Raya frowns. “I’m looking for Drew.”
“You’ve found him.” Coral moves back, revealing me in all of my glory, boxers the only thing between me and stark bollock naked. I’m so fucking mad. So fucking mad, I can’t even speak.
Raya’s face is a picture of devastation, but I’m paralyzed by my anger, can’t even move my fucking eyeballs, let alone speak. As if this could get any worse, Georgia appears, too, making it a lovely wholesome scene of happy fucking families. “Mummy!” she squeals, running into Coral’s waiting arms. “Hey, Raya! Mummy, this is Dad’s friend. Her name is Raya.”
Coral casts an interested look my way. “Daddy’s friend, huh?”
Raya’s eyes meeting mine. The shock and hurt are rife. And there are tears. Fucking tears, caused by me. I want to stab myself repeatedly. “I’m sorry,” she chokes. “I shouldn’t have come.” She turns quickly on her flip-flops and darts away.
The door slamming snaps me back to life, followed by Georgia sprinting off into the kitchen in search of Coco Pops. I can’t see straight for the red mist sliding down my vision. I can’t breathe past the anger filling my lungs. “She seemed nice,” Coral says flippantly, slinking past me. I reach for her arm, grabbing it harshly. She’s pushed me too far. Drained me of patience.
I turn burning eyes onto her. “I fucking hate you.” I keep my voice low, mindful that Georgia is in the next room. I’ve sustained my civility for seven years in the presence of my little girl. I’m not about to change that now, no matter how much I’m seething.
“I’m sorry; shouldn’t I have answered the door?” Her face is so smug.
“Get out.”
“Oh my God.” She laughs, cold and cruel, yanking her arm from my grip and pointing to the door. “You mean to tell me you have feelings for her?” Her grin is sly. Cunning. She knew exactly what she was doing at that front door. “Why the hell would she want you?” she asks. “All you know what to do is fuck. And what is she, twenty?” More laughter. “Jesus, Drew. Any younger and you’ll be dating Georgia’s school friends.”
“Shut up, Coral.”
“Besides, she’s going to Australia.”
I recoil, alert. “How do you know that?”
She shrugs, like it’s of no consequence. “She texted you. I might have answered for you.”
My mouth drops open. “You did what?” I race to the bedroom to find my phone, frantically pulling up the messages. And there it is, a message from Raya telling me how sorry she is for her reaction, but she was shocked. She asks if we can talk. And I answer telling her to come over. She came here with hope. To try and fix things. And she got a strong dose of Coral instead.
Rage.
I turn and find Coral in the bedroom with me, a slap-worthy satisfied look on her face. God help me before I throttle her. I pace over, my nostrils flaring, and push my face close to hers. “Get the fuck out before I throw you out.”
“Fine.”
“And take Georgia.” I turn and head for the bathroom, mentally planning what I need to do. Coral being here has served like a detoxing scrub on my life. Backward, yes, given she’s the most toxic woman I’ve met. But it’s clarity amid my chaos. I’m such a fool!
I’m so set in my ways, they’ll bury me with my fucking chains. Chains that are now wrapped around my heart and being tightened by the second. I need to find Raya. I need to spill my heart. I need to stop stalling. God, what must she think? Secret daughter, secret woman.
“I can’t take Georgia,” Coral declares, stopping me at the bathroom door. “I have things to do.” She pulls on her dress and snatches up her bag. She doesn’t have things to do. She’s trying to hamper my rescue attempt.
“Coral, please.” I’m not past begging at this point. I need to fix this fuckup, and I can’t very well do that with Georgia in tow.
She smiles, tight and condemning. “Bye.”
“I hate you,” I seethe, thumping the doorframe.
“Why change the habit of a lifetime?” Off she goes, the fucking bitch.
The doorframe receives another thump at the same time the front door slams. “Urghhhhh!” I dash out to the kitchen to find Georgia drowning in Coco Pops, the bowl overflowing. She yelps as I lift her from the stool, the spoon hanging out of her mouth.
“Daddy!” Chocolate milk leaves a trail behind us as I cart her out of the kitchen to the bathroom. “Daddy, what are you doing?”
