Twisted Fate (Fortitude Memories) Read online

  When I follow her fixed gaze, I see muscles galore walking in and out of the gym.

  We perch ourselves at a table by the window so we can see everything that’s happening around us, and I mean everything. From the old guy walking by picking his nose, to the young couple all loved up and holding hands. It’s those sights that make me sigh and think I’m going to like it here.

  Nyla and I are chatting about me getting back to work when a darkness blocks our light in the window.

  “Has night come and we’ve missed some hours?” Nyla sarcastically says.

  I giggle because I love her more than anything, and she knows how to make me laugh just when I need it. We both look out at the reason for the darkness, and we no longer have a perfect view of the street. The guy I saw staring at me on moving day is right there. Up close and personal with nothing but a thin pane of glass between us.

  “Es, darling, you’re drooling.”

  “I am not. Stop being dramatic.”

  “Esme Lewis, there is no shame in drooling. Just own it, for God’s sake.”

  I’m about to carry on defending myself when Nyla’s attention is focused elsewhere, and it’s not on our conversation. She’s practically frothing at the mouth over this one dude who’s just walked in, and he’s matching her lustful eyes, too.

  “Oi, you’re taken, remember? Behave yourself and drink your coffee.”

  “Well, Muscles there hasn’t stopped staring at you, either. Did you not notice, or are you blind?”

  “Not blind at all.”

  That’s not a lie, either, I can’t stop lusting over him; he’s pure perfection. Pull yourself together. It’s probably my emotions being all over the place causing such conflicting behavior. Yep, I’ll go with that. I look back up and he’s still staring at me, but now he knows he has my attention, he gives me a smile. There is something magnetic about him that makes me do the opposite to what I want. Like now, he waves while walking away, and I return the gesture.

  “Esme, you’re flirting.”

  “No, I am not.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re allowed to flirt, Es. It’s not wrong, you know, and don’t let me hear you say it’s too soon, either.”

  “Well, it is too soon. It’s been fourteen months now, but Jesus, Nyla. I keep expecting them to show up and start telling me how the apartment is all wrong and to get back home. It still seems surreal. How am I supposed to move on and act like they were never here?”

  I try not to let the tears fall, but they do every time I talk or think about them.

  “No one expects that. You’ll always act like they’re there. It’s how you operate, Es.”

  I know she’s right.

  I will always be thinking about them in decisions I make, even when I know they would probably not agree. It’s good to know I can still think about what they would think, as one day, their advice may be what I need.

  “Okay, fine. You’re right. Now, can you shut up about him, please?”

  Nyla shuts up, and we finish our coffees in a comfortable silence.

  The rest of the week comes and goes quickly with no issues. I’ve worked out my route via the subway for work, and even though I’ve always taken public transport, right now, I’m a little apprehensive. I know it will pass, eventually. I don’t want to keep feeling like this, but until they find the bastards that killed my family, I don’t think this fearful, jumpy feeling will rest. Over the past week, I’ve finished unpacking, except for a few shelves that need putting up. Lance informed me the guy who owns the building is quite the handyman and is always happy to help residents. I decide to wait a little longer for those; there’s no rush. It’s Friday morning and I need a few items from the store, so I quickly run over there as it’s a few units down from the coffee shop. I can’t be bothered to get changed, so my fat pants it is. I look like your typical bed-head mess, but I don’t care. This is me, unless I’m going out or to work. I run down the stairs for a change to burn off the calories I’ve been binging on lately. I round the corner, slamming straight into the muscles from the gym. I jump back on instinct and apologize profusely.

  “Oh, God. Sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” I look into his eyes, and butterflies form within my tummy. He really is beautiful. I'm brought back to reality with what I can only describe as arrogance and totally not what I expected.

  “Okay, well, maybe slow down a little on the stairs. You could seriously injure someone at that speed!” He looks me up and down, and I’m unsure if he’s appalled at my dress sense or if he’s checking me out. Looking back into his eyes, I see a glimmer of heat, but it’s gone so fast that maybe I wished it. He starts to brush past me, but I think fast this time.

