30
After spending the night staring at the blackceiling reflecting on Cormac’s odd behavior, switching from warm and affectionate, horny and eager to please me to cold and detached, after he came on me, the atmosphere changed, turned stifled and uncomfortable, and he failed to utter a single word.
He walked me down the stairs and opened the door for me to leave, and that was it. No, goodbye or kiss on my cheek. Nothing. Most of all, I hate being vulnerable, where my heart and emotions are being shredded and tossed into the flames without explanation.
A temperamental man is the last thing I fucking need in my life right now. So, of course, the natural thing to do is to head down to the pool in the morning to swim some laps to invigorate some energy into me, and hopefully, I’ll stumble into Cormac, and then I can read his reaction to me being nearby. Will he be friendly or ignore me? I should be steering clear of him, but no, I have to torture myself even more by placing myself in his grumpy path.
When I walked in, I spotted Cormac’s powerful slimline stroke and black cap in the water, but I couldn’t see Lyons. I assumed he was in the viewing bay behind darkened glass, secretly looking down on everyone.
The cool, fresh water skimming across my bare skin quickly awakened me out of a fug, and once I pushed through fatigue from a lack of sleep, I picked up the pace. As usual, when I’m in the water, a variety of memories shuffle like playing cards in my mind – Cormac’s weird behavior last night, the sex with Blake or Thorn as Cormac calls him, the man falling from the apartment window, Gabe’s visit to my apartment, my herbarium, my plant biology assignment due next week, the shift I have in the University Gardens after my swim and my family. Yeah, thoughts of my family trigger a lot of guilt, so it’s best not to overthink them.
After swimming several lengths soothing away from my maladies, I climb out of the pool and make my way to my towel, resting on the bench by the one-way window that looks out onto the car park.
As I dry my legs and torso and squeeze water from my ponytail, I sense a figure approaching and tense up.
“Rae,” that voice sends tingles down my spine.
“Detect- I mean, Gabe,” I answer nervously, wrapping my towel above my breasts and trying to suppress my stupid fluttering heart. “Are you here on business or pleasure?”
“Neither,” he answers as those wise eyes sweep briefly over my bare shoulders, peppered in droplets, hands slipped into his black pant pockets, white button shirt with the top two buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He never looked at me seductively, apart from that rare moment when he kissed me, and I’m sure he regrets it since I confessed that I was dating his son. “I’m here to speak to Michael Lyons, my son…Cormac’s coach. I don’t suppose you know where he is?”
“I haven’t seen him, but my best guess is he’s up there,” I say, pointing to the viewing window.
Gabe follows my stare and frowns, taking his hand out of his pocket to rub his unshaven square jaw with his fist. He looks so hot when he doesn’t shave. “So, how do I get up there?”
“Oh, I can show you if you like,” I offer, and he looks me up and down.
“Do you want to put some clothes on first?” he suggests.
“No, I should be okay. It’s just a quick walk up some stairs,” I say, pointing to the door on the other side of the pool arena. I don’t have to walk him there, but I want to.
“So, how are your studies going?” he asks as we walk past the pool to the far wall where the grandstands are.
“Good. I enjoy plant life, so I’m happy,” I answer, finding this conversation a little forced, as if to distract from our kiss and pretend it didn’t happen.
“And your job? Still catching bad guys?” I ask as we come to the door, and I open it with him falling behind.
“It’s a job,” he answers, and that’s all I’ll get out of him when it comes to his work. I wonder what he does to destress? Maybe a massage, like the one I gave his son, would be good to iron out tension. I wonder what he’d say if I offered.
I go up the stairs first, aware that I’m only wearing a towel over my bathing suit, but right now, it seems inappropriate, whereas by the pool, it is perfectly normal. When I reach the top step, I glance back and catch him eyeing my legs. He swiftly looks away, and I suppress a smile.
“Here’s the door into the viewing bay. I’m not sure if he’s in here,” I say, noticing the door is open a crack and pushing it further. Straight away, I’m bombarded by a scene I’ve seen before, but this time, I walked right into it.
Lucy’s golden hair flowing over her face is reddened by Lyons’ hand, pushing her head hard down on the table. She’s completely naked this time, wet bathing suit in a heap on the floor, while he’s ramming her from behind, the table creaking with every ram.
