Chapter 15 #2
"No. Adam was a creep, but he was never violent. He just didn’t take our break up well.
He started following me, hanging around at the bar, acting like we were still a couple.
Eventually he caused a scene with another customer I was serving and my boss ‘invited’ me to leave.
” I shook my head. It still made me mad that I got blamed for his actions.
“After I got fired, he escalated. He’d send me gifts all the time, petals on my car, intense love letters, that kind of thing.
Eventually, he tried to break into my house one night.
He said he just wanted to surprise me with a romantic dinner.
” I rolled my eyes. It sounded absolutely crazy because it was.
“Anyway, he’d finally done enough for the police to do something about it.
They just gave him a warning but it must have been enough because I haven’t seen him since. That was about a year ago."
I trailed off, shutting myself up. I needed to stop. I didn’t want Adam to have any place at this dinner table.
I took a large sip of my wine, eyeing the man in front of me.
The rational side of me was loud again, a hand on her hip, making her opinion known.
Manipulative, controlling, obsessive … Sound familiar?
Yeah, it did, and not for the first time I wondered what the hell I was doing here.
I didn’t trust Alfie, not even close, but some deep part of me knew that he and Adam weren’t cut from the same cloth.
But if they weren’t cut from the same cloth, then why was he, like Adam, looking at me like I'd done something wrong?
Before I could move to a safer subject, we were interrupted once more by the maitre d' carrying a platter of food and Jean, who was red in the face and looked pleased as punch as our edible art was laid out before us.
"For Mr Tell, Coq au Vin, and for you, belle demoiselle, confit de canard with dauphinoise potatoes and red bordeaux." Jean presented our meal with a flourish but Alfie just sat there, his face like stone.
"It looks wonderful, Jean. Thank you!" I smiled, trying to clear the tension. Jean’s gaze flicked from me to Alfie and back again.
"Perhaps we have brought your food at the wrong time?"
I waited for Alfie to answer, but he just sat there, boring holes into me and looking like he was about to smash the place up.
"Not at all. We're just having a little disagreement, that's all."
"Ah," he nodded. "Quand l'amour est satisfait, tout son charme dispara?t," he said and disappeared back into the kitchen, taking the maitre d' with him. I looked at Alfie.
"What the hell does that mean?" I asked.
"’When love is satisfied all charm disappears.’"
I opened my mouth to point out that we most definitely were not in love, but he spoke first.
"When did you last speak to him?"
Great. We were still on Adam. "Like I said, about a year ago. At my house, when we called the police." He nodded but didn't look any happier. Our food remained untouched between us, unwanted guests at a two person party.
“Give me his last name. I’ll ensure he doesn’t bother you again.”
I searched his face to see if he was joking. He wasn’t. "No way. He already isn't bothering me, so just leave it alone. Besides, you have no right?—”
"I have every right. If you don't tell me, then I'll just find out for myself,” he challenged, clearly thinking I would cave in.
I took a cool sip of my wine, folded my arms, and sat back in my seat. “Go for it.”
His nostrils flared. His jaw clenched. Alfie Tell was not a man who was used to being denied anything.
“Fine.” He snatched up his cutlery and began carving into his meal, his knife screeching against the plate. I didn’t join him. Between my miserable walk down memory lane and reliving my crazy-ex drama, my appetite was completely blown.
“You aren’t eating.”
No shit. “I'm not hungry.”
“Eat, Lola.”
“Or what? You’ll spank me? I said I'm not hungry.
If I don't want to eat, I won't eat.” He eyed me, giving me a moment to stew in my own juices. Anger was sitting heavy in my chest, it took about a minute to make its way out of my mouth. “You know, most people would have said they were sorry I’d had to deal with a shitty boyfriend, not treated me like it was my own fault.”
“I didn’t say it was your fault,” he answered evenly, continuing with his dinner as if everything was all fine and dandy.
“You’re acting like it is.”
“You’re projecting, Lola.” He looked me up and down with that x-ray vision of his that always made me feel naked. “You're embarrassed that you let yourself be treated badly and you’re taking it out on me.”
