Killing Me Softly, page 25
His face was only centimetres from hers; his scent surrounded her with warm familiarity, his breath an intimate caress. She felt a flood of weakness sweep over her, willing her to give in to his magnetic pull and lose herself in him as she’d done last night and again this morning. It would be so easy to give in to his persuasive voice. She swayed towards him, her lips almost touching his in ultimate surrender. Instead, with a groan she moved away.
He’d just said he loved her. Why did his saying he loved her in that moment hurt so much?
She stepped back, shaking her head. ‘No. I can’t think about this now.’
‘Are you saying it’s over between us before it’s even begun?’
She turned away as her face crumpled with the force of emotion she was desperately trying to hold back. She couldn’t talk.
Behind her, she heard Daemon step closer. She tensed. ‘Please. Just leave me alone.’ She was afraid he’d touch her again. If he did, she knew she’d crumble into a thousand broken pieces on the floor.
‘Don’t do this, Alexia.’
She didn’t answer him. Couldn’t.
She heard him turn, leave. She didn’t stop him.
A moment later, she heard the front door slam; the finality of that sound was like a barrier between them, one she didn’t know she could ever breach.
Tears spilling down her face, blinded, she walked through the house. She needed to get outside.
She stumbled down the back stairs, filling her lungs with the clean country air. The smells of the farm, the ordered comfort of it, usually warm and familiar, did nothing to help calm her troubled mind.
Without thinking, she headed to the stables. She needed to ride, needed to feel the wind through her hair and the cold on her face as she galloped across the fields and away from the worry and doubts that had taken up residence in her house. It was cloaked with those negative feelings now; she could feel them like a menace at her back. The house had once been a sanctuary, as had the studio. Now both brought back memories, conjuring feelings she didn’t want to face.
What could she say to Daemon, to Cat? They had both said things, done things that hurt her and now wished they could take them back. In her heart, she understood their reasons and was prepared to forgive them. But why should she once again shoulder all the blame and guilt? Some of what had happened was her fault, she knew, but surely not all of it?
The questions seemed unanswerable. Her emotions swirled around, confusing her thoughts. A ride would clear her mind, put everything into perspective. Then she might be able to go back, make amends with Cat. And when Daemon came to talk to her again, maybe she could listen to what he had to say. Although, she wasn’t sure if she could ever forgive him.
He’d told her he loved her.
He’d almost shouted it at her.
Just after he’d told her he’d betrayed her trust.
How could she believe him? And why did she so suddenly want it to be true? They couldn’t be together. Not in a forever sense. Lovers was all they could be and now he had ruined that with his lies.
How could telling her he loved her make any difference?
Yet it did, and she was afraid she knew the reason why. Because he mattered. Because she loved him, too. And that made his betrayal hurt even more.
Anger started to rise in her. She scrubbed at the tears on her face.
No! She wouldn’t let him do this to her. Wouldn’t let him pull her in, make her feel more, want more, than she was comfortable with.
She didn’t love him. She didn’t choose to. She had fought to make choices all her life and she hadn’t chosen this.
She would go for a ride. She would calm down. And then she would go back and tell him it was over. They could work together – maybe, if she could forgive him for going behind her back – but she would not make love with him again. And she most definitely wouldn’t give him her love.
Firming her jaw, she wiped the last of the tears from her face and walked into the stable.
It was quiet inside, the sounds of the farm muffled. Lexi breathed in the scent of hay, manure, chaff and the special warm, dusty smell of the horses. The stalls were mostly empty as the majority of the horses were out working or in the field frolicking in the late afternoon sun. A horse whickered from one of the stalls and Lexi smiled, collecting a saddle, blanket and bridle from the rack as she passed.
Viking stood in his stall, tall and proud, eyeing her as she entered, her hand extended with the carrot and apple she’d picked out of the food bin. Viking whiffled softly, his warm breath tickling her hair as he nuzzled her cheek affectionately before lowering his head to accept the proffered treats. The feel of his soft, silky lips against her skin made her laugh and she stroked the white blaze running down his caramel face as she whispered in his ear.
