28. Abigail – “Music is the literature of the heart it commences where speech ends.” — Alphonse de Lamartine
28
Abigail
“Music is the literature of the heart; it commences where speech ends.” — Alphonse de Lamartine
I opened the door after tipping the Uber driver and started walking towards the apartment. I needed to leave this lake house tonight, and now that I think about it, I wish I had driven. I thought I would be drinking and celebrating more, but after hearing that conversation in the bathroom with my cousin and whoever else wanted to join in on the Abigail hate bash, I was ready to bolt.
I grab my suitcase and start stuffing the little things I had laid out in the bathroom. I carry all my shampoo and belongings in my arms and stand above my suitcase, letting the items drop inside, not caring where they land. I did this a few times before I cleared out the bathroom. With a heavy heart, I look up and catch my reflection in the long mirror across from me. I try not to cry, but I can’t help it.
“You’re not pretty. You’re fucking ugly,” I say out loud into the dark lonely night.
My conversation with Mel earlier gave me hope that maybe Colt found me slightly attractive, but that was shot and killed by Naomi’s words, along with any sliver of hope.
Naomi was right.
Why the fuck did I think someone like Colt would even find me attractive. I run a hand through my hair aggressively. I don’t understand why I had to be born into this family if all I would ever feel was less than any time I was around them.
“Why did you give this fate to me, God? Why couldn’t I be born into a family that gave a shit about education or hard work.”
Ya, I was talking to God out loud. I didn’t do it often, but when I didn’t know who to turn to, I did. And getting out my zodiac book didn’t cut it when I felt this alone.
I guess any human got to the point where they needed comfort from something. Faith in believing that it will get better. A higher being to help you get through the pain and suffering. Maybe this is precisely how Blake felt right before he stuck those needles in his arm.
A sob leaves me. And I can’t help it
Blake, why?
I’m sure the alcohol didn’t help. I’m always much more sensitive to my feelings when alcohol is involved. It’s why I don’t typically drink. I’m numb and emotionless when I don’t. I prefer it that way because when I do drink, it’s like a key is opening a door where all my emotions exist, and they come tumbling out—more like pouring out.
I have no one. I mean, my parents don't even care about me. What kind of shit is that? Then here I am in this hot as fuck NFL player's house, where I don’t belong. Namoi and whoever else in that bathroom agree I’m a joke. I’d be nothing more than a laughing matter if he had sex with me.
I needed to get out of here.
What was I doing ?
It shouldn’t shock me that the minute I move back home, my life gets complicated.
Maybe I should forget about med school. I wouldn’t make it anyway. Those students had support from their families—help, money, something to help back their dreams up.
I had nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Tears were pouring out of my eyes as I stuffed the remaining clothes on my bed into my suitcase. I didn’t want to go, but I knew I needed to.
Where could I go at this time of the night? My sisters? No. My mom and dad? No. Maybe Josh was available and so-called mission didn’t work out for him.
“God, I’m so pathetic.”
I could use the money in my savings to get a hotel. Tomorrow was Sunday, and then it would be Monday, so I could go apartment shopping then. I’ll have to get the cheapest one because I know I can’t just give up on my dream. I plop down on the bed and sink my hands into the mattress.
Okay, I decided to get a hotel tonight and then return to my parents in the morning. Dread filled my veins. I didn’t want to go back there, but I can’t stay here. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was grateful for Josh's help, but at the same time, I shouldn’t have entertained it. It was so lovely to have a plan, someone to rely on. But I can’t ignore the fact that everyone is laughing behind my back. My family is anyway.
I’m sure they thought I was pathetic for even thinking Colt did all this out of the goodness of his heart. Josh begged him, but it didn't matter if I told my family the details. They already had their opinions, especially when it came to me.
I did a double take of the apartment to ensure I got everything before closing the door behind me. I lugged my suitcase into my car, throwing it in the back seat. Then, I opened the driver's seat and got inside. I turned on the engine, and it immediately made a muffled noise. Nothing.
“What the hell?”
I tried again—the same thing. So I try again and again, and the car won’t start. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I hit my hands hard on the steering wheel three times. Then, rub out the pain.
“Great. I spent enough money on an Uber ride here.” I say to into the darkness. Then, looking in the back seat, I wonder if I can hide back there. Until I can call my sister or Josh to help jump my car in the morning. Assuming that’s all that’s wrong with it. I look at the clock on my phone to see what time it is. 11:11
“God, I need a sign. Anything. Blake, you up there?” I sigh as I throw my head back. “God, I wish to be happy. To wake up and be happy with my life. To be content. And not wish for it to get any better because there’s no way it could get better.”
I keep my eyes closed and feel the silence around me. Crickets chirp in the background, and a faint howl from a wolf sends chills up my spine.
What if a bear attacks me tonight?
Maybe that would be a blessing and an end to my miserable life. At least I would die an honorable death. I tug at my hair hard as I figure out what to do in my head and devise a game plan tomorrow.
Then; suddenly, flashing lights hit my eyelids, so I opened them to see who it was.
“Shit,” I say softly.
Colt’s truck pulled up in the driveway next to my car, and there was no way he didn’t see me, since my car was parked on the side of the street next to his driveway.
So much for the sign, God.
He parks his car and gets out quickly, leaving me no time to flee.
“Abigail,” he calls out my name, and I wish I were somewhere else. He opens my car door.
“Excuse me,” I say, reaching for the handle.
“Rude.”
“No, leaving without fucking telling me is rude. Why did you leave like that?” He barks.
“Leave like what? We drove together, we didn’t go together.” I say, getting out of the car.
