Paradise Fought (Abel) (20 page)

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Authors: L. B. Dunbar

BOOK: Paradise Fought (Abel)
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The drinks were flowing and my focus was off. I’d won my second fight in a row, but it wasn’t as sweet without Elma’s presence. She’d blown me off all week. While she wanted to continue to pretend on Friday night after the dance studio, she obviously was done pretending. I might have had one too many, although I liked to keep a clear head. Before I knew it, someone was under my arm. Her body wasn’t the body I craved, but she felt nice curled into me. At least someone wanted to be next to me.

My arm slipped from her shoulders, but she returned it to her hip. I looped a finger through her jeans to hold myself in place. The room was growing louder. I was getting warmer. The attention was increasing. People wanted to talk to me. People pressed in on me. I didn’t do well in crowds, and I was slowly beginning to sweat in a nervous panic. My hand brushed Keli’s ass as I passed it to shake one more hand. After that, I excused myself.

“Where are you going?” Keli asked in a high pitched giggle. Both hands covered my chest, and her eyes focused on the feel of me under her fingers, not on me as a person.

“I need some air. I’m just going to step outside for a second.”

Keli let her hands fall to my wrist and she gently tugged. Informing Creed I was going outside for a minute, I was met with a knowing stare and a wink from Victor. I let Keli drag me out of Lennie’s. I walked toward my truck with Keli holding my hand. I set the tailgate down and hopped up to sit for a moment, taking in deep breaths of the cool mountain night air. The sky was dark, but if I drove out of the city I’d see dozens of stars. I had wanted to show Elma, but she kept refusing to go on a date with me.

Keli pushed my knees apart and slipped in between them. Her hands rubbed gently up and down my thighs then grew in intensity. Eventually her nails dragged over the tough denim fabric. My dick jumped to attention.

“I like you, Abel,” she purred, coyly.

“I like you, too, Keli,” I said, noncommittal. It was different from the teasing with Elma.

“I’d like to show you how much I like you,” she continued.

“Oh yeah,” I teased, as her hand temptingly traveled closer to a semi-stiff treasure.

“Yeah,” she smiled slowly before leaning toward me. My hands lazily rested on either side of my knees, gripping the tailgate. I didn’t want Keli like I wanted Elma, but I had this sickening feeling that I needed to move on. I needed to taste another to rid my mouth of the flavor of Elma. Before I completed the thought, Keli’s lips were on mine. It was a warm kiss, eager and skilled, but practiced. I recognized this kind of kiss. It was one without feeling. Methodic; as if it had been done hundreds of times before with hundreds of men. I had only been one of many with my teacher. Keli was no different.

My hands moved to her face in hopes that I was wrong. Just once I wanted a woman to want me, for me, not for pay. I continued to attempt the kiss, but found it lacking in many ways. Most of all, it wasn’t Elma. It wasn’t fiery and aggressive like Elma kissed me. Elma drank me in with her mouth, and I loved to sip on her, as well. I pulled back from Keli, with thoughts of Elma, when a yellow VW bug drove through the small lot and exited Lennie’s parking area.

 

 

Triple shit
, I thought, as I raced past Keli into the bar.

“Creed, was Elma here?” I questioned, gripping my friend’s arm.

“I don’t think so. I didn’t see her,” he slurred, picking up his beer for another swill. We’d all had a bit too much. I peered over his head as if I could see any hint of whether Elma had been in the bar. In a corner table, I saw the girls. I recognized Lindee instantly. She was a beautiful girl. My friend was a fool for not pursuing her.

“Did you know Lindee was here?” I growled at him. Creed turned in the direction of my glare to see three girls laughing. He spun completely and led the way to their table.

“Lindee?” Creed called in surprise. “I didn’t know you were coming here tonight.”

“Girl’s Night Out,” she slurred, raising her wine glass. She giggled.

“Maggie, Lucie,” Creed addressed, “Was Elma here?”

“Oh, she was,” Maggie said, staring at me. “But she left.”

I didn’t know Maggie, but I knew she was Lindee’s cousin. It was odd that they were friends, as well as relatives, but maybe only I thought that was unusual because I wasn’t friends with my own brother.

“When? Where did she go?” I demanded.

“She left about ten minutes ago. Said she was going home,” Maggie explained.

“Are you really Abel Callahan?” the girl named Lucie addressed me. I was bored with this pick up line. I needed to find Elma. I was worried she had seen me and she misunderstood. I stopped myself. Did it matter if Elma misunderstood? She didn’t want anything from me. I was the delusional one, who wanted something from her.

“Yeah, who wants to know?” I snipped.

“Oh boy. Don’t tell me you’ve changed already?” Lindee giggled, pouting her full lips. My friend stared at her. I almost wanted to reach for his mouth and wipe the drool. He wanted that girl.

“I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Abel Callahan, and you are?”

“Louisa Cecilia Moretti, but people call me, Lucie.”

“Nice to meet you, Lucie,” I attempted to be polite, but I was antsy that time was wasting for me. I needed to find Elma.

“Piacere mio,” she replied with an eager smile. Something stopped me.

“Was that Spanish?”

“Italian,” she corrected. My heart pulsed an extra beat.

“Italian? Are you Italian?”

“Nope. I just studied abroad for a semester.”

My mind raced. Italy. A girl. My brother.

“You don’t happen to know a girl named Sofie Vincentia, do you?”

“Who wants to know?” Lucie teased. I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t even tell the girl, once I found her; if I found her. My brother was so secretive about his interest.

“Just kidding,” Lucie giggled. “Sure, I know Sofie Vincentia. She’s one of my best friends.”

 

 

While my brother would be proud I’d found the girl, I couldn’t celebrate. I raced for my truck. I had Elma’s address and that was my destination. At a stoplight, I sent a text to Cain. I didn’t expect him to answer. It was a Saturday night. He’d have his own fight and after fight celebrations. Girls awaited him, while I raced across town to make things right with one girl who didn’t want me.

Found the girl.

To my surprise, the ping returned almost instantaneously.

What girl?

I chuckled bitterly. I knew she couldn’t have been that important, that’s why I didn’t work too hard to find her. I had to wait until another stoplight to text again.

Sofie Vincentia.

My phone rang immediately.

“Hey.”

“You found her?” Cain growled through the phone without a hello.

“Yes, I…”

“Did you see her? Was she with someone?”

“She…wait, what? No. I didn’t see her. I have no idea if she’s with someone.”

“Find out,” Cain demanded. We were silent for a moment.

“Why? Why is this girl important?”

“She’s…just find out,” he growled, then hung up on me. He couldn’t have wanted her too badly, as he didn’t ask about her, just if she was with someone. My phone rang again and I laughed. It was like he read my mind.

“Cain,” I teased.

“You didn’t see her?”

“No. I met a girl who is her friend. Do you want me to see her?”

“Fuck no. Stay away from her.”

“That’s going to be hard if you want me to find out if she’s with someone.”

“Fuck you,” Cain growled. “You’re right.”

I paused for a moment, savoring those words. Cain had never, in his entire life, said that to me. Even in jest, he never credited me with anything. I was always wrong, always incompetent.

“I’ll see if I can get close to her,” I added.

“Abel,” Cain paused, “Just don’t get too close to her, okay?”

For the first time ever, my brother sounded desperate.

 

 

When I pulled up in front of Elma’s apartment complex, I double checked the information. This rundown three story building couldn’t be where the popular Elma Montgomery lived. Fashionable, trendy, and sister to a world class fighter, Elma’s home was in a questionable neighborhood, in a building of decrepit brick. The front security door wasn’t locked, and I easily walked into the unsecure building. I took the cement stairs, two at a time, not risking to touch the unstable looking railing. I was about to knock on the second floor apartment door when I heard a deep voice.

“Fuck me, darling,” someone groaned on the other side of the door. I stopped. My hand frozen in a fist, paused before hammering on the heavy door.

“Harder,” a female shrill sounded. My body shook. I stepped back from the door as if it could punch me. Then I stepped forward for further torture. Placing my hands on either side of the jamb, I turned my ear to the door to be certain.

“Sweet Jesus, girl,” the male voice moaned, “Just like that.”

I’d heard enough. I stepped back. My temptation to kick in the door was great, but my shattered heart didn’t have the energy to fight. I turned like the defeated man I was and exited the dilapidated building. My eyes caught Elma’s car in a corner spot and my stomach rolled. The alcohol of the night caught up to me, and I heaved in the small space of grass before the lot.

The noise of my mother being hammered by the man-slob in our living room was more than I could handle. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, willing the sounds in my head to disappear. I’d placed my earbuds in my ears and turned my iPad on loud, which only prolonged my quest for sleep. Images of what was happening to my mother haunted me as they merged with Abel and Keli. I saw them kissing on Abel’s tailgate. I shouldn’t have been upset. I had been the one to deny Abel, but we had shared a moment on that tailgate; an easy moment of conversation and ice cream. It was special to me, and I didn’t want it soiled by the thought of Abel taking Keli against that same tailgate.

Time passed and I sensed the operatic sounds of my mother and her
whatever
were finally complete. I risked getting up to use the bathroom and possibly try to find something to drink. I’d already slammed down two vodka cranberries at Lennie’s, but the buzz of earlier was long gone. Since I was home, I could drink as much as I wished, and God knew, my house was almost like a liquor store. I opened my bedroom door hesitantly, peering into the small living room. I kept my eyes pinched in hopes to avoid anything that would further scar me. I opened one eye and then the other in question of being safe.

I padded across the dank floor for the small kitchen. Not finding a clean glass, I took the bottle off the Formica table and intended to return to my room. I was headed for the bathroom first when my mother’s bedroom door opened. A large man with a slight gut and a bald head stared at me. His liquidy eyes were red-rimmed and I froze, letting the bottle dangle at my side. I tugged at my short t-shirt, attempting to pull it down over the center of me where the man’s eyes were trained. Locked on his target, he licked his lips. I swallowed hard. I didn’t dare to move. He was in the way of my bedroom door. I didn’t think I could make it around him.

I stepped back presuming this would signal his departure through the front door behind me, but he stepped up to me.

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