Mind Games - A Bad Boy Romance With A Twist

by Gabi Moore

  “None of that is true.”

  Round and round they went. The defense brought evidence that Elizabeth Cane was a happy, contented wife, and that her relationship with Jeff was idyllic. Bank statements were admitted, where enormous sums of money from Jeff were seen to be coming into Nora’s account. Then they dug into the leaked photographs of Cane himself. The images had been shocking once, but now, having been splashed all over the media for weeks, they’d taken on a bland life of their own, and no longer served their original purpose – to shame their subject. They were projected onto a screen, and the fact that Nora had them in her possession was hammered home. She explained that she had intended to get revenge, but decided against it, and it wasn’t in fact her that offered them to the press. It looked entirely unbelievable. Still, she sat calmly and stated her case. I was proud of her.

  Just when I thought they were done, the attorney again came around to Elizabeth. Bizarrely, he projected up a picture of Elizabeth on her wedding day, in a sea of white tulle with jewels on her head and a dazzling smile for the camera. Why was he harping on this, of all things?

  “What do you see Nora?” he asked. Nora seemed a little surprised.

  “Elizabeth Cane?”

  “That’s right. But what else do you see?”

  “Objection.”

  “Sustained. Mr. Bligh, please, I think the court room has had enough of this antagonism.”

  “Indeed. My apologies. Tell me, Nora, is this a wealthy woman? A beautiful woman?”

  Nora narrowed her eyes.

  “Well, obviously…”

  “Would you call her successful?”

  “Sure.”

  “Maybe you were a little envious even? This was the biggest wedding of the year. Celebrities came, millions were spent, the whole nine yards.”

  “I wasn’t envious.”

  “You weren’t? Tell me, do you think you could ever have a wedding like this?”

  Low grumbles came from the benches.

  “I don’t see what--”

  “Ms. Smith, I understand. Really, I do. Would you say there’s a lot of stigma against people working in your field?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “It would be difficult to go from that to …this, right?”

  “Sure, but…”

  “Coming from your background, it would be almost impossible to have that life, to have wealth and the love of a good man and a legitimate, proper job, right?”

  Nora stewed.

  “I can’t imagine how awful it must be to have a relationship with a man and know that after everything, he chose to be with this lovely woman instead, and drop you entirely. You must have thought you were special to him. But he abandoned you and left you destitute and--”

  “Destitute? Who the fuck says I’m destitute?”

  The crowd whispered.

  “You might have made some fast cash, Ms. Smith, but could you say you had any honor? Any self-respect? Were you loved?”

  “How dare you. I chose that life. I was good at my job. I made people happy.”

  “Not happy enough for any one of them to marry you, though?” Again, more quiet laughter from the crowd. It was awful. I couldn’t believe that such a farce was really unfolding before my eyes.

  “Not everyone needs to get married,” she said.

  “And it’s just as well! Let me ask you again, were you jealous of their relationship?”

  I watched as Nora squeezed her eyes shut and tried to gather herself.

  “I have my own.”

  Silence.

  “I’m sorry, you have your own relationship?”

  The mockery in his voice was rage-inducing.

  “It’s not as though the only thing that matters in the world is to be in a relationship, but I do have one. Not everyone has your ridiculous beliefs about what a woman should be, not everybody--”

  “Please miss, tell us, who is this man who doesn’t mind that you’re a sex worker currently embroiled in a murder trial? Hm?”

  “It’s my son - Dean.”

  The room erupted into chatter as everyone spun to see the source of the new voice. Jeff Cane sat, hands in his lap and a slow smile on his lips.

  Fuck.

  The attorney looked as baffled as everyone else. The judge was smacking the gavel and calling for order, but the chattering grew louder.

  “Mr. Cane, I’ll thank you to wait your turn on the stand. One more word from you and I’ll have you removed from this court, do you understand?”

  “Yes, your honor,” he said breezily.

