Sweet Revenge

Sarah didn’t sleep much that night. Her chest hurt every time she took a breath, and Bilbo was determined to keep an eye on her, which meant he was licking her face every two seconds to make sure she was okay and no longer panicking. The couch had been barely comfortable before, when her body wasn’t aching, but now it was impossible to relax when her mind was running at ninety miles an hour, making her toss and turn with anxiety. She was beyond exhausted, confused and in need of some sort of reassurance that everything was going to be alright. That assurance was nowhere to be found, though, and she sorely missed her daughter right then, who had been a major source of comfort to her; once Charlotte was in her arms, her small hands stroking Sarah’s hair with a gentle touch, Sarah would instantly relax and let the fear and anxiety wash away during those precious moments. Sarah knew it was wrong to be dependent on a person for comfort, let alone a young child, who couldn’t understand why her mother would cling to her so tightly, and she felt the guilt keenly. She had nobody else, though; she was isolated from the world, in fear of revealing who she was, and bringing Michael right to her doorstep. It hadn’t mattered, though; Michael had come to her door anyway, and he always would, as long as he lived. Even if Michael were to disappear, she doubted that she would ever truly move on with her life. He had destroyed her ability to trust; not just in men, but in people. Her parents were the only two people she trusted in this world, but even her relationship with them had been fractured and frayed in the aftermath of everything that had happened with Michael. They couldn’t forgive themselves for cutting her out of their lives when she had dropped out of college, and the pain still gnawed at their insides, to the point where contact was hard to maintain. Her coming to Gerard was a big step; it was forcing her to place her trust in someone who had done nothing whatsoever to prove his worth to her. Maybe she was being a little careless, but now that Charlotte was safe, it was okay for her to take a calculated risk. She drifted off to sleep eventually, which she didn’t realise until she was woken up by a slamming door. She leapt from the sofa, adrenaline and shock sending her body into flight mode. Her heart was beating as wildly as it had the night before, accentuating the muscle pain from the panic attack only hours prior. A quick scan of the room revealed she was alone, and yet again the TV was off. It was an automatic habit to race over to the TV and switch it back on, her entire body shaking from the adrenaline overload and sudden alertness. She stood on front of the television, eyes shut tightly, and taking deep breaths, until the frantic panic ebbed into a more manageable mild unease.

Once she was more in control of herself, she became aware of the scent of coffee wafting into the sitting room. Her feet automatically followed her nose, treading lightly into the kitchen where an expensive-looking coffee maker took up an impressive amount of space on the counter beside the microwave. Grateful that Gerard had left some coffee in the pot for her, she rummaged through his kitchen cupboard to find a mug big enough to contain the amount of caffeine she needed to wake up and make it through the day on the ridiculously small amount of sleep she had gotten. She cussed when an opened packet of crackers fell out of the second cupboard she opened, dropping to the floor with a dull thud, and sending crackers flying across the floor. She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face irritably, and picked up the packet up with its remaining unharmed crackers, before going for the now dirty and contaminated broken pieces on the floor. She scooped the pieces in her hands, walking over to the bin to dump them in. She threw them in unceremoniously, almost missing the empty beer cans carelessly thrown in, in her tired state. She did a double take, realisation dawning on her. The familiar dread began to rise in her chest, but she breathed through the panic and rationalised the sight in front of her. It could have been a once off overindulgence, or he could have had friends over a couple of days ago. There was surely a good explanation for it, and she needed to learn not to panic at every little thing that reminded her of Michael. She let the bin close with a loud snap, before turning to the fridge to see if Gerard had any milk she could use for her coffee. She opened the fridge, her eyes widened at the cases of beer stacked neatly amongst the shelves. There was very little food otherwise; a few bits of essentials like butter, milk and cheese, but nothing that could make a meal. She bit her lip, unable to push away the fear that she may have naively placed her trust, and her life, in the hands of an alcoholic.

