David Campbell - Love Me Or Leave Me ~ Night time is my time for just reminiscing, Regretting instead of forgetting with somebody else"
26th March 2009
The loud sounds of the city center woke me from the most delicious dream. I breathed in deep, hoping that the sweet fruity scent I'd been immersed in, that had taunted me in my sleep would somehow still linger here in the real world.
Hmm, nope. Just the smell of the regular buy in bulk laundry detergent they used here at the Raddison. I rolled over, reaching a hand out to her side of the bed, finding nothing but the cold sheets under my hands. Of course, she was always gone come the morning of her last day in town. She was never one for awkward goodbyes. I cracked my eyes open in the semi darkened room and sure enough, a familiar piece of hotel stationary was laying atop the pillow.
I yawned, rolling back over on my back and stretching my arms above my head. The cool air conditioning that she always had to have up a few notches above what was necessary hit the skin revealed on my stomach as the sheet moved down with my movement. Of course, she'd pick up on it. Even with all this time apart, she still appeared to know me better than I knew myself.
Freaky little pixie.
And damn Isabella Masen. After I drove her home last week, she'd been invading my thoughts at every spare second. I could close my eyes and feel her petite form wrapped around me on the back of my bike. The way her small hands slipped under my jacket to grasp onto the small amount of skin where my shirt and pants didn't quite meet on my hips. Her smell. Her fucking sweet scent that I couldn't escape.
When I'd taken my little flight attendant out dancing this week, she'd ordered pina colada's all night long. The smell, that familiar tropical aroma filled my senses. I could taste it on her lips when she kissed me and it took maybe her fourth or fifth drink and lithe body grinding into mine before I swept her over my shoulders all caveman-like and double-timed it back to her hotel room.
There may, or may not be holes in the wall that her airline is going to have to pay for from the bed head meeting with the drywall a few times too many. Just saying…
How could something as simple as the smell of coconuts and sugar get to me like that? I'd never known anything to affect me that way, let alone a woman's scent. She was right though, there was something distracting me from my usual "happy to have you here let's get our fuck on" week that I had when she was in town.
Isabella fucking Masen.
I kept trying to keep this professional. I reminded her at our session yesterday that it would be beneficial if she could keep to using my number as an emergency contact only. Sexual innuendo laden texts were not part of that. Neither were invitations to catch up for coffee either. She just kept pushing and pushing. Right up until I mentioned her Dad again.
There was something there and I knew it. She clammed up each and every time we went down that road. I knew it was hard for her to talk about, I knew even from my Dad's notes that she refused to talk about it in her couple's therapy with Edward. Yet every time we came close to broaching the subject, she became tight lipped. Her eyes would change in an instant, there would be this flash... this look on her face that reminded me a lot of a scared child and then it was gone. Another mask would slip on, the one that was most like Sexy B and she'd start in on the Doctor J, playing with the locket on her chest that would, without my permission, drag my eyes to the curve of her breasts in whatever low cut outfit she was wearing.
If she didn't open up soon, I was going to have to do a little digging of my own. I didn't want to, though. I wanted her to feel safe enough to open up to me about whatever it was that caused her eyes to flicker with pain at the mere mention of her father. I'd hoped with things settling down between her and Edward she'd get there faster. Something in the last week had happened though. She was antsy, even more on edge in our last session. At the mere mention of seeing her car at the Diamond Dogs field earlier in the day when I was on my regular run, she shut down. Told me she had to be somewhere and ran out of the room like a bat out of hell.
The noise of my stomach rumbling reminded me of where I was and that I couldn't very well lay there all day. It wasn't like I was at home and could laze about as long as I wanted. I sat up, swinging my feet over the edge of the bed and took a glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table. Nine thirty five. Brilliant. A quick shower, shave and I'd have to be out of here. At least I didn't have anything else on the agenda for today, only drinks with Dad come eight tonight. That gave me plenty of time to work off any further thoughts of Isabella Masen and hopefully get her out of my system.