“We’re going on an adventure.” I plonk her on her feet and flip the shower on.
“An adventure?” She’s excited before she even knows where this adventure is taking us. “What kind?”
I put her in the shower, squirt some shampoo into her hair and start lathering it up.
Her innocence is beautiful, a light in my dark world. Grabbing a towel, I wrap her up and get down to her face level. “Remember Raya?” I ask.
“Your friend?”
“Yes, but I don’t just want to be her friend.” I take a quick drag of air, bracing myself to spill the deal. “I want to be her boyfriend.” I feel like I’ve just confessed a sin.
Georgia’s face is totally blank. What’s she thinking? “You love her?”
Love? I sigh, my eyes drifting from hers for a moment, as I think. Real hard. Is that what this is? The pain, the constant mixed-up state I’m in? The possessiveness, the wild reactions? Good God, I’m in love? “Yeah,” I whisper, pulling it all together, each piece clicking into place like an important part of the puzzle. “I think I do.” I return my attention to my little girl, praying she will accept this.
Georgia’s face is a picture of shock. I can’t blame her. Daddy’s never had a girlfriend. I take the tops of her arms, holding her tightly. “Pidge, this won’t change anything. You’ll still be number one.”
“But there will be Raya, too.”
“Well, maybe.” That’s if she’ll even listen to me. Give me a chance to explain, and then I have to stop her leaving. That’s what I’m most worried about. That she’ll go anyway, regardless of my desperate attempt to stop her.
As I look at my daughter, I see something building, and just when I’m certain she’s about to start crying on me, she literally bursts. “Quick!” she darts out of the bathroom, her speed unreal. “We need to find Raya and tell her you love her!” There are a collection of bangs and clatters, all drawers being pulled open and shoved shut. “I’ll wear a pretty dress!”
If I had time, I would cry with relief. But I don’t. So I match my girl’s urgency and rush to the shower.
Within ten minutes, I’m racing around my apartment getting dressed on the move, searching for my keys. “Georgia, have you seen Daddy’s keys?”
“Nope!”
“Damn it!” I turn out every drawer in my kitchen until I lay my hands on the spare set. “Let’s go.”
By the time we’ve made it down to the garage, I’m sweating. I hurry us across to my parking space, my parking space that’s minus my car. It takes a split second to figure out where it is. “No!” I yell, stomping over and standing where my car should be, circling, looking down, like I might find my Merc in one of the cracks in the concrete. “I can’t believe that woman!” I pull my phone out and dial Coral, turning away from Georgia’s alarmed face and hunkering, making my voice quiet and low, but I’m barely keeping my violence leashed. “You took my car,” I hiss when she answers.
“Planning on going somewhere?”
The strength of my grip around my phone would cut off her breathing in seconds if I had hold of her neck. I so wish I had hold of her neck. “You’re evil, Coral.”
“Oh, get over it. I’m doing you a favor.”
I hang up before I wreck seven years’ worth of effort to keep my hatred for Georgia’s mother contained when she’s around. Then I put in an emergency call. “Jesse, I need a favor.”
* * *
Half an hour later, Sam pulls up in his Porsche, roof down with Jesse in the passenger seat. Georgia races over to the car, beside herself with excitemen
t. “Uncle Jesse! Uncle Sam! We’re going on an adventure to find Raya and tell her Daddy loves her!”
That’s twice in two days I’ve blushed. “How exciting!” Sam jumps out and pulls the seat forward for Georgia to climb in.
“Don’t take the piss,” I mutter, following her into the backseat and buckling her up.
Sam’s back in the driver’s seat quickly and zooming out onto the main road.
“This is exciting.” Jesse cranes his neck back, getting Georgia in his sights. “Daddy’s in love!”
My intention to snarl at him is interrupted when Sam takes a corner fast, forcing me to grab his head rest. “Jesus, Sam, calm down. Georgia’s in the damn car.”
“Faster!” she chants.
“Yeah, faster!” Jesse laughs, arms up in the air. “Like this, Georgia!”