He shut the door and corners me.
“What’s your damn deal?” I fight back.
“No, what’s your deal? It’s common courtesy to let the guy who told his brother he would take you home that you're leaving. But instead, you vanish without a word. I mean, what the fuck? I don’t have your phone number. The least you could do was tell me some other guy was taking you, Ash.” He says my name as if it’s poison on his tongue.
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Really? You think another guy brought me here?”
“Well, how else would you get here? And don’t think I don’t know how these sneaky tricks work, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart.
My heart squeezes at the memory of Blake calling me by that name.
“But this isn’t a hotel. Bringing guys around to fuck while you live under my roof was not on the menu. If you are going to fuck them, make sure they have their place, for Christ's sake.”
I take my hand to slap him, but he is too quick. Holy shit, he’s strong.
“Watch it, little girl.” I wasn’t sure if he was referring to my size or age. Either way, I was not too fond of his condescending tone.
“If I want to fuck a guy, guess what? I can. I’m a grown woman, and you aren’t my dad. I don’t have to tell you shit. I told you before, I don't need your help. Hence why I’m fucking leaving. Tonight, now, let- me-go.”
Still holding my wrist, he squeezes it tighter, and I can see the moment the skin around his eyes soften as he stares at me before they go back to piercing through my soul.
“You’re leaving?” I see the muscles in his jaw clench.
“Ya, so don’t worry. I won’t be your problem anymore. But lucky me, my fucking car won’t start. But that won’t stop me. I’ll be gone tonight; I can return and get my car in the morning.”
“Why are you trying to leave?” He asks with more force this time.
“Does it matter?” I try to get my hand free, but he grips it tighter. “Let me go, Colt.”
“No,” he grabs my other hand and pins it to the car. “Not until you tell me why you’re trying to leave. Did you steal something, and now you’re trying to run?”
“What? No!” I shout.
Is he serious? Haven’t I been insulted enough tonight? Now I have to deal with this shit.
“Are you hiding drugs or something?”
“No!”
“Then what is it?” He almost growls at me.
“Because I’m embarrassed!”
His eyes look between mine. “I’m fucking embarrassed to think for a second that maybe-” I groan. “Just forget it.”
“Forget what?” He says with a jerk, and I can see his patience growing thin.
“It doesn’t matter!” I shout
“It does! Tell me!” He shouts back. And I want to ask why he’s yelling, but I’m sure he’ll give me some bullshit answer.
“It doesn’t. I shouldn’t be here. So just let me go. Besides, we both know how you look at me anyway. I don’t want to be more of an embarrassment to myself any more than I have been.”
“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, and I think he’s catching on to what I am saying.
“Namoi is just… jealous.”
I laugh hysterically. “No, she’s realistic. There’s a difference.”
“I already know she must have said something to you. She was making snide comments all night long under her breath.”
“No, not to me, but she sure had a posse of women agreeing with her in the bathroom.” I laugh to keep myself from tearing up again.
He shakes his head. “Why are you letting her get to you?”
“Because it’s the truth.” I seethed.
“What is?” His eyebrows tug together.
Is he really this clueless?
“She's beautiful. And a guy like you would only-” I trail off, unsure if I should finish what I’m about to say.
“What? Spit it out?”
“I don't expect you to understand.”I try to wiggle free from his grasp again, but it’s useless.
“Then make me understand.”
“Use me,” I say through a breath. “ Think of me as a one-night stand. A girl to get your jollies off. Which is fine, but when my cousin-” I choke back a sob, swallowing it down. “Says it. Then it must be true.”
“Abigail, you…” he trails off and lets out a deep breath. I study him as our eyes flicker back and forth, and the heat that’s perspiring between us turns hotter.
“You are a rare find—a gem. You’re nothing like them. You’re special.”
A tear slips down my cheek. And I’m even more embarrassed because I can’t wipe it away.
Dumb alcohol and emotions.
“And you’re beautiful.” His voice is so low and husky.
“You don’t mean that,” I say, matching his tone.
“Want a bet?” He tilts his head to the side.
“No. How about I wish it to be true, and how about you stop playing games because we both know- ” And within seconds, his lips are on mine.
So many emotions happen at once. Shock. Excitement, Confusion. But my body is the least confused. I wrap my hand around his neck, tugging him closer. Our tongues fought for dominance. He lifted me in his arms, and instinctively, I folded my legs around his waist. Grabbing my ass, he squeezes, and I like it. I can feel his nails dig into me slightly. With our faces still glued, he pressed me against the car, digging his erection between my thighs. An involuntary groan traveled up my throat. He trailed his tongue to my neck, sucking hard between the skin of my collarbone and dress. I press against his massive erection.
More, More, More. I was screaming inside my head. And all I can think of is I wanted more. But instead of giving me more, he bites my skin just a tiny bit, causing goosebumps to run up my spine. A whimper leaves me as I grind up against his slacks. My thin thong material and his dress pants are the only thing between us. My clit throbs, aching for his attention, for his want.
I’m gasping for air when my head falls back on the car, and then he lets go of one of my ass cheeks to squeeze my breast. He growls into my neck, and I’m secretly hoping he doesn’t stop, but when I hear him mutter, “Fuck,” I know he’s thinking what I’m thinking.
We need to stop.
He slowly lets the pressure up and puts me back on the ground. I instantly feel cold without his warmth wrapped around me. We stare at each other for a moment. Without saying anything else, he backs up inch by inch, then turns and walks inside.
Does this mean he wants me to stay or leave? God, he was so frustrating, a typical air sign. Making things even more awkward with their airy silence. At least I know what to wish for tomorrow.