She was just a patient. A patient that I was finding myself attracted too, but a patient none the less. A patient whose hair smelled like fresh baked pineapple upside down cake and would leave me reeling whenever she brushed past. Whose lips looked like she'd just bitten into a dark ripe cherry, the juice staining them deep red. Whose skin was luminous and translucent like the first ping of milk into the bucket straight from Bessie, my favorite dairy cow. Whose eyes were as warm and as deep as a pot of hot chocolate like Maria would cook back home.
Everything about her reminded me of a time long ago. Of hay bales and dry Texas summer heat. Of laying in just my boxers on cool cotton sheets in the evening, listening to the crickets chirp and feeling like there was no better place to be. She reminded me of a time when things were easier. When my life had been simple and full of love and laughter... most of the time. Just being around Bella brought back memories of all the things I wanted to remember, and at the same time, all the things I was trying hard to forget.
When I got home, there were twenty new messages on my answering machine. Twelve of those from Bella, none of which adhered at all to the "emergency only" clause I'd given her. A couple were work related, a dentist appointment, one from my Mom checking I was still making it to brunch on Sunday, Dad calling to gloat on the fate of the Longhorns' latest game, reminding me about tonight and then one that I had to replay a few times before I deleted it.
"Mi pequeña estrella, you know how I would not call unless it was mui importante. It is your Father mi dulce. I think it is time you came home. Give it some thought, por favor. I miss your voice, mi pequeña estrella. He needs you even though he will never admit it. Come home."
My gut rolled as Maria's thickly accented words repeated over in my head on continuous loop. It was what wasn't said rather than what was that weighed heavily on my mind. It's your Father. I knew that the old man had been sick for a while now. It wasn't a shock to me five years ago that the lifestyle he'd lead had finally caught up to him. It wasn't a surprise that he'd outlived the year to two years at the most diagnosis they'd given him back then either.
My so-called "father". He was Texas born and bred, a man's man through and through, salt of the earth as some would say. More like a poison that infected everything he touched, it was no wonder that the toxins in his blood weren't doing enough to kill him. He was already rotten to the core. There was nothing about that man that I wanted to dwell on. Nothing about him that I wanted to think about and in reality, I had nothing I wanted to thank him for. The only good thing I ever got from James Jasper Whitlock the Third was my name, and the curls that adorned my head. I wouldn't have wanted anything more.
I looked at the phone on the kitchen bench, knowing that I should probably get this over and done with. Maria would be waiting, and for her to call earlier than our regular Sunday night conversations, meant something was definitely going on. I decided to put it off for another few minutes, grabbing the clothes I'd taken to the hotel and throwing them in the wash. I fussed around with the few dishes I'd left in the sink from when we'd had dinner here on Tuesday night... yes, they'd been there for that long. I was far too concerned with getting her upstairs into my bed to clean the small amount of cutlery, pots and pans it had taken me to wine and dine her. Once those were clean and left to air dry, I put it off even longer by actually cleaning every inch of the house. From hosing off the deck outside, scrubbing the shower walls down, mopping the floors and I even polished the windows inside and out.
When I next looked at the clock, it was five in the evening. Figuring in the time difference, Maria would probably be serving Father dinner or at least putting the finishing touches on it. No better time to call really, she wouldn't have long to talk and I would have the perfect excuse to get off the phone should things get strained. Which I was sure they would.
I grabbed the cordless from the kitchen and dialed the familiar numbers to what had once been my home. While listening to it ring, I turned up the dial on the heating and settled on the three-seater lounge with my bare feet hanging off the end. I could feel the anxiety starting to twist my gut in two. Why oh why did she have to call? I'd had such a great week. I'd made up for the few months of no real female companionship at least three times over and then some. I'd shared great food, great wine and great conversation with someone that I cared about. I'd had little to no time to think about anything beyond hearing her laugh, kissing her lips and getting her naked.
I was just about to hang up and call again later when finally there was a voice on the other end of the line.
"Yes?"
I closed my eyes and fisted the velvet throw pillow that I'd been stroking absentmindedly and threw it across the room.
"Hello, Father." Fuck, fuck, fuck and some more fuck on top of that.
The rasping sound of his slow breathing echoed over the phone line.
"Who is this?" I rolled my eyes, he knew perfectly who it was. He only had one son.