Her laughter, a laughter that under normal circumstances would make my heart swell, just amplifies my anxiety. My heart isn’t able to swell, because it’s currently chained in my chest, and the only person who holds the key to free it, to let it pulse again for anything more than just Georgia, might have given up trying to unlock it. And that would be the end of me. Like the final nail in a coffin that’s kept me safe for so long. I don’t want to be safe anymore. I don’t want to be alone. I want Raya.
“Dad.” Georgia smacks my knee, at the same time smacking me from my ever-increasing despondency. “Uncle Sam is talking to you.”
I look up to the rearview mirror. “What?”
“Where to?”
“Where to?” I parrot, rummaging through my head for Raya’s address. “Belgravia.”
“And what’s the plan?” Jesse turns back to face me.
“The plan?”
“Jesus, it’s worse than I thought.” He sighs, rubbing at his forehead. “What are you going to say to her? The poor woman thinks you’re shacked up with Coral and a kiddie.”
“What’s shacked up?” Georgia asks as my palms land over her ears, protecting her from the adult conversation.
I toss Jesse a dark look. “Please, I feel like I’m scarring her for life enough already.”
He rolls his eyes. “So what are you going to say?”
“I’m going to tell her not to leave.”
“Yeah, she might need a little more than that.”
“I’m going to tell her that I like her. A lot.”
His hands motion in circles, like I should continue, except I don’t know where to go next. My powers of persuasion will be limited with Georgia around. I won’t be able to talk about our connection, our chemistry, or the amazing sex. How her hands are like pokers on my skin every time she touches me. How my mind is constantly on her, imaging her in every position, including in my bed every single night. How she lightens my life beyond Georgia. How she makes me a better man, how I just know she can wholeheartedly trust me. How she can depend on me. How I promise to take care of her forever. How she’s given me a new purpose.
“Cry,” Sam says over his shoulder. “Chicks dig it when a man cries over them.”
I balk, appalled by the suggestion. “That ain’t happening.”
Jesse laughs, deep and rich. “Have you ever shed a tear?”
“No.” I wriggle in my seat, uncomfortable with the tiny stabs of something at the back of my eyes.
* * *
I’m literally quaking when Sam rolls up outside Raya’s place. I still have no idea how to convince her to stay, convince her that I’m worth her trust and effort. Sam whistles as he gazes up at the impressive property, and Jesse lifts his shades to get a better look, while Georgia is standing on the back seat staring in awe. “Does she have more money than you, Dad?”
“And cue the balls shrinking,” Sam breathes.
“Balls shrinking?” Georgia asks, utterly confused. “Balls can’t shrink, Uncle Sam.” She starts chuckling. “Silly!”
I give up, smacking the back of Sam’s head before swinging my body over the edge of the car. “Wait here.” I pace the street, my stare glued to the SOLD board displayed outside. I’ve never felt so vulnerable. So hopeful and hopeless. A huge part of my brain is trying to scare me off, yelling at me that I’m wasting my time, that she won’t even entertain my explanations. But I beat back the fear and worry, and cling to the fraction of hope, raising my hand to knock the door.
I nearly fall through the damn thing when a man swings it open. “Who the hell are you?” I blurt before I can stop myself, aware of the aggression in my stance and tone. Never mind that this could well be Raya’s solicitor, or maybe even just a friend. I haven’t got the strength for patience.
“That’s none of your damn business.” His expression is fierce, his chest puffy and threatened. His hostility tells me he is neither of those things.
Wait. Please tell me this isn’t her scumbag ex. The fucker who crapped all over her? I look past him, seeing stacks of boxes in the hallway, pictures off the walls, garbage bags piled high. “Are you Dean?”
Hands up, he reverses his steps. “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t want any trouble.” He’s changed his tune. Must be the sudden angry twitching of my body.
“Where’s Raya?” I ask, dangerous and low, fighting to keep my hands by my sides to stop them from smashing his face in.
“She’s gone.”
I react on impulse, reaching forward and fisting his shirt in my hands, yanking him out of Raya’s house. “So what are you doing here?”
“I needed to know where she’s going.”
What? To try and win her back? Oh no. Patience completely gone, I lose the plot, shoving him away and swinging at him. My fist connects clean with his face, and he crashes to the ground on a pathetic wail, clenching his nose.
