Summer Storm (Broken Circles Book 1), page 12
“Fifteen years. I thought it’d be different. More frantic, maybe?” All in. I’d said it, I couldn’t backtrack, so I had to be honest.
“It wasn’t good?” She frowned, and I kicked myself for putting doubts in her head. I didn’t want her thinking there had been anything disappointing about what we’d done, the sex had been incredible.
“Perfect, Jolie. Perfect.”
She relaxed back against the bed, scrunching up her button nose I found too cute. “Seriously? Fifteen years?”
“Mmhhmm.” Was all I said, not wanting to get into the specifics. I’d tell her one day, even if it meant spilling a closet full of skeletons I wasn’t sure she’d understand or accept. But yeah… there would be another day, after the last hour, I was sure of it.
“Jesus Christ.” Jolie shoved hard, pushing me off her. I hardly resisted, my body jellified and blissed out, watching as she got out of bed and marched off into the connecting bathroom.
Stripping the condom off, I tied the end and threw it into the bucket, making a mental note to flush it later. Laying back on the bed, I stretched out my fatigued limbs and listened to the shower turning on in the other room, the sound of running water hypnotic. Jolie took a long time, and I let her have it, despite being eager to get to round two if she was up for it.
When she came back into the room, she wouldn’t look at me, not even a side glance. She hurried to pick up her discarded clothes, the way she yanked on her jeans finally drawing the realisation that she was attempting to leave, and I’d somehow missed the abrupt change in atmosphere.
Sitting up, I pulled the covers over my exposed lap. “You’re leaving?”
“Ah, yeah,” she said, tugging her tank top over her head and stuffing her bra into her bag.
“Why?”
“I need to get home.”
“I’ll drive you.” I didn’t want to drive her anywhere, I wanted her to stay but the vibe she was giving off was positively chilly, her mood no longer buoyant like it had been twenty minutes earlier. Reluctantly, I moved to the side of the bed, thoroughly confused but keenly aware she’d already decided she was leaving.
“No.” It wasn’t quite a yell, her voice an octave higher than usual, not sounding like the woman I’d made gasp and moan in bed before. What the hell was I missing?
I watched in a stupor as she put her feet into her trainers, careful to keep her distance. By the time I stood up to get dressed, she was grabbing for her bag and heading toward the door.
“Jolie.”
“I’m sorry.” With her hand on the door, she looked down at her feet, repeating the apology, then left without so much as the briefest of glances back.
Rushing to dress, I had no idea what to do. Did I chase her? Let her go? What the hell had happened?
Slumping down into the chair, I rubbed the grit from my eyes, suddenly exhausted. Searching around for my phone, I remembered it was still in my pocket, I’d only pulled out my wallet. Utterly bewildered, I powered on the phone, ignoring the umpteen texts and missed calls from Irina, and called Sandir.
Taking a while to answer, I searched for the time and groaned. Before I could hang up, my best friend’s voice rumbled down the line.
“This better be good. I need my goddamn beauty sleep.”
“Apologies, friend.”
“You all right, Yan?” Sandir asked, an edge to his voice. I wasn’t renowned for making early morning calls.
I was being a pussy bitch. A woman had walked out on me after sex. So fucking what? It was nothing to cry to my best friend about. “Yeah. Sorry, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
“Oh, no. Wait now. Spit it the fuck out, you wouldn’t be calling me over nothing, Yan.”
“I slept with her.”
Sandir remained quiet, then asked. “Who?” Chewing on my lip, I grimaced when I told him. “You silly fucker,” was his prompt reply.
“Yeah.” Because Jolie was more than a hole to shove my dick in. Anyone with two eyes and an ounce of common sense could see Jolie for the diamond she was, and I’d went and royally fucked it all up by jumping straight into bed with her at the first opportunity I’d had.
“Where you at?” He wouldn’t ask for any other details because that wasn’t his way.
“Kensington.”
He sighed. “She took off afterwards?”
“Yup, took a shower, dressed, then walked right on out the door.”
