Chain Reaction 1.27: Character

This one's a doozey. I just couldn't find a decent stopping point. Enjoy!
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      I can't believe how much I like my new job. I guess it's only my second day, but hopefully, that won't change.
      When I start my shift, the place is empty, but it doesn't stay that way. The first two patrons that walk in surprise me, especially that they're together...and holding hands.

     When they see me, their hands quickly separate.
     "Brielle, what are you...doing here?" Sade asks carefully.
     "I got a job," I reply and smile. I place a drink on the counter.
     "As a bartender?" Grayson asks incredulously. "I always pictured you... I don't know...doing something a little more sophisticated."
     "I'm enjoying myself."
     Sade changes the subject. "Alex called me, asking me about you. He said he was worried about you, that you aren't living with them anymore."
    I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry I haven't called you. I've just had a whirlwind couple of days." I tell her how Alex asked me to marry him. Grayson flops himself down on the stool in front of me, his expression sunken.

      "Then, what are you doing here? Surely, with Alex, you don't need-"
      "I said no. That's why I'm not living with the Goths anymore. I got an apartment," I interrupt.
      Grayson chuckles quietly and runs his fingers through his hair. "That was fast, a whirlwind." He smiles at me. "You did it." The look in his eyes tells me that he understands why I'd never say yes to Alex; he understands my need for independence. I could hug him right now if it wouldn't be awkward. Awkward... That reminds me...
      "So, how long have you two been dating?" I ask, deciding to test them with no warning.
      Sade's jaw drops, and Grayson laughs louder than his previous chuckle, slapping the bar top. "I told you, Sade," he tells her, turning his head around to smile at her.
      She swallows hard before giving me an apologetic smile. "I...didn't want things to be awkward with all of us."
      I shrug. "You two are my best friends. I'm happy you're together...and finally telling me."
      Grayson clears his throat. "We, uh, weren't serious until...last night." He glances up at me before quickly returning his gaze to the bar's counter. He wants to hide something from me.
      They've slept together.
      "We're getting married," Sade tells me happily. I stand here, blinking, in silent shock. They probably slept together ages ago. I think of all the times they've disappeared just the two of them, the night of my birthday party for instance. That glance was because he didn't know how to tell me.
      Grayson puts his head in his hand. "I thought we were going to keep that to ourselves for a while."
       "We were going to keep everything to ourselves for a while. Bri figured it out anyway," she replies. She beams at me.
        She wants me to be as ecstatic as she is right now. "Wow," I manage to get out. Sade giggles, walks around to my side of the bar, and hugs me.
       She bubbles out how the two of them have been having a secret relationship for about three months now, saying they wanted to keep it from me, not knowing how I would react to it. They weren't sure if my emotional state could handle it. I tell the two of them, seeing as it's only fair, that I'm dating the man I'd originally told them was my tutor. Grayson's jaw drops this time while Sade gushes. I can't quite comprehend the look in his eyes. It's like he's just had a revelation.
       "After all this time," he says quietly, "he's back in the picture." He sits back and holds his chin. Then, he orders a beer.

      The Maker decides to have me work at a bar across the street from my apartment building because it's more convenient, so I change venues. A couple of weeks go by.

       Graham visits almost every night, often just sitting in the corner on his phone. He mostly searches the web for job openings and options.
       I had no idea how far the Goths' reach extended.
       "How did it go today?" I ask him when he sits at the bar, and I place a drink in front of him. He'd applied for a job with a museum two hours away. Today, he had an interview.
       "It was a joke. They sounded so eager on the phone, but when I showed up today, I could tell their minds were already made up. I wasted my time." He slouches.
       I mutter a few choice words under my breath. "They're unfairly convicting you of a felony in their minds even though it didn't happen because-"
       "It could have," he interrupts my accusing Alex of meddling in Graham's life again.
       My snippy reply dies in my throat when I see the look in Graham's eyes, letting me know that he wanted it to. I immediately think back to that night when he'd been on his knees in front of me as I'd sat on his couch. My mind easily recalls the coarse feeling of his tongue on my thigh.
       The past weeks, I've been back on that couch and the one Graham bought for me for my apartment. We've made out numerous times. I involuntarily shudder as I remember what he can do and how he can make me feel, so out of control, wanting more but being too nervous to try. Most times, he acts content with a simple making out. Only a few times has he gently pushed the boundaries. Once, I couldn't believe how good it felt, even though we didn't remove any clothing. He didn't take it that far.

