Metal Urge (19 page)

“Oi!  What're you doing?”  Thom pushed her hand away and turned up the volume.  “I think this is a bloody good song.”

“Yeah, it’s totally Beatlesque,” Jayson chimed in and added, “It reminds me of my gorgeous Penny Laine 'cause I can’t get
her
out of my head.”

Penny threw her arms around him, kissing his face and laughing.

Thom stared at Deanna incredulously as she quickly turned away to stare out of the side window, wrapping her arms around herself like a protective shield.

“What is it, baby?”  He reached over to stroke her trembling arm.

“Don’t call me baby!”  She snapped, pushing his hand away.  She wanted to scream right into Thom's reddening face that Nigel had called her baby right before taking her in his arms and kissing her at the club just a few hours ago.  “What do you think about that my sweet guitar man?” she asked him silently.  “Bet you couldn't handle knowing the bastard kissed “your girl,” and she kissed him right back.  Eagerly, hungrily, and desperately.”  She leaned her throbbing head against the window and closed her eyes hoping to block her memories of the awful evening out of her mind.  How could she be so stupid and pathetic?  How could she do that to Thom?

Everyone went silent as Thom switched off the radio.  “Jayson, I think it would be best if I dropped you and Penny off at your flat.  We‘ll have that night cap another time.”

“Yeah, of course.  No problem, mate.”  Jayson cuddled Penny, shaking his head when she started to speak.

Turning the car around, Thom drove towards Camden Town where Jayson and Penny now shared a flat.  They rode in silence, and Thom could feel his temper rising.  It was one thing for Deanna to act childish and moody in front of him---he knew the hellish nightmare she had been through.  It was quite another for her to throw a tantrum in front of their friends.  He was hurt, embarrassed, and completely mystified as to the cause of her sudden, bizarre change in mood.

Thom said nothing until they were inside of their flat with the door locked and bolted.  He grabbed Deanna’s arm before she could run upstairs to the safety of her bedroom.  “Would you care to tell me the reason behind your Jekyll and Hyde episode tonight?”

“No.  Now let go of me.”

He pulled her into the living room, forcing her to sit on the couch.  He sat beside her, his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation, but Deanna refused to speak or to look at him.  “I don’t want to get angry with you love, but you’re really pushing it.”  He waited a few minutes for her to speak but she sat as stiff and unmoving as a stone statue, tears rolling down her face, dripping onto the bodice of her dress.  “What the hell happened at the club, Deanna?  You were fine until you came back from the toilet.”  Thom sighed and leaned back against the plush sofa pillows.  He didn’t want to be cruel but he had to snap her out of this disturbing fugue. “Did you see or hear something that reminded you of Nigel or the baby or what?”

She flinched away from him, making him even angrier.

“Come off it, Deanna.  This is bollocks!”

She began to laugh, a mad, shrill sound that made him cringe.  He didn’t try to stop her when she launched herself off of the couch and up the stairs still laughing and crying like she was having some sort of breakdown.  Thom rubbed his face wanting desperately to believe that her strange behavior was the result of too much liquor.  Perhaps it had lowered her defenses causing her to have flashbacks of the night she lost her baby.  He was grasping at straws but something had freaked her out.  If only she would talk to him...  “Piss on it,” he grumbled as he stalked angrily to his bedroom.

A strange noise woke Thom. He struggled to push off the heavy bed clothes and sit up, but a pair of arms wrapped tightly around him pulling him back down.

“I’m so sorry, Thom,” Deanna murmured against his shoulder.  “I acted like a total ass tonight.”

She kissed his shoulder, and he turned over gathering her in his arms.  “How long have you been here?” he asked, nuzzling her soft curls.

“I came in after you fell asleep.  I wanted to be close to you, but I was afraid you were too angry to let me sleep with you tonight.”

“My sweet girl, I could never be that angry with you.”

Deanna ran her fingers through his hair enjoying the feel of the long, silken strands as they brushed against her face.  “I’m still your girl?”  She searched his beautiful blue eyes hoping that he really had forgiven her.

Thom cupped her face and smiled, his thumbs caressing the velvety skin of her cheeks.  “You will always be my girl, Deanna.  Always.”

