Blood and Love - 3. Aaron’s Story I— Messed up

“One…Two…..THREE!” Drake shouted. Randy and I quickly began our shots of vodka. Amidst the loud music and the deafening cheers of the guys, Randy and I were gulping down drinks, each one trying to out do the other. Finally, Randy splurged and gave up. I finished the winning shot and looked around beaming.

“That’s my man! The stud won! Yeah, Babe!” Drake was shouting himself hoarse while patting me on the back as a sign of congratulation. Randy looked pissed and went to the other corner away from the bar. I got Drake off my back and followed Randy.

Randy was my boyfriend. Six feet tall with chiseled manly looks and a ripped muscular frame, his temper and ego was as ripped. People always wondered how things worked out between us. I was an extrovert, haughty and very straight-forward. Why shouldn’t I be? Almost six feet in height, shiny jet black hair, very cute looks, awesome fashion sense and a great personality. I didn’t take crap from people and didn’t give a damn to what they said. My friends wondered how I could get along with Randy with such conflicting attributes. Aren’t like poles supposed to repel each other? Randy had been my best friend over the last ten years before we got committed. Our friendship had prevented our heading to splitsville.

“What’s up with ya, Ran?” I sat next to him on the couch and tried to snuggle closer.

“Nothing!” The sharp tone with which he spoke, the impassive face and the refusal to accept my snuggling was loudly suggesting the contrary.

“Come on, honey. It was just a stupid game. Don’t spoil your mood over it. Come on. Let’s dance.” I got up and pulled his arm.

He refused to budge and jerked my hand away. The vodka had made me tipsy and his actions had frustrated me.

“Fine! Go to hell! Keep sitting here like a berserk hag and grumble to yourself. You’re a douche bag! I don’t know why the hell I am even trying to make things work with an immature jerk!”

I was shouting in frenzy, venting my frustration when he suddenly got up and punched me square on the face. I fell back with my nose bleeding. But, he didn’t stop. He kicked my stomach and I rolled onto my side in pain. I was shouting in pain and tears were flowing from my eyes. I saw Randy picking a bottle and coming towards me. Everyone watched in shock. He looked demoniac with murder in his eyes.

“I’ll show you what happens when you act a smart-arse in front of Randy Gram.” He grabbed my shoulder roughly, made me lie on my back facing him and raised the bottle to hit me.

I shouted and shut my eyes, dreading the blow. But the searing pain never came. I opened my eyes and saw a guy had grabbed Randy’s hand mid-way.

Randy was momentarily shocked before he tried to free his arm. Apparently, the stranger was quite strong; while Randy seemed to be exerting all possible force, the guy seemed unaffected. The guy applied pressure and Randy shouted in pain, letting the bottle go. The guy pushed him off him and threw him away. He seemed to have some supernatural strength because Randy collided with the bar a few feet away and passed out.

Then, the guy bent over me and putting a hand under my shoulders helped me get up. He helped me leave the pub. I saw a final glimpse of my ‘friends’ around Randy before I left with the guy.

We reached his Porsche parked outside. Even in the pain and shock I couldn’t help noticing it. He helped me into the passenger seat and got into the driver seat. I saw the sign of the pub “Mysticus Grill” before he pulled out of the parking.

“So, where should I take you? The infirmary or your place?” The guy turned to me and asked in an unaffectionate and deep voice.

His tone and impassive face punctured the bubble of the feelings of gratitude I was feeling for him. I looked at him coldly and told my address. He nodded and started driving.

After ten minutes of driving he spoke, “What happened at the bar? That man seemed bent to rip your head off.”

His cold and impassive tone irritated me. “He was my boyfriend Randy. We quarreled over something.” I had no intention of giving him details.

He shook his head and muttered “Teenagers” under his breath before speaking, “Quite a passionate lover you got there.” He shot his sarcastic comment.

I turned to look at him. “Listen, Mister…”

“Daniel Damien.” He interrupted with a teasing smile and air of superiority.

“Whatever! Mr. Damien I thank you for having saved me but I didn’t need your help. I could have dealt with him on my own. And..”

He interrupted yet again. “Yeah, I saw what an awesome job you were doing of saving yourself! Here you should be sitting on one knee thanking me for SAVING your life. But you act like Princess Lala in Lalaland snapping at me.”

I was infuriated. What the hell did this guy think of himself! “I’ve had enough. Please stop the car. I’ll walk my way back home.”

“Huh! Now that we have reached your place! That’s a nice act of self-respect!” He sneered and brought the car to a halt.

I looked out and saw we had reached my house. I was too irritated and frustrated to say anything. I got out of the car and slammed the door shut before realizing the sheer pain in my ankle and stumbling backwards. I quickly balanced myself against the car and stood.

“I guess you need my help again, your highness.” He shot another sarcastic comment before coming towards me and supporting me with his arms.

I reluctantly put an arm around his neck while he put his arms under my shoulder helping me to walk. In spite of my pride and anger I couldn’t help noticing how strong his arms felt or how warm his breath on my neck.

We walked to the door before he rang the bell.

******************************************************************************************************************************************

This is my first attempt at a novel...Please leave reviews/suggestions and comments. Thank You. :)