Keep Me (Beggar's Choice #3) (17 page)

Bram shields me with his body, pushing me towards the door
where Matt and Charlie are waiting and leaving the brawl behind. “Are you
alright?” Matt shouts and I stare in disbelief as Bram laughs, his face full of
unholy glee.

“Fucking awesome man.” He shouts something else that I can’t
hear and then Matt grabs him around the collar scuffling him out of the door.

We erupt onto the pavement and stare at the lit windows of
the bar and even I can hear the sounds of smashing and shouting. Bram laughs.
“Wow!” he exclaims throwing his arm out. “Did you see that bloke go down like a
sack of fucking shit? One punch, boom!” He then dances around singing what
appears to be the ‘
Rocky’
theme and kissing his biceps.

Charlie sways alarmingly. “Shall we go and get another
drink?” he slurs and makes as if he’s going back in the bar.

“Oh no mate,” Matt says, grabbing him. “You’ve had enough
Charlie. You go in there and you’ll need a lawyer to get you out.”

Charlie straightens pointing at Matt which might be
threatening if he was actually looking at Matt rather than a lamp post. “I
don’t need a fucking lawyer. There’s too many lawyers in this world don’t you
agree Al… Aly. Fuck I can’t say your fucking name.”

I squeak as he grabs me gifting me a lovely whiff of his
expensive aftershave and a feel of his hard warm body, and then I shriek as
gravity overcomes him and we lurch towards the pavement. “Hey,” shouts Bram and
suddenly he’s there shoving Charlie. “You’ll fucking hurt her Charlie. Don’t
you fucking touch her ever again you understand.”

Charlie staggers back holding his hands up. “Sorry Bram I
forgot. Must not touch the Al … Al … the Ally.” Unfortunately he staggers back
too far, trips over a rubbish bin, and after doing a graceful pirouette he
passes out in a gorgeous, drunken heap on the pavement.

We all stare at him for a second and then Matt sighs. “Oh
spiffing,” he mutters and I get a sudden attack of the giggles. “No really,
what a fucking fantastic night. Bram, help me get him up before someone
realises who he is and gets their phone out.”

The two men wrestle him into a horizontal position and then
swing him up, Matt taking his feet and Bram taking his head and shoulders.
“Come on,” Matt orders. “Let’s get out of here before the police get here.”
They take two staggering steps and then come to a halt as a beautiful brunette
woman steps in front of them.

“Excuse me,” she says. “But are you Bram O’Connell?”

Bram sighs. “I might be,” he mutters and then tries to move
again.

“Can I have an autograph?”

Bram pauses in obvious disbelief. “What
now?”

She looks at him seriously. “Yes, is that okay?”

He looks down at Charlie and I hastily pull his beanie down
over his distinctive face.

Bram hesitates. “I’ve not really got a hand free at the
moment,” he says but she doesn’t move, staring at him and twirling her hair
flirtatiously while completely ignoring Charlie’s prostrate form.

Matt sighs and lowers Charlie’s legs. “Might as well,” he says
long sufferingly.

Bram groans and puts Charlie down and reaching into his back
pocket he produces a sharpie and signs her chest which she quickly exposes for
him. “And a selfie?” she asks quickly and Matt and I slump as we watch her take
what seems like a thousand photos. Finally done Bram grabs Charlie’s shoulders
and he and Matt lift him up, and that’s when she seems to notice him.

“Is that a friend of yours?” she asks in a high voice.

Stone faced Bram stares at her. “No, I don’t know him.”

She looks vaguely surprised. “What are you doing with him
then?”

Bram winks at me and then turns back to her. “I’m just
taking him home for sex.”

“Oh my God,” she shrieks and runs off, her high heels
clopping on the pavement.

Matt sighs. “Stop hiding behind the cloak of homosexuality
Bram.”

Bram laughs. “Fuck I can’t believe she fell for that. I’m
fucking Bram O’Connell. If I was gay I wouldn’t be picking up comatose randoms.
I’d be doing someone really hot.”

I stare at him and Matt stops walking. “Like who?” he smirks.

Bram considers it. “Erm well Charlie Hunnam or that Joe
Manganiello. He’s a strapping bloke. I think he could handle me.” He looks
sternly at Matt. “No slapping the salami over that one Matthew.”

“Ew!” I shriek and Matt sneers. “Why not?”

“That’s precious and just between me and Joe. Don’t besmirch
our love.” Bram is laughing quite hard now very obviously drunk and carefree,
and suddenly anger courses through me.

“What was that all about then?” I snap gesturing back to the
pub.

Matt freezes with the air of someone who wishes that he were
anywhere else, but Bram’s too drunk to be wary yet.

“What was what?”

“You punching that bloke.”

“Alys he fucking deserved it.”

“No he didn’t. He was just being friendly.”

