Mayhem || B. Bradshaw

Chapter 4

     "YOU SHAKE MY NERVES AND YOU RATTLE MY BRAIN," Bradley's husky voice erupted through the bar, and Lizbeth took a sharp breath as the pressure behind her eyes grew.

     She swallowed around a growing lump in her throat, pushing back the threatening tears as memories caught up with her.

     "Too much love drives a man insane."

     Lizbeth looked around the corner, and saw Bradley sitting by the piano. He had insisted that they had to get one, telling her that his life was on stake. He wouldn't survive without the piano and the song his Dad had always played for him.

     She beamed at him, and snuck up behind him as he delved into playing his heart out, singing at all his might, "You broke my will, but what a thrill."

     "Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!" Lizbeth joined in, laughing as Bradley's heart almost visibly skipped a beat. He looked behind him, and as soon as their eyes met, a grin spread across his lips.

     "I laughed at love, 'cause I thought it was funny," he continued, pulling her onto his lap as he let his fingers travel across the piano with ease and looked her in the eyes with a mischievous glint. "But you came along and you moved me, honey."

     Lizbeth smiled cheekily, and brushed away his hair from his face, meeting her forehead with his. His breath tickled her face as he whispered, "I changed my mind, this love is fine. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire."

     "Liz?" Bradley's voice echoed between the walls, and Lizbeth's head shot up from the table. Her messy brown hair framed her face as her lip quivered, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. How was she going to tell him?

     "Liz? Are you home? I'm back!" Bradley's enthusiasm was like a stab to Lizbeth's heart, but she pushed back the tears, and croaked out a small "here."

     Lizbeth could hear the elation in his approaching footsteps, and while she honestly would've delayed his return if she could, a part of her was relieved to have him back.

     She stood up slowly from her chair as she heard him round the corner, and turned around the moment he engulfed her in the best hug she had received in months.

     He relaxed under her touch, the tension in his muscles dropping the moment he put his arms around her. The lump in her throat grew, and she buried her face into the crook of his neck. She knew how he would react. He would be crushed. Would she do that to him? Tell him? But he had a right to know.

     The pain crushed her heart, and stabs assailed her body for every heartbeat. A silent sob broke through Lizbeth's mouth, and Bradley broke their embrace with an affectionate smile.

     "Liz," he said with a small laugh, cupping her cheek with his hand. "I didn't know that you missed me this much. If so, I would've begged them to send me home earlier."

     Lizbeth looked into his eyes, holding her hand gratefully over his. But she was unable to smile.

     "Liz?" Bradley asked, holding her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the consistent flow of tears. Concern laced his voice. "Hey, what's wrong?"

     "I–" Lizbeth diverted her eyes as tears continued to slip down her cheeks. She sniffed. "I–"

     "No–" Bradley paled. "Is it your Mom? Is she–"

     "No," Lizbeth shook her head. "It's– I– I'm so s–sorry, Bradley–" But she was unable to tell him, unable to look him in the eyes and let him know of what terrible thing she had done.

     Lizbeth let out a silent gasp as she blinked tears away from her eyes. It hurt too much, she couldn't stand it. The remembrance haunted her, but the presence of Bradley had amplified its capacity to destroy her. And she hated it.

     She took a look around her to see the whole bar jamming together with Bradley, but she couldn't get herself to sing along.

     The song continued as Bradley played around on the keys, and enjoyed the moment with the crowds. Lizbeth envied his ability to still be happy while actively reminding himself of his past.

     She wasn't like him. She wasn't able to enjoy it, she could barely stay anymore. The song neared the end, and Lizbeth knew she couldn't be there when it finished. They would all see her tear-stained face, and questions would arise. And she couldn't afford that. She couldn't take it.

     She threw one last look at Bradley, and unfortunately he looked back at her as well in that moment, his face faltering at the sight of her stained cheeks. Lizbeth bit her lip, and turned around, making her way out of the bar.

     She stepped out onto the sand, feeling the fresh air clear her head after an unduly painful afternoon, the chanting of Bradley's callsign disappearing with the closed door.

     Lizbeth took a moment to just relax in the evening atmosphere, letting herself forget what had just happened and feel the remaining tears dry on her face.

     Six years. Six years and you still can't handle him. What's wrong with you?

     She let out an irritated sigh, before making her way over to her car. How could she let herself be reminded of everything the minute she saw him?

     She had lived with him out of her mind for so many years, and had hoped for each day that the physical distance between them had been enough to help her get over him. But today proved that it hadn't.

     "Lizbeth?" The sound of Bradley's voice stopped her momentarily in her tracks and her heart skipped a beat, but she ignored it. Footsteps hurried behind her, but she increased her speed, and arrived at the door to the driver's seat.

     Just as she was about to grab the door handle, a hand stopped it from opening, and she let out an agitated breath.

     "Are you okay?" Bradley asked with concern, but Lizbeth refused to look at him. "Hey, Liz..." He reached out with his other hand towards her chin, but she slapped his hand away.

     "Stop it, Bradshaw," Lizbeth said through gritted teeth. "Let me go."

     "Liz, I'm sorry, okay?" Bradley said, his voice laced with guilt. "I didn't think–"

     "Leave it, Bradley," Lizbeth turned her head and glared at him, and the light in his eyes died. "Just let me go, I need to be alone."

     He looked down and nodded, and stepped aside so that Lizbeth could open the door. But just as she sat down in her seat and looked in the rearview mirror, she saw his afflicted face.

     No. Don't think about him anymore. It won't do either of you any good.