Julian: A Dark Angel Series Companion Novella (Dark Angel #3) (7 page)

I continue to watch Charlie interact with her daughter. Even in her frail state, I am vulnerable staring at her beauty and everything she represented in my life. She was everything I wanted in a woman, everything I wanted in a soul mate. But what do you do when that whole life you envisioned, the one wrapped up in that neat little package along with white picket fences and minivans is slipping away from you?

Worse yet, what if you are the one pushing it away?

In the distance, the sound of sirens rings on repeat, the loud vexatious noise drawing closer to us. I scream for help, a worthless move considering the noise overpowers my pleas. The lights turn round the bend and the paramedics slow down, pulling alongside my car.

It is only a matter of moments before I see them run down the hill with their equipment and stretcher, followed by a distressed Lex.

“CHARLOTTE!”
He falls to the ground and is in shock by what he sees.

Cradling her body in his arms, it takes him a few seconds to realize she is holding the baby to her chest. The lady paramedic asks Lex to move out of the way so she can examine Charlie and the baby. Lex argues, but soon realizes his wife and baby need assistance.

The male paramedic is kneeling to the ground, assessing Charlie’s laceration. He turns his head to ask me what happened.

“I saw the car in the ditch and found her inside. She told me she crashed because she got a contraction.” I continue on. “I found her in the car but I couldn’t open the door. Her head was bleeding but it was a superficial cut. I asked her if she could move all her body parts and she said yes, so I gently got her through the trunk as I was paranoid the car would explode.” My heart is heavy at the thought. Someone was watching over us. “She said the baby was coming, but I could see she was blacking out so I kept talking to her to keep her conscious and then she pushed and the baby came out.”

The lady gives me a sympathetic smile. “You did well. Most people would panic in this situation. The best thing you could have done was keep her conscious.”

The paramedic cuts the umbilical cord and, with caution, they lift Charlie onto the stretcher. She cries for her baby, begging to take it with her. The paramedics explain to her that they need to get to the hospital and make sure both she and the baby are fine; they need to be under observation for the next forty-eight hours.

I watch Lex, distraught as he clutches for Charlie’s hand and reassures her everything is going to be fine.

And this moment becomes the hardest part, the moment my heart bleeds again. The moment I am tortured by my inability to control my emotions, to find any part of me worth the air I am breathing.

The weak smile on my face, a mask I wear, pretending that everything will be okay.

She will be okay with her family.

I will be okay on my own.

They are walking up the hill, but Lex turns to face me; I wait for his questions.

There are no words, just a look of anguish before he turns back around and climbs into the ambulance with Charlie.

I watch them drive away, and on the side of the road, in the dark night, my tears fall down and I drop to my knees.

It’s officially over.

I have no idea how I made it home. I’m paralyzed with that numbing feeling, the one that acts like a shield, erasing tonight’s events, tonight’s nightmare. The fear and terror of watching Charlie almost die in front of my eyes was replaying in my head, then that confusing thought of ‘what if I didn’t go to see her?’ Did this wrong move make it right? Screw the fate bullshit, someone was watching over Charlie. She had angels swarming over her like paparazzi, and so it should be. If anyone deserved to stay on this earth, it was Charlie.

Me…I was scum in the lowest form. I didn’t deserve anything, especially Charlie.

As I turn the key to my apartment, I hear voices. I don’t need this,
not now
. All I want to do is head straight to the shower and then to bed, leaving Tristan to his own devices.

Walking through the apartment, I see Tristan sitting on the couch with a familiar blonde. They are laughing and enjoying pizza and beer. He sees me and his expression changes. Concern, pity—yeah, I’m worthless. Kill me now.

“You look like shit, but hey, meet Claudia.” Tristan introduces the familiar-looking blonde with very big tits.

Very, very big tits.
No fucking way!

She looks at me, puzzled, then it clicks. “
Julian?”

I muster up the tiniest of smiles, and I mean it’s not even a smile, more like a ‘this is awkward’ glare. I really don’t need this shit right now.

