BLACK...

A god-damn-shitty-son-of-a-bitch-scumbag.  Yep that's me.  She probably would've liked to call me worst than that but she doesn't swear much so this is what I'll stick with, this is what I am, only worst.  I slump back against the cold cement wall, looking down at the dried blood that has congealed around all the cuts on my hands.  I can feel the tender skin under my eyeballs already turning blue while I look down at my injuries.  I wipe away the trickle of blood that has steadily run from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, making more of a mess across my face.  When I stretch out my left leg and move my foot back and forward I can feel all the muscles stretching tightly, I can move it so it ain't broke, even though jumping off the balcony three floors up should of done more damage.  Luckily the row of thick bushes in front of the hotel gave me a some what softer landing than the cement foot path but just scratched the shit out of me.  Not so funny, once the alcohol has worn off just as to how much pain I'm in.  I lay down sideways, my back still against the wall and look across the room at the door holding me here.  My eyes well up just thinking about it.  But it's not me I should be upset for.  

I lost the fight, I had a tantrum, threw things around, yelled and screamed, cursed loudly and yet after all that I still didn't win.  I wasted so much energy tonight doing the wrong thing, I have no energy left now to work out how to do the right thing.  I'm beat.  I'm defeated, I need to sleep and hope in my dreams that maybe there I'll find a glimmer of hope.  I close my eyes, fall to sleep and yes I do dream.  I see her face, her gorgeous face smiling at me like she does.  We're in a field of flowers, the sun is shining brightly, a cool breeze drifts all around us swirling butterflies around our heads.  She is walking backwards amongst all the flowers gently running her fingers over the top of them, feeling soft petals tickle her fingertips, and that smile is just killing me.  I can tell she has a secret, she wants to tell me.  'What is it?' I ask her.  She cheekily turns and starts running away from me, she wants me to chase her, she is the only one that makes me act like a big kid.  I happily run behind her, happy to play the game with her.  Then suddenly she disappears from sight.  I panic, looking around everywhere I can't find her.  I turn my head, looking in everywhere for her, my heart starts beating rapidly.  'LACIE' I yell.  I jerk upright, my head is spinning, my heart feels like it is about to jump out of my body.  Sitting, sweating, hungover on an uncomfortable metal bed, I realise I'm still caged in this cement cell and all I want is to go back to the dream and find her.

After I manage a few deeps breathes my heart settles down.  I look around finding a tray with packaged food sitting on the floor.  I slowly walk over to it, only interested in the bottle of water.  My head is aching, a splitting ache thumps all around it.  I wobble a bit while I skull the whole bottle in one go.  Nothing else on the tray will be touched.  I sit back down putting my hands to my head.  I can't remember if I told anyone where I was yesterday, stupid thought of course, no-one knew where I was.  But no doubt the press has gotten hold of all the sordid details by now, like usual.  It won't be long and someone will be here to scold me about my behaviour, then set me free to do it again.   The only person I want to walk in that door is her but I'd never want her to see me like this and besides that she will never want to look at me again after what I've done.  I'm glad she ran from me, she doesn't read the papers or watch t.v much so hopefully she won't see the sort of photo's they will show.  But I regret what her eyes did see.  And it didn't take any scoundrel working for the press to show her, it took just that one message on my phone to end it all.  And now I need to fix it.  I need to tell her the truth about me.  I need her to forgive me and I need to change.  But where do I start?

I watch the day change to night, shadows crawl along the cold cement floor.  I've watch food being delivered and taken away.  I've hardly seen another human for the last twenty four hours.  Better this way, who would want to see me like this? My headache has changed from stressing about what I've done, to anxiety trying to work out how to remedy it.  The blood has dried and is flaking off my skin, I need to wash away this god-damn awful week-end.  I'm ready to get out of here.  I force my body up, god it's painful.  I limp over to the door that is keeping me here, leaning up to look out of the small window into a hallway, wow that really hurts.  I can see rows of closed doors and can faintly hear talking.  With all the energy I have left, which isn't much I bang on the door trying to get someones's attention.  No-one answers.  So I kick it in frustration, not a good idea with an already swollen foot I realise after.  I give up easily and hobble back to the bed.  Just from that one action I can tell my temper is still out of control.  I'm under arrest, why would kicking the door get me anywhere?  I'm mad at myself, frustrated at myself, how can I fix it if I hate myself so badly.  Why did she love me so much? Why didn't she get mad or frustrated at me?  Why didn't she try and fix me? Why did she leave me be?  She was strong I was weak.  She is still strong, she has walked away, she has left the weak one to fend for himself.  I lay my heavy head back down on the thin, rough mattress and cry some more.