Sandir burst out laughing, the prick. If he’d been in front of me, I would have put his lights out, friend or not. “Well, fuck, Yan. That’s a new one for you, mate.”
Taking a minute to answer because I was spitting with annoyance at him, I eventually told him, “She’s different.”
“You’re just figuring this out now? She is, and there’s the problem. Bunny doesn’t live in the same ugly world we do. Maybe it’s better she walked away, for her sake. And hey, at least you know your cock still knows how to fuck.”
I stuttered a bitter laugh. “It’s not like I didn’t use it, you bloody idiot.”
“Welcome back to the world of pussy, congratulations on getting fucked, mate. Now get off my bloody phone, I want another couple of hours before I have to bow down to my Lord, and you come punch me.”
“Funny.” I rolled my eyes, secretly thankful for the manner in which he took me in hand. Nobody else could piss me off, then make me laugh a breath later the way Sandir could. “Sorry to wake you.”
“Yan.” Seriousness flooded back into his tone. “I’m going to bitch you out, same as you would me, but anytime you need to call, I’m gonna pick up. Always.”
“Same. Night, Sandy.”
Fuck, I was going soft, right? I couldn’t let others see it though, that would be a certifiably crazy thing to do, people with fewer scruples would take advantage. An early grave was not appealing, not now, not ever. I wanted another thirty plus years on this earth at least, Lev’s organisation was not the sum of who I was, Irina was not the woman of my dreams. There was more to life than them. Change was coming. It was probably better Jolie had walked. I wouldn’t forget her in a hurry, she’d be the beacon I strived for when things got too tough, even if I couldn’t be a part of her life like I wanted to be.
Collecting up my jacket, phone and wallet, I took one last look around the room, smiling sadly, then left the hotel walking out into the quiet night air.
Jolie
What had I been thinking?
Doing something I’d never done in my life left me a little discombobulated. I’d slept with a stranger. A man who looked terrible and beautiful all at the same time, yet still a stranger. His untimely confession had freaked me out. Getting away from Yannick was the only thing to cross my mind when those words idly spilled from his mouth like they should not have affected what we’d just shared. The only place I could think to go was the bathroom, into the shower, and it was there that my head went to hell.
I’d wanted him, of course I had, something for me, even if it had meant nothing to him. In the harsh aftermath, being a notch on someone’s belt, a means to get back in the game, didn’t really feel so delightful, and that’s where I’d faltered. I’d needed an escape - the bathroom the only place to hide.
Now, under the shower, my confidence had taken a hit, and I was licking my wounds. I didn’t want to wash the smell of Yannick from my skin, erase the memory so easily, yet I could do nothing else. This wasn’t me, nor was it the way I lived my life. Washing down, a tear slipped from the corner of my eye as I thought about how foolish I’d acted, how I’d thrown myself at a man I didn’t know, and now, I couldn’t get out of there quick enough.
It was too difficult to hold a conversation, to explain myself, as I quickly dressed while Yannick lay on the bed looking sinful and with not a clue. It was time to leave, so leave I did without so much as an explanation, hurrying from the hotel with my head down, embarrassed.
Thankfully, my Tube routes from the hotel in Kensington were on the night schedule, running early Sunday mornings, and were quiet. I could have used my tips and cabbed it home, but I wanted to travel the city for a while before I walked back into the nightmare of my own four walls. The few other people I shared the carriage with, reminded me we all had our own lives to live and we really never knew what our neighbour’s story was. I could have had it worse, of that I was fundamentally aware, but it didn’t make my personal circumstances any easier to swallow.
Half an hour of travelling and lamenting over the mistake I’d just made, with my boss of all people, and I was more than ready to collapse into bed. I trudged the many flights of stairs and paused at the front door, with my key in hand, resting my head against the scuffed wood. A minute to gather my resolve, that’s all, then I slipped the keys into the lock and entered my hell.
Something was off. The second I closed the door behind me, I knew. A subtle smell I didn’t recognise tainted the hallway, the light still burning in the living room. I hadn’t thought to search the windows from the street below to see if she was still up.
