by Alam, Donna
‘What, what is it?’ Sitting, his hand grasps my arm, his eyes intense. ‘You mustn’t believe anything he says.’
‘Not him. You!’
‘Don’t confuse me with him,’ he says, his hand falling away
‘Why? You both fuck around.’
‘Kate,’ he utters, confused. ‘You have to know you mean the world to me.’
I jump out of bed, dragging the sheet with me. ‘How? How am I supposed to know exactly? Maybe you treat all your friends this way.’
‘Friends? What, you take issue—you think there’s a title to encompass what we have?’
‘I thought it was maybe friends who fuck?’ My tone is arsey again.
‘People who fuck can never be friends.’ His voice is quiet, frighteningly so, and in complete contrast to my own. ‘Relationships have balance, not equality. Give and take.’
My hand tightens on the sheet, clasping the last vestiges of my dignity to my chest. With the other, I sweep the trailing ends from my feet with the decorum of a debutante dressed in a ball gown. Without thought for the future, only for the past, I try to hide the strain in my forcibly lowered voice.
‘Then I’d like you to take yourself out of my bed.’
He doesn’t move, just stares up at me.
‘You heard me. Get up. I’d like you to leave.’
‘Because Essam fucks around, you’re going to kick me out?’ Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he swipes his discarded pants from the floor.
‘No, because cheating means nothing to you. I can’t be with someone like that. Marriage is supposed to mean something. Love and honour, for a start. I can’t be with someone who thinks it’s okay to fuck someone else’s wife.’
Pain from the past reaches my throat in a sob. I’ve barely cried over my never-was marriage since leaving Australia, why would my body choose to do so now? God, my dress. It’s still hanging on the back of my old bedroom door. Shoes and veil in a box on the dresser. I hold a hand to my eyes in an attempt to control the flow.
Self-fucking sabotage!
‘Grow up, Kate. Marriage doesn’t always equate to love, especially here.’ His tone is ice-cold as he begins to stab his legs into his pants. ‘I don’t concern myself with labels and don’t give a fuck what people think. You might want to try it. It might loosen you up.’
His words land like a slap as the doorbell rings. Without really thinking through my state of undress, I begin to stamp my way out of the room, dashing hurt from my cheeks with the back of my hands, his words following me out.
‘You’re about to answer the door wearing bedding!’
‘I thought you didn’t care what people think!’
I yank the door wide, my breathing as hard and as fast as a fat bloke at a rave. A fat bloke wearing overalls.
A tiny jolt of panic halts my pulse as I open it wide.
‘Hey, Katie.’ Warm but tired, his eyes are as travel-worn as the clothes on his back. ‘I’ve come a long way, babe. You gonna invite me in, or what?’
Life is a filthy, dirty trickster with the ability to convince you that up is down. Just when you think you’re sorted, when you think you can divide the wood from the trees, it drops a great fucking branch on your head.
I can’t speak. No, really, I can’t as Kai’s hand clasps my shoulder. With gravitas.
‘Who is this, habibti?’
I brave a glance to his face, unable to find the words to answer as I stare into the dark, simmering depths of his eyes.
‘I’m her fiancé,’ Shane interrupts from the doorway. ‘Babe, who the fuck is this?’
Part Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
‘Habibti, who is this?’
My shoulder warms under the weight of Kai’s hand, his thumb massaging the blade almost pointedly. Tucking the sheet tighter under my arms, I can feel myself shake, rage extinguished by a blanket of shock. Never in a hundred years, hell, in a millennium, could I have anticipated Shane turning up on my doorstep in Dubai. I hardly left a forwarding address.
‘Habib . . .’ Shane’s eyes are now saucer-wide. ‘You haven’t changed your name, have you? Gone whatsit . . . changed religion, ‘cos your mum’ll go spare!’
‘Of course I haven’t.’ The tips of my fingers tremble as I hold them to my lips. ‘It means darling,’ I mumble robotically, my stomach beginning to feel sick.
