Firethorne

Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Maya

“ Y ou shouldn’t let him get to you,” I told Lysander as he led me through the crowd. “You’re better than that.”

“I’m better than him,” Lysander replied, his head high to prove it. “I know it, and so does he. That’s why he goads me.”

I thought he’d take me somewhere private, a place where we could talk away from all the partygoers. But Lysander loved the spotlight, and he dropped my hand and stood on a chair to shout out, “Hey everyone! Let’s move onto the terrace and get this party started!”

Everyone cheered and began to move away from the reception area and down the hallway. I stood still, not really wanting to follow them, but Lysander jumped down, gave me a boyish grin and said, “Come on. I need to introduce you to a few people.”

I took his hand and let him lead me away, even though every fibre of my being was protesting. But I had to push myself outside of my comfort zone. Just because I preferred a quieter life didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy a different pace and style of living every now and again.

As we walked through the double doors to the terrace, I took a moment to appreciate the lake in the distance, shimmering in the moonlight, and the dark woods that bordered it. The terrace was beautifully lit with fairy lights, like a twinkling, sparkling haven. Somewhere magical, that was whispering promises for what the night might hold. There was a bar set up along one side and a DJ along the other, and waiters wandered around with trays of champagne.

“I’ll get us a drink. Wait here,” Lysander said, and I tried to stop him.

“A drink from this tray is fine,” I replied, putting my arm out to take a glass from a passing waiter.

But Lysander didn’t hear me.

He was already striding away without a second glance, heading to the bar, waving and greeting every person he walked past as he did, planting air kisses and patting others on the back.

The waiter stood still, waiting for me to take one of the glasses from his tray, but I shook my head.

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” I told him, and he walked away with a hint of disgust on his face.

That reaction only heightened my nerves. I felt self-conscious, standing on the terrace on my own, dressed in an outfit that was shorter than anything I’d ever worn and wishing I didn’t feel so awkward. I didn’t know anyone. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. Or for Lysander to come back, so I didn’t look like a nervous outsider standing in a sea of people who all seemed to know each other.

I spotted a group of girls about my age, that Lysander had greeted with hugs and kisses after he’d walked away from me. They were doing a terrible job of pretending to ignore me, but I could tell they were talking about me. I smiled at them, but they didn’t return the gesture, and then I heard one of them say a little too loudly, “You know what he’s like. He plays games. He’ll never change. This one won’t last as long as you did, though, Tabitha.”

I tried not to let my emotions show. I held myself with dignity, and I took a deep breath. But inside, I felt like I was crumbling. I wanted my legs to work, to walk me away from this disaster, but I was stuck like a fucking statue enduring it all. I had no idea who Tabitha was, and I didn’t want to know.

“Are you going to let them get away with talking about you like that?” a voice whispered in my ear, and I spun around to find Damien leering over me.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I replied, playing dumb.

“Yes, you do. They said you wouldn’t last long, and I saw the way your shoulders tensed. They’re right, though.” He sipped his drink before adding, “He does play games.”

“And you don’t?” I shot back. “You swapped my dress to make me look like an idiot.”

“I made you look like someone they wouldn’t dare to fuck with.” He pointed to the group of girls, and as I looked over at them, they all turned their backs on me, embarrassment evident on most of their faces because they’d heard every single word Damien had said. “Grow a backbone, Maya,” Damien hissed. “If you want to survive here, you’ll need one, and right now, you’ve got about as much backbone as a fucking slug.”

I fucking hated him.

“At least I don’t have the charm of one, unlike you ,” I snarled, feeling angry and wishing he’d fuck off and leave me alone.

“That’s better.” He smirked, nodding to himself. “You’re not a total write-off. I can work with that.”

I was just about to tell him exactly what I thought about him working anywhere near me, when I spotted Lysander holding two drinks and heading towards us, and relief washed over me.

“You just can’t stay away, can you?” Lysander seethed at Damien as he handed me my drink. “You’re always hanging around like a bad smell.”

“I think you’ll find that’s your aftershave,” Damien replied. “Eau de desperation.”

“I’m not the desperate one around here,” Lysander hissed, sipping his drink and glaring at his brother.

“Are you sure about that?” Damien replied.

I lifted my glass to take a sip, but Damien suddenly barrelled into me, knocking me sideways and making me stumble. I didn’t fall, Lysander caught me just in time, but the glass I was holding smashed on the floor before I could drink any of it.

“What the hell?” I snapped, staring first at the shattered glass, then at Damien, who was staring around him at no one in particular.

