Release (26 page)

The journey back to the city is quiet. The radio is
on, but there’s no conversation, a complete contrast to the drive going to
Hillsborough. Even Nathaniel’s quiet, but he’s distracted by the toy Elizabeth
brought him back from Italy. From the driver’s seat, Saffron keeps looking at
Dane through the rear view mirror.

As he sits gazing out of the
window, it feels like we’re not even in the same car. He’s so immersed in
thought. I’m not sure what’s on his mind, but I don’t like this distance
between us. I shift over slightly and lean against his arm. Closing my eyes, I
rest my head on his shoulder. He takes my hand in his. Simultaneously, our
fingers interlink and our holds tighten. How such a simple action can make a
girl feel a million times better? Now it’s as if the car has shrunk and we’re
the only two here.

Moments like this make me
feel as though Dane and I are unbreakable.

Saffron stops outside Dane’s
apartment block. “Have a good night you two,” she says as we climb out.

We walk into the building
hand-in-hand, and Dane’s no longer thinking. He’s relaxed and generally his
normal self.

As the doors to the lift
close, he looks down at me, by his side. “You cool staying here tonight? You
don’t want to go home, do you?”

Panic attack alert! Where
the fuck has this come from? “No. Why? Would you prefer it if I did?” I’m
astounded. I make a conscious effort not to cling to his hand for dear life.

“No, I’m giving you the
choice.”

Speechless, I turn my gaze
from him, focusing on the gray steel ahead of me, wondering why he said that.
He doesn’t seem like he wants me to go home, but why would he ask?

Our ascent halts and the
doors slide open, but I don’t move. “Would you like me to go?” I ask, returning
my attention to him. 

“I just wanted to give you
the option. I never do.”

“I don’t want you to.” This
is so unhealthy. I know it is. “Maybe I should go. What’s wrong with you,
Dane?”

“Honest to God, I’m just
giving you the choice.”

The doors have closed, so
Dane pushes the button to open them and leads me out.

I can’t decide whether to
stay or go. Maybe he finds us too intense. We are intense, but until right now
it seemed to be what we both wanted. Maybe I should give him space. Maybe I
should spend more time at home with Leona and Kayla. They haven’t complained,
but maybe that’s because they both have boyfriends. But they don’t spend every night
with theirs. I probably should stay home sometimes. I feel thoroughly fucking
confused now.

Fuck it, I’m going. I’m not
staying if there’s even the slightest chance I’m not welcome here. After next
weekend, when I’m in L.A., I won’t have the choice, anyway, so I may as well
start getting used to it.

I walk into the apartment
ahead of Dane. When he closes the front door, I turn to face him. “I think you
might be right. I should go home,” I say, giving absolutely no indication of
the disappointment or the uncertainty I feel. Turns out I’m still quite good at
pulling off the,
everything’s all right
act.

His brows knit in
consideration. “Is that what you want?”

No
. “Yes. I’ll just grab my makeup bag.” I turn and walk
to his bedroom, with my boots still on – screw his lovely carpet.

Being needy really isn’t
attractive. Maybe that’s the problem, I’m too needy. I’ll have to seriously
work on that.

When I return, Dane’s still
by the door. Thankfully, my car is outside, so I can just get the hell out of
here and go home. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow,” I say.

I kiss him once on the lips
and hug him. He holds me for longer than I intended on us hugging for. I don’t
allow myself to focus on it, the feel of him, otherwise I won’t leave. When he
lets go, I can’t read his expression. It seems neither of us desires me to go,
but maybe we need to do this. Who knows?

Either way, I’m going.

I arrive home, and neither Kayla nor Leona is here,
though, I don’t know why I thought they would be. It is Saturday night, after
all. I could Skype Mum or Tommy; it’s around eleven a.m. in the UK. Dad will
probably be around, too. Yeah, I’ll shower and do that. Anything that keeps me
occupied until I can sleep will suit me just fine.

As I pad into my room, I
hear the front door open. I step back and catch Kayla entering.

“What are you doing here?
Didn’t you go to Hillsborough today?” She walks to me.

I force my lips into a
smile. “Yeah, I just got back. I’m staying here tonight.”