  My gaze met Nora’s. A million pairs of eyes watched us both. It was outrageous.

  “So, she slept with a man and his son?” said a loud voice from within the crowd.

  “Order.”

  “I never slept with him!” Nora said, eyes fierce as she scanned the crowd to find the source of the terrible words. The uproar continued.

  “Don’t you find it a little disturbing, you bitch? To seduce a father and son? It’s fucking disgusting,” said the voice. I strained my eyes to see the face of Elizabeth’s mother, twisted in anger. She stood and blustered out before the security managed to reach her, and muttered under her breath the whole way out.

  “Order! That’s enough. I’m calling a recess. We’ll continue this in twenty minutes. Mr. Jeff Cane, please approach the bench,” the judge said curtly.

  Jeff sauntered over to her and she began admonishing him quietly. I didn’t care though. My eyes landed on Nora again, who was being released from the witness box.

  She was crying.

  Chapter 13

  One month later

  I’m going to skip ahead here, dear reader, for your sake. The truth is, I don’t have the best memory about exactly what happened during that weeks-long trial. Everything blurred, and for a time it felt like all I had ever done was go to that courtroom each day, and watch people fight to peel away deeper and deeper layers on a case so convoluted that even the media began to lose interest.

  Did we win, you ask?

  Well, yes.

  My father was found guilty of the murder of his wife Elizabeth and sentenced to life in prison, where he would also be awaiting trial for a host of other assorted charges that came to light in the process. That moment I do remember. The courtroom held its breath, the word ‘guilty’ was pronounced and the room exhaled again, that breath becoming sounds of relief, of shock, of horror. But Nora said nothing. Her face showed no expression. Like me, she was waiting for some big event, something loud and final to signal the end of this ordeal we had been forced through. But it was nothing. Just one word, ‘guilty’, and then the rest of life, which felt disappointingly like life had felt just a moment before.

  Over the course of that trial, it came to light that Elizabeth had caught wind of some new developments my father had invested in with laundered money, and had started to ask some inconvenient questions. It turned out that she had known far more than any of us, and had been trying to extricate herself from his grip for years. Elizabeth took some of what she knew to the grave, but one thing was clear: something happened to her to make her hack his laptop and retrieve the damning photos. My father killed her late that same night, stabbing her several times and then getting the same sketchy land developers that owed him to claim he had been at one of their gentlemen’s clubs the night of.

  But first-degree murder really had been the least of my father’s problems. Once the ugly knot was tugged, more threads came loose and now even the Feds were investigating him. Money laundering. Conspiracy, multiple counts of fraud, racketeering, identity theft, attempting to kill a state witness, drug trafficking… To be honest, though, I had stopped paying attention to all of that once I knew that Nora was safe. I suppose I was the same as her: blank. It had been so stressful that it took a moment to even remember what life had felt like before it was so filled with stress.

  “Honey, I just got off the phone with that guy who was after the stuff. Sorry to say he’s flaked.�
��

  My mother came into the kitchen, her overalls covered in white paint. Nora looked up from her coffee and groaned.

  “So, he doesn’t want any of it?” she said and rubbed her face. “What a waste of time.”

  She looked tired.

  “Nah. Says he’s real sorry. Don’t worry honey, you’ll sell it all soon,” my mother added.

  “I’m beginning to think I should just drive it directly to the dump myself.”

  I went to put my arms around her and tried to squeeze in a hug as she took another sip of coffee.

  “There’s no rush, Nora. We can store it all at your place for a few months if need be, someone will want it.”

  “Ugh,” she said and kicked her legs against the table. “The only thing worse than buying sex toys is buying second hand sex toys. It’s not surprising there aren’t any buyers.”

  “Good Lord, child, don’t say it like that. It’s just furniture, for heaven’s sake,” my mother said and took her empty mug from her. “Now are you helping me finish that last wall?” she added, gesturing to the room at the back.