“How do you know each other?” Tristan asks suspiciously.

I have no excuse; I’m too exhausted to even comprehend my actions. “Uh…we met at a bar. Listen, nice seeing you again. I’m beat, see you in the morning, Tristan.” I don’t even wait for a reaction before I head to the shower where I stand there stagnant, no emotion, nothing but emptiness, trying so hard to wash it all away. I sit down on the tiles, back against the wall, letting the water fall against my skin. The tears are solid, becoming deep sobs that cause my chest to ache in a way I have never felt before. I open my eyes enough to see my skin wrinkly from my time spent under the water. Making my way out, I wrap a towel around me, ready to head to bed. Sleep—my only salvation.

Opening the bathroom door, I see Tristan standing in the middle of the hallway with his bag. His fallen face turns to disgust as he sees me exit.

I really don’t need this.

“I’m fairly certain I know how you know Claudia. And you’re a fucking jerk. You knew she was my girlfriend.”

“Listen, kid, I had no idea—”

“Bullshit! It’s like you have no fucking idea how to deal with your own mess of a life so you have to ruin it for others.”

I’m looking for sympathy, trying to keep my voice down. “Look, I’ve had a terrible night—”

“What? You get busted for stalking your ex?”

Silence.

“I don’t need this.” I turn my back.

“Maybe you do need this. You are wasting your life. What the hell happened to you, huh? I used to look up to you, and just look at you. You’re just a huge fucking disappointment. Why the fuck are you so jaded?”

“I don’t need to answer to anyone.”

“Yeah, well, neither do I.” Tristan picks up his bag.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I sound parental; this isn’t what I signed up for.

“I’m staying with Eric. You need to sort yourself out, Julian. There’s only one road you’re heading down, and I’m telling you, it’s a dead end.”

He stops by the kitchen bench and throws me an envelope. “And here, an eviction notice.” He slams the door behind him.

I am officially alone.

After tonight’s events, there is nothing I want to do more than climb into a hole and rot away, but instead I head to my medicine cabinet and find my sleeping pills.

Sleeping pills or call my dealer.

For tonight, the pills win, but for how much longer? I have no idea.

The room is dark, the light fighting its way in.

The urge, the craving, it devours me.

Alone, I hear the gentle tap on my door. Gentle, yet it startles me.

I jump anxiously; it’s the monster that lurks under my bed, but he is on the other side of the door.

Like a frightened child, I open the door and succumb to the power he holds over me.

He opens his hand and I see the light illuminating the dark walls. My senses…there is a frenzy within me, taunting and teasing me, and the more it consumes me, I feel myself weaken.

I hand over the last of my money—my rent money.

And like a thief in the night, he disappears.

And I am alone again with the devil laced in white.

It’s all I have now.

No Chelsea.

No Charlie.

And I need to survive…
don’t I?

I am like venom; I hurt those around me, including myself.

I walk to the table and lay the white lace carefully in a line. I know the drill. I think about it every second of every day.

I lean down, inches away from the euphoria sweeping over me. But I feel a touch, a brush of a hand over my shoulder. I am hallucinating; I know I’m alone. I lean down again and the feeling repeats. I don’t look behind me. Instead, I close my eyes allowing my senses to focus.

There is a cool breeze in the room but the windows are shut.

“In the darkness, our savior will find us. It will drive us into the light.”

The voices, I hear them.

“In our weakness of times, find the strength, it lurks behind the shadows but it is watching, it is waiting to be asked for help.”

I have officially gone crazy.

“Those who live in the light only know the truth to living in the darkness. I am here, I am watching over you, I am guiding you. Be still, hear my words. The fallen will continue to fall without a savior amongst them.”

I listen; the voices disappear.

My chest is heavy. Chelsea’s voice, without a shadow of doubt, was echoing in my ear. I grab the white lace in my hand and walk over to the kitchen, emptying the contents in the sink and scrubbing my hands with scolding hot water until they are red and raw.

But the pain is nothing compared to what my heart feels.