  “Wow,” I mumble under my breath, a little taken aback at his sharpness. “It was an accident, but point taken.” I walk by, shaking my head to myself. I thought he might have been a nice guy.

  When I walk back in, he’s in the foyer, talking to Lance. I curse under my breath and make sure to avoid eye contact as I walk toward the elevator. But no, it’s not going to be that easy.

  “Hey, you okay after our bump?” I don’t know if he’s concerned or being sarcastic. The elevator doors open, and I step inside then turn to face him.

  “Yes, thank you,” I reply and the doors close, but the fiery look in his eyes doesn’t go amiss. I’m quite proud that I didn’t give him a chance to reply, but my body is tingling, and these feelings are alien to me. I’d never felt anything like this with my previous boyfriend Lucas, so why him, a total stranger?

  The rest of the day passes quickly and then Nyla arrives. She helps me with my hair, and it looks amazing. It’s gone from its usual dowdy brown straight look to natural loose curls.

  “Nyla, it’s fantastic! I love it. Your talents are wasted.”

  “Oh, please stop. I love my job, you know that.” She winks at me.

  I laugh because I know exactly what she means. She’s incorrigible. It’s why I love her. She’s also the yang to my yin. We’re more like sisters than best friends. If I need her, she’s there, and vice versa.

  “You ready to go, Nyla?” She seems to be taking forever in the bathroom.

  “Yep, I’m coming. Just finishing my lipstick.”

  And out she comes, looking stunning as usual with her flowing red curls. God, I’d love to have her hair. My brunette color seems bland compared to hers.

  We walk to the club since it’s only two blocks away, and Nyla notices I’m clutching her hand tightly.

  “Hey, it’s okay. I promise,” she whispers.

  I know she believes we’re safe, but I scan every person I see to make sure they aren’t heading our way or giving off bad vibes.

  “Thanks,” I say, squeezing her hand.

  The fresh night air helps to calm my nerves as we walk. Just before we get to the club, a fight breaks out between two guys outside a shop. Panic swells inside me and it’s almost overwhelming, so I turn to head back home.

  Nyla tugs me back. “Calm down. It’s fine, look…” And as I look, the guys are fist bumping each other.

  “I’m sorry, Nyla. I don’t think this is a good idea, after all. It’s too soon. I’m a bag of nerves. Just look at my hands.”

  “I will not give up on you, okay? I get that it seems too soon, but you’re strong, Es. Besides, what are you gonna do at home? Oh, that’s right, you’d sit there watching Netflix shit and stuffing crap down your throat. No. Not happening on my watch, lady.”

  “Nyla.”

  She holds her hand to my face, as if to say shush. “I want my best friend to find peace, and I believe she will eventually move on without feeling guilty. So, here’s a compromise. If you give it a try and you want to leave later, then fine, but give the place a try first, okay?”

  I wrap my arms around her and kiss her cheek. “Okay, I’ll try. I promise.”

  I can hear the loud chatter as we round the corner from the line of people waiting to get in. I’m confused as Nyla walks on past th
e line to the doorman. He smiles and lets us straight through. This doesn’t go down well with the other partygoers who are waiting, especially the females, whose snide comments I hear as we enter.

  “She’s obviously sleeping with him if they get to walk in without waiting,” one says, so I turn to see exactly who she is. She talks trash and looks like it too. She gives me a look that could kill, but I just give her a smile and follow Nyla into the club.

  The club is amazing. It’s dressed in exquisite reds and blacks, and the glass dance floor is huge. I look around and notice there are two floors, but it must be private upstairs as there is security at both ends of each stairwell.

  “I wonder what’s up there that’s so private,” Nyla says.

  “Oh, no. Forget whatever idea you have. We’re here to enjoy ourselves, not get kicked out within the first five minutes.”

  She laughs at me. “Calm down. I’ll be good, I promise.” I look at her and decide to get a drink before she wanders off on a mission of her own. I grab her hand, and we make our way to the bar. I jump every time I hear a glass bottle being thrown away by the bartenders.

