I’m tired and annoyed at tonight’s events and I have no release after my attack. Luckily, the past few times they’ve happened I’ve either been home or close enough to run. I usually spend hours in the shower, washing it away. Literally. I overthink everything, every tiny detail and now I’m second guessing Liam and his motives. Paranoia usually sets in with a vengeance in times like these, usually I can hide away for a day or two while I get myself in check. There definitely has never been a time where there has been a man involved with one. Why do I care? Suddenly what my body wants, and what my mind needs becomes clear. My head is pounding as my blood tries to regain a normal flow around my body. Mixed emotions about Liam swarm around my brain cells, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to be feeling. The anger bubbling away in my gut is winning over everything else, even being this close to him is infuriating me slightly. At a million and one miles an hour my mind remembers how much of arrogant idiot he was a few short weeks was ago, and how he’s turned that around to me wanting to sleep with him. After he left my flat on Friday my mind was awash with the different possibilities of why Liam would want to sleep with me. Coming to the conclusion that it must be to do with business made me uneasy, why else would a man like him be with a woman like me?
“How where you there tonight?” I chance a glance in his direction and his eyes turn thunderous.
“I told you, I was out with some friends” Turning his beautiful face away, he huffs out a breath and shakes his head. I can’t help but feel like I ruined his night, and I want nothing more than to shrivel up into a ball and hide. Awkward silence fills the car until we’re pulling into the parking garage at my building, I pull the door handle to jump out when Liam grabs my wrist gently, but I instinctively jump. I hate that I react like this, I wish I could just switch it off, but my body has other ideas. I turn to face him questioningly and he sighs.
“I own a few clubs and bars around London. You just happened to be at both tonight. Becca told me you were going to be at the bar” My eyebrows shoot to the top of my head in surprise, and I nod my head in approval, thankful that he answered my unspoken question. Ah. That’s why the bartender acted strangely when he bought our wine! I had no idea he owned any nightclubs or bars. But then why would I know? I shake the thought away and edge out of his cars warm, leather embrace.
“I’m sorry…” I start to say quietly before hopping down to the concrete of the garage floor.
“Stop apologizing Amelia” he scolds, not moving from his seat.
“Thank you for bringing me home” my voice is still scratchy against the palm of my hand, and I try to swallow it away.
Liam gives me a soft smile before asking “Are you sure you’re okay?” he still hasn’t moved from his driver’s seat, and the concern in his eyes melts me into a puddle. I can’t remember the last time someone looked at me with so much affection in their eyes. He looks nothing like the demanding man I’ve come to know. Jekyll and Hyde come to mind. Bitter memories return, that evil reminder telling me that no one really cares enough about me, they just put up with me. It doesn’t usually bother me, but when I have an attack the feeling of loneliness hits me like a wrecking ball. I turn my head away, willing the damned tears away, but before I can react Liam is by my side pulling me into his embrace.
“I’ve got you” he whispers against my hair, and I cling to his overcoat pathetically. Small sobs escape my dry lips as tears stream down my cheeks. My chest heaves in bursts as I struggle to contain myself, the anxiety pouring out of me now that I feel safe in his strong hold. I wish for nothing more than to be able to melt into his chest. I could burrow into his slabs of muscle and never emerge. I could be held safe and warm against his skin and watch on as life filtered past. After a few minutes of letting me blub into his rock-hard chest, Liam pulls away slightly, his head bowed allowing me a watery view of his baby blues. The night has clearly taken its toll on him too, his chestnut brown hair ruffled and falling slightly from his usually perfect quiff. “Come on, let’s get you inside before you freeze” he instructs before pulling me slightly towards the lift with his arm draped across my shoulders.
Still wrapped in his one arm, Liam takes my keys from my shaky fingers and lets us into my flat. A beautiful wall of heat slams into us as soon as we step inside, and I can’t help but eye Liam as he closes and dead-bolts the door. Relief washes over me as I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding and the reality of tonight hits me like a ton of bricks. I rub my chest trying to ease the pain that’s stabbing itself between my ribs, when Liam grabs my arm and tugs me towards my bedroom. Really? Sensing my unease, he turns to face me as we walk down the hallway,
“Are you sure you don’t want to involve the police?”
