Authors: A. L. Wood
Natalie
Waking up with a start, I look around. I am alone. Of course it would have been a one-time thing. Why or even how could I have ever thought any different? Set on giving him a piece of my mind, I look around for my cell phone. Finding it I send a text to Liam, asking his what floor and room Steele is in. Liam replies in seconds, seems Ryan’s room is right next door. I am not going to let him just walk away from this, what we did. I know it affected him as deeply as it did me.
I
could see the truth in his eyes. He was nervous last night. He owned me with his body.
I take a
fast shower and then get dressed, making myself presentable enough to argue, I’m sure if I didn’t have clothes on we wouldn’t be able to settle this. I leave my room and start knocking on his door. No answer. Are you fucking kidding me? He thinks I will leave if he doesn’t answer. Think again. I resume my pounding, after minutes the door opens.
My mouth drops, blinking repeatedly, when that doesn’t work I pinch myself. This can’t be fucking real. My gut churns, nausea running a weave throughout. My heart erratically thumping in my chest and pain, lacing a needle around it. I
stutter.
“Is Steele here?” the beautiful brunette answers me
.
“Honey, my turn isn’t over wh
y don’t you come back tomorrow?”
Trying to ignore the fact that she is
completely naked, her hair is a fucking mess and her make-up is running. She looks like she was just thoroughly fucked.
By Steele.
I can’t even reply. I storm back to my room, not wanting her to see my uncontrollable tears. Grabbing my cellphone, I pull up a travel search website and book a flight home. To Boston. Grabbing my overnight bag and sitting the hotel room keycard on the nightstand. I run. They can send my other clothes after me, I’m not risking a chance at seeing anyone on the bus. I exit the hotel undiscovered, and luckily there is a cab waiting at the exit. I tell the cab driver to take me to Albany International Airport while throwing him some cash.
Steele
Unable to sleep hours later, my thoughts running wild about this amazingly unpredictable woman cocooned in my arms. Something passed between us tonight. It was more than sex. Much more. I need to digest this. Away from her. Her being around inhibits me from thinking straight.
Slowly unwrapping my arms, trying not to disturb her beautiful sleeping form, I disengage my arm from under her. Covering her with the b
lankets I search for my clothes. Putting them back on and taking one last glance at her I leave her room.
Not wanting to deal with the situation in my room, hoping she took it upon herself to find her way out. I head
downstairs, outside to have a smoke. Your thoughts are better sifted through with a clear unbiased mind. An employee part of hotel personnel security, stops me when they see I am smoking. Pointing me in the direction of where the smoking spot is. Apparently customers prefer non-smoking hotels and the smoking area to be hundreds of feet away from the entrance.
I step up into the round
gazebo that has one commercial ashtray situated in the middle. Fortunately it’s so damn early in the morning no one else is here. No one to recognize who I am. Sitting down on one of the benches I inhale my fix. There is no way I can allow my Minx to be a one-time thing. Last night, I can’t even think of any possible words that could form a coherent sentence to describe what happened between us.
I could write a song about that one mom
ent, where everything changed. I don’t want to settle down, that’s not for me. I also don’t want to let her go, I don’t want to let her ignore what we have. The thought of her running back to Liam, even if it’s just for some semblance of comfort, it makes me sick. God- I am a selfish prick.
Throwing my
cigarette in the ashtray, I decide I can’t wait for this conversation between her and me to happen. I have to wake her up. Waiting will just allow my thoughts to fester and grow. When we checked in, I made sure to get a master key for all of our rooms. Something I did ever since Gages orgy in my room.
Unlocking her door, I see
that the bed is empty. Check the bathroom. Empty too. I sit on the bed. Maybe she went to get something to eat or back to the bus for a change of clothes. After waiting for a half an hour I run down to the parking lot, knowing that’s where she has to be.
Searching the entire tour bus, her shit is still here bu
t she isn’t, I’ll check her room again. She has to be back by now, Stepping into her room it’s the same as it was when I left a few moments earlier. Angered, I just start throwing shit. The TV, the lamps, anything nearby that I can get my hands on. Running my hands through my hair, think, where the fuck could she have gone? I run out of her room and start pounding on Liam’s door. He opens immediately.