Instantly, Shane’s blue eyes go from saucers to slits. His whole posture changes as he straightens, bracing his hands on the sides of the doorframe. This is obviously for Kai’s benefit, not mine. For a moment, I’m grateful he’s behind me, because at least I can’t see his expression.
‘Mate,’ Shane drawls, his accent excessively pronounced. This isn’t the Shane I know, the man from Ascot, the enclave of Brisbane that’s as posh as it sounds. This is Shane, the dick head. The one who, in times gone by, liked nothing more than to cause trouble and brawl. For fun. ‘I dunno about ‘round here, but where I come from calling another bloke’s girl darlin’ gets your teeth smashed down the back of your throat.’
Despite his posturing, I know he gets it. I’m dressed in a bed sheet and Kai is shoeless and wearing not much more. You don’t need a Ph.D. to work out we’ve been doing the naked dance. I’d imagine this is enough to point out that I’m no longer his girl. That and the fact that I mailed back his ring.
Part of me—a big part—wants to gloat. Ask him how it feels, seeing the evidence of someone you professed to love doing someone else. It hurts, I know that well enough. And while it might be kinda satisfying to hear just how much it hurts, it might also go some way to explaining how he can look so bloody smug.
‘Have you knocked your head or something?’ I don’t give Kai time to answer, don’t want him involved.
Grasping the edges of the door with the intention of slamming it closed, even if it is on his fingers, I end up stumbling over the sheet and being caught by two sets of hands. The hands struggle to right me, grabby and possessive, like housewives fighting over something in a department store bargain bin.
‘Get off! Leave me alone!’ With one hand, I push them away, the other still clasping the sheet at my chest.
‘You heard her, piss off!’
This from Shane, puffing his chest like a gorilla in my midst, as he attempts to step over the threshold to a wall of Kai.
As Kai straightens almost languidly, his demeanour is utterly unconcerned, but I can see the suppressed fury jumping in the pulse in his jaw. His movements seem to belie the way his weight-bearing shifts, preparing to protect me. Or maybe half preparing on a fight. It’s not an aggressive stance by any means, but he seems to grow larger, despite his already considerable height advantage over me and probably three inches over Shane. Not that it matters. Appearances can be deceptive. Shane may be a lot of things I don’t like, but he also happens to be very good with his fists from way back.
‘Maybe you’d like to make me? Take this outside?’ By Kai’s tone, anyone would think he was discussing stepping out for nothing more than a breath of air.
I step between the posturing pair before words come to blows.
‘What the hell are you doing here, Shane?’ My hair has fallen across my face and I shove it behind my ears.
Eyes flinty, Shane’s attention slowly lowers to me. ‘I came here for you.’ He says this like it’s obvious, like he’s expecting me to just fall into his arms.
‘Seriously?’
A hand finds a place on my hip, which I appear to have cocked in a moment of supreme attitude. Shame the effects are concealed by swaths of gazillion thread count Egyptian cotton.
‘Katie, you just up and left. The house is still full of your stuff and—’
I can’t help it; this isn’t the response I would’ve envisioned, if I’d anticipated him turning up at all. With the tips of my fingers, I push him hard. The effect is less than satisfying.
‘So, what? You decided you needed to talk to me for logistical reasons? You couldn’t have just
put it all into storage and sent the bill to my mum?’
‘Where d’you think I got the address?’ Unmoved, quite literally, he folds self-satisfied arms, his next words hitting like a smug accusation. ‘Like you knew she would.’
My blood begins to boil.
‘What the fuck, Shane!’
My hands are in the air an instant before they’re needed to grab the sheet as it almost falls. But I’m not sure who’s most shocked by my temper: him or me. Even after I found him sprawled over a half-clad stripper, I never raised my voice once. Now I’m yelling and pushing him, and honestly, I think this is more to do with my disappointment of Kai.
‘Habibti, go and dress.’
The concealed reason for my ire places his hand on my shoulder once more, turning me from the door. The very essence of distaste washes across his face as he eyes Shane over my head.
‘Not on my account, mate. I’ve seen it before. Might even have some pictures somewhere.’ Shane ends this statement with a smile three parts sneer, the absolute shit. ‘And who the fuck are you?’
