Shameless [Nathan Lloyd]

"Yeah, well, your 'grown up' got herself totalled on vodka last night and has a massive hangover today."

"She did?" he sounded disbelieving.

"Yeah. She was trying to tell me something, I think."

"Like what?"

"Don't know. I'll talk to you when you're back. Maybe she needs to speak to someone."

"Like... a psychiatrist?"

"Maybe. Anyway, I have to go, I've got a yard full of clients and Colin's not in the office today."

"Okay, chill, bruv."

"You too."

After I ended the call, I added Vince's number into my phone. I could always tell him we'd changed our minds about renting out the room if we didn't like him.

And if Asha likes him and you don't?

Tough. My name was on the lease.

* * * * *

By lunchtime, Ash had her head on her desk, a glass of water and a packet of painkillers just in reach of her outstretched hand.

"You look like a crime scene photo," I said as I walked past her desk to check on the customers who were wandering the yard.

"I feel like it," she said.

I put my hands in my pockets and glanced back at her. "Have you learnt your lesson?"

She shook her head, rubbing her face against the desk pad.

I turned back to the glass and watched a couple circle a Toyota. She hated the colour. He hated the car. Probably not going to make a sale on that one.

"Hey, did I say some weird stuff to you last night?"

I turned back to her. "Yes."

"I didn't mean any of it. Please forget I said anything."

I walked over to her desk and sat opposite her. "Only if you promise if you need help, you'll ask for it."

She sat up and looked at me. "What do you mean, 'help'?"

How to say this. "I don't know much about your past with your birth parents, but if bad things happened... you know you can talk to someone about it."

"Someone?" she said.

"Yeah. Like, a professional."

"A professional." Her voice was dull. "Yeah, okay. If I need help, I'll go talk to a professional."

"Cool."

I got up and stretched. The couple in the yard had moved onto an i-series BMW. She liked it, he liked it, but I could see they didn't have the budget.

I went back to my office and left the door open so I could see into the showroom. It was pretty clear Ash wasn't going to be doing anything useful for the rest of the day.

* * * * *

We grabbed fish and chips on the way home and sat in the lounge to eat. Ash had perked up as soon as work ended, leading me to believe her hangover was mostly her adapting to the idea of actually working for a living, rather than an alcohol-induced malaise.

She ate with gusto and then went hunting through the cupboards.

"Where's the vodka?"

I pretended I didn't hear her, and a moment later, she appeared in front of me with the empty bottle.

"Did I drink all of this?"

"Looks empty to me," I said. Not technically a lie. She narrowed her eyes, but took it back to the recycling bin.

I shifted in my seat to watch her hunt through the kitchen, looking for, presumably, something else to drink.

"What are you doing?"

"I just want... I dunno. I want something to drink."

I got up and went into the kitchen and leaned on the bench with my arms folded, watching her turn the cupboards upside down.

"Is there a reason you think alcohol will appear in the pantry?"

She paused her trash-panda activity and looked up at me. "You always used to stash booze."

"I told you, I don't do that anymore."

She wilted.

"But I'm curious as to why you're suddenly acting like a veteran alcoholic."

She put a hand to her head, the other on her hip. "I don't know. I'm just stressed."

I know a really good way to relieve stress.

"Want to watch something?"

She gazed past me. "What about a swim?"

I looked at her as if she was crazy. "It's not that warm yet!"

"I don't care." She gave me an alluring smile.

"How about you swim, and I... don't."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Old grumpy pants."

She headed for the stairs.

"Why do you keep calling me that?"

She paused. "Ty told me it'd drive you crazy." She threw a wicked glance at me over her shoulder and jogged up the stairs, presumably, based on the temperature outside, to get changed into a wetsuit.

It was a nice enough evening that I thought I'd sit outside while she swam and surf the 'net, even if it was too cold to swim. And maybe perve at her in her bathing suit.

I dusted off an old plastic lawn chair and set it by the pool.

Asha appeared a few minutes later, dressed in a black and white zebra-patterned swimsuit. When she got into the water, I saw they'd apparently run out of fabric halfway through its construction. The back was a bikini bottom and a piece of string that held the front part in place.

She stepped onto the first step and shivered.

I looked up from scrolling. "You don't have to swim."

"I want to."