Lucy’s eyes connect with mine, but they are empty and distant as if she’s not registering who I am. I get the distinct impression that she’s disassociated from her body because she doesn’t seem to be enjoying it.
“Lucy?” my voice catches in my mouth. I clear my throat and speak her name again assertively, “Lucy.”
Lyons turns to stare me down with a hideous smirk on his face, but I focus on Lucy. “Lucy,” I shout, and she awakens out of her haze, and once realization hits her, anger emerges.
“Get out!” she screams, while Lyons’ smirk widens, his hips still pounding her aggressively. “Get out!”
Lyons’ smirk washes away when he spots someone over my shoulder who places a firm hand on my arm to drag me back into the corridor.
Gabe shuts the door on the pair and leads me back down the stairs. “I’ll come back later to speak to Lyons, as it looks like he’s busy,” he says softly.
I’m a little stunned by what I just saw, but mostly Lucy’s volatile reaction to me seeing them in the act. I felt her anger was fueled by embarrassment or shame, but it only made me want to speak to her to know that it was a consented act.
“That wasn’t his wife,” I exclaim hotly as I notice his warm hand is still grasping my upper arm, leading me out to the pool arena.
He doesn’t respond, and I glance back at him, and those steely blues reassuringly smile at me. “Sometimes men succumb to temptations,” his voice is leveled and smooth, and I wonder if he’s talking about me.
I open my mouth to respond when Cormac appears dripping wet and peeling his cap off. I expect him to be confused that I’m with his father, but he’s not surprised or bothered at all.
“Did you talk to him?” Cormac asks Gabe.
“No, he’s busy,” he answers, pointing his thumb behind him, just as Lucy comes rushing past us with her wet hair draping over her bowed head, hiding in shame or embarrassment.
I watch her race toward the locker room, wearing only her bathing suit. The shoulder straps are twisted as if she was in a hurry to slip them back on, and everyone knows how hard it is to put a wet swimsuit on.
“I better go and change as I have a shift in the gardens,” I say, clasping my towel tightly around my body so I can walk quickly without it falling down.
“Alright,” Cormac says in a friendly tone but frowning as usual. I’ll see you later, Rae.”
“Okay, “I smile back, although distracted by Lucy, and I flick Gabe a wave before heading to my destination, the locker rooms. When I arrive at the entrance, I am urged to look back at the two tall, beautiful men whose eyes are on me as they chat. Gabe has his hands in his pant pockets as if nothing fazes him, even catching his son’s coach fucking one of his students while Cormac is roughing up his short, wet hair with his fingers.
I spot Lucy in the corner, stripping her wet bathing suit off. She drops her head down when she sees me, pretending to scroll on her phone.
“Lucy,” I breathe, stepping closer to divert her attention from the screen.
“Don’t,” she warns me. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Lucy, please, just answer one question, and I’ll leave you alone,” I plead. “Please.”
She shakes her head and starts shuffling towards the shower cubicle area as three swim team members walk in, chatting about race times.
I step closer to her so they can’t hear, and Lucy makes it evident that she doesn’t want me near her. “Lucy, please, just answer me this one question. Was that consented? Between you and Lyons, was what I saw consented?”
Her mouth drops open in exaggerated horror. “Of course it was.” She exhales in a huff, turns her back to walk into the shower area, and hisses fervently, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone.”
“I won’t. I promise,” I assure her, yet I’m unsatisfied with her forced and fake answer. Maybe I’m reading too much into it. Perhaps I want, no, need Lyons to be the bad guy to make it easier to kill him. He is my enemy, but it doesn’t mean he treated other women as appallingly as he treated me. I could be the only one—the chosen lamb to the slaughter.
After showering and dressing, I found Lucy searching through her bag in the changing area. When she glances up, I notice the skin around her eyes is red, as if she’d been crying. I open my mouth to say something, but she snatches her bag and storms out. I wait a few seconds before I follow her out to find Gabe waiting by the pool, and those twinkling eyes smile at me when I emerge.
“Got a spare ten minutes for a coffee?” he croons.
“With you?” I ask, stunned as my heart dances in my chest. Is he asking me out on a date? Jeezus, Rae, don’t jump to conclusions. It’s just coffee.