“Mum?” I called, inching up the hallway, my hand trailing along the wall, steps soft on the carpet underfoot. Into the living room I went, stopping in the middle of the room, hand flying to my mouth as I gagged. Dropping the bag from my shoulder, I sank to my knees and let out a pitiful cry.
“No.” Peering at the recliner, my eyes were not playing tricks on me. “Please, God. No.”
But yes. There was no mistaking the corpse of my mother who sat in the chair in the corner, thick globs of sick down the front of her chin and chest. Her skin was a sickly pale yellow-grey colour, her mouth hanging open, eyes thankfully closed. Had she choked on her own vomit? Christ. My stomach rebelled a second later, and I leaned to the side, bile splashing onto the carpet next to me. Five minutes or more, I stayed bent over not daring to look up until I was finished expelling what little I had in my stomach. Weak and trembling, I slashed my hand across my mouth, then wiped my chin with the bottom of my tank top. Blindly searching around for my bag, I emptied it out and snatched up my phone.
I stayed on that floor, never taking my eyes from my mother, only moving when I heard the loud knock at the front door, the ambulance service waiting for entry. I didn’t know why they’d come, I’d said so on the phone, it wasn’t like they could save her life; she was most definitely dead. There was no bringing her back, she’d finally had her last drink, and it had done nothing but put her in an early grave.
A paramedic took me by the elbow and gently nudged me into the kitchen. “You all right, love? Is there anyone we can call for you? Family?”
Shaking my head, I wracked my brains thinking who I should or could call. It was just me and her, an unlikely couple who despised each other, there was no one to care, no one else. Now it was just me, and her dead body in the room next door. Too much to process. The last twenty-four hours crashed in on me suddenly and I burst into tears, the paramedic gently wrapping her arms around my shoulders. She kindly let me hold on to her until I got a grip on myself and was able to temper my emotion enough to deal with the situation.
“It’s always a shock,” she murmured. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
A stranger was showing me more kindness than my mother had in years, and there I was, crying for her, tears falling rapidly for a woman who had been a lost cause for as long as I could remember.
“You need to call someone, anyone.”
I ended up calling Carol and apologising profusely for disturbing her. She wouldn’t hear of it, asking if I wanted to go to her place, which was how I ended up at Carol’s at seven thirty on a Sunday morning, the policeman who’d attended with the ambulance service kind enough to take me there. Protocol, he’d said. I didn’t know and didn’t care as long as I was away from the flat. Away from my mother’s dead body. She’d been an alcoholic, and whilst she may not have drunk herself to death, she’d certainly succumbed to the effects. As her daughter, I’d failed her, staying there just hurt too much.
Carol handed me a glass with neat vodka in the bottom. “Drink,” she pointed.
Without hesitation, I did so, hardly feeling the usual burn that accompanied straight spirits. I was truly numb. Inside and out.
“Take a breath, Jolie.” Carol was sympathetic, composed, and knew exactly what I needed. I tried to apologise again, she waved it off. “You’re in shock, it’s expected. I don’t mind you calling me either, so stop fretting about it. We’re friends, Jolie, this is what friends do for each other.”
She made me shower, then eat, then dragged me into her bedroom to put me into her bed, returning a few minutes later with a bottle of Lucozade.
“I’m going to get in with you for a bit, give you a cuddle.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“You just need a little comfort for now, babe. You’ll feel better after some kip.”
Whether or not true, I didn’t really care, all I wanted was the blissful oblivion of sleep. So, when Carol wrapped her arms around me, I hummed quietly into her chest, then sobbed myself into a wretched sleep.
