The Watcher Read online

  I remembered he had recently told me if I gained any more weight, he would no longer be attracted to me. A part of me had died that day. That was the day I began staring in the mirror and noticing every flaw, every dimple, and every blemish. I bought workout DVDs and organic food and never went out to eat anymore. I had been working so hard to lose a few pounds, but between work and school, I didn’t have much time. I’d lost 10lbs after trying really hard, but apparently he hadn’t even noticed. I closed my mouth, raised my chin, and looked at him defiantly.

  “You’re an asshole,” I said finally. “Maybe you should stay with a friend tonight. I really don’t want you here when I get back. You’re a mean soul, Ryan, and I’m sorry I fell in love with you.”

  I walked out the door and slammed it behind me. I walked quickly to my car and set up my playlist to 90s alternative. I pulled up Alice in Chains, Down in a Hole and tried not to cry. This song spoke to me in this moment, and I wondered if I’d ever be able to dig myself out of this hole that was my life.

  I couldn’t believe he had compared me to her! I so wanted to believe she was just a co-worker, but the more he stayed at work late and the meaner he got, the further my trust slipped. Moreover, I couldn’t believe he’d brought up my mom. He knew what a sore subject she was. More and more he’d brought up my past, throwing it in my face almost as if he was trying to hurt me. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. All I could hear was my mom calling me a stupid bitch and a fat bitch as she hit me and my little sister with her belt, a hanger, the metal hairbrush. We never knew exactly why we were in trouble, but she made it known that she hated her kids. That word and those beatings stayed with me even into adulthood.

  Just that one sentence from Ryan threw me back in time to when I was a cowering little girl. He knew that was one of the reasons that had caused me to take all those pills years ago. He knew I hated the word bitch, the word stupid, and the word fat. I now saw that he didn’t care. He used them to “joke” with me then yelled at me for not laughing. How could I be in love with someone like that? I guess the joke was really on me.

  And Katie? How could I be so blind? All my awkwardness and self-loathing came rushing back to me. He was supposed to love me no matter what, right? Isn’t that what marriage is all about? If I was unhealthy or at risk for disease, that’s one thing, but because he thought my curves were too much I was supposed to change for him? I realized that I hadn’t been naked around him since that day. I wore my clothes like armor, shielding any unwanted looks or disgusted faces from my view. The rationale is that I shut down emotionally before the worst has a chance to happen, so when it inevitably does, I will have preserved a tiny piece of my heart. So much was left unspoken, the moment he spoke her name. I needed to drink these feelings away and fix the armor around my heart to preserve it from further pain.

  I opened my eyes, rolled down my windows, and took a few calming breaths as I drove to meet Emma. I checked my mascara in the mirror and reapplied my lip gloss. Finally the excitement of finals being over and going out with my best friend began to set in and I let go of my life’s worries for now. They would still be there tomorrow. I was tired of feeling sad and small and lost. For now, I wanted to revel in the sweet relief of passing yet another tough semester and the taste of a shot of Jameson coating my throat and warming my insides. My mouth began to water as I imagined that first shot.

  *****

  Gabriel

  Confession: I followed her home. I couldn’t help myself. She had looked into my eyes and I could have sworn she saw right through to my core. I just wanted to see her for a little longer tonight. I promised myself I’d leave after just a glimpse of her. I’d watched her getting ready for bed before and it was my favorite time of the day. She’d put on her favorite ratty pajamas, pulled her hair into a ponytail, washed her face, and arranged her bed just so. I never actually watched her change, as I wanted her to know I was there the first time I ever saw that gorgeous body without clothes. But I watched her routine, memorizing the curve of her hip in her yoga pants, the way her tank top showed off her ample cleavage, and the way her body moved as she arranged her pillows and blankets.

  I wanted to bury myself in her and knock all those pillows and blankets to floor as I pounded into her so hard she forgot what day of the week it was. Tonight was different though. She was getting ready to go out with her friend instead of getting ready for bed. I watched as that prick of a husband ignored her when she walked into their home. The home she had worked so hard to create for them. I watched her face and shoulders fall the moment she got into her bedroom. I know she had been hoping for something more than silence from him.