"Jasper, Sir. How have you been?" I knew mentioning that Maria had called would only leave her with Father's wrath when I finished our call. It was best to leave her out of it.
"Jasper?"
I stifled a groan, "Yes, Sir. Jasper, your son. I know it's been a while since we spoke."
"I had a son once, but he left his home and duties to live with his whore of a mother."
"Father!"
"Then I welcomed him back into my home, turning a blind eye to his past indiscretion, and he left me again. Lying here prostrate, unable to move and withering away to nothing. Disease eating at my insides and all because he couldn't handle himself. Couldn't look past his own selfish needs. So you see, I think I have a perfectly good reason for forgetting all about my son," he finished with a coughing fit that even as pissed off as I was, I couldn't hang up on.
I was used to the vitriol that would be the only form of communication we had on the rare occasion that Maria would guilt me into talking to him. If I had it my way, I'd never speak to the man who was half responsible for my birth.
"I know it's been a while sir, I apologize." Sometimes it was just easier to agree with him, and get it over with. He harrumphed and I took that as a sign to go on.
"So sir, how are you feeling? Well I hope?" I asked, keeping my tone light and hopefully respectful enough for the old bastard.
"I'm dying Jasper. There is no chance of me feeling well. Each day just drifts into the next with pain and doctor's appointments. Then on top of that, I still have a ranch to run." He paused, for dramatic affect, I'm sure but I was used to his games by now. "Over three hundred head of long horns all on my own seeing as I have no family nearby to help me."
I scrunched my eyes up and bit my fist, willing the words I would have loved to say back down my throat. He was a sick, sick old man and even if he made my life miserable with guilt, he didn't deserve me making him feel any worse.
"I'm sure Eleazar's offer still stands, Sir. He's been offering to buy you out for years now," I offered, and even as I spoke the words I knew I'd just opened up another can of worms.
"The housekeeper's son? You think that boy has any idea of how to run our property, Jasper? There has always been a Whitlock on this land and overseeing The Lazy W Ranch and if you'd finally pull your head out of your proverbial ass and come home, you could make sure there always would be." He started coughing again and I took the brief pause in conversation to put my thoughts and words into order.
He knew that I didn't want to run the ranch. He knew that I wasn't cut out for that sort of thing. That I had no interest in the right feed for the cattle, or how the breeding program was going for the stock horses. Sure, I'd loved the outdoor side of growing up down there. I could ride and keep the herd in check just as good as any of the other cowboys . I just, didn't love it like he wanted me to. That, amongst a variety of other reasons was enough to make our phone calls always short and far between.
I could probably spend the next few hours arguing with him or I could try and turn the subject around. Or the third option, "Sir, I was just calling to make sure you were well. I have a few things I have to do before I head out this evening so I best be going."
"Well now, I wouldn't want to keep you from your busy city life, now would I? After all, what am I, apart from the man who kept a roof over your head and paid for your schooling? What thanks do I need after all?" he whined, coughing again through most of his diatribe. The telltale click and dial tone was another predictable move; end of conversation, and it really couldn't have come faster.
I rolled up and off the couch, pacing in front of the French windows. There was no calming view for me, just the sheets of rain pounding against the glass in what appeared to be a never ending cycle. The usual lights of the Sound were muted by the water rolling down the screen. One phone call, one phone call and the week of sex and the sunny warmth that only she brought to my world was gone. I felt completely sucked dry of all the good my little pixie had done while she was here, all because of him. If I had just waited till later to call, or even waited till Sunday for Maria to call me instead, I could have saved myself the stress. I could feel the tension and knots filling my back and neck.
What I wouldn't give for a massage right now.
I threw the phone over to the lounge, not really giving a shit that it bounced and made a pretty definite breaking sound as it fell onto the wooden floor below and skidded somewhere else. Just another fucking wonderful addition to my day, on top of the verbal guilt trip that only the "old man" could give me. I swore loudly, kicking the cushion that I'd thrown across the room earlier. Wrapping my hands around the back of my neck, interlacing my fingers I let my head fall backwards as I stopped and stared at the roof for answers. The roof however, held none.