“It’s Saturday!” she says,
like I’ve committed a criminal offence.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to
play it as though I don’t care, when I abso-flipping-lutely do.

“Go get something sexy on.
You’re coming with me.”

“I’m fine here, honestly.”

“I don’t care what you are.
I’ve come to get changed and then I’m meeting Chase and the others. We’re
clubbing tonight, so go get ready.”

Maybe a night out is just
the thing I need. “Okay, I will.”

This might do me the world
of good. I can even wear the new peach colored mini dress Mum sent me this
week. It’s tight, high-necked, backless and sexy. Fuck it! I might even let
myself get drunk.

Bring on the cocktails!

Life was so much easier before I met Brooklyn Scott.
Admittedly, in most ways, it’s better now, but I swear I’m going insane. It
took everything out of me to let her walk out that door.

Why does it feel like my
attempt at doing the right thing by her was the worst thing I could’ve done?

I go and take a blistering
hot shower to distract my thoughts. It almost works for the duration of the
activity, but then I’m right back to thinking. Always fucking thinking. Shit, I
need to get out of this place.

I head to the bar where I
know the guys will be. When I arrive, I find them sitting at a table right at
the back. Gerard does a double-take when he sees me. Damn, is my face really
that rare now, or is my presence just that unexpected?

“Hey, man, what you doin’
here?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Don’t
ask.”

“I’m getting you something
to drink.” He’s up and heading for the bar before my butt even hits the seat.

I sit down at the table with
Adam and Joe, taking off my jacket.

“How’s Beth?” Joe asks,
across from me.

“She’s good, really good.
Had a blast in Italy with Isabel and Vanessa. She loved Brooklyn.”

“Talking of Brooklyn, what
you doin’ here?” Adam, sitting to the right of me, asks.

“I don’t even know where to
start, shit is fucked up.”

“Alcohol and your buddies is
what you need, brother,” Gerard says, as he places four Buds on the table.
“That’s all you need right now. Fuck everything else.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” I
came here for a distraction, not to talk about Brooklyn. I don’t even want to
think about her.

“Hey, isn’t that your girl’s
friend?” Gerard asks, sitting beside Joe.

I look behind me, in the
direction of the bar, which isn’t too crowded. “Yeah, Leona.” I turn back to
the guys.

“She’s hot,” Gerard says.
“What’s she doin’ with that dude? He looks like he could use a hairbrush.”

I laugh at him. “Shut up, man.”
He actually looks serious. “She’s better off with him than she is with someone
like you.”

“So!”

“Stop lookin’ at her like
that, she’s Brooklyn’s friend.”

I’m supposed to be not
thinking about her. What the fuck is going on? Now I’m wondering if she’s home
alone. What in the hell am I supposed to do? I’m trying to give her space, but
that is seriously messed up if she’s by herself.

“I’ll be back in a minute.”
I get up from my chair and head over to Leona and Xavier, who are waiting to be
served. “Hey, guys.”

“Hi, Dane,” Leona says,
smiling wide. Xavier and I nod at each other in greeting.

“Is Brooklyn home?” I ask
Leona.

“No, she’s out with Kayla.”

“Good. That’s good.”

Maybe I did do the right
thing after all, if she’s doing something other than being with me.

I buy Leona and Xavier a
drink and another round for the guys and me – even though I’m yet to have my
first – and head back to the table.

I feel better now. Although,
I’m hoping that when Leona tells her that she saw me, Brooklyn doesn’t start getting
silly ideas in her head. She’s the most complex person I’ve ever met. Of
course, she’s the first woman I’ve been this close to in a long time, but damn
she confuses me.

Back at the table, I set the
beers down, pull out my cell from my back pocket, and text Brooklyn as I sit
down.

[Sweetheart, enjoy your
night out with Kayla. Call me if you’re not going home together and I’ll come
get you. Otherwise text or call me when you get in.]

Leaving my cell on the
table, so I’ll see an incoming call or text if I don’t hear it, I reach for my
Bud and suck some down.

“Saffron spoke to me before
I left the house,” Adam says. This shit is never ending.