I stared at him, my mouth open. I didn’t know what was infuriating me more, the fact that he was being so callous, or the fact that he might be right.
“You know what? Every time you open your mouth, I like you less than I did before.” I expected anger from him, but the wry smile he gave me set off a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“You’d be surprised how often dislike and desire go hand in hand.” He gazed at me, his candlelit eyes searing my skin.
“So, you don’t care if I don’t like you?”
“Why would you like me? I’m not a likeable man. Besides, you might not like me, O’Connell, but you do want me.”
“And how can you be so sure of that?”
“Because your cunt is aching for me.” My mouth fell open again and everything south clenched. He tilted his head just a little, eyeing me. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“Stop it,” I breathed, but he just smirked at me.
“Open your legs, touch yourself, and tell me you aren’t wet.”
“Stop!” He looked momentarily stunned at my outburst. “I barely know you, Alfie, and I don’t like being spoken to like I’m some common whore you’re about to finger-fuck under the dinner table.
” I glared at him, waiting for an apology I knew I wasn’t going to get.
He didn’t look concerned that I was upset, merely curious.
With a disgusted sigh, I threw down my ruined napkin and shoved my chair back.
“I’m going home. This was a mistake.” I was done with this night. I’d given him a shot and no one could say that I hadn’t tried.
I struggled not to meet his gaze as I scooped up my clutch.
I could feel his eyes on me, observing me, heating my skin.
I felt like I was suffocating. Without a backward glance, I turned on my heel and stormed out of there, feeling desperately guilty that Jean went to all that effort for a wasted dinner.
I hoped Alfie made sure he was well compensated.
Outside, the cool night air hit me with a rush, and that, combined with too much wine on an empty stomach, sent my head spinning. I ignored the feeling and stalked down the road, but quickly realised that I had no idea where I was and no way of getting home.
I was about to give up and cry when I saw a taxi with its light on. A taxi from here to home would probably cost me what I made in a week but it'd be worth it to get me out of here.
I ran towards my salvation, waving furiously. It slowed to a stop, but just as I was about to climb in, a pair of strong arms encircled my waist.
“You’re not running from me, O'Connell. Not this time.” I struggled but he didn't release me. His grip on me was overwhelming, and my body and mind warred with each other. I wanted him. I wanted away from him. I couldn’t think with him so close and that scared me.
I pulled at his hands, trying to get them away from my waist, and let out a yell of frustration when his grip didn’t give.
“Are you finished?” he asked, sounding mildly amused.
I let out another squeal of frustration and squeezed my eyes shut.
I told myself to breathe. To stop and relax.
He wasn’t a god, he was just a man, and he had no real power over me.
I stood still and after a few moments, he released me.
I spun away from him, but he just stood there, aloof as ever, and put his hands in his pockets.
“Are you getting in, love?” The taxi driver sounded bored and not at all concerned that I’d just been manhandled.
“You aren’t getting in that taxi, O’Connell.” Alfie’s voice was low, a threatening edge to it. “You’ve been drinking and he’s a stranger. This is reckless and stupid.”
“You can’t stop me.”
“There are half a dozen ways I could stop you, but I would prefer you made the right decision on your own.”
With a scoff, I turned and opened the door to the taxi, but a hand came around me and slammed it shut before his body flattened against me, pinning me to the black cab.
I gasped as his chest pressed up against my back, his breath hot on my neck.
My mind swam, my body instantly languid, as malleable as dough.
I could feel him fumbling between us, undoing his jacket; what was he doing?
“Sir, maybe you should—” The driver's words were cut off as Alfie removed a bill-fold from his pocket and tossed it to him through the open window.
“Leave.” Alfie pulled me away from the taxi and I watched in dismay as it disappeared down the street.
With a growl of frustration I lifted my foot and brought it down on his stupid, fancy shoe.
He grunted and released me. We stared each other down for one long moment.
He straightened his jacket, eyeing me as if I were an errant child.
“I don’t like public spectacles, O’Connell. They’re bad for business.” He gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “You won’t do it again.” He pulled away and crossed the street, leaving me standing there with a spinning head and an out of control heartbeat.
