Exploits (25 page)

Read Exploits Online

Authors: Poppet

I get a mild kick out of watching Julie’s shameless flirting. She's looks like a movie star, naturally. Couple this with those teeny-tiny heels she's wearing and second-skin jeans and she is a source of endless amusement. I watch the men behind her accidentally bumping into each other as they're captivated by her writhing form.

Selene is on my left, Terry on my right, we're all smoking and giggling. I am totally oblivious, I'm relishing the moment with my friends so much. I watch Terry's eyes light up as some tall guy starts walking towards her. He squeezes between us and talks to her, then kisses her.

Oh, this is interesting. She tugs my arm and yells, "This is John! He’s my boyfriend!”

I smile at him and offer my hand, "Hi John. I'm Stef."

He leans his dark haired head down to my
level, "Sorry, what was that?"

"I'm Stef! Pleased to meet you!"

He lifts his head somewhat and shoots a melting smile at me, "JOHN." And he shakes my hand.

I continue dancing and lean over to Selene to
tell her who the guy next to me is. Terry is chatting away into his other ear. The loud music forcing us all to speak intimately into each others ears. Not that I mind, as it's La Paz from Scotland.

"So how do you know Terry?"

Be still my heart. I was so zoned out he gave me a fright. Smiling politely, I speak into his ear. He's so tall, he really has to bend down to hear me, "We used to work together."

He shoots me another cute grin, "Oh right! Yes, she told me that." He rubs a hand over my shoulder in a friendly fashion and queries by bending down, "Can I get you another drink?"

I nod and yell, "Yes please!"

After a quick query around the circle, Terry and John go off to acquire refills.

"He’s cute!"

I grin at Selene, "He is."

We continue gossiping, dancing, giggling, eyeing out the talent at Stones, and I do feel very bad for John, as he's the only man here on a ladies night out. I make an effort to make him feel welcome by yelling up, "So where are your friends?"

He shoots the cute smile down at me, "Working late." He checks his watch and scouts the perimeter, and the bar, with his gaze, before yelling, "Actually, they should be here now!"

I nod. Not knowing what to say.

"You don’t look like this kind of place is your scene!"

I arch an eyebrow, surprised it's that obvious, "It’s not. I usually go to the Swinging Door!"

His face beams with recognition and it finally hits me between the eyes that he's dressed only in black, "Me too. I can’t believe I let Terry talk me into this!"

He turns to talk to Terry and I give Selene a covert smile, eyeing out the heroin addict-looking guy who just sauntered in. Black leather pants, a laced up white shirt with long straight black hair like a Cherokee. I nudge her, "He looks like your type!"

She laughs, "You know me too well!"

A tap on my shoulder returns my attention to John. Two more tall guys are standing with him, one looking a tad too interested in me to be honest, "These are my friends! André and Sam!"

I smile at each, and shake hands. Then return back to my circle of friends, suddenly feeling
awkward.

"See you later. It was nice meeting you!" He yells into my ear, drawing my attention back to him.

I nod and smile, giving a brief wave good-bye to his friends too. I exhale a sigh of relief at being just us girls.


Pause ...             

 

 


Play …

I can't hear anything as I try, as quietly as possible, to open the front door. I am much later than I thought I'd be home. It's just after two and I'm hoping Gary is still out.

My ears are humming from the sudden silence after all the noise. I have had far too much alcohol and am definitely drunk. I'm also really happy. I let myself in and slip my shoes off at the door. Softly, I close the door behind me, when the lights flip on, exposing me.

"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?"

I don't know why, but I feel guilty. "Out with the girls. I told you where we were going."

"WHO WAS THAT MAN YOU WERE WITH?"

 

Chapter 32

 

Oh God

 

GULP.

Jeeez! Fuckenhell, what's your problem?

"What man?"

He looks really angry. His face is pinched with rage.

Just look at you. Sitting in a chair, right at the door in the dark, waiting to be my killjoy the minute I get home. I've never done this to you, you know.

And in all of our years together, this is the first time I've gone out with my friends without you. So why the hell are you being so bloody anally retentive about it? How dare you spy on me, you asshole.

Annoyance rises in me as he stands up to look down his nose at me, "I'm not stupid. You're fucking me around!"

Lifting my chin, I glare back, I wish my ears would stop buzzing, "I am
not
fucking you around."

He grabs my arm in a death grip and jeers into my face, "WHAT IS HIS NAME!"

Seriously, I don't know who he's referring to. He saw me talking to someone. But who? The guy I said ‘excuse me’ to as I squeezed past him into the Ladies? Or the guy at the bar that tried to chat me up when I was buying a round? Fuck it.

"Gary, I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!"

He thrusts me away from him in disgust, causing me to collide with the kitchen door frame, "Lying bitch."

He has just robbed me of every single shred of joy I walked into this home with. I can feel the hurt stinging my eyes as I rub my arm.

"Gary, explain to me what you saw, so that I can answer you."

And why the hell were you spying on me?

With a clenched jaw he forces out, "The tall guy you spent your night dancing and flirting with. I SAW you together.
Don’t deny it
.”
             

His eyes shout whore at me, without him saying a word.

Relief floods through me at the misunderstanding. I smile and sag, "Oh
him
. That's John. Terry's boyfriend."

He leans over me again and inches his nose close to mine, "Do I look stupid to you?" He stands up straight and scowls down at me, "If you're going to lie, at least try and make it sound convincing."