I needed to do something. He always had this way of just getting under my skin and even after all this time I still let him. His accusations rolled around in my head like marbles in a spinning bowl, constantly crashing into one another and only adding to the headache that merely hearing his voice activated.
If this had been a few years ago. There would have been only one thing to stop the noise in my head. Sweet relief had come far too easy to me then, and I'd ended up paying dearly for it. Now though, now I had other ways of dealing with my problems. I checked my watch and found yet another hour had passed and if I wanted to get this out of my system and meet Dad on time I needed to get my ass into gear. A nice long ride around the city and I was bound to feel better.
I bounded up the stairs, stripping my shirt and pants as I went, throwing them at the hamper and, as always, missing so they ended up mostly on the floor. I stepped into the bathroom, which still managed to smell like the citrus cleaner I'd used over the dark slate tile, and showered quickly.
Throwing on my tried and true dark jeans, a long sleeve white button up, grey vest and one of Dad's old navy ties, I sat on the edge of my bed, pleased with how fast I was moving now that I had a plan of action. I tugged on my old dark brown riding boots with the large silver buckles and then hunted around in my bureau for another staple item, my old cowhide belt with the silver long horn belt buckle. As I caught my reflection in the full length mirror on the back of my door, I realized talking to my old man, even for the world's worst conversation, had subconsciously affected the way I had dressed. I chuckled at the thought of a ten gallon hat would completely set my current look off. Urban cowboy chic, my pixie would call it.
Too late now, I had things to do.
I ran a hand through my still damp curls and picked up my thin black frames. I was too achy to deal with my contacts tonight. Who knows, my pixie always says girls are a sucker for a hot geek. Maybe I'd get a few looks tonight at the bar, well a few more than my Dad anyway. I raced back down the stairs grabbing my wallet, keys and my brown leather riding jacket and walked up the dock toward the garage, fighting the urge not to twirl my keys around my finger. I'd learned my lesson the first time they flew off and into the murky depths below. The rain had finally decided to drop back to a mere sprinkle, so I wasn't overly concerned with getting wet again. Luck, apparently, was with me tonight.
I let out a long sigh when I finally got the garage open and saw my bike waiting for me. Just the smell of grease, motor oil and petrol in the small room was enough to start pulling me back from the teeth gritting tense situation I found myself in. Pulling on my helmet, and starting the motor up, listening to its soothing rumble between my legs had me relaxing even more. As I rode through the darkened Seattle streets, meandering in no real direction I finally felt the last of the pressure in my muscles dissipate.
I hadn't even realized where I was riding until I realized I'd reached the end of a cul-de-sac. When I looked up and saw a familiar set of iron gates, I mentally kicked myself.
Isabella fucking Masen.
What was with this woman?
I whipped the bike around and headed back into Seattle's centre. I'd wasted enough time with my so-called mindless meandering on the bike. Even if it had led me to her door, I still felt a lot better than I had. Fucking Isabella Masen. Even when I wasn't consciously thinking about her, some part of me obviously was. It annoyed me to no end that I couldn't get her out of my head. The first person I have a duty of care to, who's mental capabilities I'm in charge of and she's the one that appears to affect me more than I affect her. I would fight whatever it was my body and mind saw in her. I'd come too far with my dreams to throw it all in now.
Nope, she was a patient. I was the man that would try and help her back onto the rails that she'd so obviously come off. That was all it could be, no matter what other ideas my dick might have had. She was the venus fly trap and I was the clever fly that just admired from a distance and didn't get eaten up and spit out. I'd help her find her way back to her own happiness, and that should lie with her husband. For crying out loud, she'd been married to him for eight years. That had to mean something, even if she was only faithful for four of them.
~8~
I finally found parking around the corner from the bar and headed in. It was getting fairly busy now and a quick glance at my watch showed that I'd actually arrived a little later than I thought I would. Not that it mattered, it just meant Dad would be at least one drink ahead of me and probably a few dollars up in whatever bets we were laying down on tonight's game too.
I'd just started pulling down the zip of my jacket, doing a slow scan of the bar area for Dad, when something else caught my eyes.