  Lately they had done nothing but fight as he stayed out later and later. I’d watched her check her phone over and over those nights. She never gave up hope that he would put her first. I knew better. I’d known plenty of men like him. I never followed him, but I knew that he wasn’t being faithful to her. A tear ran down her cheek and I waged an inner war with myself. God, I wanted to gather her in my arms and soothe those tears away with kisses and the sweet words she deserved to hear, but I couldn’t risk showing myself for fear of her freaking out and running away from me forever.

  I turned my back as she changed her outfit but turned back around the moment I heard her zip her pants. The sight of her knocked the breath out of me. I’d only ever seen her in her professional work attire and her pajamas before. For tonight she’d chosen a see through green top with a lacy black bra underneath and a pair of jeans that hugged her curves. When I saw her lace up her boots and grab a black leather jacket, my mouth went dry. I wanted to see her in the boots and jacket and nothing else. She continued on to fix her makeup, which made those gorgeous eyes stand out and even look a little wicked. Fuck, I wasn’t letting her out of my sight tonight. I might even show myself to her again, just to see that blush.

  I heard her husband call out to her as she started to leave and watched her pause at the door. When she turned around, her eyes were filled with tears. I fisted my hands at my sides and tried to hold in my anger as he called her a bitch and berated her for not finding him funny. My girl stood her ground though, calling him out on his recent bullshit. I was proud of her for not just letting him say what he wanted. So many times I’d watched her stay silent, and then run to her room in tears and hide the rest of the night.

  And then he insulted her weight and I rushed towards him prepared to swing, waiting for Lily to break down and start crying. That would be my permission, those tears, because I’d hit my breaking point. But she surprised me and stood up for herself, even telling him to leave for the night. Her strength was so amazing and I silently applauded her when she stormed out.

  Following her to her car, I watched as she gathered herself and turned on some Alice in Chains. Damn this girl was cool. Fixing her makeup in the little mirror and rolling her shoulders in an attempt to relax, she seemed so strong to me. I wanted that jackass gone and out of her life for good. She deserved so much more and I only needed to wait for the right moment just a little longer. She had seen me and she had felt something. It was almost time to turn that something into everything I knew it could be.

  Chapter Three

  *****

  Lily

  I pulled into the parking lot and found the last spot. Alright, this night might actually be good! I entered the bar to see that it was packed and spotted Emma saving me a seat at the bar. Machinehead by Bush was on the jukebox. It was loud, it was smoky, and it was a little slice of heaven. I plopped down on the stool and smiled at Lou, the 70 year old bartender. He waved and began to pour two shots of Jameson and two chasers of Coke. With the speed of a much younger man he slid them to us and gave up a toothy grin. Emma and I clinked shot glasses and drank up. She already had her two shots waiting, so we immediately threw back the second one. Ah, sweet, sweet Jameson to the rescue. I felt my shoulders start to relax, my lips felt a little tingly, and I couldn’t contain the sigh of relief that escaped my lip
s. There was a lull in between songs and Emma looked at me as if to say “that bad huh?”

  I just nodded and said “the usual”. She knew all about the usual. She’d been telling me for over a year to leave his ass in the dust. Even her husband agreed with her, having recently pointed out to me that my husband has a complete lack of respect for me. I would usually defend Ryan, always the faithful wife. But tonight, after that lovely display at home, I was in complete agreement. If I never heard the name Katie again, it would be too soon. I briefly wondered if any man would find me sexy. Maybe I was too curvy for all of them. I was suddenly very lonely and could feel the darkness that had swallowed me all those years ago begin to seep back in.

  Speaking of the darkness swallowing me, someone must have been on a Bush kick, as Swallowed came on next. Emma and I squealed and jumped up from our barstools. Yes, we still held onto our Gavin Rossdale crushes. We headed out to the tiny little dance floor and began head banging like we were groupies for an 80s band. I let go of my test worries, my marriage stresses, and just jumped up and down to the magic of Gavin’s fingers on that guitar. I smiled and closed my eyes and just let go. I bumped into people, people bumped into me, but it didn’t matter. I reveled in the closeness of other 90s alternative lovers. I danced until I felt the tension begin to seep away, although I’m sure the Jameson was helping too.