“People can be so rude at these events,” he moaned. “Pushing and shoving.” He was trying to blame whoever had knocked into him first, but I hadn’t seen anyone. No one had been there.

Damien clicked his fingers at a waiter, and they came rushing over with a dustpan and brush to tidy away the broken glass.

“You need to watch yourself,” Lysander hissed, but Damien just grinned back at him.

“Here,” Damien said, taking a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. “Have this instead, Maya. It might taste less... bitter .” And with that, he turned and walked away.

After the debacle with Damien on the terrace, things began to settle down. I started to enjoy myself, sort of. Lysander was a social butterfly, there was no denying that, and he did try to include me in all his conversations as he flittered around the party, gracing everyone with his smiles and gentle wit.

But I was so far from a social butterfly it was a joke.

I tried my best to match his enthusiasm, but after a while, I found myself needing space, wanting to be alone. So, when he was deep in conversation with one of his old school friends, I excused myself, saying I was going to the bathroom. But once I stepped away from the crowds, my legs moved of their own accord, leading me to the staircase.

Once I was on the second floor, I breathed a sigh of relief. No one was up here, and it was quieter. I felt like I could finally relax.

I walked down the corridor, feeling as though the room I was heading towards was calling out to me.

The library.

I pushed the door open and felt a blanket of serenity wrap itself around me. The subtle lighting created the perfect ambience in this room. Rows and rows of books were sitting, waiting for someone like me to come along and choose them, to pick them from the shelf and open them, then get lost in a world that’d never be perceived in the same way by anyone else ever. That was the magic of stories, everyone’s experience was different. I felt at home here, far more than in the crowd downstairs.

I crept across the library, my heels clicking softly on the hardwood floor, and then I stopped and stood in front of a bookcase at the far end of the room, scanning the shelves. I found a copy of Jane Austen’s ‘Emma’ , and I opened it and started to read, not even bothering to find a chair to sit in.

I don’t know how long I stood there; it was a lot longer than I’d expected to be away from the party. But when I looked at my watch and saw that it was almost midnight, I exclaimed, “Jeez, the party is probably finished now.”

“I doubt it,” a deep voice answered from behind, making me jump, gasp, and drop the book I was holding.

I spun around, my hand clasped to my chest, and I saw Damien sitting in a dark corner, staring at me.

“What the fuck are you doing, creeping around?” I snapped.

He raised his brow in response.

“Creeping? Really? Can it be described as creeping when I was in here before you?”

“It’s creepy as fuck that you’ve been sitting there for however long, watching me without letting me know you were in here,” I shot back, bending to pick up the book and put it back on the shelf, all while keeping my eyes on Damien. I didn’t trust him.

“But then I’d have missed out on listening to your little sighs as you read and watching your facial expressions in the reflection of the window over there. You’re a very expressive reader.”

I glanced at the window as he spoke, the darkness outside making the glass mirror-like. And then I snapped.

“And you’re a fucking stalker. What kind of man sits in the dark watching a woman?”

“I’m not going to justify my actions,” Damien announced, pushing himself out of his seat. “You’ll paint me as the villain no matter what I say or do.” He took a few slow steps towards me and then asked, “Did you read the books I sent you?”

“Yes,” I snapped.

“And what did you think?”

I wasn’t in the mood to chat with him or discuss my thoughts. I felt violated by him invading a quiet moment I’d taken for myself.

“I think it’s time I get back to the party,” I said to cut the conversation dead, but he was having none of it.

“Have you read much of Hardy?”

“No.” Again my answer was sharp and curt, an indication that I didn’t want to interact with him.

“You should,” he responded. “You could really learn something from his style, plots, and character driven stories.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” I replied, stepping past him to head out of the library.

“Why do you think he invited you here, tonight?” he asked out of the blue, and I stopped in my tracks and turned to face him. “Why did she invite you?” he went on. “Don’t you think it’s strange that they’re both so eager to befriend you?”

I tilted my head and glared back at him.

“Do you know what I find strange? That you would send me books, this outfit, and stalk me in this library to freak me out.”

He took a step closer.

“If you’re freaked out by that, then I may just blow your fucking mind if I show you what lies behind the curtain.”

“You know what...” I folded my arms over my chest and lifted my chin defiantly. “I don’t think anything behind your curtain would shock me. I believe you dressed perfectly for tonight. The devil. Out to play.”

He gave a sinister chuckle.

“Oh, it’s not me hiding behind the curtain. But if you want to see for yourself, I’ll show you.”

It was my turn to take a step forward now, and with my jaw clenched, I hissed, “Do your worst, Damien.”