The Brute (3 page)

The walk back to my apartment seemed longer than usual. I had given James my keys so he could let himself in after he’d finished sight-seeing, so I was in no hurry. To be honest I didn’t want to see him now. Not after what I’d just been through. I didn’t want to see anyone.

I sat down on a park bench about a block from my apartment. Just watching the people walk by. I was in way over my head with The Brute.

It was clear now, that simply finding a job and breaking things off wouldn’t be enough. He could still hurt me, and hurt my family. My family didn’t deserve to see me like that.

I had no idea how I was going to get myself out of this situation now. I didn’t want my parents humiliated, not after they’d done everything to get me through college and get me a job in the city. I loved them too much for that.

I looked down at my watch. It was still only three o’clock. I wondered if James was back at my apartment yet, so he could let me in. If he wasn’t I could wait. I got up and walked back slowly. I was still shaking.

He wasn’t there yet. Never mind. I stood outside my building, at the same spot that he’d waited for me last night.

I wondered again about what he was doing in Charlotte. Business, he’d said. I didn’t even know what he did. I hadn’t asked him. He must think I’m such a bad friend, not asking him about his life. Here I was feeling sorry for myself, and obsessing over my own problems, and not once had I asked him about the business he was doing here. I’d have to remedy that.

I smiled when I saw him walking up my street. Just seeing him helped me forget my own problems. He had such a casual way of walking, like he was in no hurry at all to get anywhere. Walked like he was in the country. Ambled, I guess you’d call it.

He put his hand up to wave when he saw me, and I waved back. It was like we hadn’t seen each other again for ages, even though it had only been about an hour. If anyone was watching us (not that anyone cared what you did in the city), they would have thought we were nuts.

He was still grinning when he finally got to me. “Haven’t been standing here for three hours have you?” Well, duh, I only left him an hour ago. “Then I win,” he said.

I punched him playfully on the arm.

He lifted the shopping bags that he had with him up in the air. “I’m going to cook dinner for you. Say thanks, for you letting me stay here.”

No one had ever cooked for me before. I was so used to grabbing a bite from the local deli for dinner because I hated cooking for one person. I missed what a home cooked meal was like. I crossed my fingers hoping it would be something wonderful.

I wasn’t disappointed. Rosemary and pepper mingled together as steam mushroomed above the stovetop - a whole symphony of scents and sounds as he shook a pan here, added some butter there. He moved really well in the kitchen, like he’d been cooking all his life. I didn’t know that about him. Even in my teeny-tiny kitchen he looked like a Masterchef, right at home.

I hadn’t noticed before, (well, okay I had, but I didn’t want to admit it, not with everything else going on), but the way he was looking at me was different than he used to back in Claremont. It was almost as if he was seeing me as a completely different person.

I liked that he was looking at me that way. I don’t know why - it’s not like I could do anything about it. And I wouldn’t of course, my life was already way too fucked up. But just being looked at and really seen. Well it was nice, and gave me a tiny warm feeling in my stomach. Or that could have just been my stomach anticipating the feast it was about to have. My body didn’t always respond in the ways that I wanted it to, lately.

“Dinner is served,” he said dramatically as he waved his hand in the air and bowed low like he was some grand servant.

I couldn’t help myself - I giggled again. I was turning into a silly schoolgirl. Oh well, no loss, he’d be gone the day after tomorrow. What would be the harm in having a bit of happiness in the meantime and actually enjoying these wonderful meals he was making for me.

After the meal, (which was seriously the most delicious thing
I’ve ever tasted), he grabbed a dvd from my collection and put it on.

I’d seen the movie a few times already (what else was I going to do with my nights alone?), but he hadn’t seen it. It was funny to see him jump at the scary parts and smile at the sensitive moments. He was really engrossed in it. It gave me a chance to sit back and watch him again. I didn’t let him see me do it though, I was always careful to turn my attention back to the television when he looked my way, but out of the corner of my eye it was like I couldn’t look away.

Only a day and a half. And he’d be gone.

I woke up late again the next day. I almost skipped into the living room, I felt so light. But James wasn’t there. There was a note on the
desk, I walked over to read it. He’d already left for his business meeting and would be back late this afternoon.

What sort of meeting takes place for practically the whole day? Why did I care?

I had to take my mind of things. I had to take my mind of James. Hell, it was like I was a little kid again with a new toy. This had to stop.

I logged onto all the job sites I knew online. Nothing was available that I was qualified for. I found my resume file, updated it and printed it out. I might need it soon. I promised myself that I’d ask that little florist shop on the corner if they wanted staff. Sometimes they had a sign up for busy periods like Valentine’s and Mother’s day. A few days would be better than nothing.

The rest of the day, I sat around moping. Nothing interesting was on television, and I didn’t feel like going out and walking around. Even the corner cafe where I get those sweet coconut macaroons wasn’t tempting me. Maybe I was coming down with something.

At least The Brute hadn’t called.
Yet.

I got changed into my yoga gear and did some stretches. After the amount of food I’d been eating lately, I needed to stay and shape, and besides, yoga helps me think.

When James came back he was in a great mood. He said his business meeting had gone well. Better than he expected.

“That’s great,” I said. “Care to elaborate now? Or is it still a super secret?” I didn’t want to be pushy, but I was curious. He’d been so cagey up until now.

“Now it’s all gone through, I guess I can let you know. I’ve bought a cafe.”

