LIV

 

“He’s disappeared.”

“What do you mean, disappeared?”

“Not in the literal sense,” I answer, glaring at myself in the mirror.

Dragging my fingers through my hair and following the movement with my eyes, I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and bite down harder than my nerves can stand. As the tears spring free, I stare at my reflection, knowing the only dipshit I’m trying to kid is myself. The emotion is a direct result of my pain, but not the pain currently caused by the trickle of blood that’s blossomed from my broken skin.

“I don’t understand. I thought you reconnected? I thought he admitted his feelings? That you both did.”

My finger hovers over the round red button on my iPhone. I tremble, fighting the need to cut Helena off. I don’t want to talk about this… I need to talk about it… but I don’t want to.

“Liv?” Her voice booms out of the loudspeaker and bounces around the silent room. “Liv, don’t you dare cut me off!”

My body hangs limply from the chair as I lean back, and the tension slowly discharges from my limbs. Permitting a small grin, I’m relieved my friend knows me well enough to call me on my bullshit and pull me out of my own head even if it is from miles away.

“Liv?” She’s on the verge of a meltdown now.

“I’m here.” The steady strength my voice usually exudes is sorely lacking as verbal sawdust trickles out instead.

“You may be there, but you’re not okay, are you?”

I sigh. “No. I’m not okay, but I will be… I swear.”

“Liv, remember who you’re talking to. I know how you feel about him. Tell me he hasn’t broken you?”

I swipe the small line of blood that has travelled down my chin. Hissing when my thumb makes contact with my torn lip.

“Hel, I appreciate your concern. Honestly. The truth is, I don’t know where he is, all I got was a quick phone call. Apparently, he had to go away for a while.” I shrug at myself in the mirror, not sure who I’m explaining Isaac’s actions to. “He said it was for work and he didn’t know how long he’d be gone.”

“What about the two of you?” she demands without hesitation.

“I don’t know.”

“Olivia.” Helena’s voice is low and serious. “You must have asked how long? Where he was going? What that meant for the two of you?” She fires the questions, becoming more enraged with each one.

Picking at the blue paint on my nails, my eyes flick to the phone then back to my nails. “I asked. He didn’t know.”

“He didn’t fucking know?” she screeches.

Moving around the fifty or so bottles of nail varnish on my dresser, I find my favourite red while smiling at her reaction. I’m due at work in two hours. I want to repaint my nails, and I have to get ready, so this phone call needs to wrap up. “Hel, calm down.” I can hear her huff, and I nibble on the inside of my mouth so I don’t giggle at her. “He said it was related to work, that he had something he couldn’t get out of, but he has no idea how long it will take.”

“Well, how fucking long can whatever he does take?”

I pinch the top of my nose and close my eyes. “He said it could be a week, a month, or could be six, he doesn’t know.” Before she gets a chance to interrupt me, I continue wanting to get this over with now. “He told me he doesn’t expect me to wait for him.”

“He what? That… fuck me,” Hel whispers.

“Yeah. I’m not sure exactly what I’m supposed to make of that tidbit. I almost wish he’d asked me to wait, but he didn’t.”

“Bastard,” she seethes.

“Look, can we talk about something else? How’s your nan?” I change the subject, not giving her time to argue.

“She’s doing really well now, she’s much better.”

My chest eases a little at Hel’s news.

“That’s great.”

“Yeah. It means I’ll be back in the next few days. We can have a movie night with ice-cream and cake and alcohol.”

I chuckle at her suggestion, but she knows I’ll be totally down for a girly night in.

“How’s things going with Noah?” I question, and she squeals. My tattooed, angry, practically emo friend squeals. What the fuck?

“He was texting me, and we were messaging a lot. Then we started talking on the phone. God, Liv, I only met him a few days ago, but I feel like I’ve known him for ages. We’re going out when I get back.”

I smile at my phone. “I’m really pleased for you.”

“Me too, but he’s so… clean.”

I snort out a laugh at Helena’s disgust with Noah’s lack of tattoos.

“That just means you could give him his first, leave your mark.”

Helena hums down the line. “Wow, I never thought of that,” she replies almost dreamily.

“Right, I gotta go get ready for work. I’ll speak to you later, babe.”

“Later, Liv.”

Turning, I press the remote for my iPod dock. Lady Gaga’s ‘A Million Reasons,’ blasts to life, and I finally release my bottled-up tears. I want to say Isaac hasn’t broken me again, that I’m not crushed, but I don’t even know what’s happening—if anything—between us now. All I know is my heart aches, and hope is an evil emotion.

 

 

Bright red fingernails match my lipstick. I add another layer to my mascara and the black winged eyeliner and double check my outfit. Most nights I have underwear on, covered by some novelty clothing… well, usually. Tonight, though, I’ve got a long, skin-tight red dress. It leaves nothing to the imagination, and apart from my five-inch red stilettos, the only piece of clothing I’m wearing is a sheer red thong. I’m going all out. A tiny voice in my head says I’m rebelling. I know Isaac hates me working here, but by wearing so little, I’m sending him a big fuck you—that would work better if he actually knew. But I’m ignoring my innermost thoughts right now. Instead, I’m striding out and sticking two fingers up to everyone, Isaac included.

