I DO NOT OWN THESE CHARACTERS. THEY BELONG TO THE CW NETWORK. THIS IS A WORK OF FANFICTION BY OMEGA WHITE.
LONELY HEARTS
CHAPTER 8
Sinister clouds suffused the sky, an omen of the treacherous rain to come. Vincent sat on his deck drinking beer, his mood as dark as the sky above. No matter how much he drank, the memory of the kiss refused to vanish. With every thought, Catherine's lips appeared, teasing him, tempting him, enticing him to taste them. The little minx had penetrated a chink in his armor and infiltrated his heart. Darn it if he wasn't screwed six ways to Sunday. Slap the stupid sticker across his forehead, because all roads led to Idiotville and yours truly had just been elected mayor. Two years of solitude, concealing his secrets and now one little green-eyed vixen could expose him for the fraud that he was. Teetering on the precipice of three sheets to the wind, he grabbed his bottle. Treacherous rain was inconsequential compared to the violent hurricane brewing within him. And with his last gulp of liquid courage, he looked up into the eye of the storm. There she stood, those hypnotic green eyes, ignorant to the monster staring back at them. Funny how courage was missing in action, yet his body was in full reaction. Flying full-mast, pressing against the denim barrier, his uninvited guest begged to join the party.
"Vincent, are you okay?"She asked, genuinely concerned.
He laughed. "Catherine, go home. Right now is not a good time."
"And when is a good time? From where I'm standing, looks like you're either running or hiding. Either way I didn't take you for a coward."
He slammed his bottle down causing Catherine to jump. "We share a past, albeit a short one, it is memorable. However, I am not that little Vinny anymore. If you've come looking for him, you might as well turn around now, because I am the polar opposite of him."
"That is quite obvious. I'm not the same Cat you knew either. People grow up. Circumstances change you. You don't give me enough credit, yet I know you won't find solace in a bottle, no matter how many or how long you drink."
"Thank you, Dr. Chandler for your unsolicited advice."
"Your sarcasm is cute, but I did get two out of three right."
"Excuse me?"
"You're running from your past, hiding from the present, and pretending you don't have a future. We have more in common than you think. We could help each other," she said confidently.
"Catherine, I have way too demons for a good girl like you. That's why kissing you was a mistake. You're a lost ball in high weeds, if you think I'm worth your time. Go live your life and forget about me," he said looking away.
Catherine was beyond livid and unable to hold her tongue. "The past can be a cold-hearted, sadistic stalker, if you let it. You have to face your demons and slay the pesky interlopers or you'll wake up one day facing regret and embracing sorrow. But what do I know? I'm just a simple country girl, rejected by her mother, who's scared to let people in, for fear of them leaving one day. No, I couldn't possibly understand how life can be a double-edged sword or how people you love the most, will hurt you the worst. Excuse me for impersonating a human. I'll just take take my unsolicited advice and leave you be. You can crawl your half drunk butt right back into Pandora's box and pretend this was all just a dream, especially the kiss. That's better than acknowledging you need help. You would rather live in solitude and suffer in silence. Well your wish has just been granted. Enjoy your lonely, miserable life, you and your demons," she said as she walked away.
Vincent sat stone-faced, his eyes unfocused. The pain in his leg was insignificant, compared to the hole piercing his heart. Catherine was deeply embedded in his heart and he was an unmitigated fool if he thought he could simply let her walk away. To add insult to injury, the clouds picked that inopportune moment to rain on his disaster of an evening. Swearing under his breath, he walked inside.
CATHERINE
Thunder rumbled in the distance, accompanied by pelting rain hitting the window panes. Cat snuggled under the covers, unable to sleep with the storm becoming more aggressive. Her bedside lamp flickered off, a sign all power was out. Laying in the dark, she thought of her earlier encounter with Vincent. Who knew she would meet the male version of herself. Kenny Rogers said, "You've got to know when to hold 'em. Know when to fold 'em. Know when to walk away. Know when to run." After tonight, it was time to tie her shoelaces and run, do not pass go, do not collect $200, just run and never look back. Only Catherine knew it wouldn't be that simple, especially with Vincent living next door. Resigning herself to put her big girl panties on and suck it up, she turned over and attempted to go to sleep. Eventually she drifted off, only to be awaken by a loud noise in the kitchen. Jumping out of bed, she ran into the kitchen, devastated to discover the roof had fallen in and water was everywhere. Whoever said, when it rain it pours, hit the nail on the head. It was borderline flooding in her home as well as her life. If there was a calm before the storm it was barely a blip on her radar, because her whole life had been one flood after another. To make matters worse, she needed Vincent's help again. She put on her shoes and braced herself mentally for the battle that would most certainly ensue when she knocked on his door. Foregoing an umbrella, she grabbed her raincoat and walked out on the porch. Before she could change her mind, she took off on a dead run, enduring sheets of rain with lightning and thunder in the background. Disheveled and wet, she ran up to Vincent's door and knocked. She waited several seconds, and no answer. She knocked again, and still no answer. Frustrated, she walked toward the back of the house and knocked on the door, surprised it opened slightly as her fist hit the door. Walking through the door, complete darkness surrounded her. "Vincent, are you there? I need your help."
Fortunately the lights flickered on at that moment as Catherine heard a faint noise.
"Vincent, can you hear me. My roof collapsed in the kitchen and I need your help. Although it may be pointless, considering the current weather conditions, I thought maybe you could come up with a temporary fix until tomorrow."
Still no one responded. Catherine began to worry. Something had to be wrong if Vincent hadn't appeared by now. Spotting a light spilling into the hallway from a room, she moved cautiously in that direction. Upon reaching the door, she glanced inside, and to her horror, she found Vincent sprawled out on the floor convulsing.
