Chapter Two
Oscar had treated her to dinner in his ever casual manner of wings and chips in a local bar. Freya didn't drink...she'd never really got to the getting drunk and falling over stage in her life, or rather she'd flown past it, somewhere between being a teenager doing her Masters and diving headfirst into a gigantic research project. She couldn't remember the last time she'd spent more than four days out of the lab. As it was, she'd left her workspace five days ago, and it was still no more comfortable, no easier than the first days she'd paced her rooms at MIT before being forcibly and humiliatingly ejected.
So after a couple of beers at her brother's insistence she had been fit for her bed...and now, the following day, she had the headache from hell. She could barely walk across the room, but she managed it. Checking her toiletry bag for some pain meds, she groaned as found none. She had no idea where the nearest pharmacy was, yet she was struggling to keep her eyes open, focus, function to work that out.
Pulling on her college sweater, or rather one that she'd been given by a colleague, a student who was on the baseball team, she made her way rather delicately to the house looking for her brother. Knocking the door seemed to bring no joy, so she realised she'd have to make do with copious amounts of water, and a darkened room back above the garage. She'd taken three steps away when the door creaked slowly open and a deep voice called to her.
"Wicker...what's wrong?" It wasn't her brother. That made her sigh.
Freya half turned, "nothing." Her own voice made her grimace. "Sorry. Got headache. Looking for Oscar for some painkillers." Her words were hushed and clipped.
As she made to continue her trip back to her apartment, he called to her, "I've got some. Aren't mine good enough?"
A shrug was all she could offer, she felt as though her head was about to crack open. She needed to rest.
He laughed, "all this from a few beers?" Again she shrugged, "come in. I bet you haven't got anything for breakfast either?"
She shook her head, the thought of food made the bile rise in her throat. That made him laugh and he pushed her by the shoulders to the work surface, pulling out a stool for her.
Reluctantly she sat. "Oscar?" She asked, struggling to form a sentence. "Don't want to bother you."
He laughed, "he flew to Manhattan this morning. Be back in a day or two. You're stuck with me."
When she groaned he laughed again, "here have these." He handed her a couple of white pills that he'd extracted from a blister pack he'd found in a cupboard. "Ibuprofen, water..." He watched her take them obediently, then turned to the fridge once more.
Freya watched as he put some bread into a toaster, then poured a large glass of tomato juice. He added a few ingredients; she couldn't tell what, to the drink then handed it to her.
"Drink it, all in one." When she grimaced he pushed the glass towards her, "do it."
Lifting the glass she tried not to gag as she let the drink pour down her throat. When she placed the glass back down, he was laughing, presumably at her expression. She hated that and was about to flee at that moment when he reached out for her arm.
"Have some toast, line your stomach. You'll feel better." When she eyes him suspiciously, he laughed again, "I'm something of an expert. Ok?"
Half an hour later she was back in her bed, hidden away from everyone and everything. And she stayed there for most of the weekend, with only her hangover and self pity for company.
Coop had run until his lungs burned, but still he couldn't clear his head. He wasn't sure why, but he'd been feeling rather guilty since Oscar's little sister had left his home a couple of days earlier with the hangover from hell. She was new to town, and he'd ignored her, left her to her own devices. That wasn't exactly fair. Other than providing a hangover remedy, Coop hadn't seen Freya since the day she'd arrived, and the shocked look on her face as she'd watched the scene of him chasing the almost naked Mitzi across the ground floor of his house had stuck with him once he'd brought her down a peg or two, then searched and found the damned woman buried under the pillows of his bed. That was why he never invited women into his life, their ability to induce guilt. He didn't commit to the women he slept with, and he didn't invite them into his home often. Mitzi had only been there because Krystal had brought her over looking for Oscar. The blond had flirted outrageously, and neither of them noticed Oscar's girlfriend leave.
Then Oscar himself had returned with what appeared to be the most naive, innocent and terrified woman he'd ever set eyes on, who hadn't appreciated the performance playing out in front of her. He felt as though he'd corrupted her, exposed her to something beyond her experience. Which was ridiculous she was in her mid twenties.
And he didn't owe her anything.
He sighed, no, he wasn't obligated to act a certain way around her, in front of her. She was lucky that he'd agreed to let her stay at his home. He did what he wanted, he lived alone, he slept with whoever he wanted, he slept when he wanted, and he walked around butt-ass naked when he felt like it too. He had no consideration for some preppy and prudish girl. It was her problem to get over, not his.