  After weeks and weeks in motels, of anonymous rooms and temporary spaces, it was time to give Nora a real home. A place that she had never been in before. The new flat was smaller, but in a way, it felt more spacious than my old house. It was early to be moving in together, but then again, Nora and I were following our own timeline. Nerves and stress were to expected, so I didn’t mind her pessimism about being able to sell off her house and get rid of the elaborate dungeon she had fitted into the basement. I had never been in there and would never. I had a superstition that once we flogged it, if you’ll pardon the pun, she’d feel better about this next step of our relationship and relax a little. The asshole was behind bars, the news had very nearly forgotten her, and we’d get a buyer for that specialty steel human-cage one way or another. The only thing left to do was paint the walls.

  Nora stared at the floor. Her hair was back to dark brown again. She didn’t get up and follow my mother, though.

  “I… I can’t keep this in any longer,” she said at last. “I have to tell you both something.”

  My mother sat back down on the kitchen stool and eyed her carefully, her paint-stained hands wrapped in her lap.

  “Anything, sweetie. Tell us what’s bothering you.”

  Nora struggled to make eye contact.

  “Don’t make a big deal about this OK? Either of you.”

  It was my turn to take a seat.

  “I’m… I did a test yesterday. Two tests. I’ve been late for more than a month. Looks like I’m pregnant.”

  It was a good thing I was sitting because the air suddenly left the room and I wondered if I had heard right. But instantly my mother’s hands flew to her mouth and she gasped with joy.

  “Pregnant! Nora that’s wonderful news!” she cried and went to hug her. Nora buried her face in those overalls, hugged her closely and then lifted her eyes to gaze at me over her shoulder. I couldn’t stop the tears that fell from my own eyes. When my mother stepped back I went to Nora, took her in my arms and held her, unable to speak. She held me quietly.

  “It’s perfect,” I said at last, pressing whispering lips to the top of her head. “I’m so happy. I can’t… I’m so happy, Nora,” I said, in awe that somewhere inside of her she held…

  I pulled back to look at her.

  “Are you OK though?”

  My mother stood concerned off to the side. It was obvious: Nora had been stressed to death, sleep deprived, overtired from trying to find a new job, from moving house…

  She nodded and moved to smear away a few tears.

  “I feel like such a big idiot, crying like this! It’s supposed to be such a happy thing, and yet…”

  “Honey, it’s such big news. I’m so glad for you both,” my mother said. She got to work brewing another pot of coffee while I stroked the wetness from Nora’s face and tried to stop myself smiling like a big idiot.

  “It’s such a big surprise. It’s the last thing I expected!”

  I reached down and placed a hand on her soft stomach, still blown away by the very idea. Unable to control myself, I reached down, flung my arms round her and picked her up so I could spin her round the kitchen.

  “You’re crazy!” she squealed but soon we were all laughing. I didn’t put her down, but held her there and showered her with big, goofy kisses all along her neck, on her shoulders and down her arms. She flailed a little but soon couldn’t resist laughing loudly either. Even tired, even stressed, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

  “Mom, for god’s sake, stop with the coffee, I think we need something fit for a real celebration,” I said and raced off to the other room. I rummaged through the glass bar cabinets till I found a non-alcoholic sparkling grape juice and came back with three crystal glasses. I popped the cork and poured the fizzing liquid into the glasses as my mother and Nora chatted sweetly together. Slowly, the look of apprehension was lifting from her face and she seemed to be happy. I gave them each a glass and then held my own high in the air, puffed my chest out and stared Nora straight in the eye.

  “Here’s to all the wonderful things in life that you deserve, my love.” At these words her lower lip trembled, she put her glass down and began to cry again. But this time the tears were different. Nora had been struggling with her demons for months now. But we deserved to be happy now. She deserved to be happy.

  We three spent that evening finishing up the painting in our newly decorated living room, then talking idly about preparations for the baby. I wanted no expense spared. The little one would have the best of everything, from the very beginning.

