by Elouise East
Deep Down
Crush series, Book 4
Elouise East
Copyright © 2020 Elouise East
DEEP DOWN, CRUSH SERIES, BOOK 4
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Elouise East. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the internet or by any other means, electronic or print, without premising from Elouise East.
The unauthorised reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Please purchase only authorised electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights and livelihood is appreciated.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All products and/or brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holders/companies.
Publisher: Elouise East
Cover Design: Maria Vickers
Cover photo: feedough on depositphotos
Edited: Maria Vickers
Beta Readers: Courtney Green, Emma Brown
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Two years later
About the Author
Books by Elouise East
Dedication
For my family
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My readers
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I cannot express how much it means to me that you take the time to read what I write. Each book is penned with you in mind. I hope this book finds you well.
My betas
You’re amazing as always!
Maria Vickers
The voice of reason, advice, assistance and support who makes the publishing world a little easier to manage. Thank you.
Before
Chapter 1
Craig
Curled up in the corner of the room, Craig Talbot watched through one open and one slitted eye, goosebumps rising on his arms in the moonlight as he shivered in his jogging bottoms and t-shirt, not daring to make a sound of protest. There was a continual warm, metallic taste on his lips making him constantly wipe his mouth to stop any blood finding its way onto the carpet. He catalogued his injuries: a throbbing beat lanced through his head at every movement, his back ached, and he desperately needed to cough to clear his rattling airway but daren’t in case it woke Darren. Craig’s body couldn’t take anymore that night; as it was, he might have to go to hospital to have his left shoulder reset. At least his ribs seemed to be free from pain, meaning he could move around. Unlike last time.
Alternating between closing his eyes to snatch some rest, checking his pain levels and keeping his eyes open so he could watch for when Darren woke, Craig spent the night extremely tense. When Darren’s alarm finally ripped through the silence the following morning, Craig was exhausted and stiff. He winced as his muscles seized in anticipation of Darren’s mood.
Silently, he observed as Darren pressed his alarm before throwing the covers back and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, facing away from Craig. Darren rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair before squinting over his shoulder.
“I need to leave in thirty minutes. Make sure my breakfast is ready to take with me.” Darren stalked to the bathroom, closing the door with a click.
Craig didn’t reply, it would earn him nothing except animosity if he did. Unfurling his legs, he strained to speed up his movements whilst attempting to minimise his pain by holding his forearm against his stomach and not bump into anything. After a night like last night, Darren would expect a breakfast burrito with vegetables. Craig hurried to the kitchen, eyeing the pattern on the floor along the mirrored hallway and removed the food from the fridge. Pain knifed through his shoulder, but he worked, cradling it against his side, coughing intermittently to clear his throat.
Managing to cook the mix for the burrito alongside filling Darren’s lunch box with low-fat yogurt, almonds, berries, protein bars, bananas, apples and cottage cheese, Craig worked in a frenzy.
Darren barrelled in as Craig slid the burrito into a wax bag. Craig held out the lunch box and a travel mug of coffee. “You made it in time for once.” Darren snatched the items, leaning forward to press a kiss to Craig’s cheek before grimacing. “You need to clean yourself up.” Craig tensed and bit back a hiss at the shooting pain as Darren nudged past him. “See you later. Roast beef for dinner tonight. Six o’clock.”
Darren’s hand was on the door handle when Craig called his name quietly, and he glanced back, eyebrow raised.
“I may need a doctor to look at my shoulder.” Craig was unsure how Darren would respond, but Craig needed to be checked over. A dislocated shoulder couldn’t be repaired as easily as other bumps and bruises.
“Huh. Well, see how you go today, and we’ll talk at dinner.” With those words, Darren left, slamming the door behind him.
Craig exhaled slowly but held himself upright, waiting in case Darren returned. Darren had done that once before and had shocked the hell out of Craig. Setting out his own breakfast at the time, Darren had slammed back in the door, swearing and cursing when his car hadn’t started. Craig had forgotten to remind Darren it was due for a service.
When no one entered, Craig sighed and rested back against the counter, grateful his breathing was unimpaired, apart from when pain stole through him. A doctor’s visit would be necessary as his shoulder sent fire through him with every movement, but he’d have to wait until later. He needed Darren’s help to drive him there anyway.
Craig poured some cereal, snagged a banana and shuffled onto a chair at the kitchen table as gingerly as he could. Once he demolished the food, he removed a beef joint from the freezer to defrost ready for dinner and trudged to the bedroom to shower. Carefully, he took off his clothes, placing them by the door for when he finished, then entered the shower. With every swipe of the washcloth, he groaned or hissed, especially when the soap made contact with his broken skin, but eventually, he was clean enough to pass muster.
