Unobtainable (31 page)

~Dyson~

I almost laughed when Harley’s door slammed in my face, his overreaction to my meeting with friends seemed oddly out of character for him. If I didn’t known better, I would have thought Harley was jealous. Now that was one fucked up conclusion to draw. There was no way that a man who wanted nothing more than sex was going to be resentful of me having friends.

I sat on the edge of my bed, scrubbing my scalp violently with my fingers trying to take the pain away. I scouted through my bedside table until I found a bottle of pain reliever and popped a few with a glass of water.

I pillowed my arm under my head and flicked on the TV to distract my thoughts. Frankenstein’s monster with his arms held out was thumping through the local village while the villagers chased him with pitchforks, screaming and yelling, my thoughts automatically turned to Harley and his nightmares.

What in the hell had him calling my name and why had he seen
me
in his dreams? It was disturbing to think that perhaps I was adding to his nightmares, making him so unhappy that I haunted his soul in some way. I hated to think that I was triggering Harley’s nightmares too.

Immediately at that thought my stomach started to churn, a layer of sweat formed on my brow and my stomach lurched. I ran to the washroom and emptied what little there was in my belly into the toilet, then lay on my side on the cold hard tile floor once I was finished, closing my eyes with no desire to move.

~Harley~

My nerves were shot. After last night’s nightmare and Dyson’s close-lipped bullshit, this day could not end soon enough. I packed a duffle bag and tossed it and the backpack into the back seat of my car before going for a two hour run shortly after five this morning.

The hands on the clock weren’t moving fast enough, I kept envisioning myself tearing it off the wall and running it through my band saw several hundred times.

Dyson was still asleep, sleeping like a baby no doubt. I still couldn’t believe he fucked around on me. I never thought in a million years he was that type, or that it would upset me like this.

My cell phone went off, scaring the shit out of me.

“Hello.”

“Good morning Harley, its Tag.”

“Morning, what can I do for you?” I asked, it wasn’t like Tag to call me, I wasn’t aware he even knew my number.

“Where’s Dyson? I’ve been leaving messages and I called him like twenty times. My flight leaves in an hour and I wanted to say goodbye, I’m at the airport,” Tag sounded distraught.

“He’s in bed,” I told him. “He’s not up yet.”

“If it’s not too much bother, could you tell him to call me when he gets up?” Tag asked.

“I’ll do the next best thing, hang on.”

I trotted up the stairs and knocked on Dyson’s door, when he didn’t answer I thought maybe he was in the shower. I opened the door to a dark room and Dyson sound asleep. I placed my hand on his back and shook him until he stirred.

“Dyson, the phone’s for you,” I held it in his face.

“Who? What? Fuck, what time is it?” Dyson asked, rolling onto his back, rubbing his hands over his beautiful chest.

I could have ripped the covers from the bed and jumped on Dyson’s morning wood, which was nicely tenting the sheets. I should still be mad at him, but he did something to me, made my heart beat a bit faster. He was the reason I was now aware I had a heart and it was capable of all kinds of things, like caring, breaking and yes, loving. Although I wasn’t ready for that just yet, I had a lot of thinking to do.

“It’s nearly eight,” I told him. “Tag’s on the phone, he wants to say goodbye.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Dyson said, smiling up at me. “Tag? Hey, sorry about that I’m still in bed…kind of shitty, but I’ll live.”

From the one-sided conversation, I surmised that Dyson was not himself this morning. I thought it was time to insist he call the doctor and make an appointment. Like most men, me included, he would probably rather be dragged through hot coals than give in and see a doctor. This flu or whatever it was had dragged on for long enough. All he was doing was sleeping and he was down at least ten pounds. Dyson’s face was gray but it could have been the dim light in the room. I opened the blinds and let the morning light stream in, this was the best room in the place first thing in the morning.

“Have fun in Scotland, I want a shot of you in a kilt,” Dyson laughed, though it lacked his usual enthusiasm. “Say hi to Nessie for me…love you too, safe trip.”

“Dyson,” I looked at his pale face and sunken eyes. “If you’re not up to it today, I can do this on my own you stay in bed and get better. I’ll call the doctor for you this afternoon when I get back and make you an appointment.”

