Surrender my Heart (The Subzero Series) (2 page)

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E
very time I feel like a fool in my
tuxedo I look over at Tyler and Noah and thank god my hair isn’t electric blue
or fire engine red. The sight of the two of them brings a smile to my face.

Today is the best day I’ve had all week,
which isn’t saying much because my heart still feels like it’s been shattered
into a million pieces and I have yet to talk to anyone about it. The closest I
came was when I was drunk the other night and made some comment to Tyler about
fiancés and Chloe being the reason I couldn’t go home. He’s still badgering me
to open up about it but so far I’ve managed to keep it to myself, although I’m
willing to bet he has already found out what happened from Abby.

I wish there was some way we could get
out of this charity thing but our plates have already been paid for so I’d feel
bad about wasting that money. Normally, I wouldn’t mind going to this sort of
thing, but I know I’m going to see her. What do I do? Do I say hi? Do I ignore
her? Do I chat her up like we are still friends? No, that one won’t work.

I walk into the ballroom and glance
around. There’s no sign of her but all of her friends are here. I wonder if
they know yet. Jocalyn turns and waves enthusiastically at me. Nope, there’s no
way she knows. I offer her a polite smile and a small wave. She gives me an odd
look but, thankfully, doesn’t come over.

“You’re Jack Riley aren’t you?”

I turn towards the voice and find myself
face to face with a group of middle aged men.

“Yes, sir, I am.” I reply.

“My daughter is a huge fan! Mind if I
trouble you for a picture? She’ll die when I say I’ve met you.”

“Sure.”

I stand next to the man, who throws his
arm quite aggressively around my shoulders before reaching his arm out and
snapping a picture of us with his cellphone.

“How are things with your band?”

“Good,” I say. “We are finishing up our
latest album and pray we will be offered the opportunity to do a tour at some
point.”

I feel an arm wrap around mine and
frown. I knew it wasn’t Chloe. There’s no way she would show me any kind of
affection after the way I broke things off with her. I turn my head and look
over at the tall, willowy blonde that has attached herself to my arm. She looks
gorgeous but, then again, she always does.

Too bad she fluently speaks a very
unattractive form of snob or she might make a good rebound.

I shake my head in disgust. I can’t
believe I just thought that.

“Hello Jack.” She says, her voice
dripping heavily with seduction.

“Hello Julissa.”

She squeezes my arm tighter and pouts
out her lower lip. “I just heard a rumor that you and your girlfriend broke up.
You must be positively heartbroken. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you.” I say, cautiously trying to
figure out where she is going with this.

“You know, she wasn’t right for you. I
think you and I –“

“Julissa?”

“Yes.”

“Could you do me a favor?”

She moves in so close to me that there
isn’t a sliver of room between us. “Oh, anything baby. What can
I
do for
you
?”

“Well, for starters, you could get your
arm off of me and then you could sod off.”

“Oh, you don’t mean that!”

She rubs her hand up and down my arm and
I look around the room hoping to find some way to get away from her. I
immediately lock eyes with Chloe and my heart stops. She looks so beautiful it
literally hurts. I wish things had been different. I wish she would have been
honest with me about Connor. Of course, then I would have been one of those
poor schmucks pining for the girl he can’t have. Her eyes zero in on Julissa’s
arm around mine and she looks as though she might cry.

“Excuse me a moment.” I say to Julissa
as I free my arm from hers.

She waves me away having already found
someone else to occupy her time.

I look back to see Chloe say something
to Abby before turning to make a beeline for the exit. She pauses to look back
once more and we stare at each other briefly before she turns to run out the
door. I walk over to where my friends are standing with hers. Everyone is
talking in hushed voices, trying to figure out what is going on.

“I’m not sure if you are a dumbass or a
moron.” Abby spits out as soon as I am close enough to hear her without her
causing a scene.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Look, she’s the one –“

“Yeah, yeah whatever,” Abby cuts me off
and rolls her eyes. “You’re the one that decided it was better to dump her like
that instead of listening to her side of the story.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“Care to act like a man and get over
yourself Jack?”

“Is she coming back?”

“No, she’s walking home.”

“You guys are letting her walk home by
herself?”

“That’s what she wanted and we are
respecting her wishes.”

I shake my head and toss my keys to
Tyler.

“Get my truck back home?” I ask.

He nods.

“Are you going to talk to her?” Abby
asks.

“No, I am just making sure she gets home
okay. Someone needs to.”

Abby opens her mouth but I turn and walk
off before she can say anything else.

––––––––

T
he sound of three obnoxious male voices
wakes me up the next morning. I glance at the clock and groan. Ten thirty. When
was the last time I slept this late? Of course I don’t think I actually passed
out until sometime early in the morning. I feel like death stumbled upon my
body and used it as a punching bag.

After I followed Chloe home, keeping a
far enough distance that she didn’t notice me and I didn’t look like some creep,
I ended up getting completely pissed on whisky – bloody awful drink. I don’t
know why I keep subjecting myself to it.

I stumble bleary eyed into the living
room where Tyler, Noah and Dean are sprawled out watching the telly.