      He smiles apologetically and picks up his drink. "But you're right. It didn't," he remarks, bringing me back to this moment. His eyes rest on my legs for a second or two before he jerks them away.
      When he finishes taking a sip, I say, "Hey." My voice sounds commanding, and he looks up at me. I lean an elbow down on the counter, making my face close to and even with his. He puts his drink down away from me, and his hands rest on my upper arms. I reach up and hold his chin in my fingers. "I love you." Then, I lean forward and kiss him. His hands move from my arms to holding my head in place so that he can kiss me back. I could get in trouble with my boss for doing this, but it's more important to me to make Graham feel better after his crap kind of day.
       We pull apart just enough so he can murmur to me, "Shouldn't you be working?"
       I look down at his smiling lips. "I'm doing exactly what I should be doing."
       "I don't want to get you fired."
       My face darkens. "It would be only fair." I straighten up and take a few steps from him, picking up my towel.
       Before I can use it, he scolds, "Stop it. How many times do I have to tell you it's not your fault?"
       I give him a dubious look, knowing by now that there's no point to arguing this. Instead, I start wiping everything down.

     A few days later, someone I didn't expect to see walks through the door.
     "Brielle!" Mortimer Goth exclaims in greeting. The last time I spoke with him was the day I went over to the Goth house to apologize to Mr. and Mrs. Goth for leaving without giving them a more thankful goodbye. I could see in Bella's eyes that she wanted to rip me to shreds, probably over what happened with her son, but something held her back.
     "Hello, Mr. Goth," I reply less enthusiastically.
     "Please, Brielle. Mortimer. Call me Mortimer," he says like he's said before.
     I'm glad Graham isn't here tonight. The Goths are his least favorite people.
     "What may I get for you?" I ask, not addressing him with either.
     "A moment of your time," he requests and takes a seat in front of me.

     I guess not wanting to take a seat without paying for a drink, he orders some scotch. He watches me pour it and hand it to him.
     "You asked for a moment of my time?" I remind him.
     His eyes dart to the woman sitting next to him, obviously not comfortable talking in front of her.
     "I'm afraid I cannot leave the bar for a few hours." And that wasn't an invitation for you to wait for me.
     He takes a breath. "I'm here on behalf of my son."
     "I guessed as much," I admit.
     One of his arms leans on the bar top. "He's not been the same person since your rejection. He's brooding, secretive, up at strange hours, definitely not the man he was when you lived with us."
     What is this? A guilt trip?
     "I would agree he's changed. I'll even go so far as to tell you that when I first questioned him about it, he told me that everyone has a dark side," I offer.
     "His heart is broken. Perhaps... I was wondering... Maybe if you moved back in with us, broke it to him more gently. Surely you don't despise him?"
     "After what he's done? I do despise him. Now, I do." I watch him, wondering if he knows what his son's been up to. I've often wanted to know if Mortimer was assisting Alex in his vendetta.
      His eyes betray him. He knows. Whether or not he's assisted, he knows and has done nothing to prevent it.
      "And I'm sure you know what I mean," I tell him, my eyes twitching into a glare. "Besides, I've always wanted to be able to make it on my own."
      He quickly downs the glass I gave him, and I take it away to be washed.