  “Hey, you okay, Es?” Nyla asks, looking concerned.

  “Yeah.” I look over to her, but she knows me too well.

  She entwines her fingers with mine and squeezes them. It’s her way of saying, I’m here. You’re safe.

  The bartender comes over to us and looks Nyla up and down. “What can I get you beautiful ladies this evening?”

  So, in her best southern drawl, which she uses when she wants something, Nyla replies, “What’s on offer this evening?”

  “It’s right in front of you, honey,” he replies with a smirk.

  Nyla leans over to him and whispers in his ear, then he quickly disappears.

  “What are you saying to him?”

  She gives me a wink. “Trust me. The drinks are coming.”

  I wonder what she said to him, but when I think about it, I actually don’t want to know.

  He’s soon back with two cocktails. “These are on me, ladies,” he says, before giving Nyla a wink and scurrying away. We find a table to stand at and take in the surroundings while sipping our cocktails. There are lots of groups of giggling girls who aren’t wearing much and are leering over men when they pass.

  Nyla looks at me disapprovingly. “You’re judging again. Your eyebrows are raised and your lips are slightly puckered.”

  “Moi? Never,” I tell her, chuckling.

  Nyla drags me to the dance floor as our favorite song, The Pussycat Dolls’ Don’t Cha comes on, and we dance as if we’re teenagers again.

  Half an hour later, we’re still dancing when I see a group of men laughing. I realize it’s gym guy—whom I’ve decided to name ‘Smiler’—and his friends. I turn to Nyla and point to the ladies’ room, letting her know I need a break. We go freshen up, and I see Smiler has disappeared. On route to the restroom, I bump into someone, and I’m knocked straight on my ass.

  “Shit,” I mutter. When I catch my breath and look up, it’s him again.

  My cheeks flush with embarrassment, and I try getting up to no avail. He puts his hand out, and I look at him for a second before I finally get to my feet. He has a smirk on his face, so I fire at him, “Well, you could have apologized for knocking me over.”

  He just looks at me with that damn smirk. “Maybe you should look where you’re walking instead of staring down at the floor, then perhaps you won’t find yourself on your butt. Although, I’ve got to say, it was a great view from up here.”

  His friend approaches and slaps him on the back. “Easy, Reid. It was an accident. Let’s go.”

  What the hell? First in the stairwell. Granted, that was my fault, and I apologized, but this time, he can take ownership. I look at him, unsure if I want to scream at him for his arrogance and rude comments, or kiss his gorgeous lips, which would be so inappropriate. Damn, what is wrong with me? My hormones really are doing a number on me. So, I do what I do best and walk away.

  Nyla pulls at my arm and whirls around towards my ass bruiser.

  “You’re a real jackass, you know that?” She berates him before dragging me along to the restroom. “That asshole. Who does he think he is, speaking to you like that?”

  I stand there, flushed, and it then dawns on Nyla.

  “You like him, don’t you? I knew it.”

  “I don’t even know him. How can you say that? But he is freakin’ hot, and have you seen his muscles?”

  She bursts out laughing. “Well, when you look at it like that, yeah, he is, but he’s fucking rude and arrogant.”

  Maybe that’s what’s drawing me to him. The bad boy image.

  We dance for another two hours, then I decide it’s enough. It’s only one a.m. and Nyla thinks I’m being a lightweight. She comes up to my apartment with me, making sure I’m okay.

  “I’m proud of you, Es. Going out there tonight and moving here is a step forward in your recovery. You got this.”

  I’m still unsure about being alone, so when Nyla leaves, I get locked up for the night. I’m nervous, but I have to keep doing this.

  Chapter Three

  I hear a commotion outside and whisk the covers over me in the hope they’ll protect me. My body is trembling from head to toe. Pulling back the covers slightly, I hear the disturbance is still going. I remember one of the apartments having some sort of party when I arrived back. Maybe it’s that I hear. I walk into the sitting area where voices are louder; there’s something about one of the voices. My chest tightens with fear because I’m wondering, how the hell did anyone get inside past security?