And with that, I sink to the ground with the tears swallowing me whole, the sobs achingly loud, and I scream her name just like I did on the night of the fire.

The wood panels of the door become a big blur as I stay stagnant, gathering my thoughts. What am I going to say? And why the hell do I need to say anything?

Because he’s your nephew and you are the biggest douche for hurting your family.

I decide not to call ahead in case he won’t talk to me; I wouldn’t talk to me right now. My finger gently presses the buzzer and the sounds of ‘La Cucaracha’ echo in the background.

Only Eric would have a doorbell like that.

Relief washes over me when Eric is the one to open the door.  I don’t, however, appreciate his sympathetic gaze. Sure, I look like road kill, and there’s a chance I smell like it, too. If anyone was gonna give me grief about my appearance, it would be Eric.

“Hey, Batman,” Eric says with a small smile. “I’ll just grab him.”

Eric walks away and I stand uncomfortably in the living room taking in my surroundings. Eric, being Eric, definitely knows what style means. His apartment is decorated like a photo shoot from a Martha Stewart book. I actually see a photo of Martha Stewart in a frame against a back wall. I want to laugh, but it doesn’t quite connect with my face.

There is a white leather sofa smothered with a million pillows perfectly positioned: different colors, textures and oriental patterns. Looking around, I notice more Oriental pieces. He is true to his heritage; even a Buddha is sitting on a floating shelf. There are other ornaments surrounding it and a line of books sitting between bookends. On closer inspection, the bookends are of two male statues doing it doggy-style. Where on Earth does he find this shit?

There is a creak in the room; I turn around to see Tristan who is avoiding eye contact with me. I couldn't feel any smaller right now. What kind of a fucking role model am I?

"Hey, mate." Jesus, the nerves are coming out.

He remains quiet, then clears his throat. "Channeling your inner Aussie?" 

"I'm trying here. Look, I had no idea. I would never intentionally sleep with someone you were seeing,” I confess.

"I'm not pissed. Well, I
was
pissed. You can have her."

"Tristan, it was a one-time thing. I'm not after a serious relationship. I've got a lot of things I need to work through."

His eyes meet mine, and just like in Eric’s, I see pity. "I know, and I don't know what to say. I'm sorry, too. Maybe I could have done something to help you."

"Well, I'm glad you didn't. Charlie wouldn't be alive if you had stopped me."

"You really loved her, didn't you?" he asks.

I hesitate. "I did
. I do
. Just not the way she deserves." It was the god honest truth. "So when are you coming back home?"

He places his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth. “I’m kinda hoping I can bum here until Eric kicks me out.”

It was a small kick in the guts, a much deserved one.

“Sure, just don’t be a stranger, okay? I’m gonna miss your damn PlayStation.” I chuckle.

“Yeah, maybe…I might be back soon. It hasn’t been unpacked. Eric says part of the roommate agreement is no electrical devices that do not have the intention of getting you off.” Tristan rolls his eyes.

Eric yells from the balcony, “I heard that eye-rolling!”

“I better go.” My face softens as I attempt to walk away.

In a sudden move, Tristan pulls me into a hug. It’s exactly what I need, a small reminder that maybe there are people who do care about me. Maybe I need to stop being a self-absorbed asshole and open my eyes to see that others around me need attention.
The world doesn’t revolve around you, Julian Baker, and the quicker you figure that out, the quicker you can go live your life.

Patting him on the back, acknowledging his kind gesture, I pull away and head towards the door, but not before Eric yells again. “By the way, you look like shit! And it wouldn’t hurt you to take a shower. Sheesh!”

With Tristan gone I was able to take some leave off work and bury myself in my manuscript. Two weeks of living on cheap packet noodles and coffee. Showering was unheard of, even after Eric’s caustic outburst, and I grew this beehive beard. At first it irritated me, but I soon got over it and now I swear, bees could nest in there.

