Always For You (Books 1-3) (3 page)

“Mom said you'd be up here. Whatcha
doin?”

“Nothing, just sitting here,
thinking.”

“Well if you're thinking then it
really is 'nothing'!” I laughed but didn't get the reaction I
wanted. “Hey, what's up, I'm only kidding.”

“Yeah I know, I'm just not in the
mood.” She was sat there looking at a picture of the family, all of
us together during a trip to Mexico. “Hey, do you remember this
vacation?”

I walked up and sat on the bed beside
her, leaning in to look at the picture. “Yeah, sure, I was nine. I
remember you getting bitten by that dolphin.” I laughed again,
trying to bring a smile to her face. She had a beautiful smile and
such a vivacious spirit usually. Not like me, I was much quieter.

She smiled lightly, her lips still
closed, letting out a small huff. “Yeah, could never watch
Flipper
after that! I don't know why everyone thinks they're so friendly –
damn thing nearly took my arm off.” She certainly had the scars to
prove it, a series of dots along her forearm that kinda looked like a
bad tattoo.

“I still think it was your fault. If
you tease a dolphin with a fish he's gonna get pissed off
eventually.”

“Yeah, I guess everyone has their
breaking point, even a dolphin.” There was a weight to her words,
as if she was carrying something, something she didn't want to tell
me. I guess it was none of my business, she'd always tell me if I
really needed to know.

“Girls.” A shout came from
downstairs. “Dad's got the barbecue on. Come on down, the burgers
are getting burned.”

“OK mom,” I called down, “just be
a second.”

I turned back to Ellen as she gently
placed the picture back onto her bedside table. “Are you alright?
You seem, I don't know, distant.”

She nodded without saying anything and
gave me a hug. “It's good to see you sis, we don't see enough of
each other anymore.”

She was right. Over the last couple of
years since she'd started college she had barely come home, never for
any longer than a few days. I guess her life in New York had dragged
her away, but she had seemed to have grown apart from mom and dad
over the last few years as well. We used to be such a close family
but now, now these sorts of days were fleeting. And no matter how
much I tried to ignore it, there was always a gnawing doubt that
something wasn't quite right, that something was being kept from me.

We headed downstairs and back out for
the barbecue, the warm summer sunshine beating down onto our necks.
We sat and chatted as families do, although not like we used to in
the past. The mood wasn't reflective of the weather, a damp blanket
laid over everyone. I called everyone on it, with no hint of an
answer coming my way, not one I could believe anyway. Everyone had
their excuses.

“It's just college sis, you know what
it's like – stresses you out,” came Ellen's reply.

“Oh, and your father's been working
so hard recently, haven't you Trevor,” said mom. “The business
Gracie, it's not doing too well with the economy the way it is.”

My dad was a furniture maker,
specializing in fine luxury woodworks. Bed frames, cupboards,
dressers, chairs – you name it, he'd make it. Unfortunately, the
local economy wasn't exactly flourishing, and an artisan like my dad
who made luxury furniture was feeling the pinch. IKEA, on the other
hand, must have been making a killing with all their generic and
cheap tat. At least, that's how dad put it.

A little later I was sat out alone,
enjoying the sunshine when I heard raised voices inside the house. I
couldn't determine what it was about but it was certainly between mom
and Ellen. As soon as the back door to the garden was shut, their
voices drowned to nothing, leaving only muddled sounds inside.

My interest was piqued. I headed around
the back of the house and crept in the front door, the voices
suddenly much clear and the conversation decipherable. Ellen was
talking, her voice raised but not out of control.

“Look mom, I don't want to be here
anymore. I don't want to come back here anymore. If it wasn't for
Gracie, I'd stay away.”

Mom was sobbing through her words. “But
it's been years Elle, can't you see past all of this. I have, why
can't you?”

“That's one of the main problems mom.
That you've seen past it. How can you, how can you carry on living
like this?”

“Because it's the past. I can't
change that. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake, but one we all
have to live with.”

