Deviant (33 page)

Chapter 39

    Tyler

No amount of comfort seemed to put me at ease. No amount of nice words or pats on the shoulder was enough to stop my heart from being ripped from my chest. I went through my days void of any companionship. Not even my stranger came to see me in my week of grief. I made funeral arrangements for Jeremy and attended like I should have, with a very upset Julie standing next to me. I made a pact with myself that I wouldn’t fall apart despite the fact I was dying inside. Life went on, but as far as I was concerned, it had all ended the day the lift doors opened and the world came tumbling down. At first, I blamed my parents. I blamed anybody that could have been involved in this somehow. I couldn’t understand how this happened. I knew my mum and dad could never have done something like this to me, but it didn’t stop the torrent of words that came out of my mouth. Of course, once I calmed down, I apologised and they forgave me. They said I was just grieving. They understood and, once all was said, I was given the much needed hug and was told it would never be mentioned again.

I only existed now. I got up in the morning, did my column, and went to bed. I lived on nothing but water and crackers, feeling sick every time something touched my lips. I threw up on several occasions, knowing that the guilt was trying to rid me of its terrible sins. It was almost as if my body was ridding me of the awful things Jeremy thought I had done. Several times, I found myself falling asleep on what was supposed to be his bed. In my arms, I clutched a new book and a packet of Twiglets that he was supposed to eat once he got out of hospital. In the end, I opened a packet and ate the whole lot. It seemed it was the only thing I could keep down. It made me laugh to think this was somehow Jeremy’s punishment for me. That I could only eat Twiglets from now on because of what he thought I did to him. So, day after day, I ate Twiglets. I ate them until I felt sick. I ate them until my stomach was full and my eyes grew heavy with sleep. All I did was work, eat crap, and sleep. It had become my regular pattern for the week. There was no laughter, no tears, no Spaghetti Bolognaise nights, and no visits from my stranger. I just carried on with what I had to, and nothing more.

Once the funeral was over, I found myself driving home in the pouring rain. My parents were there, Louisa and Ian were there, but I couldn’t find it in my heart to see any of them afterwards. I told them I was okay, but the truth of the matter was that I wasn’t. All I wanted to do now was go home, drink my sorrows away, and pray that things would get better one day. So, once I got home, I did just that. I cracked open a bag of Twiglets, poured myself some brandy, and sat there watching
Top Gear
for four hours straight. Once my eyes grew heavy, I dragged myself, fully-clothed, towards my bed. I couldn’t sleep in Jeremy’s room tonight. My head couldn’t take that right now. I just wanted my familiar smells and the sedated effects of the alcohol to take over. It was only seven o’clock by the time I got to bed, but it was dark enough to fall asleep. It wasn’t long before I did just that.

*****

It didn’t seem like long after that I woke, but when I peeked at the time, it was just after one in the morning. I had slept in the same position for six hours straight. My head felt fuzzy and the nausea was creeping back, but that served me right after downing five shots of brandy.

I knew he was here. That was why I woke up. He was hovering at my bedroom door just like he did every time he came to visit. He would stand there for a while, almost like he was watching me. It was as though he was trying to figure me out. What he was trying to get to the bottom of, I have no idea, but I never once interrupted him. I never once said anything to break his spell. I just let him watch me. I let him stalk me because, now, he was a part of me. I lived and breathed my stranger. I lived and breathed Lotus. What could he offer me in my time of grief? Could he somehow momentarily take away this immeasurable pain? Could it be possible that he could break this spell of depression I had found myself under all week?

Before I could even think about the answers, he stepped forward.

Chapter 40

    Dean

Beware the fury of a patient man.

John Dryden

I had been telling myself all week that I had to come to her and see for myself just how much of a stupid fuck I’d been. I had to witness the insurmountable pain I had caused. Not because I wanted to feed off it. Not because I would gain pleasure from it. No. I did it because I had to show myself what I had done to her. I had to see whether all I had put into action was truly worth it in the end. Of course, it wasn’t. I had been telling myself that for a long time now. The voice was there, rattling in my brain. It had been kicking and thumping around in there until my head was sore.