Gerard had woken up after drinking two more cans, and a barely restorative amount of sleep. Bilbo had been whining, somehow managing to avoid waking Sarah, but gaining Gerard’s attention. He had realised that Bilbo was probably crying to get out, and be fed. He threw on his outfit from the day before, grabbed a clean pair of socks and his shoes, before exiting his room. He had groaned when Bilbo jumped on him the second he opened the door, leash already in his mouth. The light in the sitting room was ridiculously bright, and with an irritated glare, he saw the television was on yet again. He stormed over to the television and switched it back off, before going into the kitchen and turning on the coffee maker; making enough for two people, in case Sarah decided that she wanted some, whenever she woke up. He supposed he could be considerate when he wanted to be. He waited the agonising minutes it took for the coffee to brew, with an impatient Bilbo crying softly beside him, when he finished his meal, before he poured some in his travel mug, adding condensed milk and some Splenda to the cup. He closed the lid, and attached Bilbo’s leash to his collar, who very nearly detached Gerard’s arm from his socket in his excitement to get out. Gerard slammed the door behind him, his mood far from pleasant, which was partially Sarah’s fault anyway, so if she suffered a little from his foul temper, it would serve her right. He reluctantly took Bilbo for a proper walk, or rather Bilbo took him for a walk, uncharacteristically pulling on his leash with impatience, and ignoring Gerard’s attempts to rein him in. Gerard put it down to the dog’s overexcitement over their guest, who was causing nothing but havoc since she had showed up at his home unannounced and unwelcomed. He let himself wallow in his spiteful thoughts for a while, which mellowed in direct correlation to the amount of coffee in his system. He was almost pacified by the time he arrived back in the apartment building, and when he closed the door of his apartment it was with a far gentler shove than when he had left. He could hear the television was back on, which was far less annoying now that he was more alert and able to deal with trivial aggravating traits. He let Bilbo off his leash, who proceeded to charge his way into the sitting room, and a resounding squeal, followed by a thump, was heard from where Gerard stood in the hall. His entrance into the sitting room was met with the sight of Sarah on the floor, squirming under Bilbo, who was lying on top of Sarah and licking her face. Her attempts to push the dog off were futile; he was a hunk of beast, and even Gerard had a hard time controlling him if Bilbo was determined and using his full strength.

“Bilbo, off!” Gerard roared, sending the dog flying off Sarah’s tiny frame with a whimper of apology. Bilbo scurried off to his bed in the corner, lying down with his head hidden under his large paws.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, watching Sarah scramble off the floor.

“No. He’s just heavy,” she replied a little breathlessly, rubbing her chest.

“Did you eat?” Gerard was eager to get going as soon as possible. She was dressed and showered, though, and he noticed that her eyes were back to their natural green colour.

“Eh…I found some cereal,” she muttered, not meeting his eyes. His observant eyes immediately spotted her nervous body language, in contrast to her confident and abrasive manner. It struck him as odd, but he didn’t question it. If she was subdued, then all the better for him.

“Good. We’re leaving in ten.Make sure you have everything!”

He didn’t wait for a reply; he went straight into his room, throwing in a few articles of clothing in a large duffle bag, along with his gun and ammunition. Next he raided the bathroom for his essentials, followed by the kitchen for his instant coffee, dog food, and a few cans, in case they didn’t make it to a supermarket by the time they got to their destination.

“You ready?” he barked, eyeing her behind his sunglasses. She had been rubbing Bilbo’s ears, slightly more relaxed. Her dark hair was flowing free, in contrast to her pale skin. Her clothes were non-descript, but he could see that she had a nice figure underneath them. He had to admit that she was a beautiful woman, even if she was infuriating beyond belief. She nodded and stood up, sparking Bilbo into action. He bounded over to his owner expectantly, sitting and waiting for Gerard to grab the leash.

“Where are we going?”

“A small cabin somewhere. That’s all you need to know,” Gerard replied tartly.

He grabbed Bilbo’s leash, leading the animal back out the front door. Sarah followed him, her icy glare almost cold enough to make Gerard shiver. He ignored it, locking the door behind him and guiding them to the car park. He unlocked the car, throwing his bag in the boot and settling Bilbo in the back seat. Sarah sat in the passenger seat, not paying attention to Gerard when he hopped in the driver seat and started the car.

“Is it a long drive?” she prayed it wasn’t, for both their sakes.

“It will be, if you don’t stop asking questions,” Gerard retorted monotonously.

Sarah rolled her eyes, slowly getting used to his unfeeling, sarcastic nature. She wondered what it was from their childhood that made the Way brothers so detached from their emotions. Michael had never spoken about his formative years, and she highly doubted Gerard would freely offer up the information to her. It wouldn’t stop her from trying, though; after all, they had a long journey ahead of them, and even a person as anti-social as Gerard would need some conversation eventually.

Notes

Another instalment for my lovely readers. I hope you guys enjoyed it!

Lyra