Ellen was laughing sarcastically. “A
mistake? Are you fucking kidding me Audrey.”

I heard a slap, Ellen's words cut
short, smacked from her mouth. Then remorse, mom regretting what
she'd done. “Oh Elle, I'm so sorry. I just never hear you talk to
me like that.”

There was silence, moms sniffs the only
sounds drifting out of the room and around the corner to where I hid,
back against the wall.

“Elle, please,” mom continued as I
held my breath tight. “You can't let this spoil your relationship
with your father, your relationship with me. Is it really worth it?”

Ellen spoke slowly, her words dropping
like stones. “Mom, I'm sorry. I'm going back to New York, and I'm
not coming back. Not for a long time.”

July 17
^th
2012

Cain

I look over and see a beautiful woman
at the bar. She looks back at me, a suggestive look in her eye. It's
dim in here, and loud, so loud I can hardly hear the chattering of
the people around me. My eyes fix on her, her slender shoulders, her
peroxide hair, her firm breasts popping out from her dress. I glance
around; everyone's looking at her. They crowd her like a pack of
wolves, all licking their lips and closing in on their prey.

One approaches, leaning on the bar,
trying to play it cool. I see his mouth move, his best line spurted
from his small head. She barely notices him, takes a sip of her drink
as he slinks away, rejected. I laugh and she sees me, a smile slowly
surfacing on her face.

Another man steps in; a bucket of
nerves. His friends jeer him on from behind, pushing him forwards
towards the bar. He sheepishly taps her on the shoulder to get her
attention. She turns slowly, her expression disinterested. The man
can't even get a word out before scrambling away for cover. The
wolves continue to circle, each one shot down, limping away licking
their wounds, their egos dashed.

I continue to watch on, enjoying the
show, building my case. She looks at me often, she's enjoying it too,
enjoying her power. Gradually the crowd around her disperse, no one
else wishing to be humiliated. I take my cue, walking towards her
confidently. She follows me with her eyes as I pace across the bar,
holding my confident gait. I reach her and stand beside her, not
saying a word, succeeding where the others failed. I bend in and
whisper in her ear, sending chills down her spine. I feel them with
my hand on her back.

I see that confident expression
crumble, her eyes turning to puppydogs. I've got her now. I whisper
in her ear again, and see her nod a reply. I take her hand and turn
away, feeling her light grip at the end of my fingers as I walk
through the crowd and out the back. We get on my motorcycle and shoot
down the road, her hands tight around my chest, her breasts pressed
to my back.

We enter my flat. It's messy, dirty,
but I don't care. She doesn't either. I turn and kiss her, still not
speaking, nothing between us but our passion. That's how I want it,
it's how I always want it. I take her in the living room, tearing her
clothes off, my hands exploring every inch of her body. She wails and
screams, disturbing the neighbours through the thin walls. I don't
give a fuck, there's nothing they can do.

That was last night. That was most
nights. Passion, nothing more. To me women were toys, things to be
played with, objects of my pleasure. I didn't care for seeing them
twice, what would be the point? I felt no ties to them, had no
feelings for them. But I wanted them, wanted them often. And I got
what I wanted.

It had been three months since I'd last
seen blood on my hands. Three months since I'd met Grace. Three
months since I'd battered that lowlife. I felt no remorse over what
I'd done, he deserved it. I didn't pretend to treat women well, but
I'd never attack one, never hit one. I gave women pleasure, and they
me. If someone hit a woman, I'd have them. I don't care what the
situation.

For some reason though, I couldn't get
that night out of my head. I don't know what it was, beating that guy
or meeting Grace. She was different to the women I knew: pure, sweet,
innocent. The girls I met weren't like that. I'd meet them in seedy
bars and clubs, hanging around for the right guy, waiting for a guy
to buy them drinks, feed them crack. It wasn't for me – drugs –
I'd never gone for it. I'd seen too many women with dead eyes to find
that appealing.