After that painful process, he instigated another, redressing in a similar outfit. Breathing heavily, Craig picked up his clothes from the doorway and drifted back to the kitchen to put on a load of washing; Darren hated it when there were dirty clothes lying around.
Once his morning domestic duties were complete, he went to his office, his lethargic state receding despite his lack of sleep. It was time for work.
Craig loved designing websites. Using his specific skill set, he could create something unique and perfect for a person and their requirements. Yes, sometimes it took a long time to create exactly what they wanted, but the result was worth it. In fact
, Darren had been one of his customers; it was how they’d met. Craig had been designing for several years, and they’d hit it off straight away. The rest was history. Craig had built a successful business and had a waiting list; it was unbelievable how many people would prefer to wait for him than to ask someone else to do it. Not that he was complaining—he wasn’t—it just blew his mind.
Concentrating on putting the fonts and pictures exactly as the author wanted them on his current project, Craig was wholly focused, clicking here, coding there, moving things around until it fit where it needed to. This job was more or less complete. It would’ve been completed yesterday, but there had been an issue with one of the coding pieces; the site wouldn’t accept it. It had taken extra time to set it right before everything would fit into place. Now, he was doing the finishing cosmetic touches to ensure he ticked all the boxes the author had requested.
Pausing, he peered at the clock, surprised it was lunchtime. He logged his time on the spreadsheet he used for accounting and locked his computer. He wasn’t sure why he did, but every time he left his computer, he made sure to secure it. Maybe it was left over from when he was at uni, and they had taught them to do it as a safety precaution. Standing, he gasped as a spasm knifed through his back and shoulder, and he braced his good hand on the desk, head lowered, breathing shakily through the fire. When it had calmed enough to take a deep breath, he stood slowly. Momentarily, he wished for pain relief but shook his head, annoyed at himself for being selfish. He wasn’t in enough pain where he would take the tablets away from Darren should he need them.
Entering the kitchen, he reached for a noodle packet and emptied it into a pan. While the water heated, he plucked a glass from the shelf, filled it with cold water from the tap and drank heartily, ignoring any twinging complaints. When it was empty, he refilled it and set it on the table, placing a fork and spoon next to it. Within minutes, the noodles were ready, the spicy scent hovering in the air, and he sat to feed his grumbling stomach. Checking if Darren had left any messages on his phone—he hadn’t—Craig enjoyed the silence and finished his meal, the warmth radiating out from his abdomen.
Bowl empty, he half-filled the sink with hot soapy water, washed and dried the equipment he’d used before putting everything back away where he had found them. Confirming each thing was in its place, he nodded and shuffled back to the office. Craig was sure he could finish the website before the end of his day.
He did. By the time four o’clock rolled around, he had finished the author’s website, contacted the author and logged his hours to enable Darren to send the invoice, even when he’d stopped for ten minutes to put the meat in the oven so it would be ready on time.
Craig stretched from his desk cautiously, wincing when he couldn’t reach his left arm above his head. He needed a doctor to check it, without a doubt. Hopefully, Darren was in a good enough mood to take him. Time would tell.
He strode towards the kitchen again, ready to prepare dinner. By the time he had retrieved the pans and ingredients, his eyes were watering, and his breaths were coming short and sharp. Craig ignored his reaction and carried on cooking.
The door opened behind him as he finished mashing the potatoes one-handed.
“Nice to see you have followed instructions. Plate it up. I’m starving.” Darren kissed Craig on the forehead and hustled to his chair. Craig watched out the corner of his eye as Darren slipped off his jacket and hung it on the back. Craig had already set the table, the only thing missing were the plates of food. “How long did you work for today?” Darren asked as he sat.
“Six and a half hours.”
“What did you get done?”
“I finished the website for Mandy Templeton.” Craig waited for Darren’s response.
“You should’ve been finished before now. You’ve wasted time, and time is money.”
“I’m sorry. There were a few issues—”
“I don’t care. You’ve lost money because of it.” Darren’s voice was sharp, but Craig stifled his flinch, not wanting to drop the plate.
He placed the finished dinner in front of Darren, the large plate filled to overflowing with meat and vegetables and small portions of mashed potatoes, gravy and stuffing. As Darren was a personal trainer, Craig was well versed in what foods he could and couldn’t eat and in what portion sizes. In contrast, his own plate showed mainly mashed potatoes and vegetables and a small piece of meat and a tiny amount of gravy. Darren had explained that Craig couldn’t consume as much because he didn’t have an energetic job. He was grateful for everything Darren taught him, especially as he needed to watch what he ate so he didn’t gain weight.