He gives a sneering laugh and I can safely say that if I had
hackles they would be rising. “Alys he was a bloody star fucker. He’d clocked
who Charlie and I were ages before and he wanted a piece of what he thought
we’d had so that he could fucking brag to his mates.”

I see Matt groan and lower his head and when I speak my
voice is ice cold. “So what you’re actually saying is that I am unable to
attract men, and in fact the only way that the male species would be attracted
to me is as an extension of your famous and all round fabulous fucking self.”

Drunk as he is he obviously scents danger. “No, I didn’t
mean it like that. It’s just him, he was a complete twat.”

“And you managed to sum him up in twenty seconds did you
because that’s how long you spoke to him? Well how astute of you, how fucking
discerning. It’s almost like a bloody superpower.”

I can see him getting angry now and Matt stirs, dropping
Charlie’s feet. “Now come on you two let’s not …”

“Shut up!” we both shout and then instantly turn on each
other again nose to nose, bristling with anger that seems to have come from
nowhere. “He had his hand on you,” Bram shouts.

“Well that’s a bloody capital offense,” I shout back. “Let’s
string him up now because God forbid that I should have sex. We have to leave that
to you, the King of the Pantyless Women.”

He recoils. “You wanted to have
sex
with him?” He
sounds almost winded but I ignore it forging ahead with my rage which has been
bubbling for weeks watching him with woman after woman and turning me down like
I was a fucking leper.

“I might have done. He was a fucking good looking bloke.
Sexy. You don’t bloody own me Bram. I can and will have a fucking sex life. I
don’t belong to you and you don’t belong to me, that’s right isn’t it? So now
you can go on screwing all those models until you run out and the government
has to clone some new ones.”

I’m distantly aware that he has shut down, his face cold
with only a madly banging tic in his jaw to show his agitation. “Alys,” Matt
says and Bram makes a gesture.

“No Matt, mind your own fucking business. Alys was just
enlightening me on the fact that I’m a total slut and she’s going to go out
banging as many pretty boys as she can. That’s what you were saying isn’t it?”
He turns his cold face to me.

“Yes that’s right,” I say defiantly. “Because it doesn’t
mean anything to you does it?”

“No it doesn’t,” he says clearly and coldly, making sure
that I can see his face. “It means fuck all to me.” 

Alys

After that night our relationship drifts into Cold War territory.
When I see him he acknowledges me coldly, but that’s it. He won’t talk or laugh
with me and it’s like I’m the unwanted guest that I’d always thought I was at
the beginning.

I’ve started to stay out later and later unwilling to go
back to an empty flat as he’s hardly in, or worse to an occupied one as he’ll
shag his women anywhere now with little regard as to how I’ll feel when I catch
them. It’s almost as if he’s taunting me and stating that this is the real him.
I’ve lost track of the times that I’ve seen him shagging someone, and at night
I twist and turn unable to get his beautiful body out of my head thrusting into
yet another vapid beauty.

The women don’t help either as there seems to be a never
ending procession of models and actresses sitting across from me at the
breakfast table, wearing very little and treating me like the maid.

I’ve therefore taken to stopping at Elen’s house, enjoying
the respite from what seems like a re-enactment of the last days of the Roman
Empire. Only yesterday I’d walked in on him fucking two women on the couch.
He’d been energetically fucking one of the girls while the other girl licked
her friend’s pussy and porn played loudly on the TV. I’d refused to give him
the satisfaction of showing how upset I was. Instead I’d walked straight out
and gone to Elen.

I know he’s noticed that I’m not sleeping there but rather
than being grateful he appears to be getting angrier every day, and tonight
when I let myself into the flat at two in the morning his mouth is so thin that
it’s almost disappeared. I’d actually not expected him to be there as he’d been
at an awards ceremony tonight so I’m surprised to find him sitting on the
settee tapping his long fingers on his thigh. “Hello,” I call out making sure
that it sounds cheery. He says nothing, just stares at me those fingers still
keeping up the tapping.

“Where have you been?” he finally asks coldly, and I wince
inside missing so much the way that we were.

“Out,” I finally offer.

“With who?”

“None of your business.” I won’t tell him that I’ve been
licking my wounds at Elen’s house. Let him think that I’ve been making a head
start on that red hot sex life I’d promised.

He surges to his feet, welcome rage replacing the previous
apathy. “Well I
do
think it’s my business.”

My rage suddenly dies and although I search hard for it,
it’s inconveniently vanished and all I can feel is sadness that this is where
we are. I look at him and underneath the anger I finally see the pain which
makes me say, “Please Bram let’s not do this to each other. Let’s …” I pause
and he looks at me hope filling his face, but then a door opens and in strolls
Amber dressed in only a bra and panties.