“Daddy!” Georgia’s shout is better at clearing the fog than being dunked in ice water. I swing around and find her running toward me, Jesse and Sam chasing after her.
“Raya’s already gone.” I swoop Georgia up and carry her back to the car, at the same time digging through my pocket for my phone. Raya’s voicemail clicks straight in. Those chains around my heart tighten further. “Raya, it’s Drew. I’m at your place. Wherever you are, please turn back. Please don’t go.”
“He loves you!” Georgia shouts.
“Shhhhh!” Jesus, wherever she is, she’ll probably be sprinting there now. “I need to talk to you. Explain. The woman at my place this morning is Georgia’s mother. There’s never been anything between us, I swear.”
“They’re just friends!” Georgia backs me up, God love her. Friends? Hardly, but it fills me with happiness in my turmoil that my girl believes that.
“You have to believe me, Raya. Please, just call me.” I hang up, lifting Georgia over the side of the car into the backseat as I call my last hope. Andrea answers within two rings. “I need the name and number for Raya Rivers’s solicitor. Now.”
“I’ll text it to you.”
I jump in and frame Georgia’s face with my palms. “I wish you hadn’t seen that.”
“Why did you hit him, Dad?”
“Because he was mean to Raya. It made Daddy mad.”
She gasps, disgusted, and jumps to her feet on the back seat. “You can’t be mean to Raya! My daddy loves her!”
“Georgia!” I pull her back down, my phone chiming. A quick tap on the message gives me the name and number Of Raya’s solicitor. I dial, and as soon as he picks up, I launch into a pile of bullshit. I tell him who I am—no lie. I tell him the buyer is threatening to pull out of the sale—big lie. I tell him that I need to speak to Raya urgently, but I can’t seem to get through to her—definitely no lie.
“Well, you’re not likely to, Mr Davies. Her flight leaves for Singapore at two.”
“Two?” My lungs shrink to nothing as my eyes rest on the glowing display of Sam’s dashboard. It’s already past noon.
I end the call, feeling numb. I’m too late. I’ve shat all over my one chance, ruined myself in the process, a sadist in the worst form.
“What?” S
am asks, waiting for some direction, his hands flexing on the wheel.
“She’s already gone.” I mumble, staring at the clock, another minute gone, the proverbial ticking time bomb. The countdown to my complete ruin. “The flight leaves at two.”
“We can make it.” Jesse goes straight to his phone. “Which airport?”
“Don’t know.”
“Airline?”
“Don’t know.”
“Flight number?”
I sigh, my head taking refuge in my hands. “Don’t know.”
Within the time it takes Sam to zip out of the parking space, Jesse is declaring our destination. “Heathrow, Terminal Five. I’ll have the gate number in a sec.”
I lean forward in my seat, grateful for their determination to help me fix my fuckup, but knowing we’re chasing our tails. “We’re in central London. If the traffic is kind, we might make it to Heathrow by one-thirty. She’ll have boarded and there’s no way I’m getting through security.”
I startle when Jesse suddenly reaches back and grabs my T-shirt, yanking me forward until I’m virtually on his lap. “Do you think I’d be where I am now if I’d let such trivial issues get in my way?”
Sam bursts into laughter. “Nothing about your issues was trivial, you twat.”
“What’s a twat?” Georgia pipes up from behind me.
Sam gives me a sorry glance.
“Nothing, pidge.” I glare back at him.
Jesse sighs, releasing me from his viselike hold. “Like three fucking men and a little lady.”
“What’s—”
“Nothing,” we all sing, and Sam puts his foot down, throwing me back in my seat.
Chapter 13
Trivial issue.
The team of airport staff beyond the barriers that are currently between us and the security checking area are definitely not a trivial issue. Any hope I had fades to nothing. “There’s not a chance in hell we’re getting through there.” I look down at my phone, a race against the clock. And I’m losing. She’ll be on the plane by now.
“You just need to be creative.” Sam produces two passports, a pair of boarding passes held in the pages.
All I Am--Drew's Story Page 10