With money running low, or should I say non-existent, I cancelled my gym membership and reverted to running through the neighborhood each morning and night to burn off the frustration I was feeling. I ignored visiting any place where there was a chance of running into Charlie; on the plus side I was meeting new people, like the old lady down the road who offered me a glass of homemade lemonade every time I ran past. Not wanting to be rude as well as being extremely thirsty, I took her up on her offer, and homemade lemonade soon became baked shortbread moving onto chicken pot-pie. Needless to say, I was well fed, and noodles soon became a distant memory.

Late one morning, I hit send and the email is officially sitting in Mr. Grimmer’s inbox. Leaning my back against the chair, I crack my knuckles one by one in attempt to relieve the tension. Thirty hours straight with no sleep, so to say I’m exhausted is an understatement. The worst part is that somewhere in the past twenty hours, I realized I hadn’t gotten laid in what seemed like forever and hadn’t even thought about jerking off…until now.

Clean slate, just unadulterated raw sex, no names and no identities. Grabbing my phone, I type in the URL till the page is smothered with every fantasy possible. Clicking on the girl-on-girl porn, I watch for a few minutes attempting to stroke myself, but with no relief.

An hour later, it feels like Mission Impossible, until I stumble on a Brazilian gangbang and gee was she in for a special treat with the ten guys hovering over her.

Exactly one minute and ten seconds was all it took.

Now I was spent.

I start to doze off until an annoying sound chimes, startling me from my slumber. I am tempted to ignore it, but thinking it could be Mr. Grimmer, I reach to the floor where I left it last and pull it to my face to read.

Hi Julian, Hope all is well. I would love to catch up with you just to say thank you for everything you did for me, if that’s ok. Would you be able to meet us at the park in an hour? Charlie

It’s the last person I expected, and it’s testing my strength. I was finally moving on, not to mention she used the word ‘us’. Lex wouldn’t allow her to see me, and surely if he did, he would hover over us like a vulture ready to feed on a carcass. There was a part of me, however small it may be, that felt like I owed her this. Whether it was closure, gratitude, whatever the fuck you want to call it, and with that in mind, I text back agreeing to meet. It’s only seconds later that she responds with a time and place.

An hour later, I am sitting on a park bench, showered and shaved. The beard would scare the children; it wasn’t like I trying to impress Charlie. Waiting in anticipation, my hands begin to feel clammy, the sun not helping my cause.

Children are darting in and out of the playground, oblivious to anything happening around them. It makes me think about children, family, that whole marriage bullshit. I am thirty fucking three; time is wearing thin to start a family. Not to mention, meeting a woman who I want to share my life with. It was a life I wasn’t sure I wanted anymore, yet it was flashing before my eyes—what I could be missing out on. Reality hits a few moments later when I get hit in the head with some action figure that a kid throws in the air.

Perhaps that annoying little shit should learn how to act in public.

Yeah, maybe I’m not missing out on anything.

At first I hear the voices, forcing me to look in that direction. Charlie is only a few feet away, pushing one of those prams that looks like a hovercraft. As I suspected, she is not alone. Lex is standing behind her, watching me with an uncharted look. He bends down to kiss Charlie on the cheek and walks away, tailing his daughter who has run off to the swings.

Charlie welcomes me with a warm smile, taking a seat beside me on the park bench. She is wearing a pair of shorts and a shirt with DC characters on it. Tristan and Charlie would have a lot in common. She continues to smile and it’s impossible to ignore the glow that illuminates her beautiful skin. I can’t thank the lord enough. She looks healthy.
Alive.

Remember, that’s what you wanted, to walk away with Charlie alive and happy.

“Hey.” She smiles. She appears to be nervous, fidgeting with a loose hem fraying on her shorts. It only lasts a few moments before the baby lets out a wail, distracting Charlie from our awkward silence. With ease, she gently picks up the baby from the pram and cradles her in her arms. The wailing becomes softer, and without too much intervention, the girl is settled and quiet.

I manage to muster up what I can; Lex’s stare stops me from anything further.

“So, this is her?” I keep my expression to no more than a faint smile.

Charlie beams as she talks about her daughter. “This is Ava Lily Edwards.”