Chocolate brown hair, glowing with red highlights in the soft bar lights. That laugh, as I stepped closer, I knew that laugh.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
She was here. Just when I thought I'd finally pushed her from my mind, there she was practically wrapped around some guy at the bar. Her hand wrapped around his back, her fingers curled into the short hair at the nape of his neck. I saw her lean back and laugh, clutching one hand to her breast that was just about on show from how low that red dress was cut.
It was when I saw where his hand was pressed into the small of her back, just above the pert rise of her ass that I saw red.
Mine.
I pushed quickly through the crowd and over to where she was still giggling, that beautiful blush I had dreams about stretched across her perfect skin. She caught my gaze and her smile widened.
"Bella," I stepped close to her side, just as she moved her hand from his hair and touched his shoulder, indicating I had joined them.
"Well lucky me. Two doctors in one night, what's a girl to do?"
The man spun around in his seat.
"Dad?"
I couldn't tell you who's face was registered more shock. Dad's mouth was hanging open for a second before he snapped it closed, sliding closer to the bar and further from Bella's clutches. A hint of red covered his cheeks, and at that stage I wasn't sure whether it was from me catching him talking or whatever it was with Bella or from the full scotch on the rocks I saw him pick up and drain.
What the fuck?
"Hi. Um, hello there, son! Look who I ran into just a few moments ago," he grinned, his eyes not quite meeting mine. What the hell did I just walk in on?
"Oh Carlisle! A few moments? I dare say we've been here a good twenty minutes chatting now!" She smiled, one corner of her blood red lips turning up higher than the other as she yet again laid her hand atop Dad's which was still sitting on his thigh. My stomach rolled at the simple action that didn't look innocent at all. I couldn't move or make a sound, still too uncertain of what the hell was going on in front of me to even say a word.
Dad chuckled, but it came out more like a forced bark as he removed her hand and signaled for his glass to be refilled. He looked to me with a raised brow, a silent question if I would be joining him and I shook my head. I was too shocked by what I was seeing to even consider what I wanted to drink right now.
"So Jasper, you never told me that Carlisle wasn't your –"
"Hey Bells, our dinner's here," a soft voice from a very pregnant woman interrupted from Bella's side. I'm sure she was a pretty girl without it, but the blue streaks in her hair that matched the blue crystal in her nose and bottom lip only appeared to enhance her understated beauty. She looked between Bella, Dad and myself, her violet eyes suddenly widening and with a slight nod it appeared she had figured out who we were. A hint of a grin appeared on her lips before she tugged on Bella's elbow.
"Oh, right. Well sorry boys, it looks as if I have to make this short and sweet. This could be our last girls night out before my friend Ang here pops!" she giggled leaning in to press a kiss to my father's cheek and before I knew it, I had one on mine also. My fingers moved of there own volition to touch where her lips had just been. I couldn't help but stare at her firm ass as she swayed back through the crowd until finally, I lost her. I turned back to Dad, and noticed he was staring in the same direction in virtually the same position I'd just been in.
This just made me even more uncomfortable.
"Dad." It wasn't often I called him anything other than Doc, so when I used that term of endearment he turned his head, taking his hand from his cheek and clasping it on my shoulder.
"Well that was a surprise huh, son?" I could still hear the uneasiness in his tone, no matter how light hearted his words were.
I shook off his hand. Touch felt a little too much right now.
"Doc, were you flirting with Bella?" I didn't want to pussy around it. I was fairly certain what I'd seen when I had walked in wasn't anything other than that.
He choked on the sip he'd just taken, putting the glass down and picking up a black napkin to dab at his lips while he got his breath back. His eyes were wide but the few seconds he took after finishing revealed that I'd pretty much nailed what I'd seen on the head.
"Fuck Doc, come on. She's my patient for crying out loud, not to mention you're married to my mother."
"What's a little innocent flirting between two adults Jasper? Your mother does it all the time with the waiters when we're out, there's really no difference between what she does and what I was doing," he sputtered, and it truly did sound like he was backpedaling as he took another hit from his drink.