  As the song ended, I opened my eyes and took a deep breath. I might be plus-sized, but I could dance with the best of them. I smiled at Emma and she motioned to the bar. We headed back over, our seats now taken, and crammed ourselves into the drink line. Lou came out from behind the bar with two more shots and two more cokes. Needless to say, we tipped him fat every time we came here. He knew our life stories from our visits on slow nights after class, and he completely understood that we were good girls in need of some R&R. We thanked him profusely and knocked back our third Jameson. By this point I was truly relaxed and in the mood for fun. All of a sudden I heard the familiar opening strains of Glycerine, and the dance floor beckoned. Emma had to pee, so she stumbled off to stand in line for the ladies room. I headed back to the dance floor and just let the music over take me.

  The deep sounds of the guitar mixed with the sweet lyrics took me to a fantasy world. All I could think of were those haunting, crystal clear, green eyes. I raised my arms and swayed my hips. I slowly took off my leather jacket and set it on a nearby chair, having worked up a sweat from the song before. I knew my black lace bra could be seen through my shirt in the low bar lights, but I didn’t care. Thinking of that stare made me feel sexy and almost wanting. I scanned the dance floor for Emma, hoping she made it back for this song, as I knew she loved it too.

  As I continued to sway my hips and sing the words to myself, I could feel someone staring at me. I made a slow turn, trying to figure out if I was making it up in my head through my alcohol induced haze. I was once again startled by a pair of green eyes. I spotted him across the hazy dance floor sitting alone at the bar. He was still wearing his black sweatshirt, hood pulled up, and he was nursing a bottle of beer. I kept dancing, suddenly nervous of making a complete fool of myself. I could see his lips moving to the lyrics, “Couldn’t love you more, you’ve got a beautiful taste.” OMG he was mouthing the lyrics to me! This was the second time I had heard a song about the way I taste today and both times were right in front of him. I wanted to look away, I really wanted to, but I couldn’t. I just kept dancing, swaying back and forth, and mouthing the lyrics along with him. Through the smoke, I saw him raise his beer to his lips and take a deep swallow. I just stared at him and swallowed hard, my nerves became tauter and tauter.

  The song ended and Emma jumped up in front of me, startling me out of my reverie. We made our way back to the bar as I secretly looked for my green-eyed stranger. He had left the bar area, so Emma and I took his seat and the empty one next to it. Seether came on the speakers, Broken featuring Amy Lee. I’ve had a lot of people tell me I look like her, which I take as a compliment. She’s freaking gorgeous. Lou showed up with two more shots and chasers and told us they were compliments of a fellow fan of Bush. My face burned red once again and Emma turned to look at me. I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips. I briefly explained my encounter in class today and what had happened while she was in the ladies room. She began wildly looking around, trying to find him. I shushed her and begged her to stop, suddenly mortified that we were acting like we were back in high school talking about a crush.

  I was a married woman for crying out loud. I needed to put all thoughts about black hoodies and green eyes out of my head. We took our shots and asked for ice water, knowing we had to drive at some point that night. Push by Matchbox 20 came across the speakers and I squealed. Yet another 90s crush that hadn’t abated. I begged Emma to come to the dance floor, but she was deep in conversation with the guy next to her about some sports team or other. I knew it was hopeless once she got involved in sports talk, so I headed back to the dance floor. Once again, I secretly scanned the room for my watcher. I wasn’t sure if he was to be called an admirer yet, as I don’t usually attract admirers.

  I sang the lyrics loudly, getting out some of my frustration. Moving my hips, I began gyrating and losing myself in my national anthem. I felt a presence behind me and got a whiff of laundry soap, deodorant, and a faintly distinct male scent. Hot breath danced along the back of my neck and a pair of hands lightly gripped my hips. I fought the urge to freeze and slowed my motions, swaying instead of gyrating. I looked down and saw black nail polish on the most beautiful set of masculine hands I had ever seen. I knew immediately it was my watcher.