“Where the fuck is she?” I yell
while grabbing his throat and pinning him against the wall.
“Who?” H
e yells back.
“Natalie! Where is she? Are you hiding her?” I scream, squeezing his throat harder.
“Calm the fuck down. I haven’t seen her since yesterday. Why are you acting like this?” His breath coming out short.
I know he is te
lling the truth. I would know if he was lying. He’s the worst liar.
I
slowly unlock the hold I have around his neck. Checking my pocket for my phone, I remember I left it in my room. Suddenly I find myself running across the hall, unlocking and opening my door. I don’t even realize Hot Bartender is still here, shoving my clothes around in my overnight bag I find what I am looking for.
A
s I drop my bag, phone in hand and ready to call Natalie. I stole her number from her School transcripts. Leslie speaks, shocking me out of my revelry of finding my phone.
“I didn’t think you were coming back, but I’m pretty happy that you did. I was hoping that Brunette creature didn’t run into you.”
I drop the phone from my hand.
“What!”
Natalie
Running out of the airport, wanting to be home already. The pain that has consumed me since the leftover-lover opened his door, is just too much. For the past five years of my life, my soul has been consumed by copious amounts of pain. I’m tired, exhausted of waking up every morning, only to remember.
No one understands what it is like, walking throughout life a shadow of my former self, my soul having been stolen. My heart in a constant ache, music being my only haven.
That haven, stolen last night. Music notes, lyrics, rhythm, a beat, that’s what passed between us. We wrote a song. Together. Pulling up to my and Layla’s apartment, I see that her car isn’t in the parking lot.
Thanking whomever is out there up above. I could
n’t handle seeing her right now. She would be pissed that I came back. But I am not a fighter. I run away from anything that could get rough. And I just can’t deal anymore. I can’t.
Unlocking
our apartment door, I frantically run into Layla’s room, into her bathroom. Knowing that she has a prescription bottle of the opiate Oxycodone, desperate for this pain to be gone.
I find what I am looking for. P
ushing down on the safety lock I turn the cap, dump a handful in my hand and place the bottle back in her medicine cabinet. One hand full of pills I turn the faucet on, closing my eyes I say a prayer. God just please, please take it away. This pain it’s just too much. Take it all away. Forgive me. I cup my hand under the water, tossing the pills down my throat and swallowing them with a gulp of water.
I run into my room and grab a note boo
k. I have to write Layla a note so she can somehow find a way to move on. So she can live her life guilt free. She has always been a fighter. My fighter as well. She shouldn’t have to be one for me though. Knowing I won’t have long before the medicine works its way into my bloodstream, I begin writing with a shaky hand.
Dear Layla,
You will never know how much I love you and for that I am sorry. I am sorry I’ve done this but I didn’t have a choice. I’m just sick Lal. I just can’t do this anymore. I’m so tired of hurting, I’ve made it so long with this ache and it’s become too unbearable. I don’t want you to hurt. This isn’t your fault or anything you could have prevented. I just need to do this. I will see you again, I promise. I love you. Forever.
Nat
Sitting the notebook on my nightstand, my eye lids start getting he
avy, my breathing shallow and my body slowly starts becoming lethargic. Pulling the picture of my parents out of my pocket, I lay down on my bed and hug the photo to my chest. So very comfortable. I keep my eyes closed and drift off to sleep…
“Are you at all haunted by memories past? Are you ready to make this one breathe your last? Is your chest so heavy you’re ready to leave? Or are you just hoping that someone will grieve?”
-
The Amity Affliction
To Be Continued….
About the Author
A.L. Wood resides in Upstate, NY with her husband and daughter. When she’s not reading love stories she’s writing them. You can connect with A.L. Wood online, she’s always around and willing to blab.
Special thanks to Madelene Martin for designing this
cover and Genevieve Scholl for formatting.
Also an extra special thanks to CL Champlain, I am very grateful for you help.
Thank you to all of the amazing Book Friends for introducing me into this online community. If I forget your name I am sorry.
Pamela, Jodi, Andrea, Stephanie, Nikki, Heather, Tammy, Samantha and Tiffany.
Butterflies, Books & Dreams I Love You.