I wake up suddenly when I hear the key in the door wiggling about.  I sit up holding my head which is spinning, hiding my face from whoever is walking in.  I don't look up, I can hardly see thru my swollen eyes anyway.  And I think I've been dribbling also.  I wipe at my face but still don't look up, my head hung low, embarrassed at what they would be looking at.  A pair of shiny black shoes stops in front of my, I'm still not lifting my head.  They don't move, nothing is said so slowly I struggle to move eyes up the grey pleated trousers, pass the shiny black belt, I'm nearly blinded by the crisp white shirt, up to one very angry, disappointed face glaring down at me.   

"Get up arsehole...time to go" he growls at me then turns and walks out.     

Slowly...and with no help I peel myself up off the bed, it hurts worst than the last time I was upright.  All my tantrum throwing injuries hurt really really bad now.  I'm desperate for pain killers and a shower but I'm not game enough to open my mouth at this stage.   He, James doesn't have anything to say to me either.  I just follow him thru the police station and out the back door.  He never bothers checking if I'm following him, he just unlocks the car with the remote and gets in.  I carefully get in, trying not to get any dried blood on the leather interior but also feeling the pain of bending.  I lay my head against the head rest, taking a deep breathe, for once in the last forty eight hours feeling like I can breath.  James reverses the car out fast, hardly stopping at the exit to check for cars that may be approaching.  I can see people all loitering around the door of the building we just left, camera's poised ready for any disgusting photo they can take of me.  The car windows are tinted but I hide my head anyway.  James speeds away.  When the coast is clear I look back out of the window not ready to talk to him or hear what he has to say.  I'm wallowing in self pity at the moment.

I watch the scenery zoom past us, realising we are going back to Jame's place.  A little panic rises up from my chest.  I can't face her, not like this, not today.  I watch James hand press a button on the dash-board making the garage door open.  He drives in fast slamming the brakes on aggressively.  The garage door shuts behind us making it dark, he then turns to me, I cringe waiting for his scolding.  He only says one sentance, not smiling I might add.  

"Go inside and shower, you fucking stink.  I have a phone call to make."

I lower my head like a little child, and cautiously go inside.  I know she isn't here, I know she doesn't want to be around me, but I'm glance around wary anyway.  I put my hand on door knob to her room, putting my ear against it seeing if I can hear her.  It is silent, I then make my way to the spare room, just the same as the last time I crashed here.  Back then I was just too drunk to go anywhere, this time is different, this time I have no choice.  I close the door behind me, sit on the bed and moan in pain as I lift my arms to remove my t-shirt.  I walk into the bathroom, shocked at the sight I see in the mirror.  I can't stand the sight of myself, quickly turning away.  Standing under a hot shower feels like heaven.  When I get out a pair of James jeans and t-shirt is waiting for me on the bed plus all the items that were taken away from me back at the police station.  On the small side table is pain killers and a bottle of water.  I sit on the bed feeling heaps better from the shower, but not feeling any better about the circumstances.  I struggle once again to get dressed, laying back allowing five minutes to let the tablets kick in.  I lift my hands noticing just how many cuts I have on them.  These hands have been my assets in years gone by, this and my filthy mind.  No more but, I can't even stand to think about these hands doing what they did, I'm disgusted at myself and now I can't let that happen again.  Now these hands have to be the ones that only hold her close, they won't touch anyone else anymore but her.  And this mind, my mind, has to think differently, get out of the gutter, start thinking about her more than myself.  

I look at the door not knowing whether to make an appearance, or sit in here waiting for James.  I actually feel nervous about seeing him.  He's been my best friend for so many years, he knows me, he knows my way.  But he is also her cousin.  That is how I met her.  So now will he continue being my best friend or will he just be a person who knew me.  Better get this over and done with I say to myself.  The minute I open the door I can smell pizza and my stomach rumbles.  Slowly I head towards the kitchen.  James is leaning against the breakfast bar downing a beer staring into space.  He looks stressed, unlike me who looks beaten up.   I don't want to surprise him so I clear my throat a little.  He pushes the open pizza box towards me, still not saying anything.  I take a piece and shove it in my mouth, my jaw hurts but I don't care, I'm starving.  I carefully pull out a stool and sit trying not to make any sudden movements.  I still have the bottle of water with me, I couldn't face alcohol at this stage, I doubt I'll get offered one anyway.  The silence is deafening.  James finishes and slams the glass bottle down like he can't be cool about this any longer.