“She’s grown so much, a beautiful girl. I’m really happy for you.”

“That means a lot to me, Julian.” She pauses as if she is choosing her words carefully. I know Charlie well, she is outspoken and at times, she and Eric are like two peas in a pod. She is known for being blunt, yet still knows the meaning of tact and manners. Unlike Eric who was born with the verbal diarrhea gene.

“The reason I called you is that both Lex and I wanted to thank you…” Her eyes are drawn to him as she says his name, and the connection between them is indisputable. It’s almost like you could see a magnetic force pulling them to each other. I’m not completely immune to jealously, yet I know where I stand with Charlie and that’s not by her side as her husband and father to her children. What the hell am I doing here, rubbing a bottle of salt in a wound? And I mean, of gigantic proportions. They are a happy family, I get it. And I am a nobody.

She continues to speak. “I know Lex may not show it, but he is as thankful as am I that you saved us. I don’t care what you were doing, Julian. All I care about is that this little girl survived and without you…it wouldn’t have happened.”

The twisting pain in my stomach returns along with that feeling of not knowing whether to be remorseful for my actions or grateful for my mistakes.

Lex is standing at the swings, pushing his daughter. His eyes are watching me, a mixed look of bewilderment and frustration before he turns away and continues to push his daughter. He doesn’t look like he wants to kill me, but he doesn’t wear a smile either.

“Julian. I know what I did in the past was wrong. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did. Things should have ended with you before I got involved with Lex. I don’t regret the outcome, I just wish people hadn’t been caught in the crossfire in the process.”

“Charlie, it’s done. We’ve moved on.” Simple words. I am a man, after all. Women, however, need to elaborate on their feelings like they’re writing a novel or something.

“I know, Julian, but despite all that…I think you need help.”

I can hear the sincerity in her voice. She has obviously been thinking about approaching me. I know first-hand it’s never easy to host an intervention, let alone be on the receiving end. Of course I need help, I just don’t know how to get it.

Allowing myself to absorb her words, I continue to watch the children playing around me. Her daughter Amelia has now left the swings and made friends with a boy sitting in the sand pit. All is well until another boy enters the area and catches her attention. She forgets about boy number one, turns her back to him and begins to build sand castles with the new boy.

Like mother like daughter.

“I say that as someone who loves you. Maybe not the way you want to be loved, but I genuinely love you for everything you have done for me. It hurts me to see you hurting. I want to see you live your life and be happy. You deserve the best.”

Hearing Charlie say she loves me is enough for me to realize that this part of my life is well over. I can sit and dwell—more like sit and snort—or move on and create a new life for myself. Away from Charlie, away from the temptations that lurk around me.

The conversation is short-lived as Amelia runs towards us. She’s wearing a Batman t-shirt with a cape and little black gumboots and is covered in sand. She doesn’t seem to care, though; what is it with kids and sand pits?

“Mommy! Can I take baby Ava on the swings?”

Charlie touches her cheek, a motherly gesture that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Buggy, she’s too little. Why don’t you call Daddy over?”

Great, showdown.

“I’m not Buggy anymore, I’m Batman! See, look at my cape!”

The irony.
If it wasn’t for her emerald green eyes and everything about her face that mirrored Lex’s, you could seriously question her paternity.

Charlie lets out a small giggle. “Yeah, I know what you’re thinking.”

Her laugh is infectious and I can’t help but laugh along with her. “So she likes Batman?”

“Uh huh, been obsessed with him ever since she saw him at her cousin’s birthday last year. She’s a crazy one. She keeps lady bugs as pets. Had like twenty of them in her room, hence why she got the name ‘Buggy’. We thought having a daughter meant tea parties and an overload of pink but let me tell you, it’s been everything but.” Charlie’s smile remains fixed. Even though her daughter may be a tomboy, you can see the proud look on her face. “Eric even bought her this fancy kids’ tea set from London for her birthday. She opened the present and ran off to find Rocky because his present to her was a basketball. She loves to watch the Lakers play.”