I shook my head and went back to my phone. A message came up. It was from Stella.

'I need 2 c u'.

I considered it. Could be Paul, realising his wife wasn't an English major. Could actually be Stella.

'Do you think that's wise?' I texted back.

Dots winked across the screen.

'Im afraid for Pauls anger'

Yeah, that felt more like Stella. I dialled her as Ash launched herself into the pool.

"Stella?"

"Nathan!" She started crying.

"Hey, hey."

I got up and walked into the front yard, away from the pool and Asha's hearing.

"What's happened?"

"Paul found my messages to you. He accused me of being in love with you, of wanting to end our marriage. He said I was a terrible mother."

There was anguish in her voice.

"Stella, you're not a terrible mother."

She sobbed harder. "He said if I leave him, he will send me back to Russia. That I'll lose my son."

What a prick. I wished I'd punched him now.

"Listen Stella, he can't do that. Even if you divorced, he can't stop you seeing your son."

"Are you sure?"

No, actually, I wasn't. I left that one alone.

"Do you want to leave him?"

She was silent for a moment. "I love my son. And Paul is a good husband."

"So don't divorce him. Problem solved."

"He is talking of divorcing me!"

I shook my head. "He's just scaring you. You're the best thing to ever happen to him. You're way out of his league. But I can understand him being upset that you've been cheating on him. You get that, don't you?"

She sniffed. "Yes."

"Why'd you do it?"

More sniffing. She blew her nose. "I am not attracted to him. He is a good husband, but he is so..."

"Bland?" I offered.

"Bland?"

"It means boring," I said.

"Yes," she said. "Boring. In bed."

Aha. So, she probably hadn't found his hentai collection.

"If he's boring in bed, it's probably because he thinks that's what you want. Trust me, anything you do with me, he'd love to do with a double scoop of icecream on top. Not, literally," I added quickly. "Or, maybe, I don't know."

She thought about this and blew her nose again.

"What I'm saying is, your husband would love to bang you however you want to be banged. You just need to talk to him. If you want to make this marriage work, give him a chance to make you happy. And if it doesn't work out, then maybe talk to a lawyer about what would happen with Marcus if you got divorced."

She sniffed. "Would you help me if I wanted to leave him?"

Ah, HELL no.

"Try and make it work," I said. "And so you know, I don't sleep with married women."

Unless Paul made more of a dick of himself, in which case, he'd get what was coming to him.

"All right." She sounded weary.

"I know marriage is hard, but you owe it to yourself to at least try and make it work."

She sighed. "I will speak to him."

"And if he threatens you, call the police. Okay?"

"All right. Thank you, Nathan."

"You're welcome. Take care, Stella."

I hung up and found Ash watching me quizzically. "I know marriage is hard," she mimicked. "What qualifies you to give marriage advice?"

I headed back to the pool. She was standing at the shallow end, shivering. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders. Her lips were blue.

"Ah, you seem to have hypothermia," I said.

She stepped out of the pool and wrapped a towel around her shoulders. "The water's still quite cold."

As she stood there, dripping, smelling faintly of chlorine, I realised that I wanted her. Really wanted her. Wanted her the way Paul wanted Stella. It wasn't love, exactly. I wanted to... possess her. I wanted her to belong to me.

I had an urge to put my arms around her and warm her, to tell her to go inside and take a shower, then come back and sit on my lap while we watched movies.

Wanted to take her to bed and fuck her for hours, her eyes on mine. I wanted her to think about me and no one else.

Not just because I wanted to fuck her, but because I wanted her to cheer the fuck up and get over whatever was bothering her.

I shivered, and realised the sun was going down and it really was getting cold.

Ash just stood there, freezing her ass off, as if daring me to say something.

I shook my head and went inside, leaving her to decide if she wanted to freeze to death or not.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 11

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monday night. Ty had said his new friend 'Vince' would be turning up tomorrow night.

As maddening as I found my pull towards Asha, I wasn't sure I wanted him to turn up before I'd done something about it.

Since we'd moved, I hadn't been to the gym and I knew if I didn't get back into a routine, I'd lose condition. I sat in the lounge, trying to decide if I needed an early night, if I was going to get up at six, when Ash came downstairs dressed in a robe.

As far as I could tell, she wasn't wearing anything under it.