A cafe! Of course, no wonder he could cook so well. He was a chef now.
Made perfect sense. And that meant he was going to be in Charlotte. I could see him every day.

I don’t really know how we got from his announcement that he was going to take over management of a little cafe to us jumping around the living room holding hands like excited teenagers at a rock concert, but there we were.

I was giddy again. Full of excitement for him. Hell, I was excited for me, and I didn’t even know why.

Then he stopped and got a really serious look on his face. I stopped jumping too and we looked at each other. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I know people say that, when someone they like looks at them, that moment before you just know they want to kiss you, and you want to kiss them back, and the world stops. Like this moment is something that needs to happen in slow motion or something. Like everything else that is happening in your life is suddenly meaningless and you are locked on pause, just standing there looking at each other.
Without breathing.

Still in slow motion, he leaned down to me. His face and lips getting closer and closer. I could feel his breath warm my cheek (which was good - at least one of us was breathing) and then his lips brushed mine. They were soft and his kiss was gentle. Almost
like he was holding back. But I didn’t want to hold back. Every inch of me was bursting with desire to have him crush his lips on mine and kiss me so hard that I’d forget everything.

And then my phone beeped.

He was wearing his skippers cap. Must have thought he looked like a real captain or something. I just thought he looked like a douche now.

Remember how I used to think he was good looking. Well, technically, he still was, but I didn’t feel like that anymore. You know after you know someone for a while, and suddenly they look better or worse, like your opinion of them has suddenly altered their attractiveness. Yep. Classic me.

I sat at the back not saying anything as he drove out to sea. Or is that sailed? I’m never sure of the correct terminology on a boat, like which one is port or starboard, or what a spinnaker is (or even if I know how to spell it correctly). All I knew was he liked to be far enough out that no one could see what we were doing (he preferred screwing me out on deck), but still close enough that he could see the city lights in the distance twinkling off the water as it gently swayed us.

“Got a surprise for you tonight. You are going to love it.”

“
Uhuh,” I said, completely disinterested.

“Don’t be like that Angel. Come on. I know I’ve been a prick lately, but it’s only because I love you.”

He says he loves me every time he wants me to do something I hate.

“
Here.” He throws over a small box. My stomach goes cold. In fact my whole body does, even though it’s a warm night. The box is the size of a ring box. I don’t want to open it. “Go on,” he says. “See what I’ve bought you. You’re gonna want to thank me after this. And I’m gonna let you. You can thank me all night because you’re not going to get much sleep.”

I can already feel my fingers shaking. I do NOT want to open the box.

He comes around me, and makes me sit on his lap. I squirm a bit as he positions me right where I can feel him underneath my clothes.

He grabs my fingers and starts making me untie the ribbon. It’s clumsy but eventually the ribbon is off and it’s just the box, ready to open and see a ring. Oh god.

It opens and relief washes over me, so much that I nearly do want to kiss him. It wasn’t a ring. It was a necklace. A rather pretty necklace actually, with a silver chain and a diamond in the shape of a square hanging delicately at the end of it. Not that it’s beauty makes me want to wear it though.

“Put it on,” he said. He brings it up to my neck and clasps it at the back. It sits perfectly, low enough that I can bend my head down to see it, but not so low that it dangles in between my breasts. I’m impressed with his taste. He hasn’t bought me anything stylish like this for a long time.
And certainly nothing quite so extravagant.

“You deserve it. You’re everything to me.”

“We have to talk,” I said. “I can’t do this anymore. I think we should end things. Find other people that can make each other happy.”

And with that, he starts crying. I kid you not. This grown man, who has been a prick to
me, that I’m trying to figure out how to dump, is now crying like a little baby, and clinging to me. It was kind of sad, actually.

I didn’t know what to do, so I just
patted him on the back, and shushed him and told him that everything was going to be okay. I mean what else was I going to do? Push him off the side and let the asshole drown? (Okay, I may have thought about that for a split second, but if any cops read this, I wasn’t serious.)

“Don’t you love me?” he asked.

You and I both know the answer to that.

“Give me one last night. One night so I can remember you by,” he said.

“And after this, you’ll get rid of the photos? Everything?” I asked.

He swore he would. I gritted my teeth. I could do just one more night. I guess he deserved that.
Maybe.

He was right about one
thing, I never got any sleep on the boat that night. On the few occasions where I have stayed the night on the boat, (back when I actually liked him and thought he was a decent guy), the way the water swayed underneath us has always lulled me straight to sleep. I had a pretty good sleep those nights too.

But I was planning on staying awake so I could find his camera. Get rid of the evidence in case he went back on his word. I know that was naive of me. He could have uploaded the photos somewhere already (and probably had) but I needed to do something, didn’t I? I couldn’t just take his word for it.

If you want the details, we had sex seven times that night. The first time he made me suck him off so he could come in my mouth (I always hated that). He said he wanted me to crave the taste of him or some such bullshit. And then he fucked me in as many positions as he could think of. Me on top, him behind, one leg bent high, crouched in a ball. I don’t know, I kind of lost interest in keeping a tally after that. I was just counting down the hours until he’d either fall asleep or return to shore.

He came every time, so I’ll give him some credit - he’s still pretty virile (although sometimes I expect that a little blue pill does help him in that department).

All I could think about was, this was it. The last time I’d have to go through this. After tonight it would be over. No family embarrassment. He’d get rid of the photos, and I could get on with my life. And hurry and find a job.

One last night, and it would all be over.
Finally.