* * * * *
Between Carol, her fantastic boyfriend, and me, we sorted out the next few days of my life. The agency I worked for cancelled the week’s school contracts, and Carol called Bill to tell him I wouldn’t be in for my weekend shifts. Work was the last thing on my mind, and I ended up moping around Carol’s flat bursting into tears at inappropriate moments, guilt burning through me at having left mum on her own, knowing she was sick. No amount of talking from Carol made me feel any better, or less emotional, or over-exposed. Nothing had ever hurt like this, even the detrimental way the relationship with my mother had worked. Those hurtful words and spiteful comments dissolved for the moment, waiting for an inopportune time to rear their ugly head I was sure. I would never be free from the haunting disaster of what I’d lived, of what I’d walked in on, and I bet Julie Summers was laughing her head off about that. I’d never been enough and the manner in which she’d died was all the proof I needed to know I’d been a failure, it would take some time before I would feel any different.
On Monday, Carol took the day off work, her boyfriend disappearing while we made arrangements for the funeral, Carol guiding me in what I needed to do.
“You’ve done this before?” I asked after hanging up with the funeral director.
“Yes. My parents.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Was a while ago now, they didn’t suffer.” Carol didn’t elaborate, I didn’t ask, understanding our experiences with death were very singular and personal things. “You want me to go get some things from your flat? We’d like you to stay here until you’re ready to go back.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t. It was an offer, Jolie.”
I didn’t know if I ever would be ready, staying with Carol was breathing space to get through the next few days and figure out a plan for going forward.
“Fred and I will come to the cremation with you. Who else do you need to call?”
“No one. There isn’t anyone, how sad is that?” I wiped away a tear. “I’ll put an obituary in the local paper. There might be some old friends who want to pay their respects.” I briefly considered Jared, then tossed the thought away, the man could go fuck himself. He’d know anyway, it had been daylight when they’d wheeled mum out of the flat in a black body bag.
“Her affairs in order?”
“Fuck, I don’t think she had any. I did the bills and shit, you know. She couldn’t grasp anything, always drunk as a skunk.”
“That’s really sad, Jolie.”
It was, really was. No savings, no will, no possessions, nothing. If she’d had anything worth money, it had been sold to feed her addiction long ago. She’d kept her wedding ring, which always surprised me as her bitterness over her marriage had been clear and a tool used to beat me down. Years ago, she’d stopped giving a shit about every aspect of her life, including me.
“What about your dad?”
“He left us. I doubt he wants a trip down memory lane. They got divorced a long time back and I’ve never seen him since, I wouldn’t know the first place to start looking for him.”
“So, he’s not important?”
“No, I guess not.”
“Okay. Thank you for calling me, you don’t have to go through this on your own. Fred’s a good man and doesn’t mind you being here either, so don’t feel you need to leave.”
I smiled, the first genuine one in what felt like forever. “Marrying material?”
“Absolutely,” she nodded, her eyes glinting. “Next year or two, the idiot has to propose first.”
He would. I had eyes in my head, they may have been clouded with grief, but I could see clear as day Fred was totally in love with Carol, he wore his heart on his sleeve for her.
“I was in a hotel room with Yannick Ischmov. It’s why I didn’t go straight home.”
Carol clamped her jaw tight before speaking sternly. “Don’t do that, Jolie. Please, this isn’t your fault.”
“I was letting a guy fuck me while she was chocking to death. It’s my fault. I should have been at home.”
“Oh, boy.” Carol swore under her breath. “Not. Your. Fault.” She’d heard enough to know the relationship with my mother had been toxic. She’d held my hand and refused to cast judgement when I’d lamented about not having done enough to help her, about the fruitless doctor’s appointment which had left me few options.
Carol gave friendly advice, but I wasn’t up to heeding it right then. Maybe when I wasn’t so raw, I’d look at it differently. Right now, I missed a woman I probably shouldn’t have, and I had no idea how to reconcile those conflicting emotions. At least it kept the memory of Yannick Ischmov at bay, and that was the only thing I could be thankful for.
Yannick
“Look what the cat dragged in.” Irina sauntered into the kitchen, done up to the nines at seven on a Sunday morning. I’d just poured a stiff drink and sat down with the iPad to sort through the following week’s appointments, wondering why the hell I’d come back to this house instead of going to Sandir’s.