“No, I’m going with you.” Dyson sat up, taking a sip of water from the bottle I snuck into him before my run, I couldn’t help taking care of him. “And I don’t need to see some quack doctor to tell me to drink fluids and get lots of rest. I don’t need take two aspirin and call me in the morning bullshit! I’m fine.”

“You are not fine!” I barked. “But there’s no fucking arguing with you, is there? I’ll wait downstairs while you shower and dress, we need to go into the office for a while, there’s a meeting I have to attend, EJ is not going to let me out of it.”

“Sure, I’ll be a half hour at most,” Dyson got out of bed, promenading his naked ass into the washroom, I nearly ignited.

~Dyson~

The headache I went to bed with for the past few nights seemed to be worsening, and with it came a queasy shaky feeling. My chest ached and I had an annoying cough. The mere mention of food left my gut heaving. My throat felt sore and dry as I coughed into a tissue. I looked at the tissue before tossing it into the trash, there was a tinge of pink and though I should have been concerned, I treated it like it was no big deal. I went back to bed.

All I wanted to do was sleep. My head felt like it weighed a ton as I laid it on my crossed arms and closed my eyes. The next thing I remembered was Harley’s voice and felt his warm hand at the center of my back.

There was no missing the way Harley looked at me, with hungry eyes the second I rose from that bed, it told a story of lust with a heart that beat just for me. He was only fooling himself by acting like a tough ass and pouting about God knows what.

I took a deep breath leaning against the vanity while my head spun.

I was allowing him the right to be nasty, to strike out and use me as a punching bag because of the situation with his mother and Bruno. But once they were taken care of all bets were off and he was going to tell me what had him so twisted the last few days. If I had to lock him in that cabin he was taking me to and beat the pulp out of him to get an answer, I was prepared to do just that.

Since Harley was dressed in a suit and tie, I decided to do the same. I wore my favorite dark gray Versace wool suit. I didn’t wear it too often; I considered it my power suit. Matched up with a white button-down shirt and a black tie, I stood in front of the mirror and pinched some color into my cheeks. Then I changed the tie to red, dark blood red and went downstairs to meet Harley.

“Will I do?” I asked, spinning around for Harley’s inspection, regretting the move as my head spun wildly and I casually leaned against the wall to disguise the nausea.

“I like the tie,” he smiled, passing me my briefcase. “Thanks again for doing this.”