  When I’ve determined that the noise isn’t in my apartment, the trembling and tightness starts to subside enough for me to get my bearings again. Grabbing the nearest thing to hand, which happens to be a slipper, I make my way to my apartment door. I look through the peephole, and I see Smiler with a couple of teenage boys who I know live in this block. They’re having a heated discussion. I unashamedly listen.

  “Jesus, I said no parties, not in this building, especially when you’re all underage drinking,”

  “Sorry, Reid. We just wanted a bit of fun while the folks were away. You know how it is, right?”

  “I don’t care. You know the rules, now go pack it up.” And they scurry off into an apartment opposite mine.

  Curiosity has got the better of me, and I open my door a little and peek out. He spins around on hearing the door creak and gives me his signature smirk.

  “Go back inside. There’s nothing to see.”

  I move out from behind the door a little. “It didn’t seem like nothing.”

  Feeling his scrutiny reminds me I’m wearing very thin pajama shorts and shirt; they don’t leave much to the imagination. I quickly move back behind the door, and my nipples harden at the thought of him. I notice his eyes are not on my face.

  “Is it really necessary to stand there and ogle me?” I ask him.

  He chuckles. “What’s a man supposed to do when it’s in front of him? Look, you’re right, I am ogling, but would it help my defense if I told you I’m mesmerized by your beauty?”

  I’m floored by his words. Has Mr. Arrogant got a nice side to him after all?

  “These kids were partying, and we try to keep the building a safe place, so I’m sorry if they disturbed you.”

  “Erm, okay. Well, thanks for that.”

  This is turning out to be a weird conversation.

  “Night. Esme.” And with that, he’s gone.

  It's Sunday morning, and my last day off to sort the rest of my crap before I have to go back to work. Then I remember that I need to tackle the laundry room in the basement. It creeps me out having to go down there. Firstly, I need my favorite caffeine rush to wake me up. I enter the coffee shop and order my usual vanilla latte. The barista calls my drink out. I grab it then, as I’m leaving, he walks in. Like a gent, he holds the door open for me and waits for me to pass. But in true Esme style, I’m too taken
by his looks, so instead of looking where I’m going, I forget there’s a step and start to fall to my fate. Damn this man and the unexplainable effect he has on me. I can’t even say why. He’s not my usual type at all. I mean, he’s so full of himself. But these butterflies in my stomach keep coming each time he’s around. Smiler reaches for me, but in doing so, he manages to grab my wrist and pulls me back up before I hit the floor.

  “Easy, tiger. You okay?”

  I tug my wrist from his grasp, but it’s too late. The flashback has started.

  Visions of the tattooed wrist on my bedroom door handle, and then being dragged into my room.

  “NO. NO!” I scream out.

  Only, I’m yelling out loud in the coffee shop. I look around. The faces staring at me are confused by my outburst. I flee from the coffee shop real quick, my latte splashing to the floor as I escape to my apartment. Running as fast as I can, I fumble with my keys to get in. I bolt all the locks when I’m safely inside. My body slides down the wall then succumbs to rocking back and forth, trembling all over. Uncontrollable tears flow, followed by the pain of memories that refuse to leave.

  Gunshots. Screams. Blood.

  Constantly on repeat over and over in my head.

  I don’t know how much time has passed when I hear knocking at my door. I’m frozen to the spot. The knocking carries on for a few minutes, then whoever it was stops.

  My phone immediately rings, and it’s Nyla. I continue to let my phone ring off over and over again until I see I have fifteen missed calls, and I can’t ignore them any longer. I pick up, but words don’t form in my mouth.

  “I’m coming. Hold on, Es.”

  She knocks, but I hear more than her voice outside. I crack open the door slightly, and she’s there with Smiler. This time, I’m not greeted with his signature smile. He looks concerned. I turn away, embarrassed. He must think I’m one hell of a lunatic.