"You were flirting with someone who used to be your patient. Someone who you know has serious boundary issues when it comes to you, and you think it's fine to encourage her?" I could feel the tension and anger I'd worked off on my ride seeping back into my muscles. I couldn't believe what I'd just seen or that he was actually admitting to doing it.
"Oh Jasper, it wasn't as bad as you're making out. We actually had quite a nice little chat. She asked me who I was here to meet and then mentioned that she hadn't heard from you much this week. That she'd been texting you and you hadn't answered her calls. Now I may just be your senior when it comes to the practice of psychiatry, son, but if a patient calls you in the week and leaves you a message that says it's urgent that you call her back, it's common courtesy to return her call,"
Was he really turning this around to somehow being my fault? How was it in any way my fault where he had his hands touching her? Touching her skin and letting her put her hands all over him?
"Doc, Bella hasn't quite figured out just what "in case of emergency" means. She's always calling and if I ignore it she tends to let it alone until our next appointment. I seriously don't think her asking me to meet her for coffee would be in any way related to an urgent therapy situation." I rolled my eyes, signalling to the bartender. I ordered a coke and waited for Dad's come back.
When I turned to face him with my newly acquired drink his countenance had turned serious.
"Jasper, how would you know what is serious and what is not if you never answer any of her calls. From what I've heard, she really did need you this week. Especially with what today is." He crossed his arms over the navy suit with a light blue collared shirt underneath that he was wearing, most likely straight from work. His eyes turned stern under his rectangular frames and the look he gave me brought me right back to five years ago. Five years ago when I was in need of such serious looks that said "this is for your own good so listen up". A look I hadn't really thought I'd have to see again. I guess the Dad side of Doc was about to come out.
"What do you mean, Doc? There's nothing in your notes about anything today. I've read them, thoroughly from cover to cover." I straightened up feeling that this conversation was about to change from me scolding Dad to him scolding me.
"Let's walk," he nodded to a corner table that was out of Bella's line of sight and looked a little more private. I picked up my drink and followed Dad through the crowd, sitting in one of the low wooden chairs beside him.
He was quiet for a moment, swirling the cubes around in his glass before sighing, rubbing his free hand across his brow with his eyes scrunched. The sounds of the noisy bar around us and someone starting karaoke up in the corner were all I could hear as I waited for whatever he needed to say away from the main crowd.
Finally, after a few more minutes had passed, he leaned forward and motioned for me to do the same.
"What has she told you about her family?"
I took a sip of my beer, settling it on top of a random coaster on the table before sitting back in my seat a little.
"Not much. Her Dad was a Police Chief in a little town north of here. Her brother was an up and coming college baseball player and something about her Mom leaving them when she was little. It hasn't really been a subject we've focused on, and even when I do ask she's a little hesitant to offer any more information," I answered honestly.
"And her husband hasn't been in contact with you at all today?" These cryptic questions were leaving me utterly confused. I took my phone out of my pocket and turned it back on, noting that I had actually received a few calls from Doctor Masen during the day. I'd turned the thing off as soon as I'd gotten back from the hotel and plugged it in to charge, hoping that having it off might deter Bella from calling.
"Yeah he has, I turned it off earlier today. I guess with everything else that went on today I forgot to turn it back on. What's going on, Doc?"
He closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly before taking another long sip of his drink, virtually emptying the glass.
"We're not really in the best place for me to share confidential information. Let me just say this, it might be good to push her further on the subject next week. From the way he was talking today, I think this could be something that is worth exploring." The sound of Sinatra's "Something Stupid" emanated from his pocket, Dad excused himself to answer. While I half listened to what I was sure was my Mother pulling Dad back home early, I couldn't get the implications of what he'd hinted at out of my head.
I had a suspicion there was something in her past that was in some way affecting the way she behaved. There were too many walls she was hiding behind, too many ways that she shut out who she really was. As my gaze moved around the room, I caught her familiar shape again, waiting at the bar. The spark that was always there in her eyes was gone. There was a line in the middle of her forehead and her shoulders were slightly hunched as she drew lazily with one finger on the wooden bar. There was a sadness in her eyes, her whole stance, there had to be something big putting that there.
Come Tuesday next week at four o'clock, I'd see about finding out just what that was.
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