That handsome jaw relaxes into a smile, “Yes, with me.”
“Sure. I have a shift in the uni gardens soon, but I have time for a coffee,” I blabber like a childish fool on speed and want the ground to open me up and swallow me. I’m showing my age here as the mature forty-something walks and speaks calmly and nods along to my verbal diarrhea. Gosh, he’s so damn attractive.
He points toward the kiosk set up in the car park by the road, and I don’t want to tell him that the coffee tastes like a grease slick, which is why I prefer the coffee houses on campus.
“So, do you swim here often?” Gabe asks, and I’m itching in impatience because this seems to be a warm-up to the crux of the conversation.
“That sounds like a pick-up line,” I chuckle, assuming that it isn’t and that he has a specific purpose for this spontaneous chat. But it’s worth having a playful dig to see how he’ll react.
His eyebrows cock, and I can’t read what his intentions are. “Do you?”
“What?” I’m confused.
“Swim here often,” he repeats, and I feel like an utter dick.
“Um, yes, most mornings unless I’m too hungover,” I confess regretfully, and he frowns disapprovingly at me. “That’s a joke, by the way.” Actually, it’s not a joke at all because there have been times when I drank too much that I was practically comatose. But I’m sure Detective just call me Gabe doesn’t want to hear about this nineteen, almost twenty-year-old’s drinking habits.
He steps up to the kiosk and asks me what I’d like. I suppress a cringe at the gross coffee served here, so I ask for a hot chocolate. He orders a black coffee for himself, and more regret stirs me that I shouldn’t asked for a grownup drink like coffee and realize what an utter lunatic I am when I’m in his presence.
“His mom died when he was eleven,” he says softly, standing close to me. “Has Cormac told you that?”
I exhale as the pieces of the Cormac Bernardi puzzle come together, bit by bit. “No. I’m sorry, I didn’t…we haven’t been dating long.”
He nods in understanding as his arm brushes against mine, and I wonder if he has noticed. Even the lightness of his touch blisters me. “It took him a long time to get over it.” he looks away for a second as a flash of anguish appears on his face, a memory of a dark day, but only for a tiny moment before it’s gone, and he’s back to that chiseled severity again. “Honestly, I don’t think he has gotten over it, but…”
Our drinks are ready, and he takes them from the barista and hands me a paper cup of hot chocolate, which I’m not in the mood for.
“I bet he misses her,” I say, watching him sip his coffee, only for him to cringe at the taste.
“Yeah, it’s terrible coffee here,” I whisper behind my cup.
“I don’t think I can finish this,” he states, holding the cup loosely, searching for a trash can, and spotting one by the kiosk.
I sip my hot chocolate, expecting it to taste equally as bad as their coffee, but I am pleasantly surprised at how nice it is, even though my stomach is too twisted in knots to enjoy it. “Here,” I suggest, handing him my cup, “you can have this.”
He shakes his head. “I don’t have a sweet tooth, especially in the mornings. Anyway,” he starts, sounding final, as if he’s about to end this very short moment before it even started, “I better head to work.”
“Oh?” I’m confused as I thought there was a purpose to this ‘coffee not-a-date.’ Or maybe the purpose was for him to tell me about Cormac’s mom.
He leans forward for a loose hug and lingers as I inhale in his cologne before he presses his lips against my cheek. When Gabe pulls away, he avoids my eye, as my cheek tingles from his unshaven chin.
“Take care, Rae,” he says, against sounding final, and I stand there alone with a cup of hot chocolate that I don’t want.
“You too,” I call after him, watching that backside move in those pants.
He stalls and turns back, looking directly at me. “Dinner?” he states.
“I’m sorry?” I’m unsure if I heard correctly.
“At my place?” he adds.
I nod as excited nerves buzz about in my stomach and chest. “O-kay,” I agree because I’m not a fucking idiot. I mean, look at the quality of that man.
“I’ll get your number off Cormac,” he tells me and walks away, leaving me stunned and flabbergasted at what just happened.
Maybe he doesn’t think I’m forever ruined and marred at the hands of rapists after all. Not that he knows who my rapists are and that one of them is right under his nose.