Eavan

I run, bouncing off the people I pass, my feet like two concrete blocks, tears blinding me. My chest feels like a cage. There is no oxygen in my lungs. I wheeze and slow down. Everything is slow in my life because of my insomnia-my soul, my brain, and my limbs. Everything is tiring, but the problem is that I can’t afford to be tired. I should be fast, my brain should be sharp, and my life plans should be narrowed to taking care of my sister.

My mother’s words course through my head like fire arrows.

Watch over Ruby.

Be a good girl.

Be invisible.

Don’t enrage your father.

Behave. Be quiet. Be polite.

Don’t dress like a slut.

My feet scrunch against the path meandering among the majestic trees of the park near the house I’m renting. Dust is rising from underneath my soles, forming small clouds. Two people with dogs pass me, shooting me concerned glances.

I take a rapid breath and pick up the pace.

Seafra touched me.

No—

He was holding me in his embrace as though I was his possession. It can’t happen again. I can’t afford to be distracted by some jerk.

I will go to the party because Ruby wants his autograph desperately then I will throw him out of my mind, erase every memory of him as soon as my sister and I leave.

I cross the road and struggle along the pavement, climbing the hill, my breathing laborious, dizziness whirling in my head. My stomach feels like a noose of a rope is strangling it. His face is still lingering in my head, burned into my memory, as though my brain has been branded. I can still smell him, earth and rain mingling with his sweat, intoxicating like sweet poison. Calling to my primal instinct. Dangerous like standing on the edge of the cliff and irresistible.

I turn right and go down the concrete stairs, sliding my hand against the metal railing then turn left and knock on the brown door with a fanlight adorning it. I love that historical feature, serpentines, cast iron, and coloured glass bringing images of Victorian ladies to my mind. The bay window on my left is my favourite as well. I’ve always dreamt of buying a small castle and living like a princess there. I can’t afford to dream of a prince though.

Ruby opens the door for me. “You okay?” She widens her grey eyes at me and tosses back her thick auburn hair. It reaches down to her waist. “What happened? Did you cry? Eavan, what happened?”

I enter the house and remove my trainers. “A jerk happened.”

“I told you not to go.”

“I just wanted to make you smile.”

I go to the lounge and collapse into the blue sofa, elbows propped on my knees, a few wisps of my hair clinging to my face. A coil spring digging in my ass.

We have to get rid of this ancient sofa as soon as possible. The furniture by the wall is in an even worse condition. Well, this is the whole beauty of renting a house-one has to be happy with the ugly and old furniture. And with the walls. They’re always painted in magnolia silk emulsion.

Ruby sits next to me. “What happened?”

“An invitation to the party happened.” I raise my eyes to meet hers.

“What?” Her jaw drops and she looks at me as though I’m a clown in a circus.

“You heard me. Your favourite singer has invited us to his party for some mysterious reason.”

“What?”

“You heard me, Ruby. Seafra’s invited us to his party.”

“We can’t go.” Fear shadows her porcelain face and she puts her palm on her freckled cheek. “I can’t go. You go. I can’t go.”

“You can go. This will be a small private party and he’s going to sing for you.”

Ruby’s lips curl into a timid smile then she shakes her head. “No.”

“Yes. We’ll go, have fun for an hour like two normal people and then come back here.”

“We’re not normal,” Ruby says with sarcasm.

“We’ll pretend that we’re normal for an hour, okay?”

She nods at me and her face lights up. Fear and excitement wrinkle her expression and I know there is a battle inside her. “Okay,” she squeaks. “Okay. Let’s go.”

I throw my arm over her back, pull her to me and kiss her temple. “One hour.”

“One hour.” Ruby’s body shivers against mine and pain courses through my heart.

“Don’t be nervous. Everything will be fine.” I stroke her head like I’m soothing a frightened animal.

She nods several times and curls into my chest.

The wall clock shows 7.30 pm so I raise myself and go to the kitchen to grab a glass of water then have a shower. Ruby orders a taxi and we go through the front door of our house at 8.40 pm.

My sister’s decided to wear a dress. The strapless top shows off her full breasts and the wide 50s hem lies gracefully atop a black petticoat.

“You look beautiful,” I say as my throat tightens at her courage.

“I look horrible, but thank you. It’s a party so we should wear dresses.”

I scan my black top and jeans. “Well—“

“Yes, dresses, Eavan.” She purses her lips into a horseshoe and looks at me sternly.

“Okay.” I can do that for her even though I hate wearing dresses. They make me feel exposed, vulnerable and I hate that feeling.

I run upstairs to slide into a black dress. This is for Ruby. Passing the mirror hanging on the wall in the corridor, I correct the sleeves and the purple clutch bag under my arm. The open back of the dress exposes my snow-white skin. Well, I look like a corpse, but that’s fine, desirable even-no man will pay attention to me.

