I smile at it, even though I find it strange. He’s never left me a note before; certainly not one as cryptic as this.
The kitchen floor is cold under foot as I set about brewing some coffee. I reach for two mugs, one for me and one for Rach, and make us a large helping of our morning’s addiction before making my way to her room. I tap gently on her door.
Silence.
I tap again, still nothing. “Rach, it’s just me, can I come in? I’ve made you a coffee.”
I wait a moment; I can hear movement from inside so I know that she’s there. I push the door handle down with my elbow and it swings wide open.
“What are you doing, Mia?” Rachael deftly pulls the covers up over her naked body. Chris is lying on his side next to her, looking pleased. The covers barely conceal the fact that he is naked under them.
I feel my cheeks go crimson. “Sorry, I erm, I…”
“Morning, Mia.” He smiles at me.
She looks at him impatiently and then back to me with a scowl. “You erm, what?”
I hop from foot to foot. I feel far too underdressed in just my thigh-high T-shirt to be around this creep. I can see him looking me up and down casually. Urghhh! This is the second time that he’s caught me in next to nothing. I grimace.
“I was just bringing you a coffee. I didn’t know you had company.” I nod to Chris. My hands are beginning to ache from holding the oversized mugs. I just want to go, but I’m not sure whether to put down her cup or take it with me.
“Why wouldn’t I have company?” She looks me dead in the eye. Chris slides his underwear on under the covers and jumps out of bed. His body is lean and toned; I notice a small tattoo on his upper arm as he comes towards me, but can’t make out what it is.
“I’m just going to wash up, ladies. I’ll leave you to it.” He smiles widely at me, his shoulder brushing mine as he passes. I try not to look anywhere but at his face, but his near nakedness is rather obvious.
“Okay, babe.” Rach smiles after him and then turns back to me with yet another scowl. “Okay. So? Thanks for the coffee. You can leave now.” She rolls her eyes at me, her arms crossing over her chest.
“What the hell is your problem, Rachael? I haven’t done anything wrong and yet you have ignored me for days. I was only looking out for you. If you don’t want my advice that’s fine, but don’t come crying to me when it all goes horribly wrong!” I storm over to the bed and slam the mug down, coffee splashing over its sides, and I turn to leave.
“Like I said, Mia, what we have is…”
I swing back round to face her. “I’m not bothered about what you said. You said a lot of things on Saturday—most of them pretty hurtful to me. Even so, I still just want to forget about it and move on. I don’t want to fall out with you over…over, well whatever it is that I’m supposed to have done. So just get a grip and stop acting like such a spoilt bitch all of a sudden!”
She goes to say something and stops herself, looking down at the covers.
“You need to grow up, Rachael. I do want you to be happy, of course I do, and I didn’t mean to offend you. I certainly didn’t want to hurt you, so I’m sorry that I did,” I add in, my tone more gentle.
She looks up at me, her eyes glassy from the tears building up, and I take in her appearance; the black circles under her eyes, the paleness to her skin.
“But, you have to accept responsibility for your part of this mess. I’ve been here enough times with you, with guys like him, to know how this is going to end. But bloody hell, honey, if he makes you happy right now, then go for it.”
I try to keep my voice soft, but can’t help my heat-of-the-moment speech rising loudly. I can hear Chris moving around the apartment and wonder if he’s listening to our conversation.
“Do you know what I think, Rach? I think that…” I continue, on a roll now my momentum is going.
“Okay, okay. I get it.” She cuts me off. “I’m sorry.” She looks up. “I’m sorry for being such a bitch. I overreacted, I know I did, but you just annoyed me so much. You were saying all the things that I was thinking and I was embarrassed, and oh god, what am I doing, Mia? What am I going to say to him?” She puts her head in her hands and sobs.
I sit on the edge of the bed, putting my mug down next to hers—thankfully, as my fingers are about ready to fall off.
“Carry on as you are if he’s making you happy, just don’t get too attached to him. You know what guys like him are like. I don’t understand why you even like him that much.” I pause, waiting for her to bite my head off again, knowing that I’ve overstepped.