      "You can still work if you want. If it would ease your pride, you could rent your room," he offers.
       I laugh, a sick and sad kind of laugh. Oh, the very idea!
      "I am perfectly serious, Brielle."
      "No, thank you," I tell him quite clearly. "I'm happy where I am."
      "You're saying you're 'happy' that you're making my son miserable."
      "He's making himself miserable," I snap, goaded.
      "You think you can honestly be happy with Graham Taylor?" he growls, and my eyes turn to slits. Before I can think up a really good smart-alec answer, he continues, "From the instant I met him and learned of his unnatural interest in you, I knew I had to do something. I had to get you away from yet another lecherous pervert! I wasn't about to let you fall prey once again to another man that can't tell child from adult!"
       "Get out," I say, my voice icy. "It was me. I lied about my age. When he first met me, he guessed correctly that I was too young to be out on my own in the middle of the night. I told him that I 'get that a lot.'"
       "So, even though you still looked like a child, he chased after you," Mortimer says as he gets up from his chair in a dignified manner. "Heed my words, Brielle. I still think of you as a daughter, and I mean this in the most caring way: That man is a predator, and I couldn't bear it should something else happen to you. I want you to know that you will always be welcome to come back to us, back home, if you need to."
       I fold my arms and cock my hip to the side. My eyebrows raise as if to ask 'why aren't you leaving?' He lets out an aggravated sigh and raises his hand in a stationary wave before turning and walking out of the bar.

      I don't tell Graham all the things that Mortimer said. I don't see how it could be helpful other than to understand why Graham felt suddenly and unexpectedly attacked when he asked if he could date me.
     Today, my day off, I go rock hunting, a pastime I never gave up, even when I lived with the Goths. I need a good distraction from what I found on the internet this morning. The sun shines brightly down on my back while I hack away at the rock in front of me.

     Mortimer's words run back and forth through my mind, and I once again tell myself that Graham is not the man that Mortimer said he was. He's done nothing to prove he's predatory. Once Graham found out my real age, he practically never touched me. He couldn't turn off the love for me like turning off water from a faucet. He tried, but it didn't work. He didn't act upon his feelings for me, partly due to the restraining order but also partly because he didn't think it would be right.
     Off in the distance, I hear someone cough. I think in an offhand way that they sound congested but not like an illness, an allergy perhaps, the cough clearing sinus drainage. I know because Alex would frequently cough that way. The person coughs again, and I pick my head up.
     Alex.

     He clears his throat again, the sound getting carried to me on the breeze. My hands shake as I think about how I'm about to confront him.

      "Alex," I state plainly in greeting.
      He picks his head up from where he'd been looking down at a book. "Brielle," he breathes like a breath of fresh air. His head turns towards me, and I watch his eyes dart around, obviously looking to see if Graham is with me. Then, he smiles at me, the same boyishly nerdy smile I've always known. He gestures to the chair next to him. "Please. Have a seat." His book vanishes to that place where everything goes.
     I purse my lips at his welcoming demeanor as I reach out and grab the chair to pull it back. I watch him watch me with love in his eyes as I sit next to him.

     "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" he asks. His eyes drink in my face like they were dying of thirst before this moment. All of a sudden, I see he meant every word he said to me. He would've made a very devoted husband. He looks at me like he'd do anything for me.
     Time to test that.
     "Call off your vendetta against Graham," I request openly.
     He smiles, looks down at the table, and then looks back at me. "Of course, I could deny it, say I don't know what you mean, but I won't lie. Tell me, why is he so utterly desperate for a job? You know, some men don't have to work if they don't want to, at least in a nine-to-five kind of way." He winks at me, puts one arm on the table, and leans towards me. He smiles at me like a Cheshire cat, completely bemused.
      "My father stole any kind of savings he had. He's had to rebuild," I reply defensively.
      Alex makes a tsk-tsk clucking sound with his tongue while shaking his head back and forth. "Such a shame. And to be dating the daughter of the very man that ruined him! Perhaps you should ask him about his vendettas."
      If I had a glass in my hand, I'd be throwing the contents in his face. I saw a woman do that the other night, and to be honest, the guy had it coming.
      "You know," I say, "I might be suspicious like you're implying I should be except for the fact that he loved me before my father did that to him."
      "If it were any woman but you, I'd wonder at how he could hang onto his love for you for so long with virtually no contact. But then, I've been living it. Perhaps you're right and he doesn't have a score to settle with your father, using you to hurt him." He looks at me like he doesn't believe what he just said, still attempting to convince me that Graham has an ulterior motive for dating me. It's utterly ridiculous for him to suggest that Graham is only using me to get at my father. My dad never cared, so what's the point?!

