‘It’s OK, Kira. Take a minute, sweetheart.’
I slowly look up, and his eyes meet mine, and that guilt crashes into me again. ‘I’m so sorry, Joey.’
‘Hey.’ He reaches out and takes my hand and I curl my fingers tightly around his. ‘We can get through this, angel.’
Can we? I’m not so sure. But I kind of need his optimism. ‘I had to tell him. He knew when I was lying, he could read me so well, and I… I had to tell him, how Simon was treating me. And that’s when he begged me to leave him once and for all, to go away with him and start a new life, away from everything that was hurting me. Everything that was keeping us apart.’ I look down at Joey’s fingers stroking my knuckles, and it’s only when I see a tear splash onto the back of his hand that I realise I’m crying. ‘But I kept telling him I couldn’t leave. And he wouldn’t stop begging me to listen to him, to get out before Simon really hurt me. But I didn’t, did I? I didn’t listen.’ I raise my gaze to meet Joey’s. ‘If I had, it would never have happened. If I’d gone with my heart, and listened to Jon; if I’d been strong enough to face up to our families and just tell them… If I’d gone with the man I’d loved instead of trying to keep everyone else happy, things would have been so different, Joey. Simon would never have hurt me like he did. My life wouldn’t have been so fucked-up. Everything would have been normal. Ordinary. I would have been with the man I loved. We could have been together. But I didn’t listen.’
I pull my hand away from Joey’s and wipe my eyes, throwing my head back again, resting it against the wall.
‘I thought I’d seen the last of him. Jon. After I ran. I mean, I’d left everything behind, hadn’t I? My phone, my identity; my whole fucking life. But he found me. Said he’d been looking for me, he’d been asking around, because he knows people. He has the kind of connections I never wanted to be privy to, because that bad boy, he grew up to be a dark man. But sometimes things happen that…’ I stop talking and drop my head, closing my eyes. Sometimes things happen, but I’m straying into a part of this story I can’t share. I can’t do it, I can’t even think about it. I have to force my mind to shut down, and that’s so fucking hard… ‘He found me. He found the agency and he called me. And the second I heard his voice…’ I drag my hands through my hair again, letting out a long, frustrated sigh because talking about this; every word I say just makes me sound even weaker than I thought I was. ‘Jesus, Joey, I know I should have just hung up on him. It was over, that life. And I should have left it there. But I’d loved him. So much. And hearing his voice…’
‘He became a client?’
I nod, but again I can’t look at him. I’m ashamed, of what I did. Of how I let it take over. I’m ashamed of how I still feel now. Jon Ryan. A ghost I can do without. A man I need to forget.
‘I wanted to see him, I… I needed to see him. But I knew that letting him get too close, that was dangerous. I knew that could never happen, not now. What we’d wanted before, what we could have had, that was all gone. Everything had changed. I was living a new life, and there was no place for him there, but, he’d looked for me. And he’d found me. And I was weak, Joey. I’m not strong at all, no matter how much I think I am.’
‘You are strong, Kira…’
‘No.’ I shake my head. ‘No, I’m not. A strong woman would have turned him away, hung up the second she heard his voice. But I invited him back into my life.’
‘Did he… did he pay you? For sex? I mean…’
‘He was a client, Joey, so yes. He paid me. It was the only way I would let him back in. Because I thought keeping him at arm’s length would be safe. I wanted – I needed to be with him, but I also needed distance. So I laid down rules. We fucked, but we never talked. Not about the past, not about anything. I didn’t want to know what had happened after I’d gone, and I didn’t want to know what he was doing now. So we fucked. And that’s all we did. I treat him like any other client. Or I tried to.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Kira… Why didn’t you just tell me, babe?’
‘I couldn’t. Because I’d shut him down, Joey. Everything he’d ever been to me, I’d just tried to forget it and telling you – telling anyone, that was only going to bring it all back to life.’
‘How long after you left did he find you?’
‘A few months.’
‘And did he…? Did he know, what Simon had done to you?’
‘He had no idea. I mean, he was Simon’s best friend but, Simon was never going to admit to what he’d done to me, was he? Not even to his closest friend. So he had no idea why I’d suddenly just turned my back on everything, and ran.’
‘But you said he knew… you said he knew that Simon…’
‘That Simon hit me? That he treat me like crap? Yeah, he knew that. And he did ask if that was why I’d left him, but, he wasn’t that stupid. He knew that if that had been the case I would have come to him. But I didn’t. I just ran. That’s why he knew something wasn’t right. That’s why he came looking for me. And I had to tell him the truth. I mean… he was still Simon’s friend, at that point. And the thought of Simon telling him crap, making him believe I was to blame, in some way, for just upping and leaving like that… I hadn’t wanted to leave Jon. I hadn’t wanted to do that. But I’d had to. Simon had given me no choice. But Jon he – he found me, and he was confused and hurt and… and he deserved to know why I’d just turned my back on him like that.’
‘And what did he do? After you told him, I mean.’
‘He was angry. He was so fucking angry, Joey, it was all I could do to stop him from…’ I bow my head and focus on my fingers as they pull at a stray strand on my leather wristband. ‘He wanted to kill him.’
‘With good reason.’
‘He still wants to kill him now… After I told him, he moved away, apparently. I didn’t know that, until now, because like I said we never talked when he came to see me. The only time we ever really talked was that first meeting. When I told him what Simon had done; why I’d left. But he moved away, from the village. He cut all ties with Simon, his family… he just couldn’t tell them why, and that’s because I’d asked him not to say anything to anybody. And he kept his word. But I had no idea, at the time, that he’d cut all ties, with everything and everyone we’d grown up around. But that was his choