Sacrifice (3 page)

The phone rang making me jump and I jammed the mascara wand straight into the corner of my eye. It stung, my eye watering leaving a long trail of black tears down my cheek. I looked like one of those gothic style pictures, or was that emo? I couldn’t really remember. Things were constantly changing, always being renamed into something so much more ‘now’.

Whimpering I dabbed at my face with a wet face cloth and made my way from the bathroom back into my bedroom. The phone sat beside my bed, continuing to shrill its little heart out as I plonked down beside it and flicked it open to answer.

I hadn’t bothered to check the number, assuming it was probably Rachel telling me she was running late. But the sound of breathing on the other end of the line told me instantly it wasn’t Rachel.

“Hello?” My voice came out low and guarded but at least it didn’t give away the small bit of panic I felt. “Who is this?”

The breathing continued, slow and steady. I wanted to believe that it was familiar, that somewhere in my life I had heard it before. I shook my head and started to pull the phone away from my ear when I heard it.

“Be careful.”

Two simple words that had the ability to bring my world crashing down around my ears. It couldn’t possibly be him. I had spent the last three years convincing myself about how little he cared. And now after all this time he rang me to what? To warn me? But about what, it just didn’t make any sense.

“Dad!” I jammed the phone back up against my ear, desperate to hear him. To hear anything he had to say to me. I wanted so badly for him to tell me he was there, that he loved me and that everything would be alright… But the line was dead. Silence mocked me as I sat frozen, stunned. 

I dropped the phone onto my lap and stared at the blank screen. No number. I couldn’t even ring him back. I couldn’t ask him what the hell he thought he was doing after all this time? After everything? Maybe he had suddenly grown a conscience? Maybe he realised that blaming me for my mother’s death was the wrong thing to do… But none of that seemed to fit him, none of it fit who he had become. It was weird.

I sat on the side of the bed, my mind in turmoil as I tried to wrap my head around the phone call. Why now? 

There were far too many unanswered questions in all of this. Perhaps he had done it out of spite? Knowing it would throw me for a loop and force me to question everything I had come to expect of him. But I didn’t think he was that petty.

The phone buzzed again and this time I stared down at the phone number flashing up in front of me. Rachel.

“Hi.” I pressed the phone to my ear and spoke. 

“What’s wrong, you sound weird?” I could hear the unmistakable note of excitement in her voice. It was infectious, washing over me like a balm. There was plenty of time to panic and fret over a phone call from a man who hadn’t bothered with me in three years. Tonight with ‘Backward Sliding Domino’ was not the time.

“Nothing,” I lied, “I jabbed myself in the eye with my mascara wand.”

“Ouch.” I could hear a visible intake of breath from her end. She knew what it was like to suffer from make-up mishaps. “Are you ready?”

“No? I thought we were meeting at eight?” I glanced over at the alarm beside my bed and noticed the time.

“We are? Don’t tell me you’re going to be late. I don’t want to miss these guys.”

“I promise I won’t be late… Well maybe five minutes.” Before she could complain any further I hung up. Grabbing my jeans I began to frantically pull them on. My hair was still wet, but there was nothing I could do about that now. I pulled the small camisole top on over my head and fixed it down around my midriff. The small scar on my belly button caught my eye and I winced. I wouldn’t ever get rid of that reaction. It was a painful reminder of a mistake and part of me couldn’t help but think it was a good thing. Maybe it would stop me from going headlong into another situation like it…

At least the top was long enough to cover the small scar, for that I could be grateful for small mercies. I tugged the hairbrush through my blonde hair in an attempt to shift some of the knots from it. Grabbing the mousse from my locker I scrunched it into my hair. At least the club would be relatively dark and it was bound to be too hot. No matter what style I put my hair in now, by the time the evening was through it would be destroyed anyway.

