Read London Falling Online

Authors: Audrey Carlan

London Falling (17 page)

We both grunted and grumbled. “Cocksucker,” slipped through my lips and Emma laughed. That was the second time this evening that expletive had made an appearance.

“Seriously, I want to know the craziest places you’ve bonked a girl.” Both of us stayed silent and continued to pack up the left overs and put away the unused stemware. “Come on…no? Neither of you? Fine, I’ll go first.”

Not wanting to hear anything pertaining to our baby sister having sex,Nathaniel and I both said “No!” at the same time Emma said, “Mum and Dad’s bed.”

“No way. You and Evan shagged in Mum and Dad’s bed! That’s just nasty. I can’t believe you.” I laughed. Nathaniel made gagging and unpleasant noises.

“That’s pretty bold, Em.” We both chuckled. Her cheeks pinked.

“I’d have to say for me it was the toilet at a pub. Those stalls are tiny and filthy. When you’re pissed and horny it doesn’t matter though,” I answered, sipping the remainder of my wine and adding the glass to the sink next to the others awaiting a good washing.

“That is gross, Colly.” Her pretty face scrunched in a grimace. “How about you, Nate? Come on. We shared,” she pouted.

He sighed and took a moment to think about it.

“On a bakery floor.”

“That’s lame,” Emma said.

“Yeah, bollocks. Pick a new one.”

“What? You guys have no idea what falls on the floor of a bakery. It’s sticky, gritty, and slimy all at the same time. Imagine a beautiful bird riding you, yet all you can think about is the disgusting muck scraping along your bare back and arse. It’s quite possibly the single most revolting experience of my life. Couldn’t look at the girl the same again. Had to break it off.”

Em and I looked at our brother and cracked up laughing.

“What? It was horrible.”

I shook my head and grabbed Em around the shoulders. “Come on, baby girl, let’s go home. Your brother has gone barmey. Thanks for tonight. Cheers!” I threw over my shoulder.

We could hear Nathaniel going on and on about how he had to scrape egg and flour off the hair of his legs and that he could still feel the sugar granules piercing his shoulder blades against the title floor.

“He needs a good woman.” I hugged my sister to my side as we made our way into the elevator and down to the garage.

“I think you’re right. If only he’d allow himself more than one date, we’d be getting somewhere.”

Pulling open the car door, Emma slid into my beloved Porsche. She had a point. It was rare that Nathaniel would have a second date with a prospective love interest. Lately, we’d both been pulling the one night stand routine. Far longer than I wanted to admit.

That is until London came along.

Her face was the only one I’d seen for the past three weeks. Man, I was looking forward to our date. I’d have to get Jane to assist since she picked a great place last time. This time though, I wanted to show London I’m a regular guy who just wants to take a pretty girl out for the night on the town.

Chapter - 11

“Wake up, my love. Today’s the day.” His voice was chipper this morning, and then it dawned on me. Today’s the day. My smile was huge as I flung out of bed. But he wasn’t there.

Slowly I searched through the apartment, checking door after door. All empty. Gone. He was gone. Nervousness twitched in my gut.

“London,” a voice called teasingly from outside the apartment.

I laughed and hurled myself out the door, all smiles. I looked left and right down the long hallway. Nothing. Where is he? I strained to hear more of his voice.

“London…I need you.” I heard him call from somewhere to the right, his voice now pained, gritty. “My love, please…” tapered off into nothing, sending shivers skittering through my limbs. I pounded down the hall in my bare feet until I reached the heavy metal doors. Bright white light stung my eyes, blinding me as I pushed the doors open.

Rain pelted my face, wetting my hair and clothes. Cold, so cold. I shivered bone-deep, standing on a street I couldn’t recognize wearing only a tank top and bed shorts.

“Where are you?” I screamed, trying to get my vision back, blinking furiously at the spots of rainbow light.

“Here. I’m here!” I moved on pure instinct. Gravel and rocks dug into the tender patch of skin at the arches of my feet. My hands were straight out in front of me until they hit cold metal. I slid wet fingers along the surface as if reading braille until I felt the handle. Slowly, the lights blinding me faded away and I gripped the car door handle and pulled it back.

