Thursday, 17 October 2013

Her Bad Boy (Chapter 8)

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Her Bad Boy
How does a girl cope when her twin flame is the definitive bad boy? (18+ Erotica)

Chapter 7 | Chapter 8: The Rat Pack

Daylight had slowly dawned over an horizon masked behind the hospital building’s Georgian façade, as Stephen stepped outside for some fresh air. The A&E's sliding glass doors closed behind him. A light mist hung onto the morning. Rain was to come.

He yawned, his breath turning white from the cold. His stomach gave a low growl, and he wondered whether Sally had eaten. Should he call somewhere and get some breakfast delivered for them both?

As if on cue, his mobile phone rang.

He took his phone out from the front pocket of his jeans, and looked at the number on the screen. With a look of surprise, he took the call. “It’s not like you to be calling at this time of the morning,” he said.

A gravely male voice barked into his ear. “Did you forget you had a pub crawl planned with this old barracks buddy of yours yesterday?”

With everything that had happened last night, it had slipped his mind to ring Kevin and let him know he would have to miss their pub farewell. But why would the man be calling him at this early time of the hour?

Kevin didn’t wait for a response. “Where the fuck were you last night chum?”

“And a good morning to you, too, Kev.”

He heard his mate’s laughter on the end of the line. “Up the skirts of some lass you found at the fairground, no doubt. Well get yourself untangled and get the fuck over here.”

“I can’t. Something has come up. I’ll tell you when I see you.”

“Aye, I can guess what that something is right enough. Well just put it back in your jeans and get over here pronto.”

“Not now I can’t. What’s the matter? You missing me?”

“Like I’d miss a hangover. We got to talk.”

“I’m listening.”

“Face to face.”

“Then it’ll have to wait, Kev.”

“This is serious, man.”

So he’d figured right that indeed something was up. “I thought there had to be something more than you missing my voice. You in trouble?”

“Nothing like that.”

“Kev, I am tired, and starving. Now stop messing me about and just tell me what’s so important you felt you had to call me at this hour, will you?”

“I just got a call from the boys. They want to see you back.”

Stephen didn’t skip a beat. “That part of my life is over,” he said. “Tell them I said so.”

“Be realistic, man. This is Kevin you’re talking to, remember? That part of our life is never over.”

Kevin was telling the truth. Stephen couldn’t deny the fact he had never known any other life but the military one. Civilian life was alien to him. “I’ll adjust.”

“Don’t bullshit me. Like I have, right? Ever since I came off active duty I’ve got the shakes. Plus you know for a fact that no one ever really accepted your resignation. They’re counting it as extended leave. Now the boys are coming home and they want to see you back.”

“So the boys are coming home...” Stephen let that one sink in. British troops had numbered in over 130 bases when he had first been sent to Afghanistan. By the time he left his last tour, they were down to five, preparing to be reduced even further.

The boys are coming home. They had begun their final mission as the 7th Armoured Brigade - the Desert Rats - in the last sizeable British force to be sent to the Helmand province in southern Afghanistan. If his old team was coming back soon, it meant a complete shut down in operations was near.

“All the Rats are coming back to the pack,” Kevin said, chiming his thoughts.

“Not all,” he replied quietly.

“More than would have done if it wasn’t for you, mate. You’ll always be our team leader. I for one owe my life to you. If you hadn’t refused to believe I was dead and come back for me-”

“Forget it. Besides, who else was going to smuggle in good single malt whisky?”

“I’ll have you know it was strictly for medicinal purposes. As a medical intern we were taught about ethanol. Being intoxicated helps you with trauma.”

“I guess if you’re shot under the influence it might help. But not if you need to shoot straight.”

Kevin let out a deep laugh. “How about that time a village police officer came to the base and we put some in his tea? He could hardly walk, but boy could he sing.”

Stephen smiled, despite himself. “You did that you mean. It was all I could fucking do to avoid an international crisis the next day.”

“You always had our back. Why do you think the boys want you back leading us? We don’t run and don’t quit, remember?”

Don’t run, don’t quit, and pray for the luck of the angels.

“I know the motto, man. Is this why you invited me up to Scotland, Kevin? Did you lot plan this all along? To try and persuade me to go back?”

“I swear I had no idea.”

“You all know the reason why I quit.”

“Look, it’s over. Focus on that.”

“Now who’s bullshitting who. You know it’s never over.”

They both fell silent with their memories. Stephen blinked hard against the brightening sunlight. Progress always came at a cost. Images filled his mind. Of dancing in the village streets when the Taliban saw the British withdraw. Of the five British soldiers killed in the first four years of the Afghan intervention. Of the hundreds that died since. Of soft-beret brigades in mourning. Of friends lost. Of betrayal in the black of night.

Kevin spoke up. “I don’t know how we made it back that night from patrol. We really did have the help of the angels,” he said.

