Beneath This Man (This Man 2)

I lower myself quietly onto the top step and watch him through the curving glass that leads down to the big open space. He looks fresh but troubled.

‘I don’t know.’ he says quietly, picking at the fabric on the arm of the chair. ‘I swear to God, I’ll claw their f**king eyes out.’ He moves his hand from the arm and rubs his eyes. ‘I’m close, John. I really need it. Fuck, it’s a mess.’

Oh God, am I pushing him towards drink again?

As if he’s heard my silent question, his eyes flick up and find mine. I shift uncomfortably on the top step as he studies me. ‘See what you can find out, John. I won’t be in for a few days…yeah, thanks, big man.’ His phone slides into the centre of his palm, but his hand remains by his ear, his elbow resting on the arm. I feel like a complete intruder.

He sits in his chair and I sit on the top step for the longest time, just staring at each other through the glass. I have no idea what to say to him. He looks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders. Should I go? I know that whoever has spiked my drink has probably made my life a million times more difficult. I wanted to prove that he was being unreasonable with his over-the-top protectiveness, but now I’ve just made it one hundred percent worse. He’s never going to let me out of his sight.

As I’m contemplating my next move, he rises from his chair and starts walking towards the bottom of the stairs. I follow his slow climb up until he’s standing a few steps below me, looking down at me. What is he thinking? His expression is flicking from anger to sorrow, back and forth, and his frown line looks like it’s been set in place for a long, long while.

‘If you are going to shout at me, then I’ll go now.’ I say through the dryness of my throat. I don’t need Mr Neurotic on my case. I just want to forget about it and think myself lucky that it wasn’t worse. It could have been so much worse.

‘I’ve shouted enough.’ he replies, and I detect the hoarseness of his own voice. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Fine.’ I rip my eyes away from his magnets and stare down at my bare feet. I’m naked except for my black lacy underwear, and I feel small with him towering over me like this. Uncomfortable.

‘Ish?’ he asks.

‘No, fine.’ I sound stroppy.

He lowers himself to his knees a couple of steps below me so we’re on a more equal level, but he still looks down at me. He plants his hands on the top step, either side of my body, and I glance up from my feet to look at him.

‘I’m crazy mad, Ava.’ His voice is soft.

‘I wasn’t drunk’. I affirm sharply. Damn it! I wasn’t even remotely drunk.

‘I told you not to drink at all. I knew I shouldn’t have let you go out.’

‘I’m curious as to why you think you can dictate what I do.’ I challenge bravely. ‘I’m a grown woman. Do you expect me to live a life with you where my every move is controlled?’ My voice is quiet, but firm through my dryness. He has to see my point.

His lips form a straight line and I can hear the cogs start whirling into action. ‘You are mine.’ he grates. ‘It’s my job to keep you safe.’

I drop my eyes on a sigh. Yes, I’m his, but his objectives with regards to keeping me out of harm’s way are too ambitious. ‘You said you were close. Close to what?’ I pull my face up.

He searches my eyes. He must know that I heard. He looked directly at me after he uttered the words. ‘Nothing.’ he answers.

‘Nothing?’ I can’t help sounding disbelieving. ‘You want a drink, don’t you? That’s what you need to deal with this f**king mess.’

His eyes widen. ‘Will.you.watch.your.fucking.mouth!’ he spells out the words. ‘We’re in this f**king mess because you went out and completely defied me.’ He pushes his face up close to mine. ‘We would not be in this situation if you’d f**king listened to me.’

‘I’m sorry!’ I spit angrily. ‘I’m sorry for not listening.’ I stand up, leaving him kneeling on the stairs. ‘I’m sorry if you feel the need to drown in vodka because of me! I’m obviously bad for your health. I’ll put your out of your misery.’ I pivot and stalk into the bedroom, physically shaking with anger. I heard with my own ears his confession to John. If I go he’ll probably have a drink and if I stay he will also probably drink. I’m between the Devil and the deep blue sea. Why can’t he see that it’s his own unreasonable expectations that are pushing him to complete madness, not me.

‘Crazy mad, Ava.’

I turn and find him stalking towards me with a face like thunder. I back up slightly, and then mentally curse myself for not standing my ground. He stops in front of me, his chest puffing, breathing his minty breath all over me. ‘Kiss me.’

What?

‘No!’ I cry incredulously. The bloody man is deluded! He gives me a royal ticking off for disobeying him, and then starts making more unreasonable demands. I’m not kissing him.

His eyes darken and narrow. ‘Three.’

He must be joking. ‘Are you mad?’

‘Crazy f**king mad, Ava. Two.’

He is completely serious. Oh my God!

‘One.’ he whispers. I scan the doorway past him and disregard that option completely. I’m not getting past him, that’s for sure. ‘Zero.’

Fuck!

I bolt across the room and over the bed. It’s no surprise that I’m captured and pinned under him before I make any significant distance. I’m on my back with my arms pinned above my head with one of his. His jean clad leg rest over my thighs, restraining me. I’m completely immobile and exhausted from trying to break free. You would think I would have learnt by now. I pant in his face as he breathes down on me, tracing the line of my stomach with his finger, and then up the centre of my body to my mouth. He rests the tip on my bottom lip before letting it travel back down my body. The bastard is unleashing that craving for him again. It will never go away.