At first I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Women in lingerie
are obviously not a novelty. I mean some days it’s like being backstage at a
Victoria’s Secret show in this flat, but Amber … he’s taken it too far now. He
knows full well that she hates me after the night that he fucked her and
chucked her. We’d discussed it a few months ago and for some reason this feels
like the biggest betrayal that he could make.

I know that he’s going to sleep with women. He won’t sleep
with me and as much as that hurts I’ve accepted it, but they’re famous women in
their own right and they appear and disappear without me having to see them
again. However, Amber’s different. This is personal. I feel my spine get stiff
as I turn to glare stonily at him. A flash of panic runs over his face and he
wrings his hands, but I ignore the pleading looks and turn back to the pantied
one.

“Hello Amber,” I say, and I’m relieved at how calm and cold
I sound. “This is an unexpected surprise.”

She smirks. “Hello Alys.” She’s talking in an insultingly
loud voice, over pronouncing her words as if she’s talking to the village
idiot.

I feel Bram shift and hear him say something to her but I’m
fucking damned if I’ll ask him to repeat himself in front of her. Instead I
make myself smile pityingly at her. “I’m so sorry,” I say clearly and slowly.
“I didn’t
know
.”

“Didn’t know what?” she asks sharply, reverting back to her
normal tone.

“That you had a speech impediment.”

“I bloody do not,” she says indignantly. Looking up I catch
Bram’s face contorting with humour, and then he looks up and catches my eye and
just for a second it’s like we’re us again, a team against anyone else that’s
looking to be horrible. But then Amber stirs and slides next to him wrapping
her thin arms around his cut hipbones. “Can we help you Alys?” she asks
snootily as if she’s the lady of the house and I’m one of those cold callers.

I stare at Bram, ignoring her completely as he tries to
remove her arms without hurting her but she’s got a grip like a tiny blonde
octopus, and I feel my mouth lift into a sneer. “No I don’t think so,” I finally
say coldly. “I don’t see anything here that I need thank you.”

Bram flinches but it happens so quickly that it’s almost
imperceptible, and then his face settles into a stoical mask and he slides his
arm around Amber looking at me almost challengingly and I know that’s my cue.
“Well I have to be going,” I say clearly.

Bram’s head jerks up. “Going? Going
where
– it’s
fucking two in the morning.”

I make myself laugh out loud. “Oh Bram sometimes you’re such
a fucking granddad. That’s not late. There’s plenty going on at this time.”

Amber stirs forcing herself back into the conversation with
her invisible crowbar. “Yes Bram, let her go if she’s got a party to go to.”
She gives me an extremely false look of concern. “Just be careful babe not to
get into trouble.”

I stare at her marvelling at her terrible parental
impression and something snaps. “Hmm trouble.” I stroke my chin in
contemplation. “What, you mean like being back in a rock star’s bed months
after he fucked you and couldn’t put you in a taxi quick enough? Like being so
desperate that you’ll take all the scraps that you can get because you’re a
desperate star fucker? That sort of trouble?”

Her face goes completely red which is not a good colour on
her, and I know that our antipathy is now out of the closet and from now on
she’s not going to pretend to be my friend. However, for now she can’t quite
find the words, so taking the opportunity I whisk past her and Bram ignoring
his sudden move to stop me and waltz out of the flat calling out goodnight.

I don’t come back from Elen’s until the next afternoon when
Bram is usually sure to be out, but when I walk through the door I stop dead in
surprise at the music which is blasting out at ear melting decibels. It’s
combined with the noise of a lot of people talking and shouting. I hesitate
because this sounds like a party and if Bram’s throwing it then I might not
want to be here.

I’m just about to edge back out the door when Bram darts
into the foyer. He says something, his arms flailing like a windmill, and I
make a gesture to say that I can’t hear him for the background noise. Nodding
agitatedly he grabs my arm and ignoring my startled cry of ‘oy’ he manoeuvres
me out of the foyer and through the first door which is the gym. The door falls
shut with a muffled thud and I sigh in relief as silence descends, courtesy of
the soundproof walls.

Finally recollecting myself I look at Bram. “What the hell?
Why are we in here? Are you having a party?”

He shakes his head, no sign of our previous antipathy
crossing his face. Instead he looks agitated and unsure.

“What’s the matter?” I ask cautiously and he runs his hand
through his hair peering at the door as if he can see through it. “Oh my God
what have you done Bram? What’s going on out there that I can’t see?”

He smirks looking blessedly normal for a second and then
shakes his head.
“I
haven’t done anything. It’s Charlie.”

“Oh my God is he drunk again?”

He smiles wryly. “You could say that or you could say that
he’s blotto, fuck-faced, lathered - whichever of those you favour.”

“Why is he drunk and why is he here and who are all those
people?”

He makes a
slow
down
gesture. “He arrived in
the middle of the night. He hasn’t been sober since he woke up, and fuck knows
who those people are. They just turned up.”