Rachel looks back up at me with a small smile, apparently ignoring my comment. “But I do really like him, Mia.”
“Well, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe he’s not like all those other idiot’s. Do you really think he’s ‘the one’?” I add.
“No. I was just saying that to make you mad, but I do really like him.” She grins at me. “I can’t explain it.” She shakes her head and looks away. “He’s just there, in my thoughts, no matter what I do.” She taps the side of her head and looks back at me. “Do you know what I mean?”
I’m about to say something else, to tell her that I know exactly what she means, but Chris comes back into the room; he’s carrying his own mug of coffee. I frown, noticing that it’s Oliver’s mug, the one with the words ‘I have a particular set of skills’ written across it from when we had gone to see Taken with Liam Neeson in it. It’s his favourite mug and I hate that this creep is using it.
“Hope you don’t mind, I helped myself.” He smiles, gesturing to the coffee, and sits on the edge of the bed next to Rachael, unconcerned by his near nakedness, almost as if he knows how much he’s irritating me.
“You okay, babe?” He’s asking Rachael but smiling broadly at me, looking me over.
She looks at me with a shy smile and I stand to leave, trying to keep myself covered up as much as possible. The decision is hers to make. She doesn’t need me watching it play out, and I don’t want to watch it.
“I’m going to get ready for work.” I pick my coffee cup back up and shut the door behind me.
*
I’m busy with my class in the afternoon when Mary-Lou comes and interrupts me, telling me that Oliver is on the phone for me at the front office.
“Right class, if you can carry on with the drawing that you’re doing, I won’t be too long.” They stare at me wide–eyed, smiling. It’s first years, and I know that they still have their ‘high school heads’ on; therefore the class is going to go into full-scale riot mode the moment I leave the room.
I sigh. “Would you mind waiting here for me?” I ask Mary-Lou.
She grins, knowing why I want her to stay. “Sure thing, but be quick.”
I check my mobile on the way to the office but there are no missed calls and I wonder why he’s called the main office instead of my mobile direct.
The phone is in the receiver when I get to the office, line two blinking rapidly to show that someone’s on hold.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Mia.” His voice sounds off, different somehow and I know instantly that something’s wrong.
“Hey, baby. You okay?”
He’s hesitant. “Yeah, I erm, my mobile. I dropped it and it’s broken. I’m going to have to go get a new one at some point.”
“You’ve broken your phone?” I repeat, slower than necessary, as I give him a chance to tell me what’s really going on.
“Erm, yeah. I’m phoning from the work landline.”
“Oh, Okay then.” Something really isn’t right. “So, are you okay?” I repeat my earlier question.
There’s silence for a moment before he responds. “Yeah…yeah, everything’s fine. Listen, erm, Bill has asked me to go to London to sort out some mess with the flowers, so I’m going to be gone for a few days. Hopefully I’ll be back by the end of the week.” His voice trails off on the last words and I hear mumbling behind him before he continues. “Maybe a bit longer.”
; “You’re going to London? I don’t understand, Ollie. Why can’t they sort it out over the phone? When’s Bill coming back?” We haven’t ever had time apart for more than a day or two at most.
“I don’t know, Mia. I’m just doing as I’m told.” He sounds . . . sad?
I glare at the receiver like all this is its fault. “Have I missed something, Ollie? Are we okay? I thought we were okay after, well, after last week. After last night. Did I get it wrong though? Are you trying to tell me you want time apart or something?” I’m close to tears now, my words coming out in a tumble, the bubble in the back of my throat rippling and ready to burst. “If you do—want time apart—then please tell me, baby. Don’t do this to me. To us. We can sort this out, whatever it is.”
“No, God no, Mia. I love you. I love you so very much. We’re fine. We’re going to be fine. Everything is…fine.”
FINE.
“Right then, well who’s going to run the project while you’re away? When are you going? Where will you be staying?”