Nope, he didn't owe her anything, but what he did know was that he recognised the pain and the desperation in her eyes. He'd been in the same position in the past, bewildered, lost, and desperate. He didn't know what had gone wrong in her life, but he knew that her world had crashed around her ears, much as his had a few years earlier. But helping her meant getting involved, and he wouldn't do that. He couldn't. He wasn't that man.
But as he ran up the hill to the beauty spot overlooking Lake Michigan, once again her haunted eyes haunted him.
Damn Oscar for doing this to him.
"How was your weekend?"
Freya had wallowed in self pity for too long. She could moan and whinge about how hard her life was, but it wasn't, not really. And as she looked up from her position slumped on the sofa to see her immaculate brother lounging against the doorframe, she knew she had to pull herself together. She hadn't showered for a couple of days, and she'd slept in the clothes she wore.
On a positive note she'd read four novels, she hadn't had the time or mental capacity to read a book in SO long, that it felt as though despite outward appearances she had achieved a lot. So she felt a little resentful when she saw the condescension in her brother's eyes.
"Good, reacquainting myself with the real world. It's been a long time." She pointed at the stack of books on the table. "My reading list has been growing for years. Now I'm attacking it."
Oscar laughed, "trust you to be the only person in the world without an e-reader."
"Something's are better the old fashioned way."
He laughed, "want some dinner? My treat. Got a proposition for you."
Half an hour later Freya was as glamorous as she could be. She had one decent pair of jeans and a t-shirt that didn't predate her six years at MIT, Oscar was used to dining with women who spent hours primping themselves in the mirror. His eyes widened as she walked back into the lounge and she lifted an eyebrow.
"Not glam enough for you?"
That made him chuckle, "you are my sister, I'd take you out in your pj's if that's what you want."
She grabbed a pair of Converse and tied the laces as she asked, "so where are you taking me?"
"A restaurant I like hanging out in, I thought you might like to meet Krystal, my girlfriend."
She glanced up and grinned, "this is the FIRST time you've ever introduced me to a lady friend. Is this serious?"
He shrugged, "she's a cool girl...and you're not exactly flushed with mates in this area. You're different you and her...but who knows..."
Freya looked at the woman sashaying through the tables in the small diner towards them and hid a groan, 'different'? The woman heading their way, beaming with happiness as she stared at her brother was a tall slim woman with platinum blond hair cut into a short pixie style, and she was wearing a black dress that clung to her curves. Her black five inch heels only added to her sexiness, her vivaciousness. Freya had never felt pressure to be anything other than she was until that very moment. She'd always been comfortable in her skin. She had no interest in fashion, she'd never worn a pair of heels, and she didn't shave her legs in the winter...and rarely in the summer. But Krystal, this woman was almost intimidating by how beautiful she was, and well dressed, and groomed, and glamorous.
"Wow, you must be Freya!" Suddenly the woman was there in front of them and ignoring Oscar. "I'm Krystal."
When Freya offered a hand, Krystal giggled and pulled her into a hug.
"I have heard SO much about you. I've been dying to meet you. And you're so cute in the flesh."
Oscar coughed, "is this love at first sight?"
Krystal turned to him and the look on her face told Freya JUST how much she worshipped her brother, "no darling boy, but this is the woman you have compared everyone else too..." She turned back to Freya, "I know that Oscar is a man of few words, but this man thinks the world of you."
Freya looked at him and grinned when she found him blushing, "aw big bro, that's just TOO sweet!"
"Well...erm..." Flustered, he directed them to the table and sat down. Freya sat opposite him and studied the two of them. Krystal ticked every box that she imagined her brother had for a woman in her life. And she enjoyed the interactions between the two. Krystal clearly had Oscar entranced, as she spoke, he watched her lips move, his hand under the table was on her thigh, or rather that is what Freya presumed. For a moment she was happy to observe, and it was a few moments until she realised they were both waiting for her to speak.
"Sorry..."
Krystal smiled, "I just asked how long you were staying here. Oscar said you were leaving your place at MIT."
Freya gulped, so far she'd been able to avoid sharing any details of her fall from grace, she didn't want her brother to look at her as the loser she was. After all she'd given up her childhood to move rapidly through the academic world, her family had sacrificed everything for the chances she'd had. And it was all over, in a heartbeat.
Taking a deep breath she smiled, "I'm not sure, on either point. I guess I finally had enough, I mean I want a life, there are so many things I've never done." Avoiding the truth was her only defence.