“Of course she did. She
doesn’t need to be concerned about anything.”

“You know how she is, she’s
worried about you.”

“I told her not to be when
she text me a couple hours ago. Obviously that wasn’t good enough.”

“She’ll be more worried when
she knows you were
here.”          

“I know. She’ll question me
tomorrow, and no doubt Brooklyn will, too. Fuck, I can’t even breathe.” 

“Why would Brooklyn question
you?” Joe asks with genuine interest.

“She gets all insecure
sometimes. She doesn’t trust me.” I can’t believe I’m sitting here having this
type of conversation. It’s not what I came out for.

“Why doesn’t she trust you?”
Joe looks confused.

I’m finally experiencing the
whole
what goes on behind closed doors
thing. To everyone outside, we
probably seem perfect. I think we are in many ways, but what people don’t pick
up on is Brooklyn’s insecurities. They see the confident side to her. They and
she have no clue about the kind of shit that goes through my head – that’s
another door altogether.

“She knows all about me,
doesn’t she? It seems to be a problem sometimes.”

Although, I’m not entirely
sure the problem lies solely with me and what I’ve done. Her shit runs deeper.
Or maybe it is me. Fuck it! Alcohol time. I tip my bottle to my lips.

“Tonight we’re getting
wasted, brother,” Gerard states. “Fuck all that shit with Brooklyn and Saffron
until tomorrow. We’re following these beers up with something that stings on
the motherfucking way down. We’ll start off with something tall, dark, and damn
tasty, and I’m not talkin’ ‘bout that smokin’ hot chick over there. Though, I
wouldn’t mind ending the night all up in her.”

“Shit, let’s do this.” This
is
exactly
what I need tonight.

Right, so things are a little blurry now and I don’t
even know how many fucking cocktails I’ve had. Gerard’s a bastard when it comes
to these things.

“Man, I miss our single
days. Fuck, we had some good times,” Gerard says. He knocks back the last of
whatever that shit is he’s drinking.

“You need to figure your
shit out, motherfucker,” Adam says to him.

“Boy, you’ve been
pussy-whipped your whole damn life. Fuck that,” is Gerard’s response.

“If putting my wife first
and treating her like the queen she is makes me pussy-whipped, then I’ll
fuckin’ own it – I’ve got nothing to prove. You should try it sometime,” Adam
says.

“What the fuck is in this?”
I ask Gerard, holding up my glass containing a green colored something. I lost
track right after the Sake Bomb. Or was it the Mai Tai?

“I can’t disclose that type
of info, sorry, brother. Who’s for another?” he asks, getting up from his
chair.

“Nah, I’m done,” I tell him.

“Me too,” Joe says.

“One for the road. I’ll
choose.” Like he didn’t choose every single one so far.

“Don’t give me the same
thing. Just get me a Bud,” Joe says.

“Make that two,” I say.

“Don’t get me anything,”
Adam says.

Gerard heads to the bar and
he’ll bring us back whatever he decides he wants to.

Five minutes later, four
glasses of whisky land on the table.

“Guess who’s here?” Gerard
says to me, as he sits down.

“Who?”

“Dude, I said guess. Here’s
a clue. She fucks like a demon bitch.”

Adam laughs. “How the fuck
do you know that? Ah shit, don’t answer, I can figure it out myself.”

I look behind me, scanning
the bar. It’s quieter now. Shaking my head, I turn back. “He doesn’t know
shit,” I tell Adam.

“I’d totally love to fuck
the shit out of her,” Gerard says. He homes in on me. “Don’t you miss that?”

“What?”

“The freedom to take that
ass anytime you like?”

“No. Why the fuck would I?”

“Where do I start? Not that
Brooklyn ain’t hot. For sure she is, and she’s got that sexy accent going on,
but all this stress. Mia never stressed you out, and you’ve been fucking her
for
years
. Brooklyn’s been on the scene two minutes and she’s messin’
with your head.”

“You have no clue,” Joe says
to him. “It’s not the same thing.”

“Mia doesn’t even compare to
Brooklyn,” I say, though Gerard really wouldn’t have a clue what I’m talking
about.

I knock back the Jack and
embrace the sweet heat in my throat. “Fuck me.”