No, Grace wasn't like that. She had a
twinkle in her eye, a look of optimism and ambition, not despair. She
was at college, she was clever, she was happy. I was jealous of that,
jealous of how she described her life, described her family. I'd
never had a family like that, always being passed around from home to
home, never settling anywhere. I hadn't even finished high school for
fucks sake, had no qualifications to my name. Being a barman was the
best I could do, but I certainly enjoyed the perks of the job. Women
always like bartenders, that's what I'd learned over the years.

Still, I had no family. No real father,
no real mother, no real siblings. My mother died when I was just a
baby, I never knew her, don't remember her. It's hard to care when
you don't remember something. I never knew about my father.
Apparently he was a random guy, they weren't married or anything. I
had a picture of him though, of him and my mother together. I don't
know when it was taken, where it was taken, but I looked at it often.
He must have been married to someone else – he was wearing a
wedding ring. I guess that's why it never went anywhere.

I wondered sometimes what my life would
be like if she hadn't died, if my father had claimed me. It might be
better, it might be worse. At least I'd have someone though, a
constant presence in my life. I'd drifted for years now, ever since I
left my final foster parents. Good people they were, the best of the
bunch, the closest thing to family I had. But still, I left when I
was 17, moved around the country, working from place to place. I
guess I'd seen a bit, experienced a bit. More than most guys of 22
anyway.

I'd
been in West Norton over 6 months now, working in a bar. That's where
I'd met Brad, working behind the bar at
Foz
,
a local watering hole
.
It was alright, a bit nicer than where I was used to working, and the
manager was pretty chilled.

It was a shame Brad didn't keep hitting
that Katie girl, Grace's friend. I'd have stepped in for another date
with her. Only her.  

September 5
^th
2012

Grace

“
Come
on Gracie, come on.”

“
Alright,
hold your horses mother, I'm coming.” She was always like this when
we were visiting her dad. He'd been a bit of a disciplinarian by all
accounts, although you wouldn't think it to see him now. Lateness was
never tolerated in their household though, and that habit of being on
time had been well and truly etched into my mom's psyche.

“
Oh
Gracie, you look beautiful,” she said as I came down the stairs.
“You're looking more like Ellen everyday, you two could be twins.”
She stifled a sniff, still reeling from their run in a couple of
months ago. Of course, as far as she knew, I hadn't been privy to it,
so she made sure to keep herself together for want of me prying.

We continued talking as we shot down
the road in the car, heading out onto the highway, views of the ocean
to our left.

“
So
how are things with Tom going. We didn't see him round as much this
summer?”

Urgg, I really didn't want to talk
about Tom right now. “Um, things are good yeah, same as always I
guess.”

“
You
don't sound too enthused. Trouble in paradise?” She shot a
inquisitive glance over at me as she swerved through traffic, her
foot to the floor.

“
Mom,
would you slow down a bit. I mean, seriously, just to get to
grandad's place a few minutes early.”

Her voice hardened. It wasn't a subject
she was overly happy discussing. “You know what he was like when I
was young. You should thank God your father isn't like that, it would
be a rude awakening for you.”

Excellent, subject averted.

In truth, things were Tom were a bit
rocky. I don't know, maybe I was getting bored; bored of him, bored
of the relationship. It had been over 4 years, most of that time
spent together in high school. Now I was in college, things seemed
different. It had been a growing concern over the last year, but not
really enough to break up over.

I think he was having trouble with the
fact that I was at college studying law and he was still back home,
working in his fathers restaurant. I'd chosen to stay close to him,
but somehow we'd grown apart even more because of it. He was becoming
increasingly jealous, increasingly clingy. It was as if he thought
I'd run off with the first college hunk who came my way. I dunno, I
kind felt like I was the one wearing the trousers now, like he was
becoming emasculated somehow. It wasn't an attractive look.

My mind was snapped back to reality as
my mom continued to pace down the highway, her driving unusually
erratic. She looked sad, her eyes melancholic as she moved in and out
of traffic, her mind seemingly elsewhere.