Oscar stared at her, "but you LOVE it, since you were a kid, you loved science and maths and...everything."
She nodded, "but I'm twenty seven years old and I've not had a holiday in almost ten years, I've not seen you or my parents in almost five years...and I leave a place after the same five years with just one person I can call a friend."
"Sounds lonely."
She nodded, "it is...it was. I need normal Oscar, surely you can see that?"
When he nodded too she breathed a sigh of relief. An in house scandal from the institute was likely to become headline news if people found out about it, so she was safe for a little longer, as no one wanted that kind of publicity. And there was an element of truth in all that she'd just said, she was watching life pass her by, and she knew it was time to get off the merry-go-round. Find a life in Civvy Street.
They ordered food as Krystal answered her questions, telling her all about her life, her job as a dancer, her modelling and the town she called home. When Freya looked up, it was to see Oscar beaming at the two of them, pleased that despite being so polar opposite, the two women who were now in his life were getting on so well.
The bar was busy for a Tuesday night; Coop didn't work there much, not in the evenings. He took the day shifts predominantly, it meant he could do other things at the same time, interview staff, liaise with breweries, and then the nights were his own. Plus the nights were busier; it made sense to pay staff at the times when he was making the most money. But tonight he was working, mainly due to the no show of one of his newer members of staff.
"Shit boss, you're looking about as happy as me!"
He glanced up, taking advantage of a rare quiet moment to see Natalie further along the bar serving as he was. He smiled, she was a godsend, in a bar that became more than rowdy as the hour grew later, she was invaluable. Her jet black short hair, gothic make up and tattoos put off even the most ardent customer; she was intimidating when she needed to be.
Unfortunately at thirty two, just a couple of years older than him, she'd needed to be. Brought up in care, she'd one night confessed to him that she'd been abused by her step father before running away from home. After many broken years she now shared an apartment with a friend and the four children they had between them. Her roommate worked days, and Natalie worked nights. Between them they had a happy home life. But it hadn't always been like that.
She'd been desperate when she'd approached him for a job four years earlier. She was crass, almost rude in their interview. But he saw something in her, gave her that chance, and soon came to realise that her rudeness was defensive, her crass behaviour bravery. But his git instinct was right; she embraced hard work and was his most valued member of staff.
But despite that he wasn't about to share his demons with her. "New staff not showing for work, old staff being nosy, loving my life Nat."
She laughed a deep husky sound, "contrary bastard."
He nodded, not arguing, he was that. "You know how it is."
She gave a slow knowing nod, "that I do."
It was over an hour later before they had another hint of a quiet spell.
"So I hear you've got a house full these days Coop."
Coop could barely lift his head to gaze in her direction, "you could say that."
"Big deal for someone like you."
He nodded, that summed up Natalie. She knew he had darkness in him, because she did too, she saw the signs. And she knew that keeping people distant was the key. She had for years...and so had he.
"Not up to me anymore...life's not my own!"
She laughed at that, "don't let them compromise you. Not sure I can tolerate working with a grizzly bear every night."
A grunt met that comment, "going to get more beer from the cellar."
In the silence of the basement, he slumped against a wall. Why was he feeling like shit? He sighed, since the moment Wicker's sister had set her big innocent eyes on him as he chased Mitzi across the house he'd sensed the same darkness in her. He'd got rid of Mitzi immediately after that incident, despite her protests that they 'could be so good together'. He'd been straight with her; he had no intention of this going anywhere else. She knew that is was a one time thing, Coop was famous for not committing to anything, and he made sure that the women he met knew that. He hadn't thought beyond the here and now since similarly big innocent eyes had looked at him as though he was the centre of the universe. And that had ended in purgatory. He had to get Freya to move on. Whilst she lived under his roof nothing was safe.
Dragging a case of beer to the bottom of the stairs he put her out of his mind. She wasn't about to make him question his life, no one could do that to him. Taking a second case, he hooked one in each hand and headed back to the bar. Once he'd refilled the coolers, he moved to the back of the bar and took out his phone. Flicking through his phone book, he smiled when he saw a number there.
He thumbed a quick text.
"At a loose end. You in later?"
Davina. No hassle, no pressure, and she wouldn't expect him to stay the night. That was what he needed, normal life to resume.
As he turned back to the bar to serve some of the obviously still thirsty patrons, his phone beeped, and glancing at it he grinned to see a short but direct message.
"Already in bed. Back door unlocked, xxx"