Chapter 25

Nigel patiently stirred the eggs, sprinkling in bits of cheddar cheese, and crispy bacon along with a generous helping of cubed ham.  He turned the heat down to let the gooey concoction bubble and simmer slowly and glanced over at the London Times spread out on the table.  He was anxious to sit down and eat his substantial breakfast while skimming over the latest world news.  As he popped two slices of bread into the toaster he heard someone clear their throat and turned around to see who it was.

“Well, well,” Maggi Atwell drawled.  “Isn’t this just a heart-warming domestic scene?”

Nigel huffed and turned back to the toaster.  “I must be asleep and in the throes of a horrible nightmare,” he retorted.

“Ouch,” Maggi smirked.  She opened the refrigerator and began to rifle through its contents.  When she closed the door Nigel was staring at her, his mouth tight with distaste.

“Why haven’t you disappeared?  Surely you’re nothing more than a bad piece of meat or something equally unpleasant I ate before going to bed last night,” he said, frowning at her.

Maggi breezed past him, wearing nothing but one of Nick’s shirts which barely skimmed the tops of her thighs, and sat at the table, opening a section of the Times.

Nigel walked up to her and snatched the paper out of her hands.

“That’s no way to treat a guest.  Nick’s guest in case you hadn’t figured it out.”  Her gaze traveled over his bare chest and she smiled lasciviously.  “Are you cold or just excited to see me again?”

Her leering grin made Nigel want to cover his chest with the section of newspaper clutched in his hand.  The bitch knew how to push his buttons every time.  “Don’t flatter yourself,” he snapped.  “The only thing you excite is my revulsion.”

“Lame, Nigel, very lame.”  Maggi studied her nails, turning her fingers this way and that, making Nigel’s pulse race with anger.  She looked up at him, her expression smug.  “I’ll be spending a lot of time here.  Nick and I have become very close.”

“Poor sod,” Nigel said and turned back to his scrambled eggs.

“Who’s a poor sod?” Nick asked as he strolled into the kitchen.  He pulled Maggi up out of her chair and hugged her tightly, kissing her soundly on the mouth once, and then a second time.

Nigel shivered with disgust at the intimacy between the two.  Nick obviously had no idea what an evil viper Maggi Atwell was, and it was obvious that she had already sunk her venomous fangs into the unsuspecting bloke, filling him with her poison.  “Shit!” Nigel thought angrily.  He would be forced to look for another place to live and he liked it here.

Nick released Maggi and walked over to Nigel to peer over his shoulder.  “Smells delicious, mate.”

Dumping the eggs onto a plate, Nigel handed it to Nick.  “It’s all yours.  I’m sure there's enough for two.”  He pointed to the toaster.  “Two slices of toast as well so bon appetite.”

Nick watched curiously as Nigel gathered up the Times and left the kitchen with a nod to him and Maggi.

“Wasn’t that nice of him, babe?” Maggi said.  She snatched a piece of the fragrant concoction and put it in her mouth.  “Mm, lovely.”  She led Nick to the table and coaxed him to sit down.  “I’ll butter the toast and get the jam out of the fridge.”

“Get another plate, lovey,” Nick said while scooping up a forkful of the steaming, aromatic eggs.

Maggi set a plate containing their buttered toast on the table, along with a jar of marmalade and settled into Nick’s lap.  “There’s no need for another plate,” she smirked and spooned a helping of eggs into Nick’s mouth.  While he chewed, Maggi placed his hand between her thighs, moaning when his fingers found their mark.  “Why don’t we make this meal into a champagne brunch?” she whispered in Nick’s ear.  “I saw a bottle in the fridge we can crack open.”  She wiggled against his hand and giggled, “I think you can guess what's for dessert.”

They hurried through their meal, anxious to finish what they had started at the breakfast table over Nigel’s tasty scrambled eggs.

A pretty waitress set a plate heaped with food in front of Nigel and asked if he needed anything else.  He asked for another cup of tea with plenty of milk and sugar, digging into the hot food as soon as she walked away.  After giving his breakfast to Nick, he went to his room to put on a T-shirt and left the flat hoping to find a place to eat and read his newspaper in peace.  It was unbelievable that his new mate had fallen under Maggi’s spell.  Even more unbelievable was his own misguided pity for her during their stay at Glaston Hall.  If Maggi had shown more concern after he told her that Deanna overheard them having sex, he wouldn’t have grown to hate her.  Instead of owning up to her part in the sordid affair, she had laid all the blame on him.  There was no doubt that Maggi had shown her true colors.  It sickened him to think that he actually had sex with the self-centered bitch.  The food suddenly lost its appeal so Nigel laid his fork down and took a long drink of the hot, milky tea, his stomach roiling and burning with distaste at his stupid, irresponsible mistake.

