But when she left the booth with Brad and Marius and I watched her dancing with them I felt a lightning strike of jealousy rip through me, something I’d never felt before. After a few songs of absolute torture, I grabbed Hailey and dragged her to the dance floor with me, wanting just to be near Cadence. But she turned away from me each chance she got. It made me really wonder, is there something going on with her and Marius? Since the day he drove her home, there’s seemed to be a closeness between the two of them, and she jokes with him and flirts with him when she’s always careful to keep me at arm’s length.
At least I could understand when it was with Brad and Marius, but then when the fuckhead came up behind her, it almost killed me to watch her lean back into him, letting him grind against her and her reaching up to touch him. Hailey had watched me seethe and held me back, telling me I had to let her do what she wanted.
But then, when it seemed like she didn’t want his advances anymore, and was trying to get away, I couldn’t get to her fast enough. We’d drifted a little way from the group and hordes of people were in the way when I tried to get to her. I keep playing that image in my head of him yanking her by the hair back and striking her across the face with his backhand. In that moment I could’ve died. Or sold my soul to the devil to let me relive that moment, only this time, I would have gotten to her in time.
She had been so limp in my arms, so small and helpless. I wanted to breathe life back into her, back into the woman I first met in the shop, ranting and lecturing me, the woman in the music class room, her face lit up with pride, the woman in rehearsals, lost in the passion of creating music – not this battered, injured little bird in my arms.
When I went back to the club, the guys had dragged the asshole out to the side alley and were teaching him what happens when you hit women.
Marius held him back while Brad was letting out some repressed anger. When they saw me, they’d each taken an arm and waited. Watched me take my belt off and wrap one end around my hand. They knew what was coming, and there wasn’t an ounce of mercy for anyone who got what they deserved if I’d decided they deserved it.
“Do you think hitting a woman who doesn’t want your sticky, dirty fingers on her makes you a big man?” I’d come up close to his face, and asked him; his stinking breath making me disgust with him even more.
He’d just whimpered.
“Well, it’s not. It makes you a small, small man. A small tiny man with a teeny weeny, shriveled chicken dick. One that’s going to shrink up into your body and take a long, long time before it’s going to want to come back out again, when I’m done with you.”
I’d raised my hand over my head.
“Sebastian. Don’t.”
A voice had spoken up.
It was Dennis.
“She wouldn’t want this.”
“She didn’t want him either, and look what happened,” I turned around and reminded my manager.
“So, how does that make you better than him?”
I replayed the moment his hand had hit her and the way she’d crumpled to the floor. And I wanted to hurt him, have him crumple to the floor as many times as it’d take for me to forget that moment.
But it wouldn’t ever be enough.
“Let him go, guys.” Dennis had said to them. And they’d hesitated.
“Tell ’em, Sebastian.” It took a moment, but I’d lowered my hand and nodded.
He’d fallen to the ground, sniveling, hugging his side from the gifts Brad had lain on his body.
“Come on,” Dennis’ hand was warm and firm on my shoulder and he’d led me away.
And now we were here.
Me watching over her and wondering if I was ever going to get over the guilt.
***
“Sebastian?”
A soft voice speaks my name and I lift my head from the side of the bed. Her eyes are opening slowly and she tries to move.
“Hey, you… don’t move. Can I get you something?”
She clears her throat gently, “I’m a little thirsty. Where am I?”
“You’re in my bed.”
“Oh. Well, was it as good for me as it was for you?”
I sigh softly and smile, glad to see some of her spark back. “It’s always good for me, Cadey, even the times it’s so good you can’t remember them.” I get up from the chair by the bed and she makes a soft noise. “What’s wrong?” I turn back to her.
“Um, nothing, just… um… don’t leave,” she says in a small voice, as if embarrassed.
“I’m just going to get you some water… then I’ll be right back. OK?”
“Ok,” she says softly and I squeeze her hand to reassure her.
I grab a bottle of water and a straw from the drinks cart and come back to the bedroom.
Her breathing is soft and steady again, and I guess she’s fallen back asleep. I tiptoe out only to hear her call out to me.
“I’m not asleep, don’t leave, please.”
Her vulnerability breaks my heart. How could anyone do this to her?
“Hey, don’t worry, I’m right here.” I sit back down and hold the bottle for her to take a drink. She takes a small sip and lies back, as if exhausted by the effort.
“Seb?” It’s the first time she’s ever called me by my shortened name.
“Yeah?”
“Can you… can you play something for me?” She asks me shyly.
Oh my god. Yes, sweet angel. “Oh, of course, why?”
“It, um, it just comforts me.”
“Sure, anything in particular?”
“No, you pick. You’ll know what I want better than I do.”
I grab my cello and sit back down. She smiles at me and then closes her eyes, settling down deep into my bed.
I pull the bow across the strings, my hands already knowing what I want to play.
“How ’bout this one?” I play each note slowly and deliberately, letting each sound linger in the air and soak into her bruises and wash the hurt away. She smiles and nods, eyes still closed. Halfway through the song she opens her eyes and watches me. In the soft glow of the late night, with her watching me, my fingers find their own way on the strings as I smile at her and mouth the words, “I’ll stand by you, I’ll stand by you, won’t let nobody hurt you…”