I just didn’t listen.

And what was the end result of all this?

Tyler’s pain. Tyler’s anguish. Tyler’s suffering.

Wasn’t that what I had been wanting all along? Of course! I just didn’t foresee it would result in an innocent boy’s death.
I
was the cause of his death, no one else. Me. He didn’t deserve to be embroiled in my revenge. He was an innocent victim in all this.

Collateral damage.

Fisting my hands tightly together, I watched as Tyler lay there, fully-clothed. She still wore the same clothes she had on at the funeral. Of course, I was there and watched the whole ceremony. I made myself do it because, in some sick and twisted way, I felt like I was getting the punishment I deserved. I deserved to watch her pain because that was what I was after all along.

But did I feel good about it? Did I celebrate on the rooftops shouting “Hooray, hooray”? Of course not. Jeremy was dead because I was a stupid fuck who was too consumed with rage and desire for revenge.
You seek havoc, but all you’ll end up finding is despair.

My uncle was right. I didn’t want to fucking admit it, but he was bang on. I had dug my grave and, to punish myself, I should be buried right alongside Jeremy. In some sick, twisted irony, the two graves had been dug. It was just a technicality that differentiated between the two.

In the past week, I had drowned myself in a sea of paperwork, punching bags, bourbon, and despair. The only actual contact I made to the outside world was when Carmichael came around to thank me again for the offer of the holiday. He had taken his wife out, wooed her like he was twenty again, and surprised her with my offered gift. He was there now, no doubt sunning it up with Cynthia and the girls, having a great time at the villa. I was glad for them. If Carmichael wanted to be a better man and Cynthia gave him that chance, all the best to them. Some things were just worth fighting for.

Tyler, on the other hand, looked like she had lost her fight. She looked so fragile curled up into a little ball with what looked like a packet of Twiglets in her hand. I wondered what had been the fascination with these Twiglets. I often saw them lying around the house and inside what I presumed would have been Jeremy’s room. A part of me wondered if, in some sick way, I didn’t orchestrate what I did just so it would halt any plans for that to happen. I had to have Tyler to myself at all costs.

It’s just that I had paid the ultimate price.

Tyler was never going to leave my thoughts, no matter how much I tried to push her out of them. Looking at her now, it was hard to comprehend how she could have done what she did to me. How on earth could what I heard and saw possibly have been real? I knew I had to go to her tonight. I knew I had to comfort her. Not because it felt like a way of getting back at her, but because I felt I could offer her the comfort she needed. I knew she had turned everyone else away. I knew it was a great possibility she would do the same to me. But I had to try. I had to offer her the chance to turn me away. It would only be what I deserved.

So, with my mind made up, I stepped forward, careful with my footing so as not to frighten her or disturb her too much. I sat on the bed, pulling my knees up towards her so that my feet could dangle off the bed. With a little tug, I pulled her to me, one arm draped around her, and instantly got that whiff of her beautiful coconut scent. I couldn’t help but close my eyes and breathe her in.

“You haven’t been here,” she whispered, a croak in her voice. I could instantly smell the alcohol and it tore me up that she had been suffering on her own, drinking on her own. She should never get to that stage where the only comfort she had was at the bottom of a bottle.

But wasn’t that what I came for? Her destruction, her demise, her pain? Wasn’t that what I truly desired?

“I’m sorry,” I whispered back, and I truly meant it. I meant it more than she could ever know.

“But you’re here now,” she sighed, resolutely.

“Yes. I am here now.” I wrapped my arm around her more tightly.

“But for how long.”

Closing my eyes, I fought hard to keep the sigh that wanted to escape me inside. She wasn’t asking the question, she was merely stating the obvious. I came. I took. I fucked off. That was me wrapped up in one hell of a sick, fucked-up package.

“Do you want me to leave?” I had to ask. I had to know the answer to the burning question. She had been turning everyone away all week. Could she see it in her to do the same with me?