‘Life’s so simple for you, isn’t it?’ He whinnied, sniffing her hand for more. ‘You want to go for a run, boy?’ She laughed again as he pushed against her shoulder, taking the gesture as an affirmative. Picking up the curry comb from the shelf in the corner, she gave him a quick brush-down, then saddled up. The home pasture was long and wide and she kicked Viking up, giving him his head as she felt him gathering under her and stretching out into a full gallop.
The air was electric with the coming storm, clouds lowering over the grey spikes of the mountains in the distance. She knew Karl would be concerned she was out here, but she didn’t care.
The power of the animal beneath her, the wind whipping her face and hair, the wildness of the wide-open space were exhilarating. For this moment, time held no meaning. The rhythm of hooves pounding on cold, hard turf resounded in her ears, vibrating through her body, creating a driving beat and tempo. Her worries and cares fell away as her mind centred on that beat, creating music with it and the sound of the wind, the babble of the faraway stream, the caw of a bird flying high in the sky and the great shuddering breaths of the animal beneath her.
Without thought, she headed to the dell by the stream. She always went there when she felt troubled, when she needed to think. Perhaps if she spent some time there, she might be able to return home with a clear head and address the problems she had run from earlier.
Although she was pretty certain no amount of time spent in her favourite spot would make it any easier to tell Daemon they were over.
Chapter 22
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ Daemon said as he slammed into the Dower House. He wanted to throw something or, better yet, hit something. How could he have been so stupid? He’d gotten so caught up in the moment that he’d said too much and now she knew in the worst way possible about what he’d done.
And then to top off that insane moment of abject stupidity, he’d blurted out he loved her!
Where was his finesse? Where was the charm that he was notorious for?
He snorted. Apparently where it had always been when she was around – non-existent.
He stomped into the kitchen and past the table, noticing out of the corner of his eye the sheets of music he’d left lying there only yesterday – a song he’d started with such joy in his heart and now just taunted him.
‘Fuck!’ he shouted, swiping the music off the table. The sheets fluttering to the floor didn’t give him anywhere near the satisfaction he needed right now.
‘What the hell’s got your knickers in such a knot?’
He spun around to see Craig walking into the open-plan living area and snarled, ‘I thought you were going back to the hospital.’
‘I am, but I just had to get Phil a couple of things to make Lis’ room a little nicer for her.’ He lifted the bag in his hands.
‘Why don’t you just go on then? I’m not in the mood for company.’
‘Why?’ Craig’s eyes narrowed. ‘What have you done now?’
Daemon’s eyes widened. ‘Why do you assume I’m to blame?’
‘Because you usually are.’
Daemon opened his mouth to argue but then closed it and sank into the armchair, his head in his hands. ‘Christ. I’ve made such a mess. I don’t know how to come back from it.’
Craig put his bag down and walked over to sit on the chair opposite Daemon. ‘Is this about Lexi?’
Daemon’s head snapped up, eyes narrowed. ‘So what if it is?’
Craig sighed and shook his head. ‘I told you to be careful, that you were playing with fire. But you wouldn’t listen, would you? She’s not the kind of girl you usually mix with. She doesn’t know the score and she won’t play by your rules.’
Daemon shook his head, his chuckle low and dark. ‘Oh, don’t I know it. But you’re wrong – she’s the one who keeps saying we have no future. She agreed to be my lover. Only my lover.’
‘She what?’
‘Yeah. That surprised the hell out of me, too. But I thought I could win her around.’
Craig looked like he was choking for a moment before he managed to spit out, ‘You want a relationship with her?’
Daemon rubbed his hand over his face, his mouth grim when his hand dropped away. ‘I love her.’
The expression on Craig’s face would normally have made Daemon laugh, but he wasn’t in a laughing mood.