My heart jumps up to my throat. For some mysterious reason, Seafra noticed me. Well, he must like corpses.

Seafra

I see a taxi stopping in front of the house and watch her get out of it. A wave of relief washes over me, liberating, weakening, then my heart starts beating faster and a hunter’s instinct awakes inside me. I will have her tonight.

Coyote shoots me a glance of pity as I pass him and go to open the door. The voices of the people gathered in the living room turn into droning to me. The music irritates my ears and Alice blocking my way irritates me even more.

“Hey,” she says in a sweet voice, twinning her fingers with her ginger hair.

She’s my lay each time we have a concert in this town. Her rich daddy owns the house I’m in, but he’s always travelling on business so Alice can enjoy partying with us. She’s twenty-five, but has no occupation. Her life passes with shopping, gossiping with her two friends, Laura and Claire who are her age, and partying.

I’ve always had weakness for redheads, freckles or not. My experience with them has always been intense and funny.

Alice knows what to do; her mouth is filthy enough, her throat has been trained enough to make me want her more than once. Not tonight though.

I want only Eavan tonight.

“Hey,” I say and pass her as though she’s a cheap canvas on the wall.

“Seafra,” Alice shrieks as the doorbell rings.

“Not now,” I growl and pull the door handle as Alice emits a sigh and walks off.

The door creaks open and my eyes slide over Eavan then travel to the girl clinging to her arm. My heart feels like a cold hand is squeezing it.

Fucking hell. I am an asshole. The worst kind. Pain jabs my chest like a needle as my glance meets Ruby’s. Her face winces and she trembles as though she wants to escape.

“Come in, sweetheart,” I say and step forward, grabbing Ruby’s wrist. “We’re here to entertain you. Such a beauty like you needs proper entertainment.” I pull her to me, wrapping my arm around her waist and help her into the house.

I don’t know whether I’m doing the right thing or not, but Ruby has two prosthetic legs and I don’t want her to trip over.

She walks in with a springy elegance I didn’t expect and I guide her to the living room through the hall. Her white walking stick clicks against the floor. Her nervousness touches me with the stiffness of her movements, the heaviness of her breath, the panic in her wide eyes. As we walk under the crystal chandelier, passing a row of antique side tables, I stroke her back.

“We don’t eat chicks like you,” I say. “We entertain them.”

“Thank you for inviting me to your party,” she says with studied politeness and giggles.

“You’re welcome.”

Alice wasn’t thrilled to learn that two more girls would attend the party, but she didn’t protest. She never protests. Her patience for me sometimes makes me wonder if she is in love with me. I’m not in love with her. She’s just my lay.

We enter the living room and ten pairs of eyes stare at us. Ruby jerks her body back but I immobilise her with my arms around her slender waist.

“This is Ruby,” I say loudly. “We’re going to entertain Ruby properly, right people?”

Coyote salutes me and moves closer to us, his jaw muscles twitching. He takes Ruby’s wrists and leads her to the sofa as Hale pours her a glass of orange juice.

It seems like my band can behave like gentlemen when necessary.

Ruby drops into the sofa, supported by Coyote who settles himself next to her and strokes her arm as I turn around and fix my eyes onto Eavan.

“You should have told me,” I say, taking her bag and putting it on the armchair.

“Now, you know,” she says. “We have one hour.”

“Only one hour?” I explode.

“Only one hour.” She looks at me as though she’s not here but somewhere else, in some gloomy place far from here. In a place I can’t reach her.

“How are you?” I ask.

“You promised her a song. And the autograph.”

“Right.” I back up and roam my eyes over the room to localise a guitar. “Where is my guitar?” I jut my chin towards Hale.

Hale rummages around the room to find it and bends, picking it up from behind the corner of the cupboard then hands it to me. I sit on the floor in front of Ruby as her curious eyes lock on mine.

“Which one do you want?” I ask.

“Whisper,” Ruby says and flashes me a timid smile.

“Sure,” I say and nod at her several times. “Good choice.”

It’s a ballad and I wrote it myself.

“My favourite,” Ruby says.

“It seems like I wrote it just for you,” I say.

Ruby chuckles. “We didn’t know each other when you wrote it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I wink at her. “It’s a special song for a special girl. For you, Ruby.”

Ruby puts her hands on her lap and freezes like a sculpture as I sing for her.

Eavan

He has a good vocal, so touching that I’m mesmerised. I’ve never attended any of his concerts and neither has Ruby, but I listen to his music each time she plays it. His husky voice gives the song an intriguing edge as the words of the ballad fill me with pain and sadness. And with an eerie beauty. They bring the images of a harsh landscape to my mind, mountains, wild rivers, dusk layering the world in indigo and ashen colours, a mist slithering above the ground, sparkling as though some Elves have touched it with magic. Two crystal chandeliers hanging from the beamed ceiling, a stone fireplace and antique furniture add the unique dazzling aura to this experience.

