Like a Wildfire, page 10
[Father’s voice in his head] Yer a bastard child. No son of mine. Ye may look like me, but I dinnae make weak, broken children. That’s what ye are, Patrick. Broken. Ye will never amount to nothin’. No son of mine will be a worthless piece of shite like ye. Ohh, are we cryin’ now? Only wee bairns cry. Ye ken what happens when ye cry. Undress and turn around – yer gonna take this beating and become a man.
[Slowly contemplating] My father was right. I am broken. Weak. Worthless. I only learned how to mask the pain. A true man would’ve fought back. I just took it – lashing after lashing, sometimes he’d turn the belt around so the metal buckle would stick into my back and make me bleed. And still I would’ne be a man. A weak man will forever be trampled and mocked. I guess that’s all I’ll ever be. Powerless.
The man who brought me into the shop wrapped a towel around my shoulders then sat me in a chair. His fingers snapped near my face, but I dinnae flinch.
[Marcus, *snapping*] “Hey, chap. Can you hear me?”
[English male 2] “Should we call for an ambulance?”
[Patrick panic] “No. Please, no!” I began to hyperventilate – I ran from my maw and now the police will put me in a cell because I dinnae follow orders. I’m royally fucked. This cannae happen. I cannae go to prison. “Don’t call! Please, don’t call!” I start mumbling to myself.
[English male 2] “Is he having an episode or something? I can’t understand what he’s saying. This kid’s a total nutter!”
[Marcus] “No, ya tosser, it’s a panic attack. Get the fuck outta here, will ya? You’re not helping the boy.” The man comes back into focus, eye-level with me. “Work through it, mate. Deep breaths. I assure you… no one is calling. Can you tell me your name?”
[Patrick upset and rushed] “I need to tell Lili I’m sorry. She’s hurt because of me. I let it happen. She could’ve died. I dinnae save her.”
There is nothing I can do or say to make things better for her. I will forever blame myself for what she’s been through – and I shall take it with me to my grave.
[Marcus soothing] “We will find her, mate. Just calm down. Breathe slowly. Can you do that for me?”
[Patrick delirious] “It’s all my fault – all my fault – all my fucking fault. [cry] She will never forgive me.”
It’s then the proverbial knife jabs itself deeper and I’m unable to draw breath. I’m choking. Lili’s pained expression is all consuming as the claws of darkness wrap me in its jagged blanket.
Fer the first time ever, the warmth and pain of its embrace feels welcoming. My vision wavers as the grip on reality slips away and I submit to the black void.
Forgive me Lili.
CHAPTER 10 – PATRICK
_ SORROW NO MORE _
_ PRESENT DAY _
My darkness is awakening inside me, shadowing the enjoyable evening I’ve spent with August. We had a great night together, so, why am I feeling this way? See – this is why I do not give into my pleasure. I lose focus on my work, my mates, my family. The things that keep me secure. I broke my routine and now I’m paying fer it. To top it off, I asked August to stay the night – I mean, our second time around felt incredible, but I never ask a person to stay over. Fucking great. Now it will be an awkward morning for sure.
I slipped outta bed after an hour of watching August sleep peacefully beside me. I cannae risk it, unwilling to sleep with him out of fear I’ll slip into a night terror and scare the shit out of him. I can go one night without sleep, then I’ll send him off in the morning and sleep the day away.
At midnight I’m sat at the kitchen island working on the endless pub paperwork stacked in a neat pile. I quickly found I could’ne concentrate on the papers in front of me, instead the gut-wrenching memory of Lili’s tragedy rushed to the surface. Even after all these years, the anxiety, fear, and regrets stab and slice, their way of making sure I will never forget.
I wake every day and see the reminders on my body – every scar, every burn, every broken bone, now covered in ink except fer the scar on my forehead. It’s why I wear a hat most times, or have my hair long enough to cover it. The marks are still there, the painful memories with it. They will always be there, but now they’re hidden – no one can see them – but if they’re close enough, they can feel them. August touched my body, touched my scars; he dinnae have’ta ask it, but I could tell he wanted to learn about them. And now I’m trying anything to block out the past.