Finally Craig managed to choke out, ‘You love her. Have you told her?’
Daemon couldn’t sit any more. Pushing himself off the couch, he began to pace. ‘That’s part of the problem. I blurted it out at the wrong time and now she thinks either I didn’t mean it or just doesn’t believe it.’
‘What do you mean you blurted it out at the wrong time? How can there be a wrong time to say “I love you”?’
Daemon stopped and stared out the window at the fields and pastures rolling away into the wild fells in the distance. ‘If you’ve just admitted you’ve betrayed a person’s trust, it doesn’t mean a thing.’
‘You betrayed her trust? What did you do?’
There really was no way around it. Shoving his hands in his pockets, still staring out at the view, he said, ‘I had Nigel look into her background.’
‘You what?’
He winced. He deserved a tongue-lashing and more, but all the same it was hard to hear the hardness of Craig’s tone. ‘When we came here, she seemed to have so many secrets, what with her using a different name professionally and nobody knowing what she looked like, not to mention the precautions we took getting here so the press wouldn’t follow and then seeing her sister . . . I just couldn’t stand not knowing what had happened or why. I wanted to work with her, but I was so afraid it would hurt our work. I could barely write after what Darla did. The thought of something similar happening when I had so much hope for the first time in ages was too much. I knew it was wrong, but I had to find out. And you wouldn’t tell me.’ He looked down and kicked at the baseboard. ‘After getting the report, I knew why she was so secretive and that it wouldn’t affect our work here. I realised it was wrong, but I thought I was justified.’
‘You weren’t.’
‘I know that now,’ Daemon cried, spinning to face his friend. ‘I should have told her before I slept with her, but I just couldn’t seem to find the right time.’ He hung his head, shoulders slumped. ‘I realised today there’s no justification I can give that makes my intrusion into her privacy all right. . .I mean, she didn’t even want anything more than a fling before I told her; what chance do I have now?’ He laughed bitterly. ‘What made me think someone like Alexia would give me the time of day?’
He expected Craig to shout at him, to call him a fuck-up and slam the door.
But Craig didn’t move and when Daemon looked up at him, it was to see a frown of consternation on his friend’s face.
‘Why aren’t you shouting at me?’
‘Oh, I want to, but not for the reason you think. I want to shout at you because you persist in seeing yourself through the eyes of your mother. She’s been out of your life for well over twenty years. Why on earth do you still let her have so much say?’
Daemon started, took a step back. ‘Whoa. Where’d that come from?’
Craig sighed. ‘It comes from having watched you keeping yourself apart from the people in your life, tear yourself down, blame yourself for other people’s fuck-ups and go out of your way to prove your mother was right when she told you you were unlovable.’
Daemon gritted his jaw so hard it cracked. ‘I never told you she said that.’
‘I worked it out by reading between the lines and from things your da told me. I figured she must have made you feel like that, but until today I never really thought she’d actually said the words. But she did, didn’t she? And more.’
Daemon didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to. Craig knew him too well.
‘What I can’t work out is why you believed her.’
Daemon opened his mouth to deny that he ever had, but instead blurted out, ‘She was my mother.’
Craig’s lip curled. ‘She might have given birth to you, but she was no mother. She was a drug-addicted screw-up who never let you forget how unwanted you were.’
Daemon was speechless. How did Craig know?
Craig stood and walked towards him, answering Daemon’s unspoken question. ‘That year I worked in your da’s pub before we went off to university, he told me a lot of stuff. He didn’t know everything your mother put you through, but he knew a lot of it and it horrified him. He’d used up all of his inheritance, sold the family estate, given up everything, just to find you, and yet, to him, it wasn’t enough, because that bitch who called herself your mother had torn you up inside. He said it took years before you looked at him with anything but fear in your eyes. And you never let anyone close. He was so relieved you had finally made a friend in me that he was even willing to support our wild dreams of becoming musicians. He’d tried everything else to make you know you were loved – he thought maybe letting you go away again to do what you dreamed of was the only answer, even though it tore him up to let you go.’