I nod enthusiastically before he nods once. “Let’s get you get cleaned up then”
“I…can manage” I stammer. I miss his touch instantly when he lets me go in my room. I turn to face him slightly before going into the bathroom. Please don’t leave.
“I’m not going anywhere” he says quietly reassuring, before sitting on the edge of my bed. I offer him a small smile before going into my bathroom and shutting the door behind me. The bright spot lights bounce off the cream tiled walls, the tiny shards of gems hidden within them bounce the light around the room. I used to love them, but the instant I catch sight of myself in the huge vanity mirror I wish I had different lighting. I strip out of my clothes, shoving them straight in the bin under the vanity. No one likes those memories attached to clothes, besides it’s just an excuse to buy more. Turning the shower on I wait a beat for it to warm up, but not before I catch a full glimpse of myself in the mirror.
My hair resembles that of some punk-rock kid, all tufted at the back, the beautiful curls from earlier all tangled into knots. My makeup is somewhat non-existent, only the black of my mascara creating panda marks around my eyes is visible. The cut on my neck is only small but looks worse than what it is. I leave Liam’s handkerchief on the side, covered in spots of sticky blood. I don’t think I’ll need stitches, but I do need to clean it. Luckily, I’m up to date on my tetanus shots, fuck knows where that blade has been. Turning slightly, I catch a glimpse at my back, only to see a few purply bruises and grazes there too. Sighing, I step into the steamy shower, letting the boiling water fall over me for a few minutes before reaching for my favorite rose-water soap. Upon closing my eyes, all I can see in their blackness is evil, cruel memories. The pounding sound of the water rings in my ears louder than it should, mixing with the roar of my own blood and blocking out any remaining hold I thought I had on reality.
“Listen to your mother!” he shrieks as I try to pull away. The leather gloves he’s wearing burn the skin around my wrists, and I can’t throw him off. Swinging my legs out and off the dirty mattress on the floor, I catch his shin hard enough for him to fall. Shrill laughter fills the air as he grabs my ankle just before I make it to the door. NO! My legs fall out from underneath me, and I brace my arms to catch myself. Only, I’m not quick enough. My nose crunches against the solid wood, sending sparks of pain across my face. The coppery taste of blood filters into my mouth as the pain spreads like wild fire through my head. Searing pain tears through my scalp as he grabs my hair from behind, pulling back once before sending my head forward again, colliding with the floor with such brute force I black out.
My legs give out and I brace myself against the tiles before falling to the floor. The water cascades over me, leaving tiny droplets on my skin before turning into swirls of pink at my feet, washing away the blood from my beaten body. Bringing my knees up and wrapping my arms around them in a protective embrace, I let the demons take over. It’s the only way to ever get past them. If I fight they come back harder, every day at random times, every night giving me some of the worst night terrors that not even sleeping pills have helped. I fight so hard during my day to day life because I’m so weak otherwise. I can’t fight these demons; my soul is too weak. Closing my eyes again I welcome them.
The pain. Oh god it hurts. Please! No! I shout but no sound comes out. Open your eyes! Move! Kick them off! My broken arm screams in pain at the bent angle above my head. Held down by a black masked man. My legs are ripped open, split too widely as my underwear is ripped from my body. No! Please! Where’s mum? Why isn’t she helping me? Amelia…. Amelia…. Amelia! “Amelia!” I flinch at the touch and snap my eyes open.