Our awkward party of three watches Kai’s finger as it glides across my bare collarbone, drawing down the small distance between bone and breast. His finger comes to rest at the edge of the sheet, where he rubs it between forefinger and thumb. I’ve barely the opportunity to suppress the resulting shiver when Kai opens his mouth and spoils the effect, his tone derisive—a cut-glass contemptuous drawl.
‘Do I really need to spell it out? If you were any closer, you’d undoubtedly smell me on her skin.’
I’m aware my mouth is open, probably flapping like a landed fish, instantly reminded of the conversation that forced me to open the door wearing this bloody sheet in the first place.
‘You . . . you . . . just . . . stay out of this,’ I grate out, anger shimmering across my skin as I try to pull away as his arm bands across me, locking me in.
‘I get it.’ My head snaps back at Shane’s at his contrite tone. He slides a hand roughly through his dark-blond hair, his gaze now on his shoes as they worry the edge of the welcome mat. Ironic, or what? ‘He’s a revenge fuck. Didn’t take you long though, babe.’
If I’m a fish out of water then he’s a bottom feeder. A crud-sucking leech.
‘How the fuck dare you! You screwed a stripper! In our new home!’
Tears prick like glass in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks. I dash them away with the back of my hand, determined not to sob, to not be that girl. To not give him the satisfaction.
‘I’m so sorry—I got caught up in it all, it was a huge mistake!’ Excuses continue to fall from his mouth as he holds out placating hands. ‘I am so so very sorry, babe. I was an arsehole—I get that. I told myself what happens on a buck’s night—’
‘Stained my sofa!’ I yell, feeling like this is an important point to make, for some reason. Maybe I’m mourning the loss of my corner suite as well. ‘And your buck’s night was the week before, you prick.’
With this, at least, he has the sense to look contrite. ‘I know. That’s what I was trying to say. I panicked, got cold feet. Screwed up! The thought of only ever being with you . . .’ Horror swims through his eyes as he pleads again. ‘Katie, I need you to give me a second chance. I’m sorry—’
‘Sorry you got caught, more like. Just . . . just leave.’ I clench my fists by my sides, determined not to lash out further, despite my right fist tingling with the desire to meet his square chin.
‘What happened to for better or for worse?’
And I laugh. One hand on my chest. A deep laugh that sounds like it’s been dragged from the depths of my toes.
Really? I don’t remember him being that dumb.
‘We didn’t get that far before you got caught with your dick hanging out. Guess who caught the worse end of that?’
I don’t want to hear his bullshit, don’t want to relive the whole ordeal, that’s why I left. Poor Kate cheated on by her fiancé. Poor Kate couldn’t keep her man.
Shane smiles back at me, uncertainly. Or it could be wind. Looks painful enough.
‘But, babe—’
I hold up a hand, the other reaching for the door handle. ‘Don’t. I mean it; you’ve got nothing I want to hear.’
‘—I came all this way for you. For us.’ His tone is so sorrowful, his words would convince most. But then again he’s proved himself to be a pretty adept liar in the past. Fool that I am.
‘On your way to that conference? Gee, I feel so special.’ Maybe he thinks I’ve forgotten he’s due in the UK this week for work. He hasn’t flown all this way to see me. He’s just stopped off on the way.
‘No, I came early,’ he adds hurriedly. ‘Rearranged the whole thing. I needed to see you, Katie. We need to talk.’
I spin back on my heel. ‘That was the whole point of me leaving. I never wanted to set eyes on you again.’
‘Babe, you don’t mean that.’ His hand reaches out and before I know it’s happened, I find myself behind Kai, his fingers tight on my wrist as he tucks me close.
‘You heard her. She’d like you to fuck off.’
His voice is murderously low, the muscles of his bare back, coiled and tense, shift like a current under my hand.
‘What you gonna do about it, pretty boy?’
I’d give Shane points for bravado if he wasn’t seriously pissing me off.
‘Leave it.’ I wrap my hands around Kai’s curled arm and try to tug him away. It’s like trying to move marble.