“Yes, please,” a female
voice I know all too well says, coming up behind me. “How’s it going guys,” she
says, putting on that slow, seductive tone she uses when she wants to get her
way.

Next thing I know, Mia’s
hand slides across my upper back, under my locks, and rests on my opposite
shoulder. Her hip presses up against my shoulder that’s closest to her.

“Mia!” Gerard says,
grinning. “What’s up, girl?”

Joe leans back in his chair,
cupping his hands behind his head. His lips curve wide, the fucker wants to
laugh. I’d like to know what the hell he finds so funny.

Reaching up, I gently move
Mia’s hand off of me. I’m pretty damn sure that was pushing the boundaries.

She pulls up a chair and
sits down, at the head of the table, between Joe and me. “Just in town for a
couple days, working and visiting the folks. What you guys up to tonight?”

Forearms resting on the
table, she leans forward attacking us all with her alluring perfume that
reminds me of ... fuck what it reminds me of, I don’t give a shit. And I don’t
need to look at her to know what she’s displaying, sitting like that.

“Ah, just hanging out, you
know? Man talk and all that,” Gerard says.

What the fuck is this shit?
Joe and Adam snicker. I’d really like to know why.

Mia’s gaze slides from
Gerard to me. “How’s it going, Dane?” She’s using that voice again.

“Good. You cool?”

“No, not really. Somebody’s
taken my favorite man away from me.”

“I wouldn’t call it taken, I
was more than game.”

“More than game,” Gerard
pipes up. “He’s all pussy-whipped now, kisses at the end of text messages and
shit. He’s completely off the market.”

“Ain’t that a shame?” Her
stare lingers on me. I can almost feel her desire.

She already knew the
situation, I made it clear to her when she text me weeks back. This is a woman
who always gets what she wants. Definitely not in this case, though.

“Goodnight, Mia,” I tell
her.

Smiling, not at all
offended, Mia leans close enough to whisper in my ear, “I’m still gonna think
about you when I fuck myself. Let me know if it doesn’t work out.”

Up she gets and off she
glides like a cat in heat that has all the time in the world.

There was a time that talk
of hers would’ve had me hard in seconds. Now all I feel is suddenly sober and
ready to head home. 

Gerard chuckles. “Man,
that’s
restraint
. Weren’t you even a little tempted?”

“Why would I be? Thanks for
the backup, anyway.”

“Cool, we’re buddies, we
stick together, right? I figure that might get me some good karma also.”

“You’ll need to save a
country to make up for the shit you’ve done.”

“I’m not that bad. C’mon,
I’m not. This is all for the greater good.”

“If ever there was a deluded
motherfucker it’s you,” Adam says to him.

“And kisses at the end of
text messages?” I ask. “Is that the type of shit you do?”

“Hell yeah – some chicks
like that. Makes ‘em feel nice. I figured you did it with Brooklyn.”

“No. A period or
occasionally an exclamation mark at the end – nothing more, nothing less.”
Brooklyn doesn’t either, she just puts in those emoticon things. I’m conflicted
over whether to object to his pussy-whipped statement. Adam made quite a good
point. Fuck.

Joe leans forward, folded
forearms resting on the table. “I’ve never seen you look so awkward, man,” he
chuckles, “shit.”

“I’d have a hard time
convincing Brooklyn that having a woman draped all over me like that was
innocent on my part, if that shit got back to her. Especially if she found out
we have history. It was only hours ago Leona left here. You know yourself
people are way too quick to talk.”

I grab my cell. No messages.
It’s two-thirty a.m. I call Brooklyn and go straight through to her voicemail.

As we step outside the bar,
the cool breeze strikes my face. Walking home might be the best idea. The four
of us fall into stride with no spoken agreement. Rewind a few years and three
of us wouldn’t be heading home alone, as we are right now. Rewind just a few
months and that would still be the situation for Gerard and me.

Random bullshit is the focus
of conversation as we walk. We don’t live in the same neighborhood, so the guys
will get a cab at some point. We approach a night club with a bunch of people
standing outside with their backs to us. We thread through the collection of
bodies and continue down the street.