“Don’t start that again.” Out of nowhere, or so it it seemed to Stephen, his strange dream suddenly popped into his mind. How she had held his hands. The light that had hummed. He couldn’t erase the images.

It was just a dream.

“I know what I saw,” Kevin said.

Stephen turned back towards the sliding doors of the A&E. “Mate, if you start with that shit again, so help me I will sign off. All respect to your beliefs, but it’s too early in the morning to listen to you go on about angels.”

Kevin was stubborn. “I know what I saw.”

“Where were the angels for the other four hundred and forty-five that died?” He had that number etched indelibly in his mind. With every life they lost in the forces, the resulting optimism he’d met from his commanding officers had felt like a slap to the face. He didn’t want to hear talk of angels now.

“We did make a difference. You have to believe that.”

“Sure. We gave them the freedom to grow more opium and export it as heroin to our country.”

“Come on, man! What about the girls that can go to school freely now? We have given them things not possible under the Taliban.”

“Look you’re right, Kev. I don’t mean to knock your enthusiasm. Really I don’t. I fucking respect how you can still have yours intact. But what do you think is going to happen once all our forces disappear from that godforsaken landscape?”

Stephen knew that as international forces drew down and ended the war on a timetable, nothing was really going to end. If there was one thing the army had taught him was that volatile regions had a history of upsetting the best-laid plans. He knew that soldiers would always be on a call of duty, and he didn’t need to have Sally’s brains to know that.

“Look, Kev, how about we argue this over a pint later on? I have to go now. Talk later.”

“Hang on, what gives? What has got you so wound up, man? If it isn’t pussy holding you up so early in the morning, it must be serious.”

You have no idea. “I’m at the general hospital.”

“What happened? You need me to come over there? I’m coming over right now.”

“It’s not me. It’s Sally’s young brother.”

There was a moment of silence down the line. Then Kevin said, “I thought that was all over?”

“So did I.”

“Well I’m glad you’ve fucking come to your senses over that lass at least. You’d have to be really blind not to see she’s good for you.”

“Too good for me. But am I good for her?”

“Why don’t you let her worry about that?”

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that in as many days,” Stephen said.

“Who from?”

Oh, just some nice but weird fortune teller lady in my dream, that’s all. “No one you know.”

“You even sound different, man... Is Sally’s brother going to be OK?”

“She’s been with him all night. I haven’t spoken to her yet, but fingers crossed he is going to be OK.”

“You need anything?”

“Now that you mention it, do you think you could get some breakfast delivered to the A&E? For two. I could eat a horse.”

“Say no more, bro. I’ll bring it over myself. What do you want?”

“I’ve always wondered what you call a full English fry-up in Scotland?”

“We call that a snack, mate! See what I can do. Be there in ten.”

The line went dead, and Stephen put his phone back in his pocket with a small smile. He didn’t know about angels, but good friends was something he could believe in.

Right time for a piss. Then it was back to waiting for news from Sally.

The sliding glass doors swooshed open for Stephen, as he strode into the waiting room area, looking for the green sign to the toilets.

There had been a lull in the emergency room in the past hour, but now a cacophony of sounds accosted him. The emergency room had come back to life with the approaching light of day. In a far corner, the low volume of the waiting room TV permeated the hushed voices of people talking. Somewhere a wheelchair squeaked; he heard an intercom calling out codes, the chatter of cleaning staff spraying down surfaces, the clack of a keyboard as he walked past the A&E's reception cubicle.

The receptionist from the night before called him over. “Hey, love. She hasn’t come down yet. You good?”

“Yeah, thanks. Could you just keep an eye out for me a while longer?”

She nodded, understanding. She pointed to the left. “First door. Little boys room.”

“I’ll only be a moment.”

“Listen my shift is nearly over. I want to say that I hope everything goes right for the both of you. Not many men would have kept vigil like you, love.”

“Do you think you could do me one last favour?”

“Sure. What is it?”

“A friend is coming with some breakfast. Do you think you could make sure she gets it?”

“I can do better than that. I’ll get you in to give it to her yourself.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble.”

She waved his concerns away with a hand. “Don’t you worry yourself over that. I’ll even get Tony to escort you. That way no one will ask any questions. And it’ll give you a chance to make friends. Isn’t that right, Tony?”

Tony shifted his huge frame from where he had been standing, listening. He crossed his hands and grunted.

“I’d be grateful Tony.” Stephen held out his hand in a show of good will. Tony hesitated at first, before warily taking Stephen's hand in a brief, firm handshake.

The receptionist looked pleased. “Good.”

Stephen gave her his most winning smile. “What would this place do without you?”

Her cheeks blushed pink. “Get away with you, go on.”

“Won’t be long.” Stephen followed her directions, found the door of the toilets and opened it. The strong smell of pine and lemon hit his nose as he walked in and made his way to the nearest urinal. He unzipped. Exhaled. Ignored the sound of the door opening behind him, until a female voice questioned him.