“Amelia! You’re going to burn!” Liam turns the shower off, bringing a towel into the shower and wrapping it around me before sitting on the wet floor next to me. I slouch into his arms, still covered by his shirt. Biting back the sobs escaping my lips but failing miserably. After a few more silent minutes, I sit up slightly, looking into his eyes, “You’ll get wet” I croak. No emotion passes across his taught features, but he tightens his grip around my waist. “I don’t care” We sit like that for a while, the only sound in the room is our labored breathing, it’s so calm I don’t want it to ever end. Numbness courses through me, my mind included, and I’d love nothing more than to stay in this cocoon for a while. Any embarrassment that I would usually feel for being this weak and this naked in front of him is gone, just like everything else. I can feel my eyes closing, welcoming the comfort of Liam’s arms, keeping me safe. Liam shifts under me, and I go to move before he stops me.
“I’ve got you” he whispers before standing with me in his arms and carrying me into my bedroom. Those three words are the most meaningful I’ve ever heard, but I force myself not to believe them. I know deep down that he will leave eventually. I lay my head on his shoulder, too weak to argue with him. Too overcome to care that he’s seeing me at my weakest. Sitting me on the edge of the bed, he heads for my drawers looking in each of them before he finds what he’s looking for. Bringing an oversized jumper over he offers it to me before turning away. What the hell must he think of me? Why did it have to happen tonight? “Done. I’m so sorry Liam” I whisper, but it’s barely audible thanks to my cracked voice. My hair hangs wet down my back, so I bring the towel up to dry it slightly, standing from the bed and heading for my window. I hear him before I see him, and I still jump slightly at his touch. I hope to god this attack finishes soon, it’s draining.
“Hey” he objected quietly before coming to stand behind me. So close that I can feel the heat bouncing off his wet body. Without touching me again, he bends slightly to my ear, so I feel his breath there. “Don’t you dare apologize. Let me look at your neck, do you have a first aid kit?”
I clear my throat before turning my head to meet his eyes, “kitchen” I croak, needing a drink. His expression still hasn’t changed, his beautiful face pulled tight by tension and concern and I can’t help the guilt I feel for putting that look on his face. I finish toweling my hair before making my way to the kitchen to find him. A steaming mug of tea is placed on the coffee table for me, along with the open first aid kit.
“Sit” he demands, pointing to the sofa. I do as I’m told and wait for his next instruction. Coming to his knees in front of me, he places the kit beside me on the sofa before pulling out some antiseptic wipes. The sodden fabric of his shirt has turned transparent, making my insides quake at the sight of his nipples underneath. How badly I wanted tonight to end differently.
“Are you up to date on your tetanus?” he asks, his eyes never leaving my wound. I can only nod. The panic attack subsiding, but my nerves fried at what he must think of me. Him being this close and this kind isn’t helping. It is, of course, but I can’t tell him that. I feel pathetic and I hate myself for ever letting myself be so weak. The first wipe stings and I can’t help but wince.
“Sorry. I don’t think you’ll need those stitches” he offers a small smile, before continuing with some cream and a medium size dressing.
“Thank you”
“Let me see the ones on your back” he demands, moving with me to sit behind me on the sofa. I inch my top up my back, careful not to expose anymore skin than is necessary and wincing slightly as the fabric catches the grazes. Liam takes his time cleaning and applying balm to the fresh cuts, and I shudder as his fingers glide over my scars. Small flecks of silver mark my skin from where I had to be stitched up. My ribs, my arm, a lot of my back after being dragged over splintered wood floor. I pull my top back down and turn around.
Coming to sit beside me after moving the box to the table, he turns to face me slightly after handing me the tea. I blow the steam from the top before meeting his eyes, waiting for the questions he’s bound to ask.
“Stop it” his authoritative voice almost booms around the otherwise quiet room. I glance at him, clearly a little shocked that he hasn’t asked how I got those scars. He sits with one leg bent and resting by the ankle on his opposite knee, he looks relaxed, something I wouldn’t expect if he was going to sit here judging me.
“You know what. Stop beating yourself up about this. None of this was your fault, so don’t give it a second thought”
I sigh, lowering my eyes to the mug in my lap.
“I never wanted you to see me like this. I hardly know you” I blurt. The one thing I thought could have been a little fun, is now in tatters. Why would he want to be with you after this? He wouldn’t! that little voice is off again, hurtling horrid words around. That’s the killer I learnt quickly, if you listen to it, it will ruin you. Smashing you into a world that can’t be fixed, your self-esteem is all you have, and you have to believe in yourself to get anywhere in this world.