"What the fuck happened Black?" he says almost breaking the empty bottle in his hand, not giving me a chance to answer.

"I didn't want Lace to fall in love with you, I fought you wanting her all year, then I finally accept it and you go and fuck it up?" he yells at me cracking another bottle of beer open, throwing the bottle top lid angrily down making it skid across the table and off the side.  Then drinking nearly the whole lot in one go.  He slams this bottle down even harder, making me jump.  I still haven't spoken.

"You know what? I don't want to hear it, not today.  Your under house arrest arse-hole, you are not to leave here, and I'm warning you to stay out of my way until this all smoothes over...also no one knows where you are...you don't tell anyone or contact anyone, especially any of your sleazy clients.  You get it fucking scumbag piece of shit?" he yells at me.  I just nod and lower my head.  And with that he walks away from me.  Christ he is furious with me.  I'm furious with me.

James has always been protective of Lacie.  They are more like brother and sister than cousins.  Sweet Lacie Gold, my Lacie, the most beautiful girl in the world.  I'm Daniel Black, I'm known to be dark, Lacie Gold has been my shine.  She would tell me that I'm not dark, I light up her life...But now she will only think of me as her dark also.  And yes James did fight it all the way.  From the very first day after many years of not seeing her, she bounced around his house fresh from completing a University degree overseas, ready to start a life here in Sydney, from that very first day my eyes saw her, he had to fight me.  He saw our eyes meet, he saw the instant chemistry, he knew that it was going to be impossible to stop destiny.  When she left that very first day of meeting again he held me by the scruff of my shirt, face to face he spat the rules to me...'one: don't dare touch her...Two: don't dare go anywhere near her...Three: don't dare think of her like anything except a sister...Four: once again, no touching her or I'll kill you.'  I just smiled at him.  I knew she was going to be mine, he knew she was going to be mine, he was never going to able to stop me.  That was a year ago.  I had Lacie Gold for one whole year, the best fricken year of my life.      

An awful silent week goes by.  My injuries are healing on the outside but my heart is breaking on the inside.  Not only did I fuck up so badly that I lost the only girl I could ever love, but I lost the most decent friend I would probably ever have.  James won't even look me in the eyes.  He snaps words to me then leaves the room.  He can't stand being around me.  I have no contact with the outside world.  My phone was smashed to bits during the tantrum, or maybe the fall I'm not sure, but I have no idea of its whereabouts.  There is only one phone in this house, and it's locked in James's office.  I have no-one to talk to anyway.  I think I've watched every movie ever made, sitting all day and nearly all night staring at the t.v.  James has worked from home, going to the office early in the morning, only making an appearance for food, then going to bed early.  I think a week is enough time not to talk to me.  It is Sunday today, surely he doesn't work seven days a week.  He walks thru the lounge room heading into the kitchen, he has just come back from jogging.  I don't get up, staying on the lounge lower than him, submissively.

"Are you ever going to talk to me again James?" I say to him but not taking my eyes off the t.v.  He ignores me and keeps going.  I hear the fridge open and close before he appears with a bottle of water.  He takes a drink standing ready to run from me like usual.

"What do you want me to say Black?"  I know he is still pissed at me because he is calling my by my last name.

"I'm not sure James...do you even want to know what happened?" I say turning my head but still sitting.  

"You had a tantrum...I've seen them before, poor little Daniel doesn't get his own way, so he throws stuff around, I thought you might of grown out of them by now.  Don't worry, Daddy paid the damage for the hotel room and your way out of jail.  But no amount of money is going to fix the shit you've caused Lacie and our family."

That shuts me up instantly.  I've missed her so much, but didn't want her to see me this way.  I want to talk to her about that day.  I want to tell her the truth, I should've told her the truth right from the beginning.  It wasn't like I'm ashamed of what I do, but it takes a lot of trust to accept it.  Something I know Lacie gave me, trust, loyalty, unconditional love, everything.  Jeez she had already given it all to me, and I still wasn't honest with her.  What a fool.  I am the shitty-son-of-a-bitch scumbag she said I was.  I go to throw down the t.v. remote before James speaks up again.

"Don't you dare throw that either...first lesson dickhead...learn by your mistakes, just fucking quit with the tantrums."  Then he walks away.  I put the remote down and lay my head back against the lounge looking up at the ceiling, taking a few deep breathes knowing perfectly well he is so right.  