The cloud of dismal thoughts and what-if’s bombard me from time to time, but I would learn of ways to soothe the beasts to sleep. After my days of recovery with Marcus, I grew stronger, the self-wallowing a distant thought. Once Lili was allowed visitors, I vowed to never give up on her; we made it through her suicide attempt, her unwillingness to eat, and her constant fear Isaac would come back. She would’ne sleep unless Gran or I held her, and even then her demons came crawling into her dreams warping them into nightmares. My mates cries hurt my soul and I vowed I’d never allow harm to come to her again. Now she has Alexander, a Marine, a guard, her soulmate. She will always be protected wherever she be.
I never told anyone where I ran off to the day Lili ended up in hospital; the police were so wrapped up in Lili’s investigation, they dinnae have time to search fer a troubled fifteen-year-old. I made it home after four days of clearing my head and learned about the arrest of Isaac Anderson, my name completely cleared of any involvement.
The news eventually came out how Guinevere constructed this elaborate story to investigators about my relationship with Lili, she planted the fag packet in my bag when I went with Gran fer sweets, she lied, she manipulated, she went so far as to slowly poison the man in her home, she allowed her daughter to go through years of torment, all fer her own satisfaction. I will never forgive her for what she has done.
Marcus Graves, now in his early forties and owner of Graves Ink, he is the man who saved me from one of the worst days of my life – I owe him everything. I would’ne be here today if it was’ne fer his patience and guidance. I have the utmost respect fer Marcus and, once I turned sixteen I became part of his crew at the shop, cleaning mostly, but it felt right. I had a purpose, goals, and aspirations. He taught me how to defend myself and praised me fer a job well done. He’s the father figure I always dreamt about, he’s someone I can confide in, and who I feel safe with; a man my real father could never be.
Unable to focus on the papers before me, I shuffle though my options of what to do. I could take a walk to clear my head. No. I dinnae want to leave August here alone. Should I call Lili and vent to her? No. She’s more than likely back home in the arms of her husband, and I’d rather not interrupt their plans. Maw is on holiday visiting close family in Lochranza and is deciding whether to stay there. Life is far simpler on the Isle of Arran compared to London, and the whisky there is grand.
With no other close mates, I decide to text Marcus. It’s then I remember he’s in Vegas right now at a tattoo convention and will not be back fer another ten days. I’d rather we talk in person. [sigh] This will have to do fer now. As I send the text I repetitively clench my fist then flex my fingers, something I do that helps me focus.
Me – The backpiece is healing well.
Marcus’s response comes after only two minutes.
Marcus – Ace. When are you next free to add to it?
Me – I need yer earliest opening.
My mobile chimes with a call seconds later, Marcus’s name flashing on the screen. He read into my message like I knew he would. I connect the call and hear the soothing hum in the background of multiple tattoo machines around him.
[Marcus] “Rough night?” He asks in his raspy voice thanks to all the smoking he did in his early years. I dinnae answer, I dinnae have’ta. He knows what I’m dealing with. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing like he will tell me to. “Deep breaths, mate. However long you need.”
We sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound coming from the tattoo machines acting as white noise. There is something about the incessant buzzing noise that allows me to clear my mind and suppress the darkness. Most times it works, sometimes it takes longer. Seems I caught it early enough tonight. I release a heavy sigh and open my eyes.
[Marcus] “Feeling better?”
[Patrick] “A bit.” I confirm with a roll of my shoulders. The sounds and conversations become muffled then quiet altogether as Marcus steps into a quiet area.
[Marcus] “You’ve been good for some time now. You want to relay what might’ve caused the trigger?” That’s Marcus, the ‘tell it like it is’ type. He dinnae like it when people beat around the bush. Best to just get it out and tell him.
[Patrick] “Lili made me spend the day with her. We went to a nightclub.” I’m not one to venture out, but I can never say no to my mate.
[Marcus] “Oh – That’s bit of a shock to your system.” With my extended silence he can tell there is more to it.
[Patrick] “Lili played wing-woman and set me up.” He starts to chuckle.