Blood. Blood was everywhere. His head, chest and abdomen are coated with the thick burgundy substance.

“Don’t forget me, love. Never forget me,” James said. Blood oozed from his mouth in a sickening river of red.

Gut-wrenching screams ripped from my lungs as James took his last breath. I covered my eyes with bloody hands. James’s blood was all over me, soaking the white tank a deep crimson. The coppery smell gagged me. The sour taste filled my mouth. When I looked up it was no longer James sitting there coated in death, it was Collier. My sweet, sexy Englishman’s chocolate eyes were devoid of light. Gone. They both were gone.

James.

Collier.

Dead.

“Wake up, God dammit! Baby wake up!” Tripp’s voice pierced my mind and I woke with a start. A scream still clogged in my throat screeched out into the light of day. “London, oh thank God! Are you okay?” Tripp’s arms were around me, holding tight. Tears poured down my cheeks and fell to his chest.

“Dead, they were dead.”

“Who Bridge, who was dead?”

“James…and…and…“ Another bout of deep sobs tore from my lungs as I gripped his back, hiding in the comfort of his chest. The sickening images from the dream were still fresh.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” He spoke in a calm voice, one you’d use with a frightened child. Right now I felt like one. Fear’s evil claws closed around my heart and squeezed tight, choking off my sanity.

“C-c-ollier…dead. It was James and then…and then…it was Collier. Oh God, it was awful.” I cried into Tripp’s chest. “He left me, Tripp. He left me just like James.”

“Bridge baby, it was just a dream. Collier is--” He gritted his teeth and pulled me back to look into my eyes. He swiped away the tears that wouldn’t stop and took a deep breath. “Collier is not James. He’s very much alive.” I had a feeling he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t.

“It was so real, it was my wedding day and James was waking me up like he did that day. I actually remembered how I felt when he woke me. Like everything in the world was just right…until it wasn’t anymore.” I sniffed and wiped my dripping nose with the back of my arm. Tripp grimaced and pulled a tissue out of the box on the end table and handed it to me. “Thanks.” I blew my nose and took a deep breath, trying to expel the images scratching to the surface. “It was…God, Tripp. It was so real.”

Tripp pulled me into the warmth of his embrace, cradling my head. “So, Bond has gotten to you then? He’s under your skin.” He didn’t say what I knew he was trying to say and I was thankful. I was nowhere near ready to think things were any different with Collier than they were with any other man. If I wanted to be with Collier, I couldn’t be with other men. Knowing what I knew of Collier and his third degree last night, he would not share.

No, I’d see this through until we’d worked each other out of our systems. It was bound to happen. This thing with Collier was unique in the sense that I wanted to see more of him and often, but it wouldn’t last. It never did. Eventually I’d tire of him.

But why the dream? The only man I’d ever dreamt about was James. In four years, I have only ever dreamed of James. and now I’ve had a fantasy and a nightmare about Collier.

“So you’re dating Bond officially?” Tripp stood up to pull my robe off the door hanger. I wasn’t naked but goose bumps were still prevalent on my arms and legs, giving physical proof of how frightened I’d been.

I nodded and slipped on the robe he handed me, not really sure what to say as I pulled my knees into my chest. This was new for me. Dating. I hadn’t officially dated anyone since my husband died. If you’d ask me three weeks ago, prior to meeting my sexy Englishman, I’d say I was the queen of hookups. Even those had only been in the past couple of years.

It was the perfect answer to my ongoing problem. Burying my secrets in another man’s flesh was easy when you didn’t plan to keep them around. It also took away the constant thoughts of James. I could fuck my way into sweet oblivion and find a small respite from the grief, the pain, the wide open hole where my soul once lived; the soul that died right along with the only man I’ll ever truly love.

Tripp dropped on the bed and spread his arms wide. I snuggled right into the crook of his arm, my head resting on his bare chest. At least he had on pajama pants this time. A naked Tripp hugging me led to groping more often than not. Though I think he’s gotten the hint that he can’t be as familiar with me as he once was. I’m just not in that place anymore.

“This is weird, Bridge.”

I placed my hands over his chest and rested my chin on top. “What is?”

