Page 52 of The Absence of You
Locking the door behind me, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, suddenly aware of what a state I’m in. My hair is all over the place, and my mascara is streaked from where the drink had splashed my face. I undress and fill the sink with water, using a few wet paper towels to wipe the sticky residue from my skin. The shock has sobered me up significantly, and the magnitude of the situation has begun to sink in.
I can’t believe we trusted those guys. I’d heard of plenty of people getting their drinks spiked back home, but this was the first time it’d happened to me. I shudder at the thought of what could have happened to us if Grayson hadn’t spotted them.
But the thought of being spiked isn’t what my mind keeps going back to. It’s that the fact that it was Grayson that stopped it. Not Callie’s bodyguards who are both fully trained and paid to protect her. Grayson. Despite all the signals Grayson had sent me this week, he had been looking out for me tonight. Surely that had to mean something, right? God, I am so mixed up about it all. Maybe he’d just seen that guy do it because he was sitting at the next table? Maybe it was nothing more than him being a good citizen, but I can’t help but hope it means more than that. Like he still cares about me.
I get dressed quickly into the oversized t-shirt, which ironically covers more of me than the dress I’d been wearing, and leave the bathroom. Callie passes me a pair of black leggings, and I pull them on and make us both a cup of coffee in the kitchen area while she uses the bathroom to clean herself up.
We both sit on the sofa, drinking our coffees. The silence stretching between us.
“Well, tonight went well,” Callie says, breaking the quiet. We look at each other, and I snort. Callie giggles, and she slaps a hand over her mouth. In the cold light of day, no doubt we’ll remember there is nothing remotely funny about what could have happened. However, there is a certain euphoria that comes from knowing we have come through this fuck up of a night unscathed and, damn, it feels better to laugh than to cry. Eventually, we calm down enough to call ourselves a ride, we head out through the staff exit of the building and walk round to the front to wait.
A group of people are also waiting outside the bar and as we get closer, I realise it’s Grayson, Asher, Charlotte and Meghan. The last thing I feel like doing is speaking to him, but we really do owe him a thank you. “Grayson, can I have a quick word?” I call over to him.
He turns around and with what I swear is concern etched on his face, he runs his eyes over me. Once he appears satisfied with what he sees, his expression seems to turn stony again. “What do you want?”
I try to block out Charlotte and Meghan’s contemptuous stares. “I just wanted to say thanks. We appreciate you looking out for us.”
Grayson scoffs. “I wasn’t looking out for you, Dahlia.” He almost spits out my name. “I was only doing what any decent human being would do. That’s all. You’re nothing special.” Charlotte and Meghan laugh at his words before Charlotte sidles up next to him, her arm curling around his waist as she kisses his jaw.
“Come on baby, let’s go back to my place, and I can take care of you.” She shoots me a look of pity as she runs her hand up and down his arm. As if he’s just become aware of her touching him, he grabs hold of her hand and tears his gaze away from mine to meet hers and leans down to kiss her. It’s barely a peck, but their intimacy is like a slap to the face. Slinging his arm around her shoulder, he draws her under his arm as she nuzzles into him.
And just like that, any notion that his chivalrous actions were anything more than that are dispelled.
My already battered heart feels like it is splintering down the middle. Bile rises in my throat, and all the alcohol I’ve consumed tonight threatens to reappear. God, I cannot be sick in front of them. Just as I’m sure I’m about to embarrass myself further, I hear the welcome sound of a car pulling up, and not even checking whether it’s ours or not, I dive in. Callie gives the driver her address and as the car tears away from her father’s bar, it takes everything in me not to fall apart.
Chapter Forty-Three
GRAYSON
Iwake up late the next morning, my head pounding and my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. I groan as the events of last night start coming back to me. Those two pricks had been so close to taking advantage of Lia and Callie. I’d seen red when I’d clocked them spiking their drinks. I already wanted to kill that creep when he’d been all over Lia on the dancefloor, and it’d taken a lot of restraint not to actually do it once I saw him slip those pills in their pink cocktails. Those fucking bodyguards hadn’t been as observant as me, but at least they made up for it afterwards. Asher and I had gone outside to teach the rapist fucks a lesson, but as it turned out, we needn’t have bothered. We’d watched as Callie’s bodyguards had thrown them in the back of a black van and taken off with them. They looked barely conscious, so I’m pretty confident they won’t be preying on innocent women again anytime soon.
Dragging myself out of bed, I stagger into the bathroom. I desperately need a shower. I stink of bourbon and Charlotte’s disgusting perfume. When I catch sight of my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I can barely look at myself.
All last week in school, I tried to avoid Dahlia. I didn’t want to see her look at me with the hate I deserved, but there was none of that in her expression last night when she realised I’d stopped that guy spiking her drink. She looked at me like there was a chance I was still worth something, but the truth is, there is nothing good left in me. I acted out of sheer jealousy more than chivalry. The selfish bastard in me hadn’t wanted anyone touching her, whether she’d consented to it or not. I wish I was worthy of that look she’d given me. But I wasn’t.
When she came outside afterwards and thanked me, I couldn’t bear to see that hope in her eyes. That’s why I put my arm around Charlotte, even though she makes my skin crawl. It’s why I’d forced myself to kiss her when I didn’t want to kiss another woman ever again if it isn’t Dahlia. The minute she left in the car, I pushed Charlotte away from me, not wanting to keep up the act a minute longer than I needed to.
I might have achieved exactly what I set out to do. To push her away from me in order to protect her from my father. But nothing had prepared me for how awful it felt watching her break as I said those fucking awful things to her on Monday morning in the car park.
It had taken every ounce of my restraint not to turn back and tell her it was all fucking lies. When I told her that the sex meant nothing, I watched something in her eyes die and something in me died right there with it. She gave me her virginity, and I told her it was a mistake. Even though it was hands down the best experience of my life. Even though that night had meant everything to me. Everything. But I had to say something to make her hate me.
When Asher suggested going to the bar, I agreed. I had no idea Dahlia would be there. All I wanted to do was to get off my face so I wouldn’t have to think about the situation for a few hours, but all I achieved was just fucking everything up even more. Because it wasn’t just hate on Dahlia’s face when I touched Charlotte. It was hurt. Hurt that I inflicted.
My gut twists as I relive every awful thing I’ve said and done this week. I succeeded in making her hate me, but at what cost?
My reflection stares back at me. I fucking loathe myself.
“Fuck, Fuck!!” I slam my hands down on the sink and lean back on the wall behind me, sliding down to the floor. Putting my head in my hands, I start to fall apart. There is no coming back from this. I thought I hated my father before, but this is one sacrifice too far. He’s cost me the most important thing in my life, and he has no idea what I’ve given up for him.
After my shower, I force myself to pull on a pair of sweats and a hoodie and head out to meet Asher. We have arrangements to meet at Lolly’s, and even though I don’t feel like being sociable, I need to get out of the house.
I’m probably still way over the legal alcohol limit to drive, so I better walk. The last thing I need is to get breathalysed.
Connecting my earbuds, I put my workout playlist on and start walking. I’m on autopilot, and I must have been walking at a decent pace because when I glance down at my watch, I realise I’m too early to meet Asher. I could wait in Lolly’s, but it looks busy and there are a few kids from school there. The last thing I feel like doing is making idle chit-chat. While I stand here debating what to do for half an hour, I feel the first droplets of rain from the grey sky above. Of course, fucking rain.
Looking around, my eyes land on the small bookshop at the end of the high street.
The one Lia works in.
