Chapter Twenty-Eight

After we had our meal, Ian led me upstairs with him. When we approach his bedroom door he pauses for a short second and he presses his lips against my neck. I bite my lip, trying my hardest to suppress a moan. "Ian..." I sigh and pulling away, he chuckles. His eyes meet mine and their smiling like wild animals.

He pushes his bedroom door open and picks me up bridal style. I giggle loudly in surprise as he carries me towards his bed. "Haha...ehehe...." I make strange giggly noises under my breath. He grins and lays me down on his bed, I can't see properly as it's pitch black dark but at the same time, I couldn't give a shit. I just want him. He bends over me and latches his lips on my right ear, nibbling, biting.... teasing all over. I breathe out heavily, gripping tightly onto the routes of his dark brown hair. His hands begin to travel down my ribs, over my stomach, over my thighs.

Without warning, he suddenly grabs the back of my thighs, hitching my knees up in the air. Before I can say anything, he nestles himself between my legs and his lips are only centimetres from mine. His hot breath blows against my face and I have to blink a few times. I can't believe I get to have him all to myself. Then, I gasp as he begins to press his little mate against my core. Jeeze.

"Just do it." I moan out aloud. He laughs and without any sign of hesitation, he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. He pulls away and looks down at me, as if to admire me. I wriggle impatiently and scowl up at him as he hovers over me. He smirks and leans down, his lips crashing against mine. I sigh and try to wrap my arms around his neck to hug him close, but I can't as he is pressing them down above my head. I try again, struggling, wriggling my wrists free. I can't take it. I can't take the imprisonment. I cry in frustration and wrap my legs around his waist so tight that his buddy is pressing hard against me.

He groans in protest and grabs my chin, kissing me even harder. His tongue darts against my lips, begging for entrance. I allow him in with any hesitation and our tongues begin to fight hard for dominance. Of course, he won, and I let him take lead. His tongue invades my mouth, exploring every ounce of it. I involuntarily press my teeth together and bite his tongue. He immediately pulls away and hisses in pain.

"Shit." He curses. I look up at him wide eyed and smile apologetically. He releases a sharp breath and returns the smile. "You're one feisty young lady." He huskily says and I press my lips together, my cheeks beginning to slowly heat up.

He leans down to kiss me again but before our lips can touch, a knocking sound interrupts us. Then a sound of a doorbell. Ian pauses, his eyes fixed on mine.

"Alice!?! Alice!?!" Oh no... Miss Harrison.

Ian quickly climbs off of me and darts out of the room. As I sit up, I listen for Ian's fast footsteps down the stairs. A sound of the front door clicking open occurs to my ears and I quickly jump off the bed, straightening up my clothes.

"Hello, you must be Miss Harrison." I hear Ian say in a courteous voice.

"Yes, yes I am! I'm looking for Alice. Where is she?"

"She's just upstairs, I'll get her for you-"

"No need!" She interrupts him with a snappy voice, "Alice? Alice!?!"

I curse under my breath and make my way to the top of the stairs. Shit. This isn't going to look very good. When I reach the top of the stairs, I can now see Miss Harrison and Ian standing by the front door. Miss Harrison looks up at me with deeply concerned eyes, while Ian just looks down at his feet as if he should be ashamed of himself. He doesn't look up, not once. "Alice? Are you alright, dear?" Miss Harrison steps forward. I nod and slowly walk down the stairs. "I'm fine."

"I've been worried sick about you." She says in a quiet voice. I shrug helplessly in response, what does she want me to say? It's not my fault she forgot to pay my bills; I've lost my fucking home because of her. Ian, however, just stands there, motionlessly. It's like he's just switched himself off. Miss Harrison walks towards me as I step off of the stairs, and we're now the same level height. She takes my hand in hers and gives it a soft squeeze. "You look...different." She speaks. I blink and look down at myself.

"Do I?"

"Yes. You look like a totally different person..." She trails off. I look up at Ian who is now looking down at me with intense eyes. He smiles and looks at Miss Harrison, it's as if she knows exactly what she means. I don't have a clue.