“You, dating. Like, really dating someone.”

Tilting my head to the side I tried to gauge his mood. “Yeah, kind of. What was going on with you last night? You were acting like a jealous boyfriend.” I kissed his chest right above his heart. One of his large hands came up and ruffled the shaggy hair. He needed a trim.

“Truth?” he asked.

“Truth,” I said and nodded, waiting for him to continue. He obviously had something on his mind. He’d been acting strange the last couple weeks, but last night, his anger and irritation with Collier took the cake.

“I’m not sure I’m capable of letting you be with another man.” He threw a hand over his eyes as the words smacked me up the side of the head like a frying pan.

“Tripp, I’m not sure I understand? I’ve been with more men than I’d like to take credit for. You know that.” My best friend looked at me with those sparkling eyes, sorrow and pain etched into deep lines in his normally perfect face. I hugged him tight, trying to put all the love I had for him into that one embrace. “Tell me what’s going on?”

“Bridge.” His voice was dry, cracked, sounding like sandpaper along a prickly wooden surface. “You’re all I have.”

I sat up, tears pooling as understanding dawned bright and clear as a new day. “Tripp Devereaux, I love you more than anyone. No man I’m dating or not dating is ever going to change that.” He gripped my hand and kissed my palm. “Truth!” I let one tear fall. He kissed it away from my cheek.

“Still doesn’t keep me from being afraid. What happens when you finally take that leap? Can you promise you’ll never leave me?”

Tripp’s biggest fear, live and in living color. He lost his whole family when he came out about being bisexual, not that his family was anything to brag about. His mother constantly abused him, mentally and physically, until the day he tried to take his own life. He also had a brother he left to drown in a life filled with sex and drugs. The guilt over leaving his brother in that house was a whole different ball of hell he constantly carried around.

It took all I had not to scream at him that I would never, was never, going to leave him. But I couldn’t say that. James said it to me and he left…forever. “We never know what our future will bring but I do know that wherever I am, whatever I’m doing, you will always be one of the most important people in my life.” I forced him to sit up and I crawled into his lap, hugging him. “You’re my family. No man can take that away from us. If he even tries, he’s not worth my time. Now
that
I promise you!”

We spent long moments just listening to one another breathe, calming the rapid beating of our hearts. Slowly, I tunneled my fingers through his hair.

“You need a trim. You want me to cut it today?” He nodded against my chest. I waited a couple more minutes until he took a deep breath. “You gonna continue to give Collier a hard time?”

The smile that lit his face was priceless. It spoke of everything I loved about my best friend. His boyish charm, his roguish features, his sad eyes. “Yes, yes I am. If he’s got my best girl on his radar, I’m going to rile him every chance I get.”

I slumped into his chest, defeated.

He laughed. “Hey, it’s my job as your heart’s protector to make sure he’s good enough for my girl.”

“You are not my protector.”

“Oh yes I am. Just like you’re always flicking at the little bimbo cling-ons that try to stick to me, I’ll be keeping an eye on Mr. Bond.”

“He really hates that you call him that,” I mused.

Those eyes lit up again. “I know.” He waggled his eyebrows.

***

To: London Kelley

From: Collier Stone

What are you doing right now?

Okay, so I’ve resorted to the wankers way out of calling London. Texting is impersonal but it gets the job done. She can avoid a call or choose not to check her messages. With a text, you know from the little icon that she’s seen it. Several minutes go by and the icon still says “Sent” instead of “Seen.” Curse the blasted thing. Jane comes in to bring me my afternoon tea and biscuits or as the Yanks say, cookies. I figure eventually the American terms will filter into my regular speech but after five years, I’ve not lost my accent, though I definitely find it easier to understand Americans after having lived here for so long.

In the beginning, things I would say would bring down the house. I recall addressing our staff at a Christmas party and I said, “Blow me! You all look terrific this evening.” The entire audience, including each staff member’s plus one, howled with laughter. I didn’t get the joke. In England “blow me” is a common term for being surprised or ‘blown away’ by something. Yanks think it’s an offer of sexual service. Over time, I’ve gotten used to items that put me arse over tit with the Americans and have worked hard to learn more about their culture and colloquialisms.

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