A Flawed Heart (8 page)

When I brought her to my bedroom, she wanted to hear me play
and I couldn’t hide the emotion. For some reason, Claire just pulls a torrent of
feelings out of me. When I finished playing I could see the effect it had on
her. I could fucking taste the electricity between us, and it was just too
much. Kissing her and touching her made me feel so much desire. She fell asleep
in my arms as we talked on the fire escape and I felt like I could stay there
with her forever. Being with her brought me peace—a feeling I’m always chasing
after. I’ve tried to find that peace in music, in books, in girls. I haven’t
felt it in so long. Not until Claire.

I text Lydia.

Where
are you?

She writes back immediately.

Working in the studio.

I drive over to Withers Street where her studio co-op is.
When I walk in, she turns to me, her face and canvas apron are covered in
smudges of clay.

“Hey, brother.”
She greets me and
turns back to her work.

I remain at a distance, too fired up to get closer. “Lydia,
what the fuck is your problem?”

She stops working, a metal sculpting tool in her hand held
like a weapon. “Don’t start with me,
Jason,
it’s for
her own good.”

“How do you know what’s good for her?”

“I know that it’s not
you
.
She’s a sweet girl, Jason, she’s
my
friend and I’m not
gonna
let you fuck her and toss her like you do with every
other girl.”

I don’t want to fight. I want to explain, so I lower my voice
and relax my tense posture.

“It’s not like that this time Lydia. I feel something, for
her.”

“You
feel
something?
Really?
Are you sure it’s not
Little Jason
who
feels something for her?”

I smile at her ridiculous reference. “First of all, never
use that nickname for a man’s anatomy. Second, I’m fucking serious Lydia. How
could you make her promise not to see me? She thinks she’s being a bad friend
to you. She feels like shit.”

“I’m trying to save her some heartache. I didn’t want to
talk badly about you to her. I had to think of some way to keep you from
hurting her. And I hate to break it to you, but
when
you break up with
her, I will serve as nothing but a painful reminder of the hurt you caused.”

“You’re not a fortune teller Lydia. You can’t see how this
is going to end.”

“I don’t need to be a fortune teller to know that she’s
gonna
follow you around like a puppy until you get bored of
her. I’m not blind to the effect you have on girls. It’s not like I gave a fuck
about Skye, but how long did that last, like ten days? I saw her Jason, she
looks like death.”

“I’m telling you, this is different.
She
is
different.”

“Different? She’s pretty special, Jason.
Innocent.
I don’t know. Listen, I love you more than anything and I want you to be happy,
but I can’t watch this broken heart parade continue. I don’t want to bring this
up because it hurts me too, but ever since mom died, you’re just…you’re
disconnected. I know how close you were with her. I know it destroyed you. The
only people you let inside are Ben and I. You barely speak to Dad. The only
time I see anything real come out of you is when you play. Do you really want
to drag Claire into this shit? Do you want to break her?”

“It’s not
gonna
be like that this
time.”

“Yeah?
Well, I’ll believe it when I
see it.”

I walk home and grab a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black and a
glass head to my bedroom. I grab my acoustic and step through the window, out
onto the fire escape. My intention was never to hurt these girls, I don’t know,
maybe it was. Maybe I was seeking some sort of revenge on the world. It
certainly wasn’t all bad. I made them all feel serious pleasure…and then I dropped
them. Lydia’s right. They mean nothing to me. All of them meant nothing.

But Claire is different. I just met her and I don’t want to
be apart from her. It’s been like two days, and I can’t get enough of her. I
finish my drink, light a cigarette, and sit back. I have lyrics pushing and
pulling around in my head. I close my eyes contemplating what Lydia said.

I start to strum, finding a melody to fit the words that are
forging their way into a song. When I finish writing,
its
dark out.

I get a text from Lydia.

Headed over to Pen party
tonight…I’ll be with Kat and Claire.

