Heavy Metal (A Badboy Rockstar Romance) (16 page)

“Hey,” he said when I answered.  “Sorry to call so late, but I saw I missed a call from you when I passed out after rehearsal.  Plus, if I’m going to be perfectly honest, I really just want to hear your voice.  How are you, honey?”

Holding the phone to my ear, I crept into the kitchen so my conversation wouldn’t disturb – or be overheard by – Carl.  “I’m alright,” I told him, wondering if that was a boldfaced lie.  “But I need to tell you something.  You won’t like it.”

“What is it?”

Taking a deep breath, I wondered if I was making a bad decision.  I didn’t expect Brandon to take the news that I was sleeping under Carl’s roof well.  Why would he?  Part of me wanted to avoid the confrontation, but another more insistent part of me said I had already been deceitful enough. 

Though I hadn’t exactly lied to Brandon, I wasn’t being completely honest with him either. 

For one thing, I hadn’t told him how distraught I was or how badly being back in my old stomping grounds was affecting me.  I had glossed over the truth for noble reasons, not wanting to worry Brandon.  But still, I hadn’t quite been forthcoming.  And then there was the issue of why I was afraid to have sex with him.  Oh, that was a whole other can of worms...

Steeling myself for Brandon’s reaction, I decided to simply blurt out the truth.

“I’m staying with Carl,” I told him, wanting to be up front about it.  “It’s just for tonight!  I had no other choice.  My reservation at the bed and breakfast fell through and there wasn’t anywhere else to go.  I’m sleeping on the couch,” I assured him.  The thought of sleeping in the same bed as Carl was stomach churning. 

Brandon was silent.

“Are you still there?” I asked, fearing he had hung up.

“Yeah, I’m here.  I think I should be there with you,” Brandon told me quietly.  “It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do.  It’s Carl I don’t trust.  Maybe taking another hit to the face will persuade him to hand over your passport.”

“He might not even have it,” I pointed out.  “He could have thrown it out.”

“Okay, well then we’ll get you a replacement,” Brandon replied, ever sensible.  “As for tonight, I will get you a hotel room in the city and send a car to pick you up.  And then I’ll get on the next flight out there so I can have a word with Carl in person.”

“No, don’t.”

There was a long pause.   Then Brandon asked, “Why not?”

“This is absurd,” I pointed out, my frustration and anxiety reaching new levels.  “This whole situation is absurd.  I can’t ask you to fly out here to deal with my mess!  I know you would do it for me in a heartbeat, but you can’t.  I don’t want you coming here.”

“Well then you should come here.  I’m really sorry about your cat, Hayley, but I think maybe it’s time for you to come back to me.  I can arrange to have a car there to pick you up tonight, and I’ll get you on the first flight out here.  We’ll figure out the passport stuff first thing tomorrow.  I hate being away from you.  Come to Europe with me, Hayley.”

Heartbreak over Mittens aside, it was a tempting offer.  Traveling abroad with the man I adored sounded like a dream come true.  I wanted to wander arm in arm with him down the cobblestone streets of Paris and make out with him in the London rain.  I wanted it so bad it hurt! 

But something was nagging at me, and it was more than anxiety over Mittens.

“I can’t keep accepting your generosity,” I told Brandon.

“What are you talking about?”

“There has never been a time when I wasn’t dependent on a man,” I explained.  “I was so young when I left home, and the messed up situation there drove me straight to Carl.  I was financially dependent on him – actually, I was dependent on him in every way.  It’s not a good feeling to be that helpless.  I need to know I can stand on my own two feet.”

“What does that mean?” Brandon asked.

“I think I should get a job and rent an apartment...a place all of my own,” I explained.  “I didn’t imagine myself staying here in town, and I don’t want to.  But I can’t leave if there’s a chance Mittens could still be around.  So first thing tomorrow, I am going to go find work somewhere.”