Another week goes by and now I'm a little stir crazy.  I've been sitting outside in the sun so I'm looking much healthier.  My bruises have gone a ugly colour yellow, and the cuts on my hands have scabbed over.  My foot is feeling better but I think it will take a while to be back to normal.  I've been trying to sort out what I need to do the change my life.  My Dad doesn't pay for everything, matter of fact I get by fine.   He does however pay for things that might affect his own lifestyle, his own important profile, he worries about what the press says, so he pays to have it hidden.   Actually he didn't matter what I did just as long as it doesn't include him, only his high profile as the boss man.  Probably why I went the way I did, not caring, just doing what any red-blooded boy would do naturally.  Rebelling, being angry, aggressive, not knowing how to let out steam, and by then the sort of women he was associated with, the sort of women he was bringing home, started throwing themselves at me, controlling me and naively, thinking with the wrong head, all so easily I became their toy.  They enjoyed my angry nature, being aggressive, they made the most of me taking it out on them.  They got off on it, they liked being my punching bag.  If mum had been around she would of steered me in the right direction, it was Dad that encouraged this behaviour, then having that sort of money thrown at me, I just sat back and enjoyed the ride.  Well I thought I was enjoying the ride.

It ended up being easy getting with women, any women, just as long as they paid me.  Not trying to sound like a big-head but I'm probably considered tall, dark and handsome.  I could charm the pants off women literally.  So by the time I was turning nineteen I was getting paid big money to be the man by whoever's side, whoever paid me the most.  Easy money for me, and easier for them with me just being there when they needed me, not  being owned by a man, just paying me as they go.  At first I always ended staying the night with them, I mean what young horny young man is going to turn down a rich, well maintained woman's body.  I got into the 'it's just fucking zone' never making any attachments to any of them.  Eventually over the last five years it had dwindled down to just three ladies, of whom I only escort function to function, and who have actually become friends, someone I could talk to, not just fuck.  But this last year being with Lacie put a stop to having sex with any of them and made me come home each night after these dates to her, my one and only lover.  These three lovely ladies had become friends, almost mother figures I guess.  I trusted them, and they respected that I was going home to the one I love.  But going home these nights would make me go to bed full of shame.  I would struggle to fall asleep knowing I was lying to the most beautiful person snuggling up against me.  I was sub-consciously waiting for the pin to drop.  And it did.  

I lean forward rubbing my forehead, an instant headache forming just thinking about that week-end.  Unfortunately...one of them, Sylvia, the nicest of them all offered me too much money, and after all it is my job, so I foolishly accepted.  This would be my downfall.   The plan was that I was to spend the week-end with her, then my services were to cease.  Luckily she is moving overseas, she was taking my deceit with her.  The payment was going to be enough to set me up with a house, somewhere I could call my own, something I could share with Lace.  It was deceitful, I know, I wouldn't forgive Lacie if she did that to me, and I'm stupid if I think she will forgive me now.  It went like this:  We spent the Saturday together, she dragged me from shop to shop, splurging her money, expecting me to ooh and aah.  I tolerated this, everything was going well.  Then by Saturday evening she expected me to join her in a kinky little scene in one of the back rooms of a club she is a exclusive member of.  There was a time before Lacie that this would excite me but not now.  So I went along, unhappy about the situation having not only Lacie but the money on my mind.  Before we went in we stopped for a drink or four.  I needed a lot of alcohol to continue, especially when Lacie was texting me while Sylvia sat beside me, owning me.  When I was finally forced to join her in the kinky scene behind closed doors it was as bad as I thought it would be.  I told her I wasn't having sex with her, I was just there to tie her up, spank her with a few things, touch her, make her feel good, give her a few orgasms but strictly with no penetration.  I was to sleep at the hotel with her, once again with no sex involved, then drop her at the airport Sunday for our final goodbye.  That was the deal, I didn't put my cock in her, she wanted it, asked a few times but I resisted, at least this is one thing I can be proud of I suppose. 

I know, I know this is cheating.  But no-one understands that  I had never known any other way, never known any other way to earn money.  James didn't even know how I made money.   He thought I just worked in a bar for fun, and my Dad paid me to keep my distance.  Partially true, my dad does pay me to keep my distance and the bar job was an easy way of getting out at night.  This last time was different but...this last time has changed everything...that was the day Lacie found out what I had done.  And now I've lost everything.