I need a fucking
shower. T
he hot water brings me out of my whiskey-induced fog. I let the
water run through my hair, not bothering to wash it with shampoo. I grab the
soap and wash my chest. My thoughts turn to Claire and I stroke my cock…

She’s here in the shower with me. I run my hands up her
stomach, over her tits and tangle my fingers in her wet, dripping hair. I pull
it and yank her head back to give me access to her neck. I kiss it as she rubs
her body against me, digging her nails into my shoulders.
I turn her around. I rub my hard
cock against her ass and pull her hips toward me with one hand while sliding
myself into her with the other. She gasps as I invade her sweet warmth.
Her
skin is soft and slick, her breath is quick and broken with whimpers. I slam
into her again and again. She grasps at the walls and I push into her deeper
and deeper, again and again. She curses and moans. I feel her squeeze as she
comes…

I revel in the release I’ve needed. I towel off and dress in
dark jeans and black converse. I pull on a short-sleeved, snug, white
button-down shirt. I run my fingers through my short hair, put on a little bit
of cologne, and sling my guitar case onto my back.

I text Ben.

You going to Pen tonight?
Want to get a drink first?

He replies…

Yeah,
I’m
goin
’. At Alexa’s with Alana now. Come here.

The night is clear and windy. I don’t feel like walking, so
I drive over to
Alexa’s.
The familiar smells of old mop water
and beer soaked wood floors hits me as I walk in. Alexa’s face lights up and I
say hello. Ben’s playing pool with Alana. There are a couple of old regulars
and some girls here, but otherwise the place is empty.

“
Hey honey, how
are
ya
tonight?” Alexa asks.

“I’m all right. Can I get a whiskey and a Bud?”

“You sure can. Ben’s been here for a while. He seems to be
feeling no pain,” she smiles.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, don’t worry.”

I throw some money down on the bar and walk over to the pool
table, past one of the regulars slurring some incoherent bullshit at a table of
girls.

“What up?” Ben greets me, and Alana waves.

“Hey. I got next.” I knock my whiskey back and chase it with
half the Bud.

“So what’s up bro? I saw your sister and Claire at the café
on Bedford today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.
Lydia looked pissed. I
walked with Claire back to her place.”

My head snaps up. “You did, huh?” I can’t help that my eyes
narrow. The thought of her spending time with any guy, even Ben, makes me
crazy.

“Bro, when were you planning on talking to me about this? I’m
not fucking blind.” He walks away to shoot at the eight ball, sinks it, and
returns.

“I don’t want to get into this.”

“Don’t even try to play it off, Jason. You’re into her. I
saw you kissing her, and I see how you look at each other.”

I run my hands through my hair and over my chin. “What do
you want me to say? She’s fucking
smokin
’ hot. That
Southern accent is
so
goddamned sexy.
She’s cool. I don’t know. I just want to be with her. Lydia thinks I’m
gonna
break her heart. She’s pissed at me for getting
anywhere near her.”

“Yeah, I figured that, but I think you should go after her,
man. She makes you
smile,
bro; it’s been a long fucking while since I
saw you genuinely do that.”

“It’s been a long fucking while since I genuinely wanted to.”

“I’ll be right back, you want another beer?” he asks, and
pats me on the shoulder.

“Yeah.”

I pound the rest of my drink. Ben heads to the bar and Alana
heads to the bathroom. They’ve finished their game, so I stoop down and grab
the stack of quarters off the pool table and put them into the slot. I grab the
rack, walk to the other side of the table, and see that asshole drunk guy at
the table of girls. They look uncomfortable. He’s got a trucker hat and a denim
vest on, and his hair is graying. He looks to be around my dad’s age.

“Hey there, ladies.
You want a
little something to drink? You
feelin
’ thirsty?” he
says, in a lame attempt to hit on them.

I walk over to the wall to pick out a cue and out of the
corner of my eye I see the
drunk
asshole getting too
close to one of them.

“You’re real pretty. You want to come over to my place for a
drink? I’ll treat you real nice.”