“Even if you do that, what will you do about the apartment?  Most places need time to do credit checks and all that stuff, don’t they?” Brandon pointed out.  “Best case scenario, you might be able to move in the first of the month – but that’s a while off.”

“Yeah, but I know a guy.  My former landlord has a few other buildings around town, and he likes me.  I have a feeling he will probably forgo the damage deposit and let me move in right away,” I explained.  “If he has a vacancy, that is...but I expect he’ll have something.”

“Hayley...”

“You’re going to be busy touring Europe for the next little while anyway,” I reminded Brandon before he could try to talk me out of it.  “I think this is something I need to do.  I’ve never had a chance to be independent.  It’s important to me.”

He sighed, clearly not in favor of my decision.  I could hardly blame him for feeling that way.  But then, in his characteristic supportive manner, he assured me, “I want you to be happy.  If this is what it will take, then you should do it.  I will call you every day until I get back to the states.  Once I’m there we can figure out our next move.”

“Thank you,” I said gratefully.  “You are amazing, Brandon, and I’m so lucky to have met you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly the sound of a throat clearing made me nearly jump out of my skin.  Carl walked into the kitchen in his boxers and a rumpled t-shirt, gave me a sideways look and then wordlessly opened the fridge and began rooting around.

“I have to go,” I told Brandon regretfully.  “Goodnight.”

I hung up before Brandon could talk me out of it – and before I could talk myself out of it.  Hanging up from my conversations with him was always so hard.  One minute his voice was there in my ear, calm and reassuring and oh so sexy.  The next, it was gone, leaving a deep void within me.

Trying to ignore how badly I missed Brandon, I pulled my robe shut.  Then I looked at my ex suspiciously, wondering how much he had overheard. 

Carl grabbed a carton of milk and began to boorishly chug it down, not bothering with a glass.  Then, letting out a belch, he wiped his mouth off with his arm and looked at me.  “Who was that?” he demanded.  “Was it your new boyfriend?” he asked with a sneer, letting me know exactly what he thought of
that
.

I stared back at him, unwilling to play his stupid game.

“You and I both know you should be with me,” Carl informed me.  “Maybe the new guy you’re with seems alright now, but he’s going to get bored with banging you pretty soon and drop you like a rock.  Then I will be left to pick up the pieces.  Let’s skip all that nonsense and go back to the way things were.”

“Carl...”

He took a step toward me.  I could smell his breath, sour and hot.  “Kiss me,” he ordered.

Instead of obeying, I pushed him away.  “Stop it,” I told him firmly. 

“Whoa, what’s the problem?” he asked, feigning confusion. 

“Don’t play dumb.”

His eyes narrowed.  “So what, you finally lose some weight and suddenly you think you’re too good for me?  It’s a pity you’re too stupid to see and appreciate what’s right in front of you.  By the time you finally come around it might be too late, you know.  But hey, it’s your loss.”

I glanced out the window and was relieved to see that the sun was coming up.  It was almost morning, so at least I wouldn’t have to wander around alone in the dark.  And hopefully once it was light out, it would warm up some.

I looked at my slimy ex-boyfriend, desperately wanting to be far, far away from him. 

It was time to go.

“Goodbye, Carl.”

As I quickly gathered up my things and walked out into the brisk morning air, I was hit with a pang of sadness.  I missed Brandon so much, and he was so far away.  Pretty soon he would be an entire ocean away.  Part of me wanted so badly to be with him, but I truly felt like I needed to know I could survive on my own.

I hoped I was making the right decision, and that the sexy musician who had stolen my heart would understand.  The last thing I wanted was to lose Brandon.  The mere thought of him no longer being in my life hurt like hell.

*****

There were no jobs to be had in the small, sleepy town and the realization was dismaying.

Actually, that wasn’t quite true.  There was a help wanted sign outside a small stationary store, but when I went inside to ask about applying, the manager wouldn’t meet my gaze.  Instead, she abruptly told me the position had already been filled.  Something similar happened when I asked about a job as a convenience store clerk at the local gas station.  It was bizarre.