The phone started to buzz again but this time I ignored it. If it was Rachel then she could wait a few minutes. And well if it was anyone else then they would just have to leave a message… I stuffed the ringing cell phone into my purse and flung it over my shoulder before grabbing my keys and heading straight for the door. I contemplated leaving a note for my room mate but quickly changed my mind. She wasn’t exactly trust worthy… And the last thing I wanted was her turning up at the club and ruining my night… Maybe it was selfish but I wanted this night for me… And I planned on doing everything in my power to make it happen that way.

The crowd outside the gig swarmed around me as I stood waiting for Rachel.
Typical.
I muttered more to myself than anyone nearby. She was the one ringing me, begging that I not be late, when in fact she was the one who was late.

I pushed myself up onto my toes in an attempt to see over the heads of the people surrounding me. I wasn’t exactly short but I certainly wasn’t tall enough to easily see past the crowd. The crowd jostled me forward and the extra push from someone behind me sent me sprawling towards the pavement.

It was like one of those moments in movies that they put into slow motion. No one tried to stop my fall and I was useless to help myself. My arms windmilled pointlessly as I attempted to grab onto something, anything. The last thing I wanted was to head into the gig cut up and bloodied.

A strong set of arms wrapped around me, yanking me backwards and out of my headlong fall. They lingered for a second more than was necessary and I felt a blush creep up my cheeks as I turned and looked up at him.

“You?” It came out more as an accusation than a question. I stared into his eyes, finally able to see them up close and personal. One blue and one green… It seemed odd and on anyone else I might have said it made them less appealing. But the different colours coupled with his sheepish lopsided grin it only seemed to add to his attractiveness. 

His hair was still mussed and my fingers itched to reach out and run through it. He had a slight dusting of stubble across his jaw and just behind his ear I could make out a slightly paler area of skin. A scar. Not a very big one and it wasn’t particularly obvious but I had seen it. But then I was studying him like I had an exam coming up and all the questions were based on this stranger.

“Yes, me?” When he spoke a shiver raced through me and I had this overwhelming urge to shut my eyes. I wanted to feel his voice vibrate through me. Feel it reach places within me that I thought I had shut off. Places inside myself that I had thought I’d buried and that frightened me. People didn’t normally get to me like this. I wasn’t normally sucked in by a handsome face and open smile.

What is wrong with me?

The question caught me off guard and I tugged out of his hold. My eyes never leaving his face. I still wanted to touch him. Wanted to feel his hand on my skin. What would it feel like? Would his touch burn me? Staring into his eyes I could only imagine that he would leave scorch marks on me. Maybe not physically…

Drama queen…

The little voice in my head piped up with its own interpretation of the situation making me laugh. The sound simply erupted from me as though I didn’t have full control of my own emotions. I was acting like a crazy person.

“I’m sorry…” I stuttered the words coming out in a long rush. “It’s just I saw you earlier in the coffee shop and you stole my brownie.”

Why did I have to say that? He tilted his head to one side and watched me. His eyes taking in my expression. His gaze pushed deeper, as though he was slowly stripping back the layers surrounding me. Like I was simply an emotional onion that he was peeling. Pushing back each layer until my soft vulnerable core was revealed.

“Your brownie?” His voice held the promise of laughter and for a split second it irritated me.

Here I was standing in front of a perfect stranger. One who had probably pushed me in the first place only so he could act the hero. And I was behaving like I belonged in the looney bin.

“Never mind it doesn’t matter, it was stupid…”

He lifted his hands in mock surrender at the defensive tone in my voice. “It’s not stupid if it was important to you…”

I stared at him for a second his words penetrating the fog of memories that I kept buried deep inside me. It wasn’t the first time I had heard someone say that. It was a common enough phrase but there was only one other person I had heard use it with any kind of regularity. My father. It was something he would say all the time… 

“Are you alright?” The guy with the one blue, one green eye stared at me concern evident in his voice and gaze.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m fine, it’s just you reminded me of someone.”

“Someone good I hope.” The teasing lilt was back in his voice and it made me smile. He held his hand out to me and I took it slowly, worried that at any second his touch might burn through me. Was it something that only happened in books and movies? 