Seafra finishes singing and three girls standing behind the sofa clap. One of them, a ginger, shoots me a murderous glance. I glance back like my intelligence is non-existent and fix my eyes on Ruby. It doesn’t concern me that none of the girls has introduced themselves to me yet. Only Ruby concerns me. And we’re leaving in half an hour.

Ruby is so happy she can’t move. The guy sitting beside her throws his arm around her back and pulls her to him, whispering something into her ear. She giggles and shrinks into herself. The guy buries his face into her neck and I stifle my urge to slap him across the cheek. Then I feel grateful. He’s treating my sister like he hasn’t noticed her prosthetic legs replacing her amputated legs down from above where her knees should be, at all. Ruby giggles again and catches a rapid breath as her companion tries to merge with her, rubbing his thumb against her lower lip. I suspect he’s kissing her neck. Yes, he is kissing her neck in a very naughty way.

I’ve never seen my sister in such an intimate situation. The novelty of this experience frightens me, excites me, stabs me then fills me with melancholy and brings nightmares to my mind. They course through my head like deadly flashes-faces, darkness, pain.

Seafra puts the guitar in the corner of the room and stands in front of me.

“Happy?” he asks and smirks at me.

“You should be happy,” I say. “You did something altruistic.”

“Why are you so harsh with me?”

“The autograph,” I say and step back.

I just fucking want you to stay away from me, no offence. That’s all.

“Have a drink first and I’ll sign anything you want,” he says.

“I don’t drink alcohol.”

“So maybe a glass of apple juice or coke?”

“We have to go.”

“Come on, Eavan.” He spreads his hands. “It’s nice here, isn’t it?”

“We have to go. The autographs.” I raise my forefinger, pointing it to Ruby and the guy embracing her.

“He will behave,” Seafra says. “I promise.”

“If you say so—“

“Relax, Eavan. It’s nice, isn’t it?”

It’s nice, but I can’t relax. Ruby and I shouldn’t be here. Not to mention that now all three girls standing in the opposite corner of the room glare at me as though they want to murder me.

“Your friend is touching my sister’s breasts,” I say angrily. “Tell him to stop or I’ll slap him.”

Seafra backs up and exchanges a few sentences with the guy clinging to Ruby then returns to me. “Everything sorted.”

“The autographs.”

“You’re so—“

“The autographs.”

“Okay,” Seafra says. “Come with me.”

I nod at him then move closer to Ruby. “I’ll get the autographs for you and then we’re leaving.”

“So soon?” the guy next to Ruby asks. “I’m Coyote, by the way.”

“I know,” I say.

“Yeah, right,” he says and nods, “but we haven’t shaken hands properly.”

We shake hands as I shoot him a murderous glance and somebody’s arm seizes me around the waist. I straighten abruptly to sink into Seafra’s embrace. He’s standing behind me, his chest pressing against my back and his breath puffing into my ear. The ginger shoots snaps of lightning towards me with her pale blue eyes as the third member of the band moves closer to me.

“Hale,” he says and extends his arm to shake hands with me.

“Eavan.”

“I know,” Hale says and winks at me then corrects his long brown hair tied on the back of his neck, scratching his unshaven face.

The guys are nice which hits me like a hammer, all of them. Seafra is too nice though. I take his wrist and wiggle out of his embrace as Ruby sends me a bright smile and nods at me. My own sister is a traitor, but she’s enjoying the party so I can try to enjoy it too.

Seafra clasps my hand in his, our fingers entangled, and pulls me behind him as our glances meet.

“So,” he starts.

“So take your hand off me.”

“No.”

We move towards a wide stairwell, a red flowery carpet covering the steps soft under my feet. The voices from the living room fade as we climb and immerse ourselves into the darkness of a long corridor.

“Do you live here?” I ask to interrupt the awkward silence between us and attempt to tear my hand away from his.

He makes me feel weak, helpless, at his mercy.

“Sometimes,” he says in a dry voice, squeezing my hand.

“So you shouldn’t piss off your host by paying attention to another girl.”

“Maybe I want to piss her off to the point where she stops inviting me over.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Maybe I want to stop being an asshole from now on.” He kicks an ornate door open and we enter a room serving as an office. Two antique desks stand by the wall as a bookcase filled with leather bound books makes me think of the past. The smell of old wood and paper settles in my nostrils like an exhale from eternity.

Seafra kicks the door shut and his hand hooks the back of my neck. He stands in front of me, leaning over.

“The autographs,” I shriek, my heart racing in my chest.

“You little temptress.”

“I—“

“Who are you, Eavan?”

“Seafra—“