“Amelia look at me” he demands quietly. I can’t help my body’s reaction to him, but my eyes instantly find his.
“Talk to me”
“Liam…”
“I understand, I’ve heard talking can help with attacks” his voice is like a soothing salve across my nerves. I want to question what he means by understands. How has he heard talking helps? A million questions fly through my brain, but I shove them aside, there’s enough going on up there for one night.
I suck in a breath before coming, gingerly to my feet. I walk over to my floor to ceiling windows, taking in the twinkling lights of the otherwise dark city. It means nothing doesn’t it? Money. You can come from nothing, have nothing but still be wealthy. You can be wealthy and have everything and still be poor. I always thought if I could dig my way to the top everything else would fall into place, the friends the family. I hadn’t considered the possibility of work taking over my life so much, that I would never have the chance to build the rest. Here in my so-called home, I feel lost. Alone. I come to sit on the rug beside the window, resting my back against it before meeting his midnight blue eyes.
“It’s strange isn’t it” I start before clearing my throat. “How some people are born wanting to help others, to make sure their friends and family have everything they will ever need. But then others are just awful people, evil wastes of space” I take a sip of my tea, relishing the warm liquid as it flows down my throat.
“Are you talking about work?” he asks, eyeing me carefully. I huff a laugh, “I wish I was”. Leaning forward on his knees, his eyes turn darker as he clears his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he does, the muscles in his neck are taught with emotion and I hate again that I caused it. I didn’t cause tonight, though did I? All of tonight’s events where out of my control
“Amelia, talk to me. If you won’t then I can call someone else, but I’d like you to talk to me. I want to know what’s eating you. Fuck if I’d had my way, tonight would have been so, so different” he shakes his head from side to side. “Seeing you, dressed like that, you looked fucking beautiful” His low, dreamy voice fills the quiet room and I feel myself blush a little. “All I could think about all night was dragging you back home and having my way with you. I couldn’t concentrate on a single thing my bar manager was saying when all I could see was you dancing” he laughs a little, and I can’t help the small smile that spreads on my lips, as heat rises up my otherwise pale cheeks. “Seeing you with another man though…I’ve never been the jealous kind. It was too dark to notice him at first, but he’s become a wanted man around the clubs for spiking women’s drinks” he informs me quietly. I scrunch my eyes closed at the mere idea of what could have happened had Liam not been there. “I like you a lot, the fire you have in you, I don’t know what the fuck that means. I know you can sense the pull we have. Your will power is clearly stronger than mine. Call me whatever, but I’ve never chased a woman like I have you. Seeing you in so much pain, makes my blood boil. Please put me out of my misery so I know how I can help” he takes a deep breath, his chest rising to an even larger scale.
It takes every nerve in my body to stop myself from throwing my arms up and around him and burrowing as deep as physically possible into his safe embrace. Through it all, my cheeks continue to warm at his beautiful words, and I know he notices because he smirks a little. That little boyish smirk, along with the cutest damned dimple ever makes him look almost carefree. The way his shoulders are hunched over, making them stretch out even further, he’s most definitely a force to be reckoned with. The numbness I was feeling earlier slowly starts to ebb away as feelings for this man creep back in. Oh, how I wish tonight had gone his way, I wanted him so badly this morning, and I probably would have let him, had he not been called away.
“I need something stronger” I urge, getting to my feet and heading to the cabinet under the Tv. Pulling out two whiskey tumblers I flash one Liam’s way in silent question, earning a brief nod. Handing a half full tumbler to him I walk back to the window, unsure of how to start this. My brain is a jumbled pile of cells, but his words put power into my system I never knew I needed. Scrunching my brow, I turn to face him.
“So, you own a few companies then?”
“Yes” he hisses slightly through his teeth as the heat of the liquor burns his mouth.
