The Revolution (13 page)

A PIERCING NOISE
interrupts the bad dreams I’m having. It’s louder and louder until it can’t be ignored anymore. I peel apart the swollen lids of one eye with my fingers. Turning toward the noise, it’s my landline. I forgot I even had that phone. I mentally add to my forever-growing checklist to cancel that service. In the meantime, I must change that annoying tone when I’m more awake.

My other eye finally opens though the sun coming in through the window is blinding and painful, making my eyes water. I grab my phone quickly and head under the covers where it’s dark, just like my mood.

I answer, “What?”

A frantic voice says, “I need your help.”

“Rochelle, why are you calling me so early and help with what?”

“The party. I need more liquor. And it’s not that early. I can’t believe you’re sleeping in. You never do that.”

I reach over and turn on my cell phone, hoping I don’t regret that decision. “What time is it?”

“What’s going on, Lara? First you don’t answer your cell and now you don’t sound like yourself.”

“I’ve fallen behind on some projects so I worked ’til three in the morning. I’m just tired. And I turned my phone off to avoid any calls from Mark.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I feel bad for waking you.”

“No. Don’t worry about it.”

“What’s the deal with Mark?”

“I’m just stuck in this mess with him and I don’t know how to get out. I went over last night to get my stuff but I was locked out of the gate. I called, but no one answered, so I came home and worked to take my mind off it.”

“How about I bring you a coffee and something to eat and we can chat for a few. I have to run out for more food. I didn’t buy enough.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“Of course. I’ll be over in twenty. I’ll let myself in. Go back to sleep and I’ll see you soon.”

After we hang up, I roll over, twisting myself into the covers and try for some more shuteye.

Footsteps coming down the wood-floored hallway wake me. I open my eyes and push the covers away from my face. “I need you,” I whine, holding my arms open for Rochelle.

The weight of a truck lands on top of me. “I need you too. I’m sorry.”

I scream, scuttling out from under Mark. “What the hell? Get off me!”

“What’s wrong?” Genuine shock is written on his face.

Jumping out of bed, I hurry to my bathroom and stand in the doorway for protection, similar to what I do when we have earthquakes.
He’s
a force to be reckoned with and has caused me more damage than the threat of a natural disaster.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” My voice sounds pitchy, but I don’t care.

With his hands up as if he’s the voice of reason now, he sits up and eyes me. “Calm down, Lara. I love you. Can’t you see that?” When he stands, I back inside the bathroom. “Are you scared of me?” His eyes narrow as if he’s approaching a wild and wounded animal. He is. “I don’t deserve that. After all these months, you know I would never hurt you.”

“You did hurt me. Look at my wrists.” I hold up my arms for him to see the bruising, though it’s fading fast.

“I didn’t do that.”

My gaze lands on him with a harsh scowl. “You did do this to me, again. You keep hurting me and you’ve been hurting me all along by your cheating.”

“I didn—”

“Don’t lie to me! I’ve seen so many pictures. They’re all over the Internet. Even one from two nights ago. I trusted you, but I don’t anymore. I was a fool for thinking you cared for me.”

His tall frame is overbearing even in the best of situations, but he’s flat-out intimidating and scary when we’re fighting. I swallow hard, trying to stand my ground when all I want to do is lock myself in this bathroom until he leaves. He nods his head and lowers his voice as if he can convince me to change my mind. “We’re not over. We’re far from over, Lara. You’re mine. You were always meant to be mine.” I see his hands fist at his sides and the breath is knocked out of me, fear replacing it. “We’re so good together.”

I hate that my voice shakes, making me sound weak when I should feel strong. “We’re over, Mark. I’ve been very clear and from the photos online from last night and every other night, you’ve moved on.”

“You’re not innocent, but I’m not throwing it in your face.”

“You just did, but what did I do?” I challenge him. I know deep down that even if I had wanted to do something, I would have never cheated on him.

I see the change as something occurs to him. His eyes widen as some great revelation sets in. “It’s two in the afternoon. Why were you in bed? You… you weren’t expecting me, but you
were
expecting someone. Who is it, Lara? Who were you waiting in bed for?” His fists loosen and he reaches out and grabs me.

Just as I’m about to scream and fight my way to escape, we both hear a large gasp followed by, “What’s going on?”

Behind Mark stands Rochelle.
Oh thank God.
“Rochelle—”

He yells, his voice both menacing and booming. “Leave us alone.”

Her eyes meet mine as she scans me, making sure I’m okay. “No,” she says to him with no fear in her voice. “You need to leave now, Mark, or I’ll call the cops.” Dialing 9-1-1, she holds her phone up in the air. “All I have to do is push one more button.”

“And tell them what? Lara’s boyfriend used the key she gave him to come in and climb into bed with his
girlfriend
? Call them. They’ll find no case, so run along and play house with that loser. We all know he needs the supervision.”

“Shut up, Mark,” I say, gathering strength from my friend. I push past him into the bedroom. “I’m only going to tell you one more time. Leave.” He stares at Rochelle, then turns to me and returns the same glare as I’m giving him. I have no patience for his bullshit anymore. “Get out of my place. Now!”

“You don’t mean that,” he says, but by the confusion written on his face, perhaps reality is hitting him square in the head.