When I walked out of the gas station, Carl was out there at the pumps filling up his car.  That was the thing about small towns:  it was impossible to avoid running into people you would rather not cross paths with.  Cursing under my breath, I lowered my head and averted my gaze, hoping I could get away unnoticed.

As I made my way out to the street, I tried to steer clear of Carl.  But it was no use. 

He saw me, and when he did he walked over, catching up with me near the side of the convenience store where the dumpsters were.  I found myself caught completely off guard and without an escape route.  Could my luck get any worse? 

Squaring my shoulders, I forced myself to raise my chin and meet his gaze head on.  Even if I didn’t feel up to dealing with him, I could at least act the part.  So I did my best to present myself as someone who was cool, calm and collected.  He was probably going to say something rude because he was undoubtedly furious that I hadn’t let him kiss me.  And I was determined not to let him see me react.

But to my astonishment, what he had to say wasn’t rude.

“You can stop by the diner for your last paycheck,” Carl informed me, stone faced.

That was unexpected.  I had been steeling myself for him to yell at me or something, or at the very least insult me like always.  But instead he had given me good news.  In fact, it was great news!  I could really use the money, and since I had earned it I had no qualms about taking it.

When I walked into the diner a short time later, the vast array of emotions that came over me was overwhelming.  As soon as the bells above the door jingled, I was struck by the familiarity of that diner. 

It was where I had gone to escape my home life.  For a time, it had been my safe place.  No one could hurt me under the bright fluorescent lights that could be heard humming ever so slightly when the diner was quiet.

But Carl
had
hurt me.  Little by little, he had chipped away at my self esteem in a selfish attempt to shape me into what he wanted.  He’d made me feel worthless and no good, hideous and unlovable.  He had convinced me I was trapped, and it hadn’t been until Brandon had come along that I had realized I did, in fact, have options.

Worse still, I had hurt myself. 

There had been countless nights when, after closing up, I had polished off uneaten pies and slices of chocolate cake.  It was either eat them or throw them out, so I had treated my body like a garbage disposal, filling it with trash that was no good for me.  I had binged until my belly ached, force feeding myself to the point of pain.  It was my way of inflicting punishment.

More recently, I had taken to purging in the ladies’ room after closing.  It had started one night after Carl had come by unexpectedly and caught me polishing off one of the leftover desserts.  The look of disgust on his face had made me feel so ashamed and out of control that I had gone straight into the bathroom and forced myself to vomit as soon as he left.

Pretty soon it had become routine. 

It was my dirty little secret...my way of atoning for my gluttonous ways.  But it had stopped being a secret one night when Carl had come by the diner to yell at me about something or other.  Unable to find me, he had barged into the ladies’ room unannounced and caught me in the act, my fingers down my throat and tears streaming down my cheeks.

He hadn’t said a word about it.  Instead, he had muttered, “I need you out front,” before turning on his heel and storming out.  Rightly or wrongly, his reaction – or lack thereof – had normalized my behavior.  I had started doing it more and more, making myself throw up after every meal.

It had only stopped once I had started to feel unwell.  The heart palpitations had scared me half to death.  Sometimes I was afraid I was going to have a heart attack as I retched over the toilet.  It had been enough to make me start fanatically counting calories and restricting my food intake instead, trading one unhealthy habit for another.

As I stood in the entrance of the diner and stared at the door to the ladies’ room, all those memories came flooding back to me.  Sure, there were good memories at the diner too.  My friendship with Angie was something I looked back on fondly, and it had only come about because we had both waitressed there. 

But the bad outweighed the good.

“Hey!” Cesar called out to me from across the diner, a platter full of appetizers he had prepared balanced on one arm.  As I watched, he delivered it to a table, paused to refill a couple water glasses and then made his way over to me.