"Oh..." She says breathily, as if in realisation. Before I can comprehend her words, my arms are being harshly gripped. "You're not wearing your hoodie." Her eyes are glued on my arms, inspecting each and every one of my scars. I feel little chills travel along my skin; I hate being so exposed like this. At a time like this, I really wish I was wearing my hoodie.

"I... I just didn't fancy wearing it."

"Since when?"

"Since now. It is getting close to Summer after all." I say in a shaky voice. She looks at me as if to inspect my face. Before she can reply, Ian steps towards the both of us, clearing his throat. "I suppose you two have got a lot to talk about. You can go in the front room and I'll leave you two to it." I nod and pull Miss Harrison towards the door to the front room. When I glance over Miss Harrison's shoulder, Ian is slowly walking away towards the dining room.

"What on earth are you up to, young lady?"

"What? What do you mean?" I ask innocently and shut the front room door behind us. I sit Miss Harrison on one of the red sofas. She stares up at me and sets her black handbag beside her. However, I don't sit next to her. Instead, I stay standing in front of her with my arms crossed over my chest. She gives me a curious look and leans forward, "You know exactly what I mean. Who's that man?"

"I told you. My English teacher?"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes." I growl through gritted teeth. "What the fuddie duddie are you doing in his house!?"

"He's looking after me for a bit! It's not my fault you didn't pay my bills!" I exclaim, pointing a finger at her in accusation. She gives me an appalled look and I scowl. "Don't pretend you don't know, Miss Harrison! You knew you hadn't paid my bills! I mean, what else do you expect me to do? Stay there and let them take my roof from me!?"

"It is most certainly not my fault! I just lost track!"

"Oh, sure! Sure, you did!"

"Look here, I just don't like the idea of you being in his house. He's your English teacher."

"Yes, I noticed." I moan in annoyance and make a move to start pulling my hair from the fucking routes. What part of this isn't she getting? I could have lost my home, for crying out loud! "To be honest, Miss Harrison...I don't think we should have anything to do with each other anymore."

"Now, hold on a minute-"

"NO! You let me down! You let me down, just like everyone else. I knew you would."

"You can't blame this on me, Alice. I was just concerned. It doesn't mean to say I don't care about you." She says in a soft voice, as if I am meant to feel sorry for her. "I'm just shocked that you're on your own with a full-grown man. I don't think it's very appropriate. You could have stayed with me."

"Why does it bother you so much!?" I yell in frustration. She sighs and looks down at her lap. "I never told you about my husband, did I?"

"Oh, don't start!"

"No, please. This is important." She says calmly and takes a deep breath. "My husband...he had cancer. Stomach cancer." My insides begin to flip, and I start to feel sick. Why is she saying this? Why now? She has never spoke about her husband before to me, instead she always dismissed the subject. Why now?

"We had been happily married for twenty-four years. He was diagnosed of stomach cancer 2002. He passed away in 2003. I'm 58 years old now, twelve years on and I still never forget that day..."

"What day?"

"The day, I helped him kill himself." My breath catches in my throat and I literally feel like crying. Oh my god, I didn't know her husband went through all of that. "It's called assisted suicide. He didn't want to die painfully of cancer, he just wanted to pass away peacefully. So, I... I poisoned him."

"What...?"

"It's called Euthanasia. A medication you give to them for them to die peacefully. In another word...poison."

"What has this got to do with Mr Dubens?"\

She sighs and sits up, "My husband was born 1951....I was born in 1957."

"So?"

"There's six years apart. So, in 1973, I was sixteen years old. How old do you think he was?" I close my eyes for a moment and try to calculate. Sixteen add six...equals. twenty-two. Twenty-two years old!?

"He was twenty-two?" I question. She gives me a slow nod, a frown beginning to take place on her pale face. "I met him in a classroom.... He was twenty-two years old and wore a navy-blue suit. He used to always wear a trilby blue hat." She giggles softly but it slowly dies as she begins to silently cry. Soon, her laughter turns into quiet sobs.

"Don't....he wasn't..."

"He was." She nods. "My Husband....was...my History teacher."