She'd had a shower, and her hair smelled of shampoo. And she'd put on that damn perfume again.

She sat beside me on the couch, oddly solemn.

I flicked through the content on screen while I tried to decide what to do, and after a while, she took the remote from me and sat it on the opposite side of her.

"Would you like to talk, Ash?"

She gave me a pensive look. "There really isn't anything left to drink, is there?"

I shook my head. "You could go buy something."

"Would you drive me?"

I shook my head.

She gave me an injured look. "You know I don't have my licence."

Actually, I hadn't known that.

"Didn't Stefan or Dylan teach you to drive?"

"Yes. I mean, I have a licence, I did learn how to drive. I just... don't have it... right now."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "You lost it?"

"Yeah. Just speeding, but... I can't drive."

"Then I guess you might have to have a sober Monday night like the rest of the working community."

She stared sullenly past me into the darkening front garden. "I wanted to talk to you."

I sighed. "You can talk to me sober."

She transferred her gaze to my face. "What did I tell you last night?"

"That Dylan hates me."

Her brow furrowed. "Did I say anything else?"

I shook my head.

"I just... last night I dreamed something was after you." She said it half to herself. She looked up at me. "Something's going on in this house, isn't it? You can't deny that."

I looked around. "It's an old house. I'll admit, it's given me some surprises, but I think it's just old. Drafty window frames and door sills, old timber, creaks when it's hot, creaks when it's cold. Probably full of possums and rats and bad wiring... from the possums and rats."

"So you don't really think anything is here?"

I gave a short laugh. "No. Not really."

She gave me a penetrating look, as if she really wanted to say something but couldn't quite bring herself to.

She gave a small, frustrated sigh and rested her head back on the couch, so that her hair tickled my arm. She turned to me, shifting so that our knees were nearly touching. The scent of her perfume came to me as she moved.

"You know how Dylan feels about you..."

I snorted. "Everyone knows how Dylan feels about me."

"Yeah, well, before I moved in here, he gave me a speech. About you."

"Oh yeah?"

"He said you were 'predatory' and that you viewed women as meat."

I scratched my ear. "Okay. Seems like he saw right into my soul."

She laughed. "I told him you weren't that bad. That you were just compensating for not having a dad of your own."

I gave her an amused look. "Compensating?"

She smiled. "I don't mean it like that." She rested her cheek against my arm. "I always thought you had the potential to be a good guy. If you could just remember women existed when they weren't in front of you."

Oh, she had no idea.

"And I don't just mean when you're masturbating."

Okay, so she had some idea.

"I mean, I think you have a screwed up relationship with women because you don't have good relationships with anyone. Your guy friends are all fuckboys like you, and you only spend time with women to sleep with them."

"At least I have friends," I said, then instantly regretted it when her face fell.

"I don't think you do," she said seriously. "I think you're as alone as I am."

"What gave you the idea I'm lonely?"

She shook her head. "I didn't say you were lonely. I said you were alone. I think you being lonely would be an evolution for you."

I took my arm back and stretched. "Well, as fun as this conversation is, I'm going to head to bed."

She watched me go with a touch of sadness in her eyes.

* * * * *

It was too early to actually sleep, so I lay on my bed, my arms folded behind my head, thinking about Stella's predicament. On the one hand, I hoped she could make it up with her husband, because I honestly wasn't sure she wouldn't be deported if they got divorced.

On the other hand, I was never going to get to fuck her again. And that was a true tragedy.

My hand strayed to my cock, and before I knew it, I was remembering my last night with Stella, those red, red lips.

I heard Ash come upstairs an hour later and go into her room. My light was already off and I was on the verge of sleep when I heard a knock on the door.

I said nothing, figuring if I pretended to be asleep, she'd go back to her room.

The soft knock came again. Still, I said nothing.

My phone lit up as a text came through. I picked it up and checked it. It was from Ash.

'Is that you in the hall?'

Okay, that had to be a joke. I lay still, listening.

The knock came again. Only, not from where you'd expect an adult to knock on a door. It was much lower down. Almost as if someone was rapping their knuckles on the bottom of the door.

'Nate??'

Something moved in front of the strip of light that ran under the door.

I texted her back. 'I'm trying to get an early night. Not in the mood for jokes.'

Her text came back in real time. 'It's not me!'