Once dinner was finished, Darren traipsed off for a shower as was his usual routine, and Craig tidied, ensuring the kitchen was once again spotless. It took him longer than usual, but it was done, although he was in more pain than he had been in the morning. It was time to bite the bullet and discuss it with Darren.
When Darren returned, Craig approached him slowly.
“What?” Darren barked.
“I know I asked this morning, but I need to visit a doctor about my shoulder. It doesn’t feel right.” Craig bit his lip.
“Hmm. Show me.” Darren reached for Craig’s t-shirt and lifted it, revealing the blue and black bruising, and the usually curved-shape of his left shoulder was now square-shaped. Darren’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “Alright. Let’s get it fixed now. I’ll have to miss my programme.” He sighed.
“Would you like me to set it to record?” Craig hated Darren would miss it.
“Yeah. You do it while I get sorted. I need to take a piss first anyway.” He stormed off, leaving Craig to fiddle with the TV.
Within half an hour, they were on their way to the A&E in Cambridge. They lived on the outskirts of the city in a lovely detached house on a quiet cul-de-sac. Craig loved the view from the windows of the house, it was one of the reasons he had bought the house originally. It didn’t hurt to find out the neighbours were neither noisy nor nosy after he moved in, too.
Parking the car, they trailed towards the entrance. Darren spoke before they entered the building.
“You need to be more careful when walking at night. Muggers are always around.” Darren’s voice was sad.
Craig nodded. Darren didn’t need to voice the reminder as it was Craig’s mistake anyway. He would never say anything to bring Darren trouble for something which wasn’t his fault. Darren pointed to a seat in the waiting room, and Craig lowered himself tentatively, watching as Darren stood in line at the reception desk before speaking to the person behind the counter and whirling around to approach him.
“The wait is around two hours, but they might be able to get you in quicker.” He sat next to Craig, bumping against his shoulder. Craig winced but gritted his teeth, not a whimper escaping.
Darren flipped through some magazines, interjecting it with checking his phone, while Craig stared at the comings and goings of people through the doors. The disinfectant smell was not unique to hospitals although recognisable all the same; there was an almost tangible acidic taste in the buzzing atmosphere. Craig’s name was called over an hour and a half later.
“Follow me, please.” The doctor indicated the corridor and strolled ahead until he reached a room. “Have a seat on the bed, please, Mr Talbot.” The doctor swung around to Darren. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“Darren Corrigan. Craig’s boyfriend.” Craig watched Darren reach out a hand for the doctor to shake, which he did.
“Nice to meet you.” The doctor fixed his piercing blue eyes back on Craig. The doctor was handsome, Craig could admit, what with his military-short hair on the sides and back and the longer strands on top spiked up. The suit he wore under the white coat appeared to be in pristine condition and fit his frame exactly. The doctor’s words brought Craig out of his observation, “My name is Dr Alexander Wick. Mr Talbot, what seems to be the problem?” He flicked through the file he was holding while he waited for Craig
to answer.
“Craig was mugged last night. I’ve been asking him to come to the hospital all day, but he kept saying no. I finally put my foot down.” Craig left Darren to answer the doctor’s questions.
Dr Wick glanced at Darren, then at Craig. “Is that so?” Craig nodded. “You need to report it to the police.”
“We have done that already. They’re investigating,” Darren countered.
The doctor nodded slowly, studying the file before putting it on the table and shuffling to where Craig was perched. “Let’s check you over, shall we? Do you need help taking your t-shirt off?”
Craig nodded again. Dr Wick helped him manoeuvre to put less strain on his injured arm, and he whistled in response as the injury was visible.
“Yeah, it appears to be a dislocated shoulder to me. We’ll take you down to X-ray to confirm there’s no other damage. If it’s confirmed as a dislocation, we will give you some pain relief and work on setting it back in. Once all that is done, you’ll need to wear a sling for a few days to rest the joint.” Dr Wick focused on his computer as he talked and clicked a few buttons before twisting back. “I see you have a black eye, and your lip has been bleeding. Do you have any other injuries I need to be aware of?” The doctor stared straight at Craig as he asked.
Craig’s eyes moved to Darren, observing his minute nod before glancing back at the doctor. Craig nodded. “I have pain in my back, as well.”
The doctor strode around the bed to stand behind Craig. “I’m going to touch your back. I apologise if my hands are cold.”
Craig jerked slightly as hands prodded his skin on his lower back, caressing softer than he was expecting. Fingers probed his skin back and forth before two hands rested either side of his spine. He could feel a light flow of warm air against his skin.
“Were you kicked in the back at all?” the doctor asked.
Craig peered at Darren.