I’m flabbergasted. “
What
and you didn’t ask them why
they were here?”

He looks slightly shamefaced. “The way things have been
lately I sort of thought that I might have invited them and couldn’t remember.”

I shake my head at him and then rub my eyes. “I can’t even
get into the inherent wrongness that is you now inviting randoms into your
house and forgetting about it. Let’s concentrate on Charlie. What’s happened
because I know that he likes a drink but this is ridiculous?”

He looks relieved probably because I’m the only sober person
that he can talk to at the moment, and I can’t deny that I’m enjoying the
temporary ceasefire between us and that feeling of deep friendship which seems
to sit close to the surface between us whatever happens.

He gestures for me to sit so I perch precariously on the
edge of the rowing machine and look at him expectantly. “Something happened
with Mabe last night.”

“Not another argument over the lawyer?”

“No, or at least not at first. From what I can gather and
he’s not exactly coherent, he slept with her last night.”

“What?”

“Fuck!” he swears, holding his hands over his ears. “That
was fucking high Al. I think I might be deaf now too.”

I flap my hands at him. “Never mind
you,
this is
great. They go together like …” I pause.

“Cheese and onion,” he offers.

“Well I would have gone for something more romantic but hey
okay.” He smiles but then I veer back on subject. “But wait, surely if they’re
together he’d be home with her happy and instead he’s …”

“Here,” he offers helpfully. “I know oh Mistress of the
Bleeding Obvious. Apparently her phone went off in the middle of the night and
it was a load of sexts from that lawyer bloke.”

“Oh my God. So what did she say when he told her?”

He rubs his hand over his hair. “Erm.”

I stare at him. “He didn’t say anything did he?”

“Not exactly.”

“Not exactly? Bram did he just walk out in the middle of the
night?”

“Bingo!” he says unhappily.

“Fuck Bram, he’s worse at relationships than you.”

“Hey,” he says crossly.

“Whatever Trevor you know it’s the truth. So have you talked
to him, told him to go home and speak to Mabe? Have you told him that it’s
probably a big mistake?” He shuffles his feet staring at the treadmill rather
than looking at me. “Oh my God you haven’t done that. What have you done then?”

“Erm we wrote some music and then listened to some music and
erm …”

“Drank?” I offer sweetly and he glares at me.

“Alys we’re men. I said to him ‘
do you want to talk about
it’
and he said no, so …”

“So?”

“So we didn’t. Don’t look at me like that you fucking Irish
witch. So what would you have done in my place?”

“Hmm let me think. Oh maybe
made
him talk.”

He shakes his head. “I never thought about that.”

I sigh heavily. “Okay enough dissecting of your idiocy. We
need to go out there and you need to get rid of all those really wanted guests.
Then we need to sober him up and get him home.”

We emerge into the madhouse and fight our way through a huge
crowd in the lounge, mostly composed I note of scantily clad women. The noise is
immense and I sigh with relief when Bram shoves his way to the stereo and
switches it off leaving blissful silence for a second until it’s drowned out by
boos. Bram stands on the coffee table and puts his fingers in his mouth and
lets out a piercing whistle. “Okay you fuckers. Party’s over. Get out.”

For a second I wonder if they’re going to obey but I needn’t
have worried. For all his amiability there’s a side to Bram that shows itself
occasionally that says very strongly that he can look after himself and he’ll
fuck you up if you cross him. As the crowd thins I groan at the sight of the
dirty glasses and bottles everywhere and the cloying odour of dope in the air.
Then I see Charlie slumped in all his handsome glory on one of the settees.
Looking up he spots me. “Alys,” he shouts. “Hey it’s Alys everyone.”

I wave ironically to the nobody that is left and sit down
next to him. And then tense as who should saunter into the room but Amber who
is dressed in
my
clothes. She’s wearing my bloody grey sweater dress
which makes me doubly mad because it was what I was wearing the last time
things were okay between Bram and I. “Amber,” I say through clenched teeth and
hear Bram say ‘
shit’
and make his way over from the door where he’s been
waving people off like he’s a mum with party bags.

“Alys,” she sneers and then waves at her outfit. “You don’t
mind me borrowing your clothes do you? Bram ripped mine off me and he said it
was okay to borrow something from you.” I turn to glare at Bram who looks
dumbfounded and yet still attractive damn him, before turning back to her.

“Not at all,” I say frostily.

She laughs. “That’s good, although they’re very big on me.
You’re a very
healthy
looking girl aren’t you?”

“Never mind,” I say coldly. “The extra space will come in
useful for the ten ton of celebrity semen that you must be carrying around
these days.”

“Oh God,” Bram groans and Charlie laughs out loud. I
blatantly turn my back on her and turn to Charlie.

“You okay babe?” I ask and he slumps, pushing his head back
against the cushions.

“Not really Alys.” He pauses. “Hey you’re a woman.”