“I’m going straight away, Mia.” A pause. “I have to. I erm…I need to get this problem sorted out. I’ll find a hotel when I get there. One of the other guys is going to keep this place going. They’ve got plans to follow, they know what they’re doing. I don’t know where Bill is. I’ve not heard from him for a few days, but I’m sure he’ll be back any day now.” His voice is pensive and sad, and I can’t help but think that I’m missing something. But what?
“You’re going straight away? Will I see you before you go?” I say through gritted teeth.
“No. I’m setting off today—now actually.”
“Now? Right then.” I am definitely going to cry. This doesn’t feel right. This doesn’t feel right at all. “So, let me get this right, Ollie. You’re leaving, now, for an unspecified amount of time, and you can’t even come see me to say goodbye properly. You have no mobile to contact me on, and can’t tell me where you will be staying? But this isn’t about us? Does that just about cover it?” I feel myself pout like a child.
“Yeah.” He’s quieter now. “So, I’ll see you soon, Mia.”
“Soon?” I feel sick, and my hands are shaking. This feels wrong—so, so wrong.
“Yeah. Of course yeah, baby, yeah. Real soon. Maybe the end of the week.” He sounds hopeful before he adds on, “Maybe next week.”
“You’ll phone me though?”
“My phone’s broken, Mia.”
“But, there are landlines, Oliver.” I stare at the phone in exasperation. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, course there are. I’ll try and call you later in the week, then.”
“Or get your phone fixed whilst you’re there?” I ask.
“Yeah…or that.”
“Right then.” I don’t believe anything that he’s saying. But what can I do? What can I say to make him stay? To get him to tell me the truth? I started all this—this is entirely my fault.
“Right then.”
There’s silence on the end of the line. It feels like there’s an infinite void between us, not a few miles. There’s something else going on here, but if he isn’t willing to tell me then what more can I do? He obviously needs the space.
“I could come over to the Island and see you before you go…”
“NO!” he snaps, his words cutting me off abruptly. “No, Mia. I don’t want you coming over here.”
I feel my chin tremble. “Why?” My voice is so quiet, I wonder if he will even hear me, but he does.
“It’s just a few days, Mia. Don’t make such a big deal out of this. It’s just a work thing, okay?”
I nod, and then remember that he can’t see me. “Yeah, okay then, Ollie. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Silence again, and then: “I love you, Mia. Please remember that. No matter what happens. I love you so, so much, and always will.”
The phone clicks off before I can say anything more to him and I sob loudly. Why did that seem like a forever goodbye? I have an urge to drive over to the Island right now, regardless of what he says, and demand an answer from him—to beg him not to go—but my mobile beeps as I replace the receiver. I pull it out of my pocket and see a message from Mary-Lou.
‘SOS. Kids going wild, help.’
If Oliver needs space, then I need to give it to him. I continue to stare numbly at the phone. Or should I? Maybe what he needs right now from me is to fight for us, to go and tell him that I love him, that I don’t want him to go. I fiddle with my mobile, contemplating what to do, when it beeps in my hand again.
‘There’s a reason that I’m not a teacher, Mia. The reason being, that I really don’t like children.’
No. Best to give him some space if that’s what he wants. I’ll be here when he gets back. Nothing is going to change on my end. I will always love him and will always be here for him, regardless of how I have been behaving recently.
I walk back to my classroom slowly, still unsure of my decision.
Fourteen
Mr Breckt
Oliver hangs up the phone, his shoulders sagging in defeat. He turns to me, his head hanging low on his chest. I can’t help the grin that crosses my face. His heart is beating wildly, pumping his filthy blood around him. I should drain him—just put him out of his misery. She will not refuse me anymore, not now he’s out of the way.
He looks up, his eyes burning deep cavernous holes into me; his jaw clenches tight, while his teeth grind together.
“It’s done.” He says.
“So I heard.” I swap my grin for a self-satisfied look.
“So, where will I be staying?” he asks calmly, but I can hear the rage burning beneath the surface, the restraint it’s taking him to hold back.