Outrage left a bitter taste in my mouth as I scowled at his retreating form.
I watched as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and the lights of an Aston Martin flashed. He opened the passenger door and looked at me expectantly.
I really didn’t want to get in that car but he had cut off any other option. I gritted my teeth as I crossed the road and got in the stupid car, ignoring Alfie’s smug gaze as I passed him.
With me safely deposited inside, he rounded the car and got in, sliding smoothly behind the wheel.
I must have been more drunk than I’d realised because I couldn't seem to make the seat belt work. He sighed and shoved my hands out of the way, fastening it for me.
The tension in the car had dulled to a dense ache by the time we arrived at my house.
My wine buzz had worn off and the long day had caught up with me, leaving me exhausted.
“Is irrational behaviour a habit for you?” Alfie asked. I turned to glare at him in the darkness.
“Is it a habit for you ?”
“Perhaps. But if it is, it’s a new habit. I'm wondering if it's built in for you.”
I narrowed my eyes at him a moment longer before looking away. “No, it isn't. I'm fiery, not crazy.”
“Good. I don't want a repeat of this every time I see you.”
“Every time? Alfie, can’t you see that tonight was a bad idea?”
He tilted his head, observing me for a moment. “What bothered you most about tonight? My use of the word cunt? The idea of touching yourself in a public place? Or that it excited you?”
“Maybe what bothered me is that you were angry at Adam’s controlling behaviour, despite having put a tracker on my vehicle and my phone today.
You don’t see the irony there? Because I sure as hell do.
I don’t like being followed, Alfie. I want them gone.
Now.” I glared at him but he just gazed right back at me.
“Lola, I understand why the trackers bother you so much but I promise my motives aren’t insidious. I just want to keep you safe. I—” He cut himself off, refusing to divulge too much.
You what? What had he been about to say? Sick of playing these guessing games, I threw open the door of his very expensive car and stomped up the path towards my home.
I should have known he’d follow me.
He cut in front of me, blocking me from my front door.
I scowled and sidestepped him but his hands were on me in a heartbeat.
Encircling my wrists, he turned us and walked me backwards until I felt my front door at my back.
I found myself pinned, my wrists clamped behind my back in one of his very large hands.
Frustration burned in my gut and if my sister and nephew hadn’t been asleep inside, I would have screamed in frustration.
I wondered if he knew this, if he was using their sleeping presence to keep me quiet. Could he be that manipulative?
He could have taken advantage of the position, could have kissed me or allowed his other hand to roam, but he merely looked down at me with interest and waited for me to stop struggling.
I tried loosening his grip one final time before giving up and slumping against the door with a huff. He was immovable.
His free hand came up to cup my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I glared up at him but he looked as aloof as ever.
“Do you want to know what I think? I think the trackers upset you, sure, and I think the word ‘cunt’ might have bothered you too, but here’s what bothered you more.
I can’t imagine that you tell many people about your losses, about your father leaving you, about Adam, but you told me.
You’re not even sure that you like me, yet you told me and you can’t understand why.
Vulnerability frightens you, doesn’t it? That’s helpful to know.”
“You don’t know anything.” My breaths came in short, sharp pants, my mind swimming at his close proximity.
“But I’m learning. Every time you run from me, I learn more.
You ran out on me tonight because in one evening, I’ve managed to strip you bare.
” He leaned in, his body pressing flush against me.
My breath caught in my throat as his lips hovered over mine.
“Imagine what I could do to you in a week, a month, a year…a lifetime.” His gaze dropped to my lips, to my throat and further.
His fingers trailed a path down, over my clavicle, until his palm rested on my chest.
“I can feel your heart beating out of your chest, trying to get to me. It aches for me, O’Connell.” His dark gaze found mine once more. “Other parts of you ache for me too.”
I couldn’t breathe. He held me on a precipice that was becoming all too familiar and just before I fell, the corner of his mouth lifted.
“Good night, O'Connell.” He released me and I sagged against my front door, watching as the mercurial man slipped into his car and drove away without another glance.
I was so very screwed.