  Well past midnight, my mother finally turned in for the night. After she’d pulled out of her testimony, we had asked her to stay with us, just until the drama from the case calmed down, but we all enjoyed it so much it didn’t seem like a rush for her to move out again. And with Jeff in jail there was no point in hiding out in the mountains anymore either.

  I watched the light in her room go off upstairs and then, exhausted and covered in paint, I grabbed Nora’s hand and silently guided her upstairs and to our room. I watched her wordlessly as she undressed and shook her hair out, then came over to me and pressed herself against me. No matter how stressed she was, no matter how crazy the trial got, hell, even when we were out on the open road fighting off hitmen sent to kill us, this was always something that was untouchable. No matter how much we fucked, there was always more to do. No matter how much I kissed those lips of hers, no matter how much of her taut, smooth flesh I caressed with both hands, no matter how greedy she kissed and held me back, there was always more, more kisses to get through, some part of her beautiful body I was sure I had left unexplored, some delicious part inside of her I hadn’t adored sufficiently. All she had to do was give me that look. To stand close, to go quiet for a moment and then I knew, and we slipped easily into that game we knew best, that game without any words…

  I sunk soft lips into hers and kissed her, tasting the tang of apple juice still on her warm little tongue. I let my hands slide down the side of her body, down the slow curve of her hips and then to grab her fingertips so I could pull her towards the bed. I held her gaze tightly as I peeled off my own shirt, tossed it aside and then took my time unzipping, tilting my head and giving her a smile that let her know exactly what I had in mind for her.

  “You’re going to make a smoking hot mom, you know that?”

  She giggled and threw a pillow at me.

  “Oh yeah? What if I get big and round and hormonal?”

  “Baby, if you think there’s a thing in this world that can keep me away, I haven’t seen it yet,” I said and let my trousers fall to the floor before stepping under the covers with her.

  Lately, these sweet, soft, bed sessions were our new pace. This was the same woman I had grabbed by the hair and fucked savagely while she was still covered in another man’s blood. The same woman who had told me “harder daddy�
�, without a shred of self-consciousness. The woman who was going to be my wife and soon, the mother of our child. And now, we were playing another game altogether, one that was the strangest for both of us: domesticity.

  Lately, we would curl up in bed to a routine, and take off our clothes, and make sweet, considerate love in the semi-dark, then fall asleep still holding one another. No fireworks, you might say, but try to understand that for a couple like us, the ordinary life was as exotic as it got. I lost myself in her lips, and kissed her breathlessly, letting my hands go where they would. Every part of her body was a paradise, so I didn’t care whether my fingers found the plump swell of her butt, the yielding flesh just under her bellybutton, that delicious little furrow marking her spine or the great expanses of white, silky flesh of each of her firm thighs as they led up to that warm little cleft …where I inevitably found myself.

  “You know, I didn’t expect this,” I said, and pressed my hardness against her.

  “Expect what?” she giggled and ground her hips to me in response.

  “I don’t know. How hot the whole idea is. We’re going to have a fucking baby, Nora.” She was giggling harder now, her hair falling over her face as I kissed and caressed her.

  “I know right? So crazy…”

  “Not crazy. Amazing. I like it. I like that it’s me that put it in there,” I growled and she gave me a playful slap on my bicep.

  “Are you going all caveman on me now, huh?” she said as I traced a tongue over the warm skin between her breasts.

  “Hmm… maybe. You’re beautiful, you know that? I’m going to love that baby as much as I love you. And I--”

  “Ok, ok, jeez… I get it.”

  The moment had gone anyway. I let my hand trace lines over her body for a while but she seemed elsewhere.

  “I’m sorry I just… it’s not all sunshine and roses, Dean.”

  I sat up on my elbow.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know, I just… this is all going so fast. Again. God, it was just yesterday I was Mistress Morgan swanning around in leather and being a bitch for a living and now… now I’m a mother? A married mother? It’s just blowing my mind.”