“Sorry, I buy quite strong stuff” I shake my tumbler at him.
“I got that” he huffs out a laugh before continuing.
“Who were you talking about Amelia?” he changes the subject back to me, and I let out a shaky breath. Let’s just get this over with. No beating around the bush, I like things easy and straightforward. Believe me I know that contradicts everything in my career, but I like things in my personal life to be as simple as possible. This isn’t simple. It never has been, not really.
“My mother” I take a swig of my whiskey, relishing the burn it leaves in its wake. I love the hard stuff’s ability to numb you from the inside. I don’t make a habit of drinking it, but when needs must, it’s an essential. Sensing that he’s waiting for me to continue, I sit against the rug again before meeting his soft eyes. Rolling the tumbler between his fingers, he waits patiently for me to start.
“She was a drug addict, heroin, meth you name it” I take a deep breath while Liam nods encouragingly. “I was addicted to heroin when I was born, but my grandmother helped my mother raise me, so I wasn’t put into the system, or at least that’s what she told me” I watch for Liam’s expressions and his brow furrows, but he remains silent. “After a few years my grandmother thought everything was okay, she got older and struggled to visit as much so she didn’t see the full extent of things. My mother used to make me tidy up when she knew Gran was coming. It made it look like she was coping, that she didn’t need any help. I managed until I was sixteen, to live with my mother. Evil cow would never let me live with my Gran, no matter how many times I asked”
I recall the time when I’d asked again if I could go and stay at Gran’s house, and how hard she’d slapped me. I’d run into my room, to the mattress on the floor and cried myself to sleep. I was seven.
“I would do everything she asked, cook, clean, stay out of her way. I even got a paper round to help pay our bills, but she took the money I earned and spent it on drugs” I take another swig of the amber liquid, turning my eyes away from Liam now.
Memories of a younger me, scrunched up in the corner of my old bedroom, desperately trying to get warm with the thin, moth eaten duvet I had. It’s strange looking back on it, it’s like looking in through a window and seeing myself for the very first time. A shiver runs through my body as if my very nerves remember exactly what it felt like being so cold. “It used to get so cold in that flat, I didn’t even have a proper duvet to keep warm. My bed was a dirty, old mattress on the floor. I knew it wasn’t right, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t have many things, the gifts my gran had sent me for Christmas or Birthdays where always sold for drug money, anything that couldn’t be sold I could keep. I was bullied for years because of her, but I could never leave her. I couldn’t run away. I think deep down I secretly wished she would change, and the fact that she wouldn’t let me leave made me think she needed me more than I needed her.”
I chuck the last of my whiskey back before I turn my eyes away again. The burning amber liquid sets my stomach on fire, burning away old memories bit by bit.
“The men she used to bring home scared the living day lights out of me, god knows what they could have done to her” I laugh out loud at that part. After what she let them do to me, I hate myself for ever giving her a second thought.
“She didn’t care about me at all, told me countless times when she was high how she wished she’d had an abortion. I think the only reason she realized I was of any use to her was when I started to bring more money in. I used to hear her every night, having sex and then passing out from either alcohol or drugs. I knew she was selling herself to pay for her addiction, but I believed her when she told me it would get better” I rub the empty tumbler through my palms, chancing a glance at Liam, who’s face is filled with thunderous fury. “When I was sixteen, she sent me to my room which wasn’t out of the ordinary. Her addiction had gotten worse, she was using more than she ever had, she even spent the money I had stashed for food. I hadn’t eaten anything for days. I was reading a book I’d stolen from the school library in the light that came through the window, because our electricity had been turned off again, when I heard the shouting. It wasn’t unusual, but this sounded different. I got up, headed out to the living room” I swallow past the bile in my throat, deciding to skip out on the details.
“My mother hadn’t been giving her pimp his cut of her money, and he had teamed up with her dealer who she also owed money to. Long story short they wanted their payment in any way they could get it” Swallowing again, I force myself to meet Liam’s baby blues. A whirlpool of emotion I found myself clinging onto before I continued “They beat me up pretty badly, I had bruises and broken bones, but I managed to run away. That’s how I have the scars on my back. The last time I seen her, she was out of her mind on meth, sprawled and lifeless on the floor.” I choke on the sob threatening to escape my lips, when Liam storms over to me in two quick strides.