“No.” She whispered it so faintly, it would have been hard to hear if it wasn’t for the fact that I was expecting a yes or no. “Please stay.”

I sighed heavily and cradled her more tenderly in my arms. I knew this was what she wanted all along. In any other circumstance, I would have denied her, but I craved her just as much as she did me. Our relationship had turned twisted, but it had worked. I never thought it would ever come to this, but Tyler surprised me again and again.

So, I had to give her this. I had to show her any amount of comfort I could. She was suffering and had been turning down offers of support. I couldn’t see it in my heart to be the one that turned her down when she obviously needed me. It defied logic, but she needed me.

For a while, we lay there. For a moment, I thought she had fallen asleep. I was about to move when she suddenly turned to look at me. Without warning, she lifted her hand to my face and stroked my cheek. I couldn’t help but close my eyes and lean into her touch.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, making my eyes pop open again. “Please, just for today. Kiss me.”

I agonised with the word
no
playing on the edge of my tongue. I had to say it, for my own good as well as Tyler’s. But, for some reason, my tongue got stuck. It wouldn’t move and it just remained stoic as she stared at me with hope and desperation in her eyes.

So, without another thought, I leaned in. I placed my lips to hers and, instantly, I was lost to my Tyler, my angel, my girl whose window I used to crawl up to when I was just a young naïve boy. For some reason, kissing her felt so right. It felt as though I was coming home after a long stretch in hell. Her mouth was warm and familiar. Her lips so soft and smooth. Kissing Tyler had always felt like nothing else in the world mattered.

Hooked under Tyler’s spell, I manoeuvred myself on top of her. She never once stopped me. In fact, she parted her legs so that she could let me in. Biting her lip gently, I placed my hand at the bottom of her dress and pulled up. She was wearing lace panties today and, by fuck, they felt good on her.

Still kissing her, I grabbed her left thigh and squeezed with just enough force to make her moan. Her hands were underneath the back of my hoodie as she scratched my back from the top right down to my hips. I arched up, claiming her mouth again, more forcefully this time. As always, she let me take the lead as I pulled away and kissed her gently in the curve of her neck. Her breathing was hitched and as erratic as mine as my erection strained in my trousers. I had wanted her before, but not like this. This was more. This was somehow...real.

Positioning my groin on hers, I pushed a little, causing her to moan. It was almost an agonising moan, so full of desire, so full of need. With my head still at the base of her neck, I kissed along her chest until I reached the other side of her neck where I licked up towards her jawline.

“Dean…,” she whispered, her voice still filled with want.

I froze. I knew I heard her but, for some reason, I couldn’t move. After a few seconds, Tyler seemed to realise her blunder. She froze, too.

“Oh god. I’m so sorry,” she said, an edge of pain in her voice. “I’m not myself. I didn’t realise what I was saying.”

I didn’t want to listen anymore. Without another word, I got up. I couldn’t possibly stay after hearing her calling me by my name. Somehow, hearing it put things into perspective for me. This wasn’t what I came for. I didn’t come back to her for this. Certainly not for the reason she would think her Dean would come back for.

“Please, don’t leave me. Not tonight. I’m so sorry.”

I heard the pain in her voice, but I had to ignore it. I had to fight the ache coming from my head, my stomach, my heart. I couldn’t have a heart. I was a demon. Demons have black hearts, void of any emotion. Void of any compassion. Void of any love.

With my back to her, I faced the door, but I couldn’t move. I was rooted to the spot, unable to find motion. My head raged and roared inside me. I had to go, but I couldn’t.

You can’t leave her.

I had to. This wasn’t part of the deal. I had a score to settle and I settled it. I came here to say sorry and she called me by my name. If I stayed, she may see right through me. She may see what had become of her Dean…the boy who climbed up her window, the boy who loved her more than life itself.

So, I left. My feet began to move and I left her alone, crying on her bed. She needed me and I bolted.

Yes, I know. I was a fucking asshole. Had I ever promised I would be anything but?