‘I love Da. He knows I love him,’ Daemon said, trying not to give in to the trembling that had started deep inside.
Craig put his hand out, grasped his shoulder, stopping him from moving away.
‘I know you came to love your da, despite the poison your mother put in your head. I know you’ve got a good relationship now. But I’m not talking about you loving him. I’m talking about you truly believing that he loves you. Because I’ve never been sure you do. I’m not even sure that you know why we’re friends.’
‘Because of the music. We bonded over that.’
‘That’s true, in part. But that wasn’t all. If it was, we wouldn’t still be friends.’ He shook his head. ‘God, your mother fucked you over. You still see yourself through her worthless eyes and not through the eyes of your da. Or your friends.’
‘I don’t do that.’
Craig squeezed his shoulder. ‘I’m your best mate and have been for seventeen years; I think I know you better than anyone else. You’re the best mate a man could have. You’ve stuck by me and the band through thick and thin. We’ve got to where we have because you’re a stubborn arsehole who can’t let go of a dream. Why then. . .why when it comes to being loved, don’t you think you’re worthy of it? You always have to do more, be better, prove to us and everyone else that your talent makes you indispensable and we couldn’t possibly do without you.’
Daemon stared at his mate, floored by what he was saying. ‘I don’t think like that.’
‘Yes you do. You don’t trust that our friendship is enough to see us through the tough times because you don’t think you, by yourself, are enough to hold anyone to you. You choose utterly egotistical bitches like Darla to be with rather than a woman you truly deserve. Then when you meet the one woman who is a true match for you, you sabotage the relationship before it even has a chance to begin. Why do that if not for the fact you still believe what your mother told you?’
‘I . . . I . . . You’re wrong.’
Craig sighed and dropped his hand back to his side. ‘I wish I was, but I’m not.’
‘Right,’ Daemon drawled, his tone dripping with defensive sarcasm. ‘You tried to talk me out of starting anything with her. Don’t try and tell me now that was for any reason other than that you didn’t think I was worthy of her.’
‘Fuck, you can be such a shit sometimes,’ Craig snapped. ‘I told you that because growing up, she was like a little sister to me and I was being protective, especially given your track record on relationships. I mean, after what she’d been through, I just didn’t want you to screw around with her in any way. Sue me. But it had nothing to do with whether I thought you deserved her or not. If you truly love her, I think you’re a fool if you don’t do everything you can to make it up to her and get her back.’
Daemon pressed his lips together and took a step away. He felt as if Craig had reached into his chest and torn great chunks out of his heart. But, worst of all, he realised his friend was right. He had done all of that. He still let those seven years on the run with his mother, playing scam after scam, moving from one town to another, never settling down, never being able to make friends, never knowing who to trust or where he’d be the next day, let alone when the next meal would come, and never ever hearing one word of love escape his mother’s lips, taint every moment of his life thereafter. It was fucking amazing he’d ever managed to make a success out of anything given what she’d done to him.
But he couldn’t admit that to Craig now. Saying it out loud was too painful. His mother had never loved him. How did a man recover from that?
He turned to look back out the window, shame making it impossible to meet Craig’s eyes. ‘You’ve put your two bob’s worth in, so piss off.’
Craig sighed again and out of the corner of his eye, Daemon saw him shake his head. ‘I’m not trying to butt in. It’s just . . . Don’t you think it pains me to see you like this?’
‘This isn’t about you.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong. You made it about me when you allowed me to be your friend and let me in. You’ve made it about me because Lexi is like a little sister and I care about what happens to both of you. And lastly, you’ve made it about me because you’ve got the band involved this time and we want to continue working with Lexi. So, you’d better get over your sorry self and be the man your father made you, not the one your mother hung out to dry, because if you don’t you’ll regret it for the rest of your life.’
