Rose. I’m nothing without you.”
When Rose looks at me, her eyes are wild with fear. She is crying, her chest heaving with each sob. I ignore her boyfriend. “I can help you,” I say to her. When she doesn’t move, I step outside and extend my hand out to her.
I’ll be damned if she goes back to him.
“They can’t hurt you unless you let them,” I add, reaching my hand out farther.
“Who the hell’re you?” her boyfriend asks.
I ignore him. Rose takes my hand, her eyes glazed with fear as I lead her inside. Her boyfriend tries to grab her, and I stumble forwards in the process, tripping over the front step, scuffing my knee. I don’t have time to think properly. I feel rage growing in my chest, my hands curling into fists, and the red mist filling my vision.
I am aware my anger is not coming from a bruised knee, or from Rose’s torment. I am letting my past emotions get twisted into someone else’s affairs. I know this isn’t about me. Even though I am fully aware of this, I can’t stop myself.
My fist collides with his chin before I even have time to register my actions, and he reels back, his hand on his face. I expect to be hit back. I expect to feel some kind of retribution.
But it never comes.
He is thrown against the wall outside like he weighs nothing.
“Don’t give me an excuse, boy. No one will miss you,” I hear Lenic say, his voice level, controlled. I instruct Rose to go upstairs, and then I go out just in time to witness Lenic lightly slap the drunk on the right cheek and then the left, seeming to want to snap some sense into him.
Lenic turns to me. “You OK?” I nod my response. “Good. Now what happened?”
“His girlfriend is inside. She’s left him … This … prick, has been physically abusing her.”
Lenic turns his full attention back on Prick when he tries to wriggle out of the huge Marine’s grip. “Are we having a failure to communicate here?” Lenic’s control of anger is startling but impressive. But what is more impressive is how Lenic has the drunk under his control with only one arm pressed against his collarbone.
“If y-you hit me, I’ll call the police.” Prick’s voice is trembling with fear.
Lenic’s head tilts back, so that he is looking at the other man down the length of his nose. “I’m a Royal Marine. I won’t hit you — I’ll shoot you.” Lenic moves closer, and the abusive drunk visibly cowers. The former Royal Marine has the menacing presence of a standing bear.
“I’m sorry, man. D-Don’t hurt me, please.” Prick has the good sense to hold up his hands.
“Apologise to the lady.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry — OK? Now please don’t hurt me, man. I’ll leave, OK. I’ll leave.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what you’ll be doing, Prick.”
“The name’s Dave.”
“I’ll go with the lady on this one.” He shoots me a wide smile before turning a steely glare back onto Prick. “You’re coming with me, aren’t you?” Lenic’s expression holds a clear warning: give the wrong answer and he will break his arm. Prick nods in fear and mumbles under his breath. Lenic looks at me. “You punched him?” His tone is firm, holding an edge that makes the question sound like he disapproves of my actions. I nod my answer.
I swear to God, if he tells me I shouldn’t have gotten involved … it is over. Whatever this thing between us is, I will shut it down before it has the chance to start. My heart thumps wildly in my chest. It is one of those make-or-break moments.
“Nice right hook, Hazelnut.”
I guess the moment’s been made.
With Dave still in his grasp, Lenic scoops up my slipper from the ground. I realise then that I am only wearing one shoe. It must have slipped off when I tripped over.
“Here. You’re missing one.” Lenic grins suddenly, his full lips pulling back over white teeth and I feel my heart stop.
It’s not lost on me, the significance of me standing in only one shoe as Lenic hands me the other to complete the pair. Something clicks in my head, and I start to believe for a moment that everything will be alright.
If he reached into my chest right now, and pulled out my beating heart, it would have his name carved into it.
I watch Lenic load Prick into the back of his Lexus like a policeman, then hear the beep of his car locking as he strides back towards me, closing the gap between us. My pulse increasing, my blood pumping, he reaches out across a gap that isn’t just distance, but a gap of minutes, hours, days and a week.
"I missed you,” he says, full of need and longing.
I don’t see it coming, until my back hits the door behind me, and his lips meet my own, clumsily, all teeth and saliva and bumping of noses. I open my mouth and meet his tongue, fighting back to regain a bit of control over the kiss rather than just be crushed by it. God, all thought of how we can’t do this, out here, on the street, is fading as I feel the pull of impatient hands at my nightie, and feel myself almost smirking as I feel the telltale bulge in his jeans.
He rips his mouth away, ripping a tiny hole in my heart with it. “Too damn hard, Felicity.” He is breathless. “You make it too damn hard.”
I watch him slide into the driver’s seat of his car, and disappear down the street, with an ache in my middle like something is being pulled out of me, away from me. I don't want him to leave. And more than anything, it has made me realise how much I have missed Lenic, how much I love his company the most.
I head back inside my home, shutting the door behind me. I try to still my shaking limbs, to hide the fear I'm drowning in. But what am I truly frightened of?
I know I can’t stay away from him now, even if I try. Something in my heart tells me he is ‘the one’ … an idea I’ve never instilled any belief in.
I can still feel myself fighting the deep connection that is beginning to grow inside of me for him. It is like poison ivy. Vines creeping all over me, too many to cut away, and the ones I do manage to shrug off, well, they just keep growing back stronger than ever.
I don't know when it crept up on me, this overwhelming feeling. But there is no denying it. The sexual chemistry between us, the magnetic pull we have towards each other, has grown into something more. So much more.
‘Nice right hook.’
Three words.
Three magic words.
It’s not quite I love you, but these three little words are all it takes to change the track we are heading down on.