Been To Hell

Chapter 19: Me and the Devil Blues.

I stood in the mirror of the bathroom, brushing my long dark hair with some blues playing off of my phone on the stereo system in the main room. I've always had a thing for Robert Johnson and his songs like Hellhounds on My Trail and Cross Roads, as well as Me and the Devil Blues. I hummed along to the bluesy song, brushing my hair slowly. I was in no rush. I was only getting ready for bed. I stood in front of the mirror in a pale pink silk nightgown that had thin lace straps and linen. It came down to my mid thighs and left very little covered on my chest.

Goosebumps rose up on my skin when I felt a pair of arms snake around my waist. I could only see the tattoos on their arms. My heart throbbed and a smile crossed my face. I stopped stroking my hair with the brush when I felt a pair of lips touch the nape of my neck. I could see the jet black hair.

"Patrick, what are you doing?" I giggled flirtatiously. I grinned at the feeling of my fiancé's lips on my skin. I let my head fall to the side to bare more skin to him. My eyes closed when I felt his hands travel down my front and hike up the bottom of my gown. A shrilled sigh fell from my lips when his cool rough hands slipped into my underwear. I bit my bottom lip and let my back fall into the large mass standing behind me. I couldn't feel what he was doing, I could only feel the sensation of his magical touch, pulsing through my body and making my knees weak. My breathing became heavy pants; it made his other hand run up to my chest to grope me through the silk nightgown. I let out a loud moan of pleasure and involuntarily opened my eyes.

Everything inside of me dropped into a black hole. I shot upward in the bed, gasping in surprise. The darkness blanketed me but I could see dawn breaking over the horizon, greying the sky and making it various colours like a misty blue that darkened into the navy colour of night. My entire body trembled underneath a thick sheen of sweat.

"It was just a dream." I breathlessly told myself. I reminded myself that bad dreams can't hurt you. That's something my mom used to tell me when I was little and I'd wake up in the middle of the night crying because of a nightmare. I had to remind myself that it was only a bad dream.

 My heart stopped when I remembered what I saw before I woke up from the bad dream, I remembered what I saw that made me realize it was a bad dream. I saw piercing blue eyes staring at me in the mirror from underneath frazzle black curls. It wasn't Pat that I dreamed of, it was Matt. I had a wet dream about Matt. That's just fantastic! I'm assuming I had it because I was mad at Pat for sending Matt on tour with me. It didn't make any sense, Matt had a clothing line to start up with my fiancé and he agreed to come on tour with me instead. But at the same time, it did make sense. Pat wants to see if I will sleep with Matt and cheat on him, and Matt wants to ruin my relationship with Pat; neither of which are going to happen. Not now, not ever.

I sighed and raked my fingers through my hair, using the black elastic to tie it up into a messy bun. I could tell we were already in Birmingham, Alabama, probably not at the bookstore yet but it can't be too long now.

I got up off of the bed left the back room, passing through the bunk area to go to the main area. It was dark in the bunk area and the main room but I was used to doing things in the dark. I put in a new coffee filter and the grounds into the coffee maker before filling it with water and flipping it on to brew. My heart started gunning it when I saw a large black mass move out of the bunk area. Instinct kicked in and I grabbed the metal thermos off of the small cluttered counter, whirling around to swing it at whoever was behind me now. My actions were stopped midair by a large hard gripping onto my wrist tightly. I stared wide eyed and the large body who just chuckled at me.

"Easy there, girly. You don't wanna hurt your groupie." Matt commented, releasing my wrist. My arm dropped down to my side after placing the thermos back where it belonged. I growled lightly and rolled my eyes.

"You're not my groupie." I harshly informed him in a low voice. He shrugged and stood in front of me in the small space.

"I could be your groupie." He replied with a wink. I shook my head and puffed myself out a bit to make myself look bigger, almost like a warning to back off.

"You aren't ever going to be my groupie." I snarled at him coldly. He chuckled again and moved from in front of me to the leather couch beside the counter.

"Okay, you could be my groupie then." He acted as if this were a joke. But I wasn't thinking this was much of a joke at all. I was annoyed by him. I was annoyed that he still thinks that I'm in love with him.

'But you are.' I mentally told myself, but I slapped myself in the face mentally afterwards. I had to remind myself of what happened between us. All of the shit and all of the drama that went down for a year before I finally had enough and threw in the towel, which was followed by another six months of him trying to win me back.

I crossed my arms over my chest, thanking God I wore a tee shirt instead of a spaghetti strap, I didn't need him thinking I was dressing sexy just for him. My eyebrow cocked slightly and I glared down at him.

"You listen to me, and listen well: Pat is oblivious to your little game and its plot. I'm not. I know exactly what you're trying to do. Let me tell you something –it's not going to work. Nothing is going to happen between you and me. Pat sent you here to work for me. You're basically my slave until Pat needs you back in California."

"I don't mind being your slave, Bow. You know that." He commented, winking up at me cockily. I slapped his hand away from me when he went to place his hand on my hip. I could tell he'd try and slip his hand up the short leg of my pyjama shorts. Believe me, I know Matt. He seemed a bit offended that I knocked his hand away from me.

"Touch me again; I'll break your hands." I warned him brutally. I didn't want to deal with Matt alone so I went to go back to the back room and lock the door until someone else woke up or we arrived at the bookstore. But before I left the main area and went into the bunk area, I stopped and turned on my heel to face him again.

"I am getting married to Pat in six months, not to you. I love Pat, not you." I reminded him then went to leave.

"Is that why you were moaning my name in your sleep?" He caught me off guard with that question. I hadn't realized I was sleep talking again. But what disturbed me more was the fact that he was listening, how loud was I moaning?

I turned to face him once again. I knew I was wide eyed and my jaw hung down a bit. He got up off of the couch and towered over me, baring his pale blue eyes down onto me.

"Because the last time I checked, his name was Pat not Matt, unless you two do this whole kinky role play thing where he pretends to be me just so you can be satisfied knowing that you got one last fuck out of me. But let's face it, Bow, he will never make you come like I did. You can try and replace me with a look-a-like but it's not me. You can never possibly love him like you love me." Matt's tone of voice wasn't harsh or hard, it wasn't mean. It was like he was telling me things I already knew, a part from the whole role play thing. We've never done that. My heart was being torn to shreds but my head was telling me that he was right. I knew he was right.

I stared up at him with tears in my eyes, a lump formed in my throat but I stood my grounds like the warrior my mother raised me to be.

"I don't love you." I sneered at him strongly, my voice was low but it was like a brick wall. Matt's mouth curled in one corner and he shook his head down at me.

"Yes you do." He said. "–You look at me the same way you've looked at me since day one." I didn't know what to do. What do I do? What does someone do when they're cornered like this, when so much is at stake because of a random chain of events leading up to this moment?

I swallowed down hard and glared up at him, knowing what exactly to say to leave me alone. I wanted to hurt him with these words. I wanted to kill whatever love he has for me. I want him to suffer like I did, like I am.

"And you still look at me like you did the day you decided to rape me."