Cold fingers of anxiety raise the hairs on my neck because, Kai may be the taller of the two, may look like he can take care of himself, but Shane is dangerous. Does boxing for fitness. Grew up tough.
‘Please, Kai. It doesn’t matter.’
His hand touches my cheek, his eyes warm on mine. ‘Sweetheart, it absolutely does.’
Shane’s head recoils. Kai’s fist retracts—I didn’t even see his arm move until its retreat. I might squeal a little as he lunges out into the hall, both of their bodies bumping off walls and doors in an all-out brawl.
‘Stop! Stop it, for God’s sakes!’ I’m yelling, standing in the hallway, the welcome mat like needles beneath my bare feet. ‘You’re acting like yobs!’ Kai’s forearm pins Shane against the wall by the neck, causing splotches of pink and purple to burst across his skin. ‘Stop, Kai, please!’
My yelling seems to pierce his intent, eyes still flashing viciously as they cut to my face, seeming to search for some kind of sign or recognition. Of what, I couldn’t say. After an endless moment of staring, his head turns, dark eyes now pinning his captive against the wall.
‘If she wants to see you, she will call. You will not approach her again, is that understood?’
‘You her fucking keeper?’
Shane’s sneer doesn’t last long as the arm rams against his neck once more, the back of his head thumping the solid wall, a wheezing grunt forced from his chest.
‘I said. Do. You. Understand?’
‘Come back inside, Kai, please.’ My voice is softer now, anger ebbing away and replaced once more by utter shock.
‘Come near her again and I promise you’ll learn what it is to be really hurt.’
With one last burst of pressure, he moves his arm, leaving Shane bent double, gasping and rubbing his neck.
‘Please, Katie. I’m staying at the airport hotel,’ he wheezes, the back of his hand touching a raw spot on his lip. ‘I love you.’
‘You had no right to come here,’ I answer. ‘Not anymore.’
Kai’s bare feet are in my line of sight as I step in through the front door, closing it quietly behind. He doesn’t make any attempt to come closer as I raise my hurt and humiliated eyes.
‘Well, you wanted to know what brought me to Dubai.’
His head moves just once in acknowledgment before he turns away. Standing at the window, he stares out at the pale-coloured buildings beyond. ‘I’ve known about him, about your relationship, for some time.’
Stunned, all I can manag
e is a breathless sort of, ‘How?’
His answer is a shrug tinged with irritation, like an invisible coat a size too small.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I had to know more about you.’ Without seeing him move, his large hands are on my bare shoulders. ‘Do you think I really just want to be your friend? I had to know who you are!’
Teeth clenched, his jaw flexes as he shakes me, just once, the ends of his anger and adrenalin, pouring like quicksilver down my spine.
‘I don’t know what you want!’ I cry, struggling to shake free of his grip, angry at him, angry at myself for my reactions. And through it all, through the anger rolling across me in waves, from the fire in his eyes to the fingers tight at my arms, I want him. Want to wrap my hands around the back of his neck, drag him to the floor. Devour and be devoured.
His fingers tighten like the teeth of a trap. In an instant, his mouth is on mine; hard and unforgiving, demanding a response. Eyes screwed shut, I desperately want to meet him, fight him with both tooth and nail, but I don’t. Battling to keep my mouth soft to his hard touch, my hands lie limp at my sides, determined not to participate. Determined not to reach out.
He pulls away, and I blink, half expecting him to push me further, half hoping he’ll push me up against the door. Instead, he steps away and grabs his jacket, slung carelessly last night on the chair. The air is cold as he pushes past me. Pulling open the door, he steps through it without looking at me once.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Today is destined to be a very bad day. I know this as I stare at the ceiling, my body tense and aching, and it isn’t even dawn yet. If I were poetic, I suppose I could say my sheets are tangled with memories, the shapes of us lingering there. In reality, nights of tossing and turning will make your bed an uncomfortable mess. I’ve barely left it this whole weekend, preferring to lie here torturing myself, replaying it all in my head: the bombshell that pretty much detonated our relationship. His carelessness. Our differences. How can something that means so much to me, mean so little to him?