“What the bloody hell?” I ask, rubbing
my hands over my eyes.

“Good morning, sunshine. Grab yourself a
delicious cup of coffee and join us please?” Tyler pats his hand on the cushion
next to him.

I grab a mug, pour some coffee in it and
slump down on the couch.

“So what is this?” I ask again.

“An intervention.” Dean says.

“Because of the Jack Daniels? My word it
was one night! Well, two if you want to get technical and count the other
night.”

“No, it’s because of Chloe.”

My body immediately tenses up. “I don’t
want to talk about it.”

“Then don’t but you at least need to
listen.” Noah says.

I roll my eyes. “I already know?”

“Know what?” Dean asks.

“That Chloe’s engaged.”

“She’s not.” Noah says quietly.

“Ah but she is. I met the bloke. I saw
their engagement announcement.”

“Did you ask her about it?”  Dean asks.

“For what? It’s the same story. Boy
meets girl, boy is smitten and thinks girl is too. Then - bam – boy finds out
girl is married or engaged. Boy ends up brokenhearted.”

“Jack, she’s not Court.” Tyler says.

“Gillian.”

“Pardon?”

“Courtney’s real name is Gillian.”

“Whatever. Chloe isn’t her. What you did
was so wrong.”

“Tell me how then. How is she so
different? Is it because she was just engaged and not yet married?”

“Chloe isn’t engaged. She was at one
point but they broke up,” Tyler says. “He was here because he was trying to get
her back.”

“Who told you that?”

“Abby.”

I sat there, staring at the telly but not
really watching it, with my jaw clenched tightly shut.

“Do you know the whole story?” I ask.

“I really think you should ask Chloe.”
Dean says.

“Well I’m not. I’m asking you guys so
either tell me or piss off.” I yell.

“Okay, okay I’ll tell you but you have
to promise to get your tightly wound knickers out of your bum.” Tyler says.

I give him a look and he throws his
hands up.

“Alright then, according to my lovely
Abby, Chloe and Connor were engaged for a few months before she walked in on
him shagging some actress from his crap play. Chloe gave him the ol’ heave ho
and a couple of months later she decided to move here where she met and fell
madly in love with you.”

“That’s the truth?” I ask.

“Well, I don’t know about her being madly
in love with you but as far as I know the rest of it is true. Why would they
lie?”

“Courtney – Gillian – did for an entire
year.”

“Yes, but that woman was evil. Is that
really what you think of Chloe?” Dean asks.

“No.”

“Then why on earth did you listen to
that codswallop? Why didn’t you ask her what happened?”

I sigh and lick my lips. “I started
comparing the situation to the one with Court – Gillian. There were so many
similarities and I just got angrier and angrier until I couldn’t see any
differences between the two anymore.”

“You realize that’s a shit reason
right?” Noah asks.

I shrug. “It’s all I’ve got.”

I set my mug down on the table and scrub
my face with both hands.

“Shit...I’ve really screwed things up
haven’t I?”

“A major cock up on your part. It’s
nothing that a lifetime of groveling at her feet can’t fix.” Tyler says.

“So it’s settled now? You’re going to go
talk to her?” Noah asks.

I look down and shake my head. “No.”

“No?” The three of them exclaim at the
same time. They look at me like I’ve gone mad.

“Why not?” Dean asks.

“The things I said to her...it’s
unforgivable. I...I can’t.”

“You owe her an apology. You owe her at
least that much.” Noah says.

“I know and I will when I’m ready. I
just can’t right now.”

“You’re a wanker Jack.”

I’m not going to argue with that. I am a
wanker, among other things. I jumped to conclusions. I took the word of some
dithering fool over the one person I care about the most. I hurt myself. I hurt
her. She didn’t deserve the things I said and I certainly don’t deserve her.
Maybe it’s just better this way.

...

My phone rings Monday afternoon and the
words “Drayton McGuire” popped up on my display. I take a deep breath, tap the
accept button and press the phone up to my ear.

“Chloe?”

There’s a pause on the other end.

“No, sorry Jack it’s not. This is
Skylar.”

“Oh...what’s up Skylar?”

“I have some inquiries from tabloids
that I wanted to run past you so I could write up a statement.”

“Is Chloe not my publicist anymore?”

Please don’t tell me she’s handed me –
us – off.

“She is, it’s just due to the nature of
the questions, I offered to call you.”

“Oh...ok, uh, go ahead.”

“Okay, are you and Julissa Patton in a
relationship?”

My face blanches. “Good heavens no!”

“Were you her date to the charity ball?”

“Absolutely not! People actually believe
this rubbish?”

“Well, you were photographed there with
her attached to your arm. That gets people talking Jack.”

“Does Chloe believe this drivel?”

“Chloe doesn’t know what to believe.”

“I was not there with her nor do I have
any relationship with her whatsoever. She spotted me, latched onto my arm, I
told her to sod off, she thought I was joking and then I followed Chloe home.
That’s it.”

“Okay,” Skylar pauses again. “How are
you doing Jack?”