“Aaah, yes, our arrangement.” I say clasp my hands together.
It’s amusing really, that he thinks he stands even the remotest chance of keeping her now. That he truly believes I will keep my word, that she would even be able to resist me now that he is out of the way. My eyes glint with dark humour. He has already lost this battle.
“Where will you be staying?” I mock. I fold my arms across my chest, my muscles straining against the seams of my suit jacket. “Hmm, have we got a spare room anywhere, Ava?” I turn to look at her—my favourite of all my Pawn vampires. She seems the most competent, even though she is the baby of the group. She turns her dark eyes upon us.
“Sir?” she asks with a raise of an eyebrow.
Unimpressed by my game no doubt, but willing to play along to pacify me if it gets me to hurry up and get on with our task. And it will. Once I have, Mia, once she wants me, once I taste her. I swallow, the thought of her in my arms, her blood in my mouth, is simply too much. I lick my lips, lost in my own reverie.
“Sir?” Ava questions again, coming towards us gracefully.
I refocus on the present situation. “Do we have any room for a guest? Mr Walsh will be staying with us for a while.”
“A week,” Oliver pipes in. “Just a week.”
I smile thinly. “Perhaps.” I hear him gulp and my lips twitch in amusement. He’s afraid, and he should be.
“There’s only one room left, Sir,” Ava continues.
“Is it the very best that we have available, Ava?” Emphasis on ‘best’. I glance over at him; his eyes are dark with worry and confusion.
She grins broadly. “Oh yes, Sir. The very best that we have.” Even if she disagrees with what I’m doing, she’ll follow my orders. However, to include some cruelty in there…well, that just ensures that she damn well enjoys the task I set her.
Oliver is looking dubiously at us. He knows what we are now, and rightly doesn’t trust us, but what choice does he have? He’s defeated and now he knows it. Now he knows that he has lost her.
He was always going to lose, though.
Lose her.
Lose everything.
I hate him. I glower.
As if having my Mia wasn’t enough of a re
ason for me to hate him, the stupid fool stumbled upon my prisoners. Fortunately, Cleo found him before he could do anything about it. It’s all worked out perfectly for me though. After he tried to threaten me with the police, I got to threaten him back—and play a game with the poor sap too. Like a spider to a cat, he’s dangling on a thread and being taunted. There is no escape—not from me.
He knows how infatuated I have become with Mia, and he knows she feels at least something similar for me.
I feel a sneer creep up my face. “Well then, Ava. Why don’t you and Cleo show him to his room?” I cannot stand to look at him anymore; his stench makes me feel sick to my stomach.
I turn away and saunter to my chair. I have plans to make.
“Come with me, Mr Walsh.” Face of an angel, voice of a serpent, that’s my girl.
A scuffle breaks out behind me, and Oliver is in front of me once more. Ava is closely behind looking angry, but keeping her cool as usual.
“So, I do this… walk away, and you get one week,” his voice rises. “One week, that’s all you’re getting from me. You can’t go back on your end of the deal. If she chooses me, then you leave us alone. If she chooses you…”
I lean back in my chair and smile. “Which she will.”
He closes his mouth, unwilling to finish the sentence.
“Yes, if she chooses me, what then?” The smile widens on my face.
“If she chooses you, then you get to kill me.” He swallows loudly.
“And I will take great delight in doing so.” I sneer.
“I’ll be dead anyway if she chooses you.” He rumbles.
Ava grips him by the upper arm and pulls him back a step. He furiously tries to shrug her off, but her strength outweighs his by more than his puny body can ever begin to imagine. I smile at him but say nothing. Sometimes silence is the best answer.
My eyes drift from the new floor-to-ceiling window. I’m pleased with how the house is coming along: it’s much more to my liking. I want to see the world around me, not feel boxed in to this decrepit house. I deserve more than this, but this will have to do for now.
Oliver shouts, bringing me back to the present. “She lives, Breckt! No matter who she chooses. That’s what we agreed. ” My mouth turns up in a small smile.
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