“Let’s go kick some ass.”

~~~

We sat in the parking lot in silence for twenty minutes while Harley got his shit together, he was a nervous wreck, understandably so.

“Gentlemen,” Sam greeted us as we walked into the bar. “There’s a booth at the back with your name on it, I’ll be right with you.”

“No rush, we’re waiting for someone,” Harley told him.

“Holler when you’re ready,” Sam told us with a smile.

“Will do,” I said, as Harley sat. “Where would you like me?”

“Right here,” he patted the seat at his side. “I don’t want either one of them getting anywhere near me.”

His words both flattered and disturbed me. He wanted me close, was I reading more into his words than need be? Was I being used only as a blocker?

Harley huffed a comment I couldn’t quite make out then nodded in the direction of the bar, my eyes followed.

“Are those not your friends that I saw you with the other day?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah I think it is,” I was hoping they would be more discreet. “I should go say hello before our guests get here.”

“Please don’t call them that,” Harley snapped at me. “The word guest is usually reserved for someone you want to see.”

“Sorry, give me a few minutes,” I said, as I stood smoothing my suit jacket. “I’ll get us drinks, Chivas alright with you?”

“Make it a double.” His scowl told it all, Harley was pissed off and his boiling point was slowly on the rise.

~Harley~

How could Dyson worry about saying hello to his friends when I needed him the most? I never knew him to be so selfish. He shook their hands and hugged that asshole he brought into our bed. What was I saying, our bed? I was losing my mind as he stood there carrying on a pleasant conversation while I was sat here alone waiting for the devil and her sidekick to show. Didn’t he get how anxious I was? I needed that drink, I needed it bad. I was ready to go get it myself when I watched him shake hands with his friends and grab our drinks from the bar.

Looking past Dyson, I saw his friends head out the back and from my peripheral I caught sight of a gaudy mustard yellow trench coat and shiny black stilettos as they moved in my direction, clicking loudly on the hardwood floor.

Bruno couldn’t have looked more out of place in a leather jacket with a ratty denim vest over it, graced with biker patches. His navy dress pants were carefully ironed with a perfect crease down the leg and his shoes looked shiny and new. He looked comically like the bottom half of a businessman and the top half of a grimy biker glued together. The heavy stubble on his chin, his dark eyes and the scar over his nose, thanks to me, gave him a hit man want-to-be look.  

“What are you drinking?” Dyson asked, as he handed me my drink and set his soda water on the table. He waved to Sam who came over with his customary smile and wiped the table.

“Put whatever they’re having on my tab,” Dyson told him.

“Ladies first,” Sam smiled, as a laugh escaped me.

The glare I got from mommy dearest should have killed me on the spot.

“I’ll have a martini,” mommy dearest said, slipping off her trench coat and handing it to Bruno. “Extra dry, with three olives, not one, not two, but three.”

“Extra dry martini, three olives, got it,” Sam flicked his brow at me when she sat looking down while fanning out her skirt. “And you?”

“Whatever’s on tap,” Bruno said, draping the trench coat over the back of the booths seat.

“Well, where is it?” mommy dearest asked.

“I have it here,” I lifted the handle of the knapsack nestled between Dyson and me. “I want to make a few things clear before I hand it over.”

“It’s all there?” Bruno asked, receiving my cold angry glower.

“Like I said, I need to be clear,” I focused on mommy dearest, the lesser of the two evils, if at all possible.

Sam brought over the drinks, setting them and a bowl of trail mix on the table. “Anything else?”

“We’re good Sam,” Dyson said.

Sam moved on to the next table as I started off where I left.

“Once you and the money walk out that door, I never want to see your faces again. Neither one of you will make any kind of contact with me, Chelsea or Dyson. No contact whatsoever. No calls, no letters, not even a fucking Christmas card. You have no reason anyway, there’s no more money. Every last cent you ever gave me is in here,” I patted the knapsack. “So there’s nothing to come back for.”

It wasn’t a lie. I made sure she was getting it all back. She didn’t need to know about investments or accumulated interest, which I had future plans for.

“How do we know it’s all there for sure?” Bruno sneered, as if any of this had to do with him. “It could be filled with shredded paper for all we know.

“Do you really want to go there?” Dyson asked, dropping his chin and lifting his brows.

“You seriously think I’d do that?” I shook my head. “This is my golden opportunity to get you the fuck out of my life. I’m not going to jeopardize that by playing silly bitch games with you. It’s all there.”

“Bruno, please,” mommy dearest spoke slowly, as she slipped an olive from the plastic cocktail sword with her tongue and chewed it. “I don’t want any trouble. Let’s make this as painless as we can. I agree to your demands. It’s not like I’ll be heartbroken if I never see you again. Face it, there’s no love lost from either side of this table. You go your way, I go mine. Besides, once I’m elected I’ll be too busy to give a shit for you or Chelsea and that bastard kid of hers.”

“Whoa, you’re the fucking epitome of motherhood, it’s amazing!” Dyson scowled. “Mary Jones ain’t got nothing on you lady.”

“Who?” she asked.

I should have known better than to think she watched movies, especially being that
Precious
was portrayed by a black woman. My mother hid the fact that she was a racist, prejudiced, vile excuse for a human being. The public saw her as this saintly, charitable, angel-like super hero. It was funny how a slap of makeup and the right outfit changed how people saw others, when behind closed doors the people closest saw the truth as it bubbled to the surface, and her cauldron was bubbling for sure.

“Give us the fucking money,” Bruno grunted. “I for one will never darken you doorstep, consider me history.”

“You’re already history you son-of-a-bitch,” I told him through gritted teeth, turning to mommy dearest. “As for you, Chels and I have lived our entire lives without a mother, it won’t make a difference now. And don’t ever talk about Chelsea’s baby like that again, you contemptible bitch.”

“If we are done here,” mommy dearest gave a bored stiff sigh, swigging back the rest of her drink and blotting her thickly painted lips with a cocktail napkin. “I’m ready to bid you both adiós.”

I handed the bag across the table, more than happy to see this all come to a conclusion and be on my way to the cabin. As she was about to unzip the bag, I started to stand, Dyson latched onto my wrist and held me in my seat.

“Would you like us to wait while you count it?” Dyson asked.