He puts his hand on her and that’s about all I can take. I’m
sexually frustrated and pissed off at the world and I’m not about to watch some
douchebag harassing jailbait. I stalk toward him, pool stick in hand.

“Why don’t you back off? I don’t think these girls are
interested.”

His head wobbles as he turns to look at me. “Why don’t you
mind your business, you little shit?”

I step toward him, my face an inch from his. “Why don’t you
go back to the bar and let these ladies be, before I fucking make you, fucker?”

He cocks his fist back and swings at me. I step out of the
way, avoiding the weak blow. I spin around, swing my fist up, and catch him in
the gut. He bends down in pain, but jerks his elbow backward and bashes it into
my right eye. I stumble back and swing my cue stick, hitting him hard in the
back. He slumps forward and crashes into a table. I launch myself at him,
adrenaline pumping. I want to draw blood. I want to smash his fucking face.

Before I can get to him, my neck is ensnared in Ben’s
forearm.
“Chill out, Jay.
He’s wasted. Let’s just get
him outta here.”

Alexa approaches brandishing a baseball bat at the drunk. “Get
the hell outta my place. I’m not
gonna
have you
terrrorizin
’ these kids. Go home and sleep it off.”

The prick gets up, mutters something unintelligible, and
staggers to the door.

“Jason, honey, you’re
bleedin
’.
Come here so I can fix
ya
up.” Alexa motions for me
to step behind the bar.

“I’m fine.”

Ben releases me. I touch my fingers to my eye. It’s sore and
I feel the blood oozing out of a cut on my eyebrow.

“You’re
gonna
have a shiner, dude,”
Ben says.

He hands me my drink and I press the cold beer to my eye.
One of the girls approaches me like a little bunny rabbit. “Um, that was really
nice of you. Thanks for getting rid of that jerk. Is there any way we can repay
you?”

“No. It’s nothing. Don’t mention it.”

“All right, well, let us know.” She walks away swaying her
hips and her friends giggle upon her return.

Alana comes back from the bathroom. “What the hell happened?
I left for two seconds and all hell broke loose.”

“Jason, being the gentleman that he is, defended those
little ladies over there.”

“All right, well, finish your drinks and let’s get going. I’m
not in the mood for any more drama,” she says, shaking her head.

I slam my beer back in two gulps and head to the bathroom to
look at my eye. It’s swollen and there’s a dark bruise forming just underneath.
The cut on the eyebrow is deep, but it stopped bleeding, so I won’t need
stitches. There’s blood on my white shirt. I push through the bathroom door,
take out my cigarettes, and place one between my lips. I leave it unlit and
walk to the front where Ben and Alana are waiting.

“All right.
I’m driving. Let’s go
to Pen.”

Chapter Five

~Claire~

“I’m really sorry.” Kat covers her face and apologizes
profusely after walking in on Jason and me making out.

My head is spinning. “It’s fine.
Really,
Kat.”

“So, are you guys together, or are you just hooking up? Do
you not want to talk about it? Does Lydia know?”

“Lydia told me to
lay
off. I don’t
know what’s going on. I mean, I like him. I don’t know. I just met him, but I
think about him constantly. He’s just…” I shake my head. I can barely form a
sentence after kissing and touching him.

I lie back on my bed and drape my forearm over my eyes,
trying to come down from this high.
He
said he
wanted
me. Jason
wants
me.
I’m dizzy just thinking
about it. Just kissing him sent me into
a frenzy
. I
can’t imagine what it would be like if we ever move further.
Lydia is going to
freak. I’m really messing this up.
I sit up and force the thought out of my
head.

Kat goes into Lydia’s room to get changed and I check my
phone.
No calls. No texts.
Kat
tries on absolutely everything in Lydia’s closet. After a half hour, she emerges
in a torn Led
Zepplin
tour shirt and jean shorts.

“Come into the kitchen. I’m making us dinner.”