“What are you doing here?”

He recognised the voice immediately. Daisy. Shit. What perfect timing.

He relaxed and began to relieve himself in the urinal. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“I thought you’d gone.”

“As you can see I’m still here. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to take a leak in peace.”

“We had a deal.”

“We had no deal. I just went along with you,” he said.

Daisy bit her lip. “I thought you wanted to break it off. Stop messing her about and leave her alone.”

Finished, he gave a shake and zipped himself up again. “People have been telling me I should let her make up her own mind about that.”

“You’re no good for her.”

Turning away from the urinals, Stephen walked over to the opposite side of the room to the sinks. “And you are, are you? What makes you such a fucking expert on what’s good for her?”

“I’m her friend,” she said.

“Some friend. You’ve been on me from the first day I met Sally,” he replied, turning on the taps and letting the water run through his hands. “The only reason I haven’t told her about the antics you pulled behind her back is because it would hurt her.”

“She wouldn’t believe you,” she said quickly. Too quickly. “She deserves better than you.”

He washed his hands under the running water. Splashed cold water on his face. Pushed his hands through his hair. Avoided the mirror. “She deserves better than either of us. But I can’t help that. I accept that I was a fucking idiot for going along with your idea in the first place, thinking it was an easy way out. What’s your excuse?”

“You’re no good for her, and I am going to prove it,” she whispered, coming up behind him. He felt her put one hand on the crotch of his jeans, and start to rub him, slowly. “You and me are too much alike, Stephen. You like?”

Stephen remained still. He closed his eyes. Another time, another place, in another world his cock would have been rock hard by now. She was ripe for fucking. But all he could see was the way Sally had looked at the fairground as she confronted him about finding him in bed with Daisy.

My bed, you bastard. I love Daisy, but I wasn’t in love with her.

He could hear her voice, remembered the hurt in her face as he had replied with some foolish remark.

Was in love with me? Was, and not is, meaning not any more? That’s too quick even to be corny.

He had been wrong, though. Now this, he thought, this was corny. “We have nothing in common - except Sally,” Stephen resisted the urge to slap Daisy's hand away from him. “You couldn’t get me hard before, you’re not doing it for me now,” he said.

“You bastard,” she spat.

He shrugged her off and made his way towards the door. Daisy turned to face him, her hands behind her back, leaning against the white ceramic basin of the sink. “You men are all the same,” she said, unable to completely hide the anger in her voice at his rejection.

“Don’t you think we owe it to Sally to be there for her and not get into this right now?”

“She doesn’t need you.”

“That’s not for you to decide, is it? We were both stupid trying to deceive her the way we did. You trying to get me to fuck you, and me pretending I could even entertain the idea.”

“You’re telling me it never even crossed your mind?”

Stephen paused, then said. “From the moment I saw Sally, she was it for me. You have to believe that.”

“Sure...” Sally brought her hands to her chest, grabbed her tits in an air of what she thought passed for seductiveness, and started to lick her lips. She removed her top. Unclipped her bra. Threw it at him. “You going to tell me you don’t want this? Just lock the door and come here. Who will know?”

“You’re meant to be her friend,” he said. “But you have some balls, I’ll give you that. What do you have over Sally that you think she’ll forgive you whatever you do?”

She dropped the act. “You don’t understand a fucking thing. You have no place in our lives.”

“Haven’t we hurt her enough? I’m not about to try it again. So if you’re worried I’m going to tell Sally about you, you have nothing to worry about. She’s going to find out about you sooner or later. One day you are going to go too far.”

“I just saved her brother’s life,” she said almost defiantly. “I look out for her. You’re going to piss off one day. It’ll be me that has to pick up the pieces.”

He caught the slim flicker of fear in her eyes. But no remorse. “Look, I’m not saying we can ever be friends, but we should try to get along for Sally’s sake.”

“She’ll never forgive you for getting into bed with me.”

“We got into bed, that was it.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

“We never did anything. It was all a game, Daisy. A stupid game of yours that I went along with because it suited me at the time. You need to get that through your head.”

“She’ll never trust you again.”

“We’ll just have to see about that.”

“What if I told her we did sleep together? Who do you think she’ll believe?”

“That sounds like blackmail to me. Do what you like. I’m not going to stop you.” He reached for the door handle, wanting to get out of there before he lost his temper and did something he’d regret.

“S-Stephen, wait.”

“What now?”

“What does she have that I haven’t?”

He looked her up and down. Picked up her bra from where it had fallen and threw it at her. “In a word? Class.”

Daisy looked as though she had just been hit in the face. “Why you fucking bast-”

But before she could finish her sentence, he swung the toilet door open and walked out. It slammed shut behind him, hard.

End of Chapter 8 | Read Chapter 9

Yours in love,

Mickie Kent