It had to be her. Quietly I got out of bed. Sneaking was nigh-on impossible—every part of the floor in this house creaked—but I did my best. The strip of light blacked out and reappeared as the bulb in the hall flickered on and off.

I grabbed the door handle and wrenched it open.

There was no one in the hall.

My phone beeped.

"Yes, I'm in the hall!" I said out loud. "And I want some sleep, okay?"

I heard her bed creak, then movement across the floor in her room, and finally she opened her bedroom door. "It wasn't me."

She looked genuinely afraid. But I wasn't fooled. I'd seen this girl lie bold-faced to Cara about what she'd been doing on dozens of occasions.

"Seriously, Ash, I really need to sleep. I want to get back to the gym tomorrow."

She put her hands up in an angry shrug. "I'm not doing anything!"

I folded my arms. "I'm going to ignore any more noises, okay? Don't text me. I need sleep."

"It wasn't me!"

That perfume wafted around her and an urge came to me to grab her, to spin her around and slap her ass.

Realising my annoyance, mixed with her perfume, was starting to turn me on, I turned my back on her and went back to my room.

I took my baseball bat out of the wardrobe and rolled it under the bed where I could reach it, and turned off the light.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 12

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke, groggy and dehydrated at 1 a.m. and went downstairs to get a glass of water. Near the bottom of the stairs, a thump from the kitchen made me jump. I stood still, listening. There was a creak, like someone putting weight on a loose floorboard. A big rat?

This house needed its floor re-nailed.

I put one foot onto the bottom step and the sound came again, this time from the end of the hall. I could see the end of the hall where it opened up to the kitchen. There was nothing there. Well, no one there, at least.

I started towards the kitchen and froze as heavy footsteps started in the open doorway. They thudded straight past me and disappeared into the games room. The door to the games room slammed shut.

I stood frozen for a long, long time. There was no way this house was haunted, because ghosts didn't exist. But what the hell else did you call that?

An animal under the house?

Maybe.

Sound transference through the ceiling—sounds like it's downstairs but it's not?

Maybe.

Someone outside? You should probably look.

I pulled open the door. Trees swayed in the moonlight, but there was no sign of anyone. I shut and locked it again.

Just the wind.

Grasping at straws, now.

We're living on a hellmouth?

The light over the stairwell flickered and I realised if it went out, I'd be left standing in the dark. I got a glass of water from the kitchen and jogged up the stairs, leaving the hall lights on as I walked down to my room.

As I passed Asha's door, I paused and listened. There was no sound. I put my ear to the door and heard a soft hush of breath. Sounded like she was out for the count.

From below, the kitchen door slammed.

Fuck's sake.

At least we hadn't pulled a ouija board out. Although, knowing Ash, she probably had one in her room somewhere.

I went down to my room and turned on the light, shutting the door behind me. I turned on the lamp next to my bed and stood by the main light switch, debating where or not to turn it off. I must have stood there for ten minutes before I decided to do anything else was to admit I thought something weird was in this house.

I flicked the light off and sat on my bed in the lamp's glow. The house lay in silence.

I pulled my shirt off over my head and then tugged off my jeans. I left on my underwear in case I needed to get up again in a hurry, and got under the covers.

* * * * *

Half an hour later, I was tired enough that the lamp was annoying me, and I hadn't heard anything more. I switched off the light and fell asleep.

BANG!

I jolted upright as the door to my room flung open. It bounced off the wall and juddered in place. I fumbled under the bed for the baseball bat and slid out of bed. I stood in the dark, bat at the ready.

"What the hell?" Ash flicked on the hall light and appeared in the open doorway rubbing sleep from her eyes. "What's going on?"

I flicked on the lamp beside the bed and she noticed the baseball bat. She was instantly on guard. She looked around and backed into the bedroom, keeping an eye on the hall. She looked ready for a fight. Except for her printed pajama bottoms, which were decorated with fluffy bunnies.

"What happened?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Come over here," I said.

She did, her forehead creased with concern. "Is someone in the house?"

I looked at her closely. If she was acting, I couldn't tell.

"Maybe."

She stood beside me, just a guy in his underwear holding a baseball bat, and a girl in bunny pyjamas.

There was a sound in the hall.

I was pretty sure I wasn't going to find anything, but having Asha there made every male protective synapse I had fire.