“I…I don’t know what to say. Fuck! How…?” Coming down to my level on the rug he gently holds my shoulders in his strong hands, gently massaging them, he urges me to continue. Figuring that I’ve already come this far, I start, “They beat the shit out of me. Broke several ribs, my arm, I had countless cuts and bruises, but I got away eventually.” Pulling me into his arms, he holds me tight. “Did they get sent down for it?” he asks quietly against my hair. I suck in a harsh breath at the realization that they’re still out there. “No. I never told anyone” Liam stiffens beneath me, before pushing me back slightly to see my face. “What? Why the fuck not?”. I wanted to tell him everything, to let the words fall out of my mouth and lift the weight that’s been on my shoulders for years. To tell him how I wasn’t just beaten. How I was internally beaten too. How I never told anyone what really happened, not even Becca. I can only shrug in his arms, I didn’t want to talk to anyone at the time. I still don’t want to talk to anybody. I was so ashamed of who I was, and where I came from. It was the assault that made me want to push for a better life, and I hate how it still controls me. I feel deflated, somehow lighter now that I have finally told someone other than Becca about being beaten. A yawn escapes me, and I cuddle further into Liam who’s still wearing his damp clothes.
“What about your father?” he murmurs against my hair.
“I never knew him. My mother would tell me I was like him, but not in the good way”
We stay like that for a few minutes before Liam inhales, his damp chest rising beneath my head.
“Come on, let’s get you to bed” his voice is a hushed whisper against my hair.
I get into my plush bedding, removing the oversized pillows scattered across it. I overindulge on the soft furnishings to make up for the lack of them in my past, when I notice Liam lingering. Panic sets into my chest at the thought of him leaving. “Please don’t leave” I whisper quickly, sounding more desperate than I’d like to. A flicker of pain flashes across his beautiful face, and I hate that I’m putting it there repeatedly. Walking over to the bed he places a gentle hand on my nape before placing a kiss on my forehead. “I won’t sweetheart” he whispers against my skin. If I wasn’t so wound tight I know those three words would have melted my insides. I nod briefly before I lay down and get as comfy as my bruised back will allow. Liam walks towards the wingback chair in the corner, before turning to face me.
“Do you mind if I strip down to my boxers? I’m soaking” he huffs.
“Oh, Of course! Sorry, I have a dryer if you want to stick them in there?” I smile apologetically. This is not the way our first night together should be going.
“Thank you” his voice is gruff in the darkness. I watch him silently as he unbuttons his shirt. Why the hell did I tell him it was okay to strip? I absentmindedly chew on my lip as his gorgeous body comes further into my view. Damn this man is a fine specimen.
“Stop it” his scolding voice cuts through my wondering thoughts like a butter knife.
“What?”
“You know what” His piercing eyes glitter in the moon light through the window. After kicking his slacks off he heads out to the kitchen where I hear him turn on the dryer. A soft whirring noise filters through the flat, before he shuts the door to my bedroom. Silence fills the air as he walks back towards the chair, grabbing my throw from the foot of the bed and sitting there quietly. If my mind was quieter I would have loved seeing him naked. Or the best part of. But I can’t bring myself to enjoy his fine physique when I don’t feel sexy in myself.
“You can sleep here if you want?” I whisper. Hoping that I don’t sound too desperate. Or needy? I don’t know. I just know it isn’t good guest etiquette to leave him sleep in an upright chair all night.
“Go to sleep Amelia. I’m fine” I’m sure I heard him growl too.
“Thank you” I croak before he gives me a small smile. “Go to sleep I’m right here if you need anything”. I close my eyes knowing I’m safer than I have been in years, the darkness consumes me, exhaustion taking over, and I fall into such a deep sleep I dream of nothing.