Running to his side, she kneeled down. "Vincent, what happened?" He didn't answer as he continued moving uncontrollably. Just as she stood to go call 911, she spotted a pill bottle. She snatched the bottle off the sink and read the label, quickly theorizing what happened. If he had indeed mixed the pills and alcohol, he was most likely in the throes of an overdose. Catherine analyzed the situation as well as her available options. He could possibly die before help arrived and she wouldn't be able to live with herself, knowing there was a chance she could have saved him. Committing herself to the task at hand, she kneeled back down on the floor and turned Vincent's head sideways. Using her hands, she opened his mouth and stuck her index and middle finger on his tongue and moved slowly until she reached the back of his throat, triggering his gag reflex, inducing vomit to spew forth. Suddenly his breathing became faint and Catherine feared she was losing him. She tried not to panic.
"Breathe, Vincent. Don't you dare die on me, you hear me! You are a soldier. You fought for your country, now fight for your life and breathe."
She grabbed his head and held it down, causing his mouth to expel more vomit. Soon his breathing began to return to normal and Catherine relaxed a little.
"I need to call 911 so you can be checked out thoroughly."
Vincent looked at her and shook his head.
"Then you better be prepared to explain to me how and why you overdosed. First let's get you in the shower.
Vincent stood up, using the sink as leverage. He unbuttoned his pants, before turning around. "A little privacy please," he said in a hoarse voice.
"Screw your modesty. I'm driving this car tonight, so you might as well get comfortable. I control the speed, direction, and turns. You are a passenger and you will abide by my rules or I WILL call for an ambulance to come take you to the hospital. You may see me as a good girl, but if you try my already thin patience, you may wish you were in hell when I finish with you. Now, since we both understand the ground rules, let's get this show on the road. Get in the shower and I'll clean this mess up."
Catherine turned the shower on while Vincent stripped down to his birthday suit. She talked a good game and put up an even stronger front, but when her eyes feasted on Vincent's smoking hot body, she was sure Christmas had come early. If there was a heaven on earth, she was positive she was looking at it. He was carved, sculptured, cut, and chiseled to perfection. Even the scar on his leg was sexy. He stepped into the shower and her heart nearly stopped. Water cascaded down his pecs and muscles, glistening under the light, sending her raging libido into overdrive. With barely a modicum of restraint, she left the bathroom on weak legs. Vincent chuckled to himself, realizing her bark was certainly louder than her bite. She was ripe for the picking, but he was smart enough to know that dog wouldn't hunt.
Following his shower, Vincent found Catherine in the living room flipping through a magazine. He dreaded having to divulge his secrets, but she had saved his life and deserved to know the truth. He was a firm believer that things happened for a reason. Maybe it was time to leave purgatory and purge himself of his demons.
Sitting in the chair across from Catherine, he realized he was nervous. It wasn't very often that he let down his guard and removed his mask. He looked at her and began to talk. "First, I want to apologize for my behavior earlier. Although, I was trying to protect you, I could have been nicer. As you can see my demons finally caught up with me. I'll keep the story short as possible and give you the facts. During my tour of duty in Iraq three years ago, a bomb exploded near our convoy. Several pieces of shrapnel pierced my leg, barely missing my blood vessels and nerves. The doctors extracted most of it, but some minuscule pieces remain. Months after I was discharged, I began to experience chronic pain from the residual shrapnel. I was prescribed pain medication to alleviate the intense pain and shortly after I became addicted to it. I was told once the scar tissue grows around the residual shrapnel, I can elect to have it removed. This process prevents further damage occurring to my leg. I'm sure I am ready now, but I've become so dependent upon the pills, I guess I didn't want to lose my safety net. Tonight I drank too much and I was upset. I made a mistake and I'm sorry you had to not only witness me at my worst, but save my sorry behind as well."
Vincent got up and went over to the sofa and sat down beside Catherine. He reached for her hand and looked into her eyes. "Can we start over?"
"On one condition."
"Name it."
"You have to go to counseling and possibly rehab. I know you were taking the medicine for pain, but I also think you were using it to cope with the memory and flashbacks of war."
He smiled. "When did my pigtail wearing friend get so smart? I'll go because it's the right thing to do, and I want to get better. Knowing I also get to keep you as my friend makes it worth it."
"I'll be there for you every step of the way. As I told you earlier, I have my own demons too, but I'm a work in progress. I've been a spectator in my own life for far too long. I refuse to let the past continue to define how I live my life In the present. I am free of shackles, hurt, pain, and the need to be validated. Most of all I am free from needing the love of a mother who can't and won't ever love me. I am free to be plain old me. Take it or leave it."
"Well let's be free together. Tomorrow will be our first day of freedom together. Goodbye beer, pills, pain and flashbacks. I am free. Hopefully of bad weather as well."
Catherine jumped up. "My house! I came looking for you because my roof collapsed in the kitchen. I'm sure it's a disaster area by now. We may be free of many things, but evidently problems isn't one of them," she said looking worried.
Vincent hugged Catherine. "Don't worry I happen to know a very skilled contractor that will be more than happy to repair your roof. If I'm not mistaken, he owes you his life."
I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER. THANKS FOR THE WONDERFUL REVIEWS. I HOPE YOU WILL KEEP THEM COMING, BECAUSE I LOVE READING EVERY ONE OF THEM. THANKS FOR YOUR TIME AND FEEDBACK.
SPECIAL THANKS TO DEBBIE GREEN FOR BEING MY CONSULTANT.