“Honestly...I’m a mess.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

––––––––

I
’m miserable.

It’s my own fault too which makes it
even worse. My band mates have had it with me. Every thought I have is about
Chloe. I find ways to work her into conversations – even when we are discussing
things that have nothing to do with her. The other day, Dean mentioned wanting
to play a little football and I said “Chloe tried to play ‘soccer’ once but she
was afraid of getting hit by the ball.”

Another time, Noah mentioned wanting to
go to the next Glastonbury Festival and I went on and on about how much I
thought Chloe would enjoy it. Finally they had enough.

“Call her or shut up. Just do something
to put us out of our misery!” They said.

I thought about going to her place a
million times but I always stopped myself. Now it’s too late because she’s on
her way to spend Christmas in New York with her family. I want to talk to her.
I’m ready to say what needs to be said but I don’t want to do it over the
phone. She’ll only be gone a week. I’ll just wait until she comes back. The
thing is though...I miss her...a lot. I miss how good she smells. I miss her smile.
I miss her laugh. I miss the sound of her voice. I miss the way she feels
against me.

It doesn’t help that Tyler is in New
York also so we haven’t been rehearsing or anything. I’ve been hanging out with
Dean and Noah, but without Tyler constantly barging into my flat, I’ve been
alone with my thoughts a lot more than I usually am. Add in the fact that I’m
not sleeping very well and that leaves you with tons of time for faffing about
in the sea of self-loathing and regret. It’s also given me time to reflect on
the past few weeks and this is what I have come up with...

I consider calling my parents and
telling them I’m not going to make it home for Christmas but I didn’t want to
upset my mum. I haven’t been home to see them, or my younger brother Joseph, in
quite some time. Maybe it will do me a bit of good to get out of this place for
a few days. The only downside will be spending a couple hours alone in the car
with only my nagging thoughts to keep me company. I’m only planning to stay at
most three days, so I grab enough clothes to last me one extra day and my
toiletries and I toss them into my rucksack.

After I get myself situated in my truck,
I plug in my iPod and scroll through it trying to decide which playlist suits
my current mood. I’m not as angry as I was a few days ago so I scroll past
anything that boasts heavy guitars, drums and screaming. I’m sad but I don’t
want to play anything that is going to depress me even more. I stop on a
playlist that I have only listened to once before. It contains a few albums of
an American singer Chloe likes.

I remember the day she introduced me to
his music. It was shortly after we came back from the weekend we spent at my
family’s cottage. It had been one of those rainy days where you just don’t feel
like doing anything at all. We were just lying about on my couch. There was
nothing on the telly so we decided to put on some music. Chloe grabbed my
laptop and was downloading a couple of her favorite discs to my playlist. She
kept going on and on about this one singer I just had to hear. She tapped her
fingers on a couple of keys and suddenly my flat was filled with the most
amazing acoustics I had ever heard.

“Who is this chap?” I asked.

“
This
is Matthew Mayfield. His
music soothes my soul.” She said.

I hit play and immediately feel myself
start to relax. Chloe was right. This music really does soothe the soul.

...

Christmas with my family was a nice
distraction though neither my head nor my heart was really into it. I think my
mum noticed because she tried talking me into staying through the New Year,
which she has never done before. I considered it for a moment before declining.
My mood seemed to be stuck in one spot and I didn’t want to bring anyone else
down or ruin anyone’s celebrations because I am being such a downer.

Plus it’s not like I’ll be completely
alone. I usually spend New Year’s Eve over at Dean’s and will likely do the
same this year. That’s not for a few days though and I need to find something
to do now take my mind off of things. I put on the telly but there’s nothing
on. I try to sleep but I end up laying there for hours while my thoughts are
running wildly through my mind. I need to do something to get them out. There’s
a notebook and pen lying on the nightstand by my bed. I grab it, open it to the
first free page I see and start writing.

Fall into my
Heart

Written by Jack Riley

Heart thumping

Heart breaking

Tears coming

Tears flowing

A love so strong

Felt like
shattering

When you took
that

Fall into my
heart

Caring so much
for a love

That seems to be
done

Thoughts
whirling

Thoughts
drowning

Aching to touch

Aching to feel

You fall back
into my heart

Eyes open

Eyes closed

Your image
always remains

Dreams fleeting

Dreams tormenting

Of your phantom
touch

Reach out

Reach for me

As you fall back
into my heart

Typically, I play either my acoustic or
my bass while I’m writing, but this time the words just poured out of me so
quickly that I didn’t have the chance to grab either one until after I was
finished.

I grab my Ovation Pro Balladeer from the
stand  in the corner of my room and play a couple of chords before I find the
right one. My eyes close and I start strumming, allowing the beautiful sound of
my acoustic guitar to overtake my bedroom. I play for hours, at times just
strumming whatever melody comes to me and other times I play and sing the song
I just wrote. A song about the love I have for Chloe.

Eventually, I put my guitar down and
grab my phone to call Noah.

“Hey man,” I say when he answers the
phone. “I’ve just written a song. It may not be our normal style but I think
it’s pretty good. Mind if I come play it for you?”