The damage was done and it was impossible to ignore the many hurdles he faced to win Deanna back.  He was confident that she had lied about her feelings for Thom; the truth was in the kiss they shared at the club.  There was no doubt in his mind that she still loved him.  But would that be enough to lure her away from the blonde knight who had ridden up on his white steed and spirited her away?  It was hard not to get discouraged when he thought of the weeks Thom had spent with Deanna, biding his time before making his move.  He must have gained her trust by treating her kindly.  He couldn't fault Thom for that, except that it was Deanna who hadn’t been able to resist the loving, patient bloke who eagerly lent an ear when she needed to talk and almost certainly catered to her every need.  He should have been that kind of man for Deanna, but he had been too bloody terrified of losing his heart to her.  Fear had made him cruel and selfish.  It would serve him right if she stayed with Thom but it would break his heart.  Despite his misgivings he wasn’t about to surrender now.  He loved Deanna: with every breath he took, with every beat of his heart, and with every fiber of his being.

Chapter 26

The day had been unusually hot, even for August.  The foursome lolled on the thick grass drinking tepid wine from a goatskin that Jayson’s father had brought back from Greece
a few summers back.  The music was good, the wine was potent, and the fun was free so no one complained.

Towards the end of the concert, after the sun had gone down and the stars shone brightly in the clear, English sky, Jayson dug in his knapsack and pulled out two podgy, overstuffed joints.  Each was bursting at the seams of its cheap rolling paper, and there were tiny greenish-brown twigs sticking out like insect legs.  He lit the first one and passed it to Deanna.  She inhaled deeply and let the acrid smoke fill her lungs before exhaling it into the night air.  She passed the smoldering joint to Thom and laid back on the grass to study the stars.  Thom slid his hand under her head and lifted it, covering her mouth with his while gently blowing smoke between her lips.  She wondered briefly what her parents would think if they could see her now and laughed, forcing the smoke out like a blast of steam.

“You’re wasting good shit,” Thom teased, grabbing her for another kiss without the pungent smoke.

Deanna clasped his head and pulled him closer, savoring the taste of wine and marijuana on his mouth.  The music was so loud they could feel the bass drum vibrating through the rough ground and into their bodies as Thom pressed her down against the velvety blades of grass.  He pulled back and gazed at her, his eyes twinkling like the stars in the inky black sky.  “I love you, Deanna.”

She stared into the neon blue depths of his eyes feeling as though she could see his beautiful and noble soul tucked neatly into a space right below his heart and silently prayed for his patience and understanding.  She wanted to love him the way that he deserved to be loved but needed a little more time to sort out her feelings.  Although it had been months since the break-up with Nigel and her tragic miscarriage, her emotions were still whirling and spinning with hurricane force.  Pulling Thom down beside her, she snuggled closely against him while they smoked the rest of the joint, drifting away on gentle waves of drug-induced serenity.

Hours later they lay tangled in the bed sheets, sated and muzzy from lovemaking, wine, and weed.  Deanna yawned and stretched like a cat while Mims mirrored her movements from her makeshift bed on Thom’s pillow.  “I’m going to make coffee, do you want some?”

Thom shook his head and rolled over, pulling the sheet up around his neck.  Mims licked his hair, and he batted her away, groaning a little with the effort.  Leaving the comfort of their warm bed, Deanna slipped on her robe and lifted Mims off of Thom’s pillow, cradling the cat’s fuzzy body against her chest.  While she waited in the kitchen for the coffee to brew, she heard a roaring sound outside of the flat.  She hurried to the front window and peeked through the shutters just as Nigel eased his gleaming motorbike against the curb.  He lowered the kickstand and pulled off his leather gloves before dismounting the bike.  He hesitated for a few seconds then sauntered up to the door to ring the bell.  Deanna jerked back from the window, pressing her hand over her heart which was pounding like a jack-hammer against her ribcage as though it was trying to shatter the bones.  Panic stricken and unable to move, she listened to the doorbell buzzing persistently until she wanted to cover her ears and scream for Nigel to get away from her door.