[Marcus] “Did she now? I love that fiery lass. I bet she picked ya a good one, eh? Is he handsome?” I smile to myself and somehow Marcus can tell. “Ahh. She did. Is he an American?”
[Patrick] “How do ye –” realization struck. “She told ye? Dinnae she? That little minx!” By the way he’s laughing, I’d say Lili has been a busy bee. She is so cheeky and will be hearing from me about this. His laughter calms then his demeanor shifts to something more serious.
[Marcus] “I have a client arriving in a few and still have to prep. Do me a favor, will ya? Have fun. Your mind needs a break, mate. Take some time off. Go herd sheep or whatever shit it is you do – and no, this isn’t Lili telling me about how many hours you’ve put in the last month, this is me seeing how beat down you were at your last session.”
[Patrick] “But it’s –
[Marcus] “Take a holiday, son.” He interrupts my excuses. “You’ll feel better and you can tell me all about it at your next session.” Marcus pauses and listens to an announcement. “That’s my session number. Think about what I said. I’m here when you need me.”
[Patrick] “Thanks Marcus.” The call disconnects and I notice Lili sent a text during my call with Marcus. After a minute of contemplating I open it.
Lili – Thanks fer comin’ out tonight.
My response to her is simple, yet she will discern my meaning and take it to the next level. She always does.
Me – I had fun. It’s not a lie. I have to say it felt good to get out. Lili’s response is speedy.
Lili – I knew ye’d hit it off. The two of ye on that dance floor. Full swoon.
Lili – Was it good? *evil face emoji*
My first instinct was to curse her out and bid her goodnight, but instead I gave her an honest answer.
Me – Aye. He’s still here.
I can hear Lili screaming as she reads that text. [sigh] I’m never going to hear the end of this.
Lili – What are ye texting me fer? Coorie [kuri] up that man. Go!
I chuckle at her demands then glance at the door to my bedroom where August lay asleep. Coorie means to snuggle, but we also use it fer describing a warm inviting place, or people and family; it’s the things ye like to be around most that make ye feel cozy.
It’s fer one night, right? I cannae form any true feelings fer a man I just met. Right? I cannae deny, August is attractive, and I do enjoy his company – and his body. But he isn’e staying here. It will never work. Or could we make it work? Doubtful.
Me – Coorie up, to Zander, he needs some fun time with his woman.
Lili – We’ve been. Oh, and Shark’s duckie toy – 1000% recommend. Zander loves it. Perfect suction - everywhere.
What the bloody hell did I just read?
Me – TMI, lass. I’m out. Luv ya, mate *kiss emojis*
Lili – * Ten laugh emojis*
Lili – Luv ya, too, mate *kiss emojis*
My mate is exceptional and can read me like a book. Her offer to watch my pub is beginning to sound grand, and the thought of spending more time with the man in my bedroom doesn’t give me anxiety. It excites me. I will ask him tomorrow what his plans are in Edinburgh and see if he would’ne mind including me in his adventures.
I hear Scotland calling, and I must go.
Leaving everything on the counter I make my way to my room, slide in behind August, and wrap an arm around his waist. He turns to face me, the light from the street outside revealing his sleepy smile.
[August sleepily] “Hey stud. Glad you’re back.” Why does my heart skip when I hear him call me that? My body relaxes as his lips brush mine, the gentle touch sending goose pimples across my body. The desire for soft contact is foreign to me, but with August, the more he does it, the more I find I enjoy it.
I close my eyes and relish in the comfort he elicits, his arms around my body a sensation I dinnae consider I would want, but found I needed in the moment. Fer the first time in a long while, my beasts are subdued, and I find sleep without the nightmares.
CHAPTER 11 - AUGUST
_ MONDAY _
_ Gran is cheeky _
I wake curled around a warm, hard body; the untamed stallion I went home with last night. Patrick is still asleep beside me as gray morning light gently filters through the curtains. It’s a rare sight to see him so at ease, his usual grumpy demeanor is replaced by the tranquility of sleep. His brow, usually lined with frustration or deep thought, is smooth, and his lips, often set in a scowl, are relaxed in a way that made him look almost boyish.