His touch didn’t do anything to me and for a second I was disappointed. It was ridiculous but I was a romantic at heart. I wanted there to be a spark. Something in the way he touched me that let me know he was the one for me. My mother had spoke of having that with my dad. A wave of grief rolled over me, strong enough to make my lip tremble and sound rush in my ears as I fought back the tears. I missed her. So bad it hurt.

“Sort of…” I let the words out on a rush of breath as he shook my hand. He didn’t seem to notice my sudden almost emotional break down so at least I could be grateful for small mercies.

“I’m Sam, Sam Harker.” His grip was warm and strong. I knew he could easily crush my fingers in his and for some odd reason that was comforting.

“Natasha Masterton, but my friends call me Nat.”

His smile grew wider and something twinkled in his eyes, something I couldn’t pin point. All I knew was that it intrigued me. I wanted to know more about Sam Harker. I wanted to know who he was, and where he could from all of a sudden.

“Nat!” The sound of Rachel’s voice was she called my name from somewhere ahead of me drew my attention. I scanned the crowd only to catch sight of her at the door to the club waving frantically at me, the tickets gripped tightly in her small fist.

“I should go…” I don’t particularly want to leave him, there is something about him that has drawn me in.

“No worries, I might see you inside.” He smiles at me again and my breath catches in my throat making me splutter. It feels like I swallowed something large to block off my air supply and the tears I was trying so desperately to hold back roll down my face. I can imagine how I look… A complete mess.

He tries to grip my arm as I struggle to catch my breath but I push away from him and make a break for the door and Rachel. When I reach her I turn and throw one last look over my shoulder but Sam is gone. I can’t stop the feeling of disappointment that wells up inside me. It floods up through me and I stuff it back down inside.

“Was that the guy from the coffee shop?” Rachel whispers as the guards on the door search through my bag.

“Yeah.”

“You finally met him, how?” She asks as she leans against the door frame, her gaze watching me with interest.

“He was just there and I almost tripped and he caught me…”

“Oh My God! That is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard! Why didn’t you bring him with you? We could have smuggled him in somehow.”

I smiled and shook my head at her as the guard handed my bag back to me. “When did you get here?”

She grinned sheepishly. “Well I was here when I rang you the first time…”

“Rachel! It must be serious if you’re on time… So what have you been doing all this time?” 

A blush creeps up her cheeks and its then I catch the faint trace of smudged lipstick on her chin.

“I was just meeting the band… Just you wait until I introduce you, you’ll love them.”

“Anyone I’ve heard of?” I asked half joking.

She jabbed me in the ribs before continuing. “Uncharted Switch. But you probably won’t know them considering you listen to nothing but Backward Sliding Domino.” She started to laugh then and I couldn’t help but join her. But my mind was elsewhere as I followed her through the club to a spot near the stage. 

The music was almost loud enough to drown out my own thoughts. But I didn’t need to hear my own thoughts to know what they were. I couldn’t shake the image of him from my mind. And every time I glanced around I was sure I saw him, but when I looked closer there was nothing.

I smiled at Rachel as she bobbed away to the music and kept her gaze trained on the guitarist. He was cute in a very obvious way. But what seemed to be worse was that he knew it. He barely glanced at Rachel the entire time they played on stage and when they finished their set he left without a backwards glance at her.

Making my way to the bar I watched the confusion and hurt chase each other across her face. I wanted to reassure her, that it was probably just a stage persona but I didn’t think I could lie to her.

Grabbing my coke I headed back to our spot as Backward Sliding Domino came out on stage. I could feel the excitement bubbling up inside me as they started into their set. The music washing over me as it pushed aside all the confusion I felt about the day’s events from my mind. There was something about their music that left me feeling refreshed.

Rachel seemed to have forgotten her hurt and danced with me to some of our favourite songs, the evening seemingly drifting past us without us noticing. When John the lead singer threw his t-shirt down in mine and Rachel’s direction I grabbed it. I wasn’t even sure why. It seemed silly and immature but I didn’t care anymore. They were my favourite band and I wanted something to remember them by.