Find Me Alastar(43)

I put my phone down onto the table and glare at Alastar. He raises his eyebrows in question.

I shake my head in annoyance. Thomas and Brielle continue talking and I stare down at the table. I think it was better when I thought he had a reason to leave me. In my twisted mind I had been justifying us hooking up by thinking that the attraction between us had been so strong, he just hadn’t been able to fight it. But no, I was just another number.

“Are you married, Alastar?”

Fuck it, I’m just coming out with it now. Who cares? It’s not like I have anything to lose. He obviously doesn’t care.

Alastar narrows his eyes, annoyed at my question. “I have answered this already.”

I glare at him. “That isn’t a f*cking answer.”

“No, I am not f*cking married,” he growls.

“Don’t you dare swear at me!” I’m outraged. Of all the nerve. Irish swearing sounds mean.

“You swore first and it was a stupid question.”

My mouth drops open in horror. “Was it?” I snap.

“It was,” he half yells.

My eyes flick to our two companions who are, rather wisely, staying silent.

“If you’re not married, tell me why your little brother here texts you in the middle of the night and asks where you are? Your wife or girlfriend had obviously called him to find out where you were.”

His eyes flick to Thomas. “How do you know that?”

Brielle gives me a subtle don’t do it shake of the head.

“Because Brielle hacked your phone, and I am so onto you, *,” I snap, outraged.

His angry eyes glare at Brielle. “You hacked my damn phone?” He snaps.

Brielle smiles stupidly, not quite believing I just dobbed her in so easily and she points at me. “She told me to.”

His angry eyes come back to me. “That’s it.” He stands abruptly and throws his napkin onto the table.

“Don’t bother leaving, because I am,” I yell.

I grab my bag and storm toward the door and he bursts out after me. I run to the curb and lift my arm.

“Thomas, look after Brielle,” I yell at him, and he nods, too scared of my psycho performance.

“You are impossible,” Alastar yells. “You’re angry with me because I’m not married? How dare you invade my privacy?”

I turn to face him, fury coursing through my veins. “I’m angry that you used me and we both know it was you who invaded me.”

His face drops. “Is that what you think?”

“I don’t think it. I know it.”

He stands still and watches me but doesn’t answer.

My anger gets the better of me, stupid tears form. “You hurt me,” I whisper.

His face drops and he steps toward me.

I hold my hands up in defense. “Don’t. Don’t you dare touch me,” I choke.

“Em…” He whispers.

“Stop it. I know you’re a player and you’re used to this. This love and leave them routine must make your belt notches pretty big. Tell me, Alastar, do I have an STD?” My voice cracks betraying my hurt.

He frowns.

“If you didn’t use a condom with me, you obviously don’t use them at all.”

His face falls. “Of course I use them with everyone else. I’m completely clean. In fact, I have only had unprotected sex once in my life.”

I shake my head in disgust. He’s just cemented what a liar he is. He had unprotected sex with me numerous times… he doesn’t even remember how many times we did it. Sadness comes over me like a dark, heavy blanket.

“It’s not what you think?” He pauses. “This situation is not what you think. I couldn’t stay away from you.”

I shake my head in disgust. The lies are just bleeding out of him now like poison. “It is exactly what I think, Alastar. Who are you kidding? You couldn’t get away from me fast enough.”

A cab arrives to save me. I jump into it, but he leans through the half open window. “I don’t want you to hate me.” I glare up at him. “Too late. I do,” I reply coldly. “I hate that you made me feel like this.”

The cab pulls away from the curb and we speed down the street as the tears of sadness fill my eyes.

London is a disaster.





Chapter 9





The sound of a gunshot makes me jolt up in bed, and I pant as I try to catch my breath.

What was that?

Who was shot?

It’s 3am and my bedroom is dark and still. I stand as my heart beats heavy in my chest and walk to the window to pull the sheer curtains back and stare down at the street below.

Was that gunshot outside… or was it all another dream?

I feel like I’m going crazy, between these dreams and the flashing lights in my eyes.

I get a glass of water and return to my window seat to watch the city lights below. I haven’t been sleeping well, what with the constant, nagging thoughts of my characters, Henry and Elizabeth every night. I take out my notepad and let my imagination run wild.

It’s so life like that I would swear their story is real. This is going to be a great book.



* * *



“Would you like to go for a walk in the woods this afternoon,” Elizabeth asks hopefully.