My eyes trace the line of his jaw, down to the strong curve of his neck, where a few wisps of coppery hair have fallen out of his beanie. I wonder why he hides his hair from the world? He’s so different from the stubborn man I observed at his pub, or even from the vulnerable man I danced with at Neon Envy just a few hours ago. Seeing him like this, so calm, so unguarded, has my chest tightening with emotions I’m not entirely ready to name.
Memories of last night rush back with an intensity that has my skin tingling and pulse pounding. The sight of the hardy man in his kilt, standing near the entrance of the club, his eyes scanning the crowd until they land on me. That stubborn glare he gave me as I approached him, only after the gaggle of drunk women made their way passed me, I knew then he couldn’t mask his jealous side. It found it rather adorable. His grumpy protests and apprehension as Lili and I pulled him to the dance floor, only to watch him come alive as we moved to the beat of the music. It was fuckin’ stunning.
We danced, we kissed – God damn, the way he kissed me lit me up like nothing I’ve ever experienced. Then back at his home, we became a tangle of tongues and limbs, his hands roaming my body with power and urgency, our gasps and growls stoking our lust, and setting my heart ablaze.
You might say I’ve fallen hard for a guy I just met.
Holding him in my arms, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest under me, hearing his light snore, I’m lost in the best dream and never want it to end. The thought of returning to Wyoming, getting back to my life on the ranch and not having Patrick there in my bed or my home every night, just the thought of it feels like there is a one-ton brick pressing down on me. I know this was supposed to be one night between us, but my heart begs for more – more nights like this, more mornings waking up to this exact sight.
Lili’s words from the other day at Tally’s echo in my mind. She mentioned Patrick needs to get out more, to have fun, to experience life beyond the walls of his pub. She’s right. I want to be the one to show him that world, to experience new adventures with him. I wonder if I could convince him to tag along with me to Scotland? I’d love to view the beauty of Scotland through his eyes, to meet his uncle and work on his farm, and just have fun. That’s what this trip is all about.
I gently brush away a stray strand of hair from his forehead, feeling a rush of affection as he stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. This man, with his stubbornness and his gruff exterior, he somehow found a way into my heart. We never established rules to our tryst, the silent understanding that this night was all we would have, however I’m not ready to let him go. I will get on my knees and beg him if I must.
[August] “Patrick,” I whisper, my voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. He sighs a breath and hums lightly. “Come to Scotland with me.”
He murmurs incoherently in his sleep making me chuckle. Maybe it’s best if I ask him once he’s fully lucid, or better yet, I’ll offer to buy him breakfast first.
Patrick stirs after a few minutes, blinking until his gaze settles on me. I see the moment he registers where he is and who he’s with, a slow sleepy smile spreading across his face.
[August] "Mornin’ stud." I whisper, my heart skipping at the sight of his light blue eyes. “Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.”
[Patrick annoyed] “Ugh. How are ye this lively so early in the morning?” He flips his pillow over his head and growls at me.
[August] “It’s a gift. Always been this way.” I proudly state. He is not a morning person whatsoever. “Honestly, I’m surprised I slept in this late. I’m usually up before the sun.” I grin to myself. “Then again, you had me up pretty late last night.” My tone turns wanting. “If there were ever a contest for sucking cock, you sir, would win. Hands down.” He moves the pillow away from his face. [teasing] “Ahh, there’s that smile. What a sight.”
[Patrick] “Fuck off.” His comeback lacks hostility, and I’m glad I researched some of the Scottish lingo. It takes a bit gettin’ used to.
[Patrick] “Morning cowboy." He says after a minute, his fingers lightly brushing my arm. "I like that yer still here."
[August] "There’s nowhere else I’d rather be." I surprise him with a kiss, and it’s slow and unhurried, what a proper morning kiss should be.
When he pulls back, I see the remnants of a smile lingering there.
[Patrick] “Do ye have’ta get goin’? Or can ye stay the day?” He’s still trying to shake off sleep, but I like that he doesn’t want this to end just yet. I sigh and roll to my back and stare up at the ceiling, playing this off to get him guessing.