“I do. I want you gone for good.”

“Whatever,” he says, walking toward the door. When he passes Rochelle, he hits the wall above the door. “Fuck this.”

Rochelle looks worried, but she stands strong until he’s gone. Eyeing me, she says, “You’re shaking. Stay here and I’ll make sure he leaves.”

I nod, wrapping my arms around my body, then take my robe from the hook in the bathroom, I slip it on and sit on the edge of the bed, and wait. When she comes back, she sits next to me. “He’s gone.” My breath stutters as I inhale. I drop my head into my hands and cry. A comforting arm embraces me. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Leaning my head on her shoulder, I continue to cry, the last few days finally overwhelming me. “What if you wouldn’t have shown up when you did?” My voice trembles even more now I know it’s safe to show my emotion.
What would he have done?

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped you.”

“It’s not him. He’s not been like thi—”

“Lara, wake up. You’re making excuses for him. Why?”

I drop my head again. “I’m ashamed.”

“You did nothing wrong. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. Has he hurt you before?”
I can’t tell her the truth.

“No,” I continue to lie, not even understanding why anymore. “I’ve seen a change in him. I’ve seen moments of his temper, but ignored my gut feeling that something was really wrong.”

“I’m sorry this happened. I had no idea.”

“It was only two times. I’m not trying to justify it, but it’s since we broke up. He’s always had mood swings. He says it’s natural for pro-athletes. But the last few months they’ve gotten worse.”

“Maybe he’s taking drugs.”

I shake my head. “He wouldn’t. They test regularly and he works closely with a kids’ foundation against drugs.”

She hugs me tight. “I’m glad you’re safe and I’m even more glad you’re not with him. You need to steer clear.”

“Yeah, good riddance.” I flop back on the bed. “But I still need to get my stuff.”
And get my locks changed.

“Send someone to collect it. You don’t go, okay?” She lies back next to me.

Wanting to change the subject, I nod. “You said something about liquor for the party?”

“Don’t worry about it. You have enough to deal with.”

“I’m happy to help. Anyway, I’ll need the distraction. Tell me what you need and I’ll bring it tonight.”

We lie there—me trying to forget what happened—Rochelle showing her concern by taking my hand and holding it. “I’m here for you.”

I give her hand a little squeeze. “I know you are. Thank you.”

After many reassurances I’m fine, Rochelle leaves. She’s planned a party because she’s happy the guys are home, even if only for a short time. There’s still a lot to do she says as she walks out the door with only a few hours left until show time.

I promise her I’m up to the task, then shut the door, making sure all the locks and the alarm are set. I make a cup of tea and heat up a bowl of soup from a can. Settling down on the couch, I set my food and drink on the coffee table and reach for my favorite swatch binder. It’s my go-to binder for male clients. The colors, textures, and patterns tend to draw their eye. I flip through it this time with Kaz in mind, finding comfort in my work—my happy place.

Kaz exudes warmth, making everyone feel at home around him. It’s not something he tries to do. It just comes naturally to him. He’s open. His heart is welcoming. Maybe he’s too trusting. I guess we share that trait.

A few swatches are pulled, then leather samples are set aside that coordinate. Picking up my phone, I text Kaz:
What time can you meet at the house on Monday? I want to lay some paper down to look at paint colors and arrangements.

His response is quick:
What time do you need me to be there?

I smile, then type:
How’s ten?

Kaz:
How about noon?

He has a knack for mealtime. I type:
Noon works too.

Kaz:
It’s a date, but I’ll still see you tonight?

I’m quick to reply:
I’ll see you tonight.

I hold the phone to my chest, a huge smile on my face with hope in my heart. Then I realize how ridiculous I’m being and get back to work. I spend the next hour saving images on my iPad of furniture pieces I think will look amazing in his house before I start getting ready for the night.

My shower doesn’t take long, but picking out the perfect outfit does, especially since I have a date with a hot rock star. I want him to find me as irresistible as I find him. I want to bring him home. I want to make love all night and sleep all day with him again. He seems to make me want so much.
Is it too early in our relationship to want the world?

Do we have a relationship? Or am I just swept up in the moment?

I finally settle on black fitted jeans and a black blouse that has a gold pinstripe. It flows over the curves of my shoulders and breasts, but is tailored at the waist and gets tucked in. I leave the top two buttons open and add three dainty gold necklaces, a few bracelets though the sleeves are long, and gold stud earrings. With my gold strappy shoes, the outfit is chic, but sexy. Just the way I like to look and feel. And after the week I’ve had, I deserve to feel good and have an even better night.

THE ORDER WAS
ready at the liquor store and the employees loaded the boxes into my car for me. The gate to Dex’s drive is open already when I pull in and park next to him. He gets out of his car and comes around to my door just as I cut the engine. “Hey,” he says to me. “What’d she send you to do?”

“Liquor pick up.”

“Nice.”

“You?”

“Haircut.” He chuckles. “She likes it shaggy but not long.”

He does look good with shorter hair. “Looking good there.”

“Thanks. Go on inside. I’ll carry the bottles in.” He joins me at the back of the vehicle. When I open it, he smiles. “She ordered a lot.”

“I think she knows her audience.”

“Guess she does.”