  He leaned in slightly, his chest touching my back, and whispered “Don’t turn around” into my ear. My heart skipped a beat as I got the first hint of his gravelly voice. He began singing the chorus to me…it was the most beautiful singing voice I had ever heard. The song ended and it was immediately followed by Long Day by Matchbox Twenty. I could have sworn someone was playing the soundtrack to my life.

  I giggled to myself, the Jameson taking hold finally. His hands left my hips and I felt their loss acutely. I didn’t want to go against his command, but I wanted to look into those beautiful eyes up close. I swiftly turned around to find that black hoodie quickly retreating into the crowd. I was disappointed and sang along with Rob Thomas. I was in a daze, forgetting who I was, what my life was, and momentarily stuck in a fantasy world where my troubles didn’t exist, wiped clean by those gorgeous hands.

  The song ended and I shook my head to try to clear it. I went back to Emma and ordered a large ice water. Like a Stone by Audioslave came on next and sent me back in time to the days of drinking and karaoke with my ex-boyfriend, Brice. That’s when the darkness had completely taken me over. I was either in a drunken haze or high all the time, trying to escape his abuse and neglect and my mother’s hold over me until I had felt so damaged and so undone that I had taken half a bottle of his sleeping pills to put my demons to rest. I had found him in our bed with his ex that night and it was my undoing.

  I had come so far in my life since that raging alcoholic of a cheating bastard, but I was a long way from where I longed to be. I went from an emotionally abusive alcoholic cheater to a mentally abusive asshole cheater. Why couldn’t I have someone who took care of me? I imagined myself roaming from room to room, waiting for green eyes to appear. I was so confused. I needed to sleep this off and return to my real life where I could make some life changing decisions.

  *****

  Gabriel

  I wandered around the club while she caught up with her friend. I wasn’t ready for her to see me just yet, so I stayed in the shadows. Watching her was an obsession and I knew it, but I couldn’t care less. She was the most beautiful fucking creature I’d ever seen and I wanted her to be mine. But first I wanted to learn every possible detail about her that I could without her knowing. She was a fascinating creature of habit, doing almost the same thing every day. Through her monotony, though, there was something
creeping around in her mind. I’d read her thoughts a few times while she read the different romance genres. She was extremely interested in the alpha male character that had taken the reading world by storm recently. My little kitten had a very dirty imagination. I knew some of her fantasies included being tied up, or spanked, or fucked outside where she might be caught. One fantasy she’d had recently involved some very naughty things in an alley.

  I knew I could make every one of these fantasies come true, if only I could get her to see me for who, and what, I really was. Oh, and after she had kicked that asshole to the curb. Speaking of fantasies, mine had just pulled her friend onto the dance floor. I watched her body thrash around to the heavy guitar sounds of Bush and shoved my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching out and touching her. I wanted that thrashing to be against me. I wanted to feel those tits bouncing against me as she danced. I could only imagine how delicious they would taste. My cock started to swell as she flipped her hair around. Fuck, I needed a drink.

  I went to the bar and ordered a beer and took a few long swallows, continuing to watch her change rhythms as the song’s beat changed. What would it be like to make her strip to this song for me? Would she be shy? Or would she take control and flaunt that perfect body? Watching her go back to the other side of the bar and down another shot, made me want to show her I was there. I knew she had to be relaxed now that she’d been drinking. Another Bush song came on the jukebox and she was visibly excited. Her friend stumbled off in the direction of the restroom, but she decided to dance anyway.

  She swayed her hips and raised her arms in the air, completely in her own world. As she closed her eyes, I hoped she was wondering about me. Her body moved in unbelievably sexy ways and I needed her to know I was there. I stared at her hard, willing her to face my direction. I could see it the moment she realized someone was watching her. Pulling my hood up, I watched as she surveyed the room, looking for the person intruding on her private dance. When her eyes found mine, she froze for a split second. Again the lyrics aligned perfectly with the moment as I mouthed that she had a beautiful taste. Her eyes widened but she kept dancing, slowing her movements down slightly. Her eyes never left mine as her hips moved back and forth and she ran her fingers through her hair. She was fucking dancing just for me. My dick was so hard I could feel it pressing painfully against my pants.