      "My father doesn't care about me, so you're wrong. How dare you imply it!" I snap, losing my temper.
      "Whoa! Easy there," he says like he's trying to calm a wild animal. "Your father might be the world's biggest jackass, but I think he cares more than you know. We didn't tell you, but he tried to get you back when he got out of prison. Dad told him he could forget it, that he was lucky he still had Logan."
     I want to wrap my hands around his throat and shake him. "It doesn't matter now. Graham isn't attacking anyone. You are! Last week, he went for a job interview in Cave Springs, and when he left, he was sure the museum board was excited to hire him. However, when he got there, he could tell that he'd wasted his time applying there." I glare at Alex. "I wonder what could've changed their minds?! Funny, but I Googled the museum this morning, and lo and behold there's a new exhibit sponsored by the Goth family!"
     "If he'd gotten a job in Cave Springs, something tells me you'd go with him. I don't want that. I'm doing what I think is best," he tells me calmly.
      I'm so mad that I'm crying. "What you think is best?! Best for whom?!"
      His voice drops to a pained whisper. "Brielle, please don't cry." He reaches for me, probably intending to wipe my cheeks.
      "Don't touch me!" I cry out. He jerks back like I'd bitten him.
   

      I sniff and wipe my cheeks while Alex covers his face. Seeing me crying must be too much for him. The notion gives me hope. Perhaps my friend is still in there.
      "Where did you go, Alex? Where's my friend? If a future me had told me years ago that this would be happening, I wouldn't believe it."
      "I can't bear the thought of you leaving town. I had to do something," he mumbles down to the table.
      "This wouldn't be an issue if you hadn't have gotten him fired in the first place. He wouldn't have to be looking far and wide for another job if you hadn't blackballed him."
      "I want him worthless in your eyes, Brielle, because that's how I see him. He's a creep who doesn't deserve you. But...it would seem my methods have only made you want to hang onto him even harder."
      "Alex, I love him. I can see why you and your family think he's a creep, but it was my doing. He thought I was older than I was."
      His head jerks up, and he pounds the table with his fist as he angrily asks, "Why do you love him? Why him? We've known each other our entire lives!"
      "I can't explain it, but I do. I just know deep down that we're meant to be together."

      "I don't see how that works since, deep down, I know we're supposed to be together," he counters. "And I can list several reasons right now why I love you."
      "Alex, please don't do this. Please don't back me into a corner to where I have to hurt you again," I beg quietly. "My friend is still in you somewhere." I see him wince. "Please stop attacking Graham's career and character. I'm asking you as a friend." I suddenly remember back to when I'd first run away and Alex had begged me, as a friend, to stop living in the woods.
      He stays silent, looking at me. Then, he leans forward and rests his elbow against the table, looking out over the lake. He sits back and looks at me again. I watch as the two sides of him battle it out.
      Finally, his face curls up in pain. "I told you I'd do anything for you, all you had to do was ask. I should honor that. I cannot erase what I've already done, but, for you, I'll stop sabotaging his job opportunities."
      "Thank you," I reply and stand up from my chair. He watches me with basset hound eyes.
      Before I turn to go, he reaches out and grabs my hand. I look down at him in surprise. "Know this, Brielle," he says. "I will wait. Graham will show his true colors one day, and I will be here for you when he does." He gazes up at me like he sees pain in my future he wished he could take away.
      "I appreciate your concern," I say gently but not-so-gently free my hand from his. "Don't wait for me. I'll be fine no matter what happens."
      His eyes don't believe me, but he says nothing else. I turn and head home.