Chapter 4 #2
“Scram.” His voice is gruff, as if he hasn’t used it for a long time, or as if he’s been… crying. His tone is hard, not leaving space to second guess. He wants me gone, that’s what he means.
My mind is pushing me to obey, but my body has a mind of its own. There’s something keeping me here and I’m having trouble fighting it. I want to stay, to extend my hand and take his in mine. It’s hard to contain the desire to comfort him.
I’m full of crazy thoughts tonight.
I’m not even able to comfort myself, so how can I be someone else’s strength? “I…” My voice dies as the words escape me.
He ignores my attempt anyway, as his whole attention goes back to his drink, as if at the bottom of the glass he’ll find all the answers to his questions or troubles.
“Leave. I’m not looking for company. I just need to be alone,” he says, a gentler way to ask me to leave again. His tone is different this time. There’s no confrontation, it’s just dripping with pain.
Pain, I’m accustomed to it. There are days when I believe nothing is ever going to change.
Days when I believe this life I have is going to be forever.
Those days, I wish I’d never been born. Those days, I wish I’d been clever enough to recognise the signs of being taken advantage of.
And those days, I wished I had someone to rely on, someone that wasn’t in the same situation I am, like Jeremy.
I recognise the pain of loss, because it’s like a being pulled into a void, where cold and silence have free reign. It’s like a vacuum that nothing can fill.
The hard planes of his face, cut in stone, become even more rigid when I don’t move. “Are you deaf? I told you to scram.” Rage drips from his words, and I lean back away from his reach, afraid he’ll lash out.
I quickly unfold my legs from under the table, and I’m up in seconds. Still, I linger close instead of walking away, and I glance at him again, hoping he’ll recognise the same pain in me.
He goes back to nursing his drink, shutting me out again, so I push the chair under the table. I’m not sure why I do it, but I need to make sure no one else is going to bother him.
What’s in him that pushes me to break the rules?
Those rules tell me never to approach people unless I’m working, and this is not the case, because people take advantage of you and leave you to pay the price.
It’s more than that, though. I don’t care about people and their problems. I just want my money, because money is what keeps Dick away, and me safe.
And when Dick is nowhere near close to me I’m able to breathe.
If I were to be in trouble, these people wouldn’t even look my way.
So why should I worry about anyone else but myself?
And Jeremy. Because Jeremy knows what living this life means, because he’s right beside me every single damn day.
He would burn this town to ashes to save me, and I’ll do the same for him.
There is nothing here for me. I glance at him just one more time, my gut telling me that I’m not wrong in believing. But when I’m ignored once again, I strike out this ten minutes of my time as an insane idea.
I turn around, ready to go back to my friend and my job, when a hand wraps around my wrist, stopping me from taking a step forward.
He’s the only one near me, so I’m sure it’s him; however, I would have known anyway because another wave of hot lava sends thrills up my arm and down my spine, making my cock take notice.
The electricity passing from him to me has my body buzzing and my heart jumping to my throat. I turn my head around and our eyes lock. Nothing more important than this. The same emotions brimming inside me are on display for me to witness. Unrestrained, raw, and impossible to forget.
He looks away as if to hide whatever is happening inside him, but I don’t miss the grip of his hand tightening around me.
I follow his silent request and I stay. I shouldn’t because nothing can come from this. I do, though, because something in him is calling me.
Even though I’m young, I’ve had enough experiences in my life to be sceptical about something good happening to me. Gifts don’t come for free to people like me.
Who’d want to get involved with someone like me?
I stand there, unmoving, letting his warmth flare up every cold place inside me. I’m not expecting him to talk, so his sultry voice goes straight down to that part of my body that shouldn’t be acknowledging his presence.
“It’s not a good night.” He doesn’t say more. He goes back to his drink and his sorrows.
The loss when his hand leaves me is intolerable. The cold spreads again, as if he never touched me. For a moment I’m lost, then survival kicks in, and with a last sorrowful glance I force myself to step back inside my life.
I don’t miss the way he closes his hand in a fist and then flexes his fingers open a couple of times, as if trying to forget the touch. I want to believe it’s because he was as affected by it as I was, and not because he loathed it.
I hate that for him, I’m already a thing of the past.
I glance back just to catch him passing his hand over his trousers, as if to remove me or the feeling he experienced. I’m not sure why my eyes prickle.
Why am I feeling colder than before?
I walk away, inexplicably sad that he doesn’t stop me again. It’s not meant to be.
When I reach Jeremy, he teases me about my lack of skills in pulling the guy.
“Man, he would have been such a good lay,” he says with a silly smile.
“Yeah,” I reply, but I’m only listening with half of my brain while the other half thinks about the man sitting a few feet across from us, still absorbed in his own little world. I can’t take my eyes away from him.
“Good looking, with manners, and I bet he smells good.”
I force myself to bring my attention back to my friend. “He did smell good, and he’s more than good looking. And you couldn’t have pulled him either.”
“I would have. Look at this arse,” Jeremy says while smacking himself.
I laugh, but I read behind our silly smiles, that we both believe the same truth. We’re not good enough to end up with someone like that guy.
I force myself to stop looking at him, because stupid wishes can create problems, and I have enough of those.
We spend the next ten minutes teasing each other. We challenge each other to come up with the craziest ideas for pulling people. We laugh but there’s a sadness in us that nothing can mute. We ignore it, but it’s in his eyes as I’m sure it’s in mine.
We never talk about work, though, because neither of us wants to remember. We concentrate on the free time we have, and pretend to forget what’s going to happen after.
I avoid looking at the man who makes me want to be someone I’m not, but I wish I was.
Until my resistance breaks and I glance in his direction just to find the table empty.
A pang of some undefined emotion wiggles its way through my body.
I want to shrug it off, but the feeling that I missed something important is strong.
So strong my body buzzes with the need to move… to escape. But there is no escaping.
I scan the place, desperate to find him again. He’s walking back to his table.
A glance from Ed, the owner, is like a slap, which brings reality into my life once again. I don’t look back at the table, because dreams are not for me.
Maybe going back to work is what I need, even if it’s the last thing I want to do, because the thought of spending time with that mysterious man is a very bad idea.
Dreaming brings nothing but troubles, and I don’t need those. What I need is to make enough money to leave this place.
One last hopeful thought rises inside my head.
Could someone like him save me?
Before I move, though…
One last look.