I'm so appalled. I watch as he marches away from me into the dark of the home. I stand alone, the cold of the tiles seeping into my feet. Deflated and hurt, I'm not sure what to do.

I spy him storming back with a pillow and a blanket, which he throws with amazing precision onto the couch, "
You're sleeping there tonight
."

You know what? I'm very angry myself now.
How dare you assume I'm guilty.

"Gary, stop being such an asshole. I did nothing wrong. It's not my fault that Terry brought her man to ladies night. I didn't do anything with him ..."

"You TOUCHED him. You had your hand on his arm! I SAW you!"

I flinch at the sudden shouting in the quiet of the early morning, and argue back, "Gary, did you
see how tall he was? I had to stand on tiptoes to talk to him. I touched his arm to keep my balance. I was being polite. I felt sorry for him being stuck with us because of Terry."

Oh God, he looks like he's going to hit me. I keep a wary eye on his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Without warning, my body floods with fear. Maybe I should just leave it and let him persecute me for something I didn't do.

I wait and watch him, convinced he's just gutted me and my entrails are falling out. I'm weak and shaky. We're right back in hell again. Hello misery. How nice of you to come back and find me. I didn't miss you.

He looks like he's going to say something, but then turns and stalks away, slamming the bedroom door, leaving me alone in a cold twilight of an entrance hall. I sigh, and tiptoe to go and brush my teeth.

             

After that, I couldn't sleep. I felt so cold and uncomfortable. This leather is freezing, the chair hard and unyielding. I've become a bit of a bony wench, which isn't helping. I wriggle onto my back and stare up in the dark at the ceiling.

John was with us for, at the maximum, half an hour. Did Gary spy on me the whole night? Or did he just show up in time to see John with us, and assume it was the whole night?

The mental playback reveals John rubbing my shoulder when he offered me a drink. Gagging on tears as I realise that it did look bad. But
why couldn't he have confronted me right there and then? It could all have been cleared up. But no. Instead he has to do this to me. Now, when I have no security. No home of my own. No job. Now, he's trying to destroy my life again.

I flop onto my side and begin sobbing. I feel so desolate and lonely, that I pray for death. The reunion of Gary and Stefanie just
lost all the joy.

Bitterly, I realise that it's already been more than a month and he hasn't even tried to sell his house. And he just went back to the way things were when he owned my money. I buy the groceries.

He has his friends around every weekend as usual. I'm catering crates of beer and for food I don't eat, all out of my savings. I have to do something.

I wake up with a gaze burning a hole of hatred into my shoulder blades. I turn and survey Gary sitting in an adjoining chair, glaring at me, his mouth tight with disapproval.

"You look like a slut."

Good morning to you too.

"How can you go out dressed like that?"

I sit up and sleepily observe my wicked master, "I am wearing jeans, Gary. I'd hardly call this a slutty outfit."

My mind instantly jumps to Selene's dress that she had me wear from the Robert Palmer video, and I smile accidentally.
You'd snap your aorta if you saw me in that.

"So, you think this is funny? Coming up with a plan, abusing my trust, so you can fuck me around with other men?"

I keep quiet and fold my arms.
Go on. Get it all out of your system.

"I knew it!
Your guilt keeping you quiet? Worried you'll dig yourself in deeper?"

I sigh heavily and examine my hands.

"You are never going out with that bunch of slags again!
Do you hear me?
"

My heartbeat just accelerated. I have to fight for this freedom. He can't take this joy away from me. "Yes, I will."

"No, you WON'T."

"Yes, I WILL."

"Then get out! Fucking
SLUT
."

He stands, his face flushing with anger, he yells louder than I've ever heard him, "
GET OUT."

Oh look, he's pointing at the door as if I don't know where it is. My logic kicks into action.
"Where am I going to go?"

"I don’t fucking care."

"Gary, you fucked up my plans, and you expect me to just instantly have a reserve plan? I am here because you
PROMISED
not to hurt me. I am here because you told me you
LOVE
me. You haven’t done
ANYTHING
you said you would. I am
NOT
leaving until I am good and bloody ready to"

He glares at me and spits out, "If you stay here, then you are getting rid of the tramp stamp! You were never a whore. Three months without me and just
look
at you! You are pathetic! I wouldn't fuck you now if you paid me to."

Ouch
.

Good, because I don't particularly want you anywhere near me either.

I argue back, "You have a tattoo. How come it doesn't make you trash, but it makes me trash? I'll have mine removed when you have yours removed."

"Fuck you."

" No,
fuck
you."

He grimaces maliciously, "Not if you paid me for it, darlin."

I glare and reach for my box of smokes. My hands are shaking violently from the adrenalin surging through me. Survival instinct is at full throttle.

I take one out and light it, exhaling the smoke in his direction with as much disdain as I can muster without my morning coffee.

He leers toward me again, "If you stay here, that's going to stop."

What's going to stop?

He reaches over and picks up my smokes, crushing the box in one hand. "Enjoy that. You've just stopped smoking."

What? No! I've smoked since you met me. How dare you!

I stand up, now shaking with vicious tremors, "You can't do that."

"Watch me." He looks so triumphant I feel like decking him.

"The smoking in this house ends right now. Look at you. You look like such a cheap piece of shit. Dressed like a slut, a fag hanging out your mouth. Throwing yourself at men."

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