I like to be different, I always have. Stripping for me is just another way I can show my personality. While the other strippers choose fast, sexy songs, I like to think outside the box—mostly. So, ready to sashay onto the stage, I nod over to Allegro, giving her the signal to start the song I picked today.

I breathe out. Placing one foot in front of the other, I slowly ease onto the stage as Aretha Franklin croons ‘Ain’t No Way.’ The spotlight finds me as I stand at the mic pretending to sing—miming for the act. I can’t see the audience tonight, not with the light in my face, but I don’t need to, this act is solely for me. They have no idea I could sing this live if I chose to, and I wouldn’t suck either. But, as every word leaves my mouth—not silent, but still unheard over the original—Isaac consumes my thoughts. I feel torn apart, ravaged, cut down, like there’s a piece missing from my soul.

I sway sexily at the beginning of the song running my hands up and down my body with the words, holding my wrists together above me trying to fall in line with the lyrics. I wait for the chorus to end, then start bending over, running my hands down my legs. I grip onto the hem of my dress and slowly pull it up my body and over my head, revealing myself. I sing the last verse—how I can’t love him if he won’t let me—with tears running down my face and nothing but heels and a thong on. There is a roar of applause when the song finishes, enough to make me almost lose my balance. Carefully spinning around, I stride off wishing that Isaac could have heard that song, listened to the lyrics, and felt my pain.

 

 

ISAAC

 

If someone attacked me now they’d win. There is little doubt in my mind. My body is frozen. Painfully so.

I stepped away, explained that I needed to work on something, that I had no choice. If I didn’t do what they asked, I’d never be let out of my contract. I might be physically close—now we’re both in London—but I need to keep my distance so she’s not thrown under the bus, especially with the current assignment. I tried to ease her hurt as much as possible. I said I’d find her when I was able, but I couldn’t say when that would be.

Easing the fists my hands have made, I throw back the whiskey I ordered and stand to leave. It was a mistake to come here, to watch Via on stage again. I hate that she works here. I have no right to demand anything from her. She’s mine, but even so, I should have stayed away. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I guess a song, stripping, and seeing men gawking at her fucking beautiful body. What I got was a knife straight through my heart. Watching her singing that song, I know she wasn’t miming. I know she was feeling every word. The torment was like a storyboard across her face, every telltale look—I’ve never forgotten a single one—played out in her eyes.

Pulling myself from my thoughts, I start to walk toward the exit. A flash of red catches my eye, and I stop to look across the room. Via leans over the bar and talks to the barmaid who passes her a bottle of water. She turns and starts manoeuvring backstage when some prick grabs her wrist and pulls her back. My feet move before my brain has engaged, and as I get closer, I can see him mauling her tit. My brain switches off. Every sane thought is lost in the haze of anger, and every little thing I’ve ever been taught about keeping calm and managing a situation dissipates like smoke.

Thankfully, before I get there, Via has wrenched her arm from his grasp and slipped away. I can still see him though, and I can tell what he’s thinking. Glancing around to make sure there are no bouncers, he slips along the passageway after Via. Moving faster, I catch up to him, and his yelp of surprise is the only thing that escapes before I pin him to the wall, my finger and thumb at his throat either side of his windpipe. He can’t speak, he can’t breathe. I watch as his lips start turning blue, and he scratches at my hand.

“You don’t look at her, you don’t get anywhere near her, you don’t breathe the same air as her. You certainly don’t fucking touch her. Give me an indication you understand me,” I grind out, malice lacing my every word.

His eyes widen, almost like they’re bulging out of his head, but there’s no way I’ll let go until I know he comprehends my threat. Tears form in his eyes spilling over and racing down his cheeks. There’s a tiny movement, one that most wouldn’t notice, but being that I have him pinned, I am watching for it. I grin and release my grip. He falls to the floor and immediately covers his throat with both his hands. I know he can’t speak, but that works for me as I crouch down next to him.

“If you ignore my warning, I’ll come back. Next time I won’t be so lenient. Are we clear?” I ask still sporting a small grin.

He looks up at me, his face red, still holding his throat as tears continue rushing from his eyes, but he nods fervently.

“Good to see you’re being amenable, that works in your favour. Now get up and go, don’t stop for your friends, don’t stop to grab your coat, don’t stop even if someone calls you. Leave. Never come back and never go near her again.”

I watch as he scrambles to his feet and practically runs away.

Closing my eyes, I breathe in through my nose. I need to get over the satisfaction of what shit like this does for me. The darkness is still in me, and Via doesn’t need that. She needs better than me. Cleaner than me.

I remember the sadness in her eyes from earlier. I put that devastation there. And right now, I can’t deal with it on top of my own agony. So, like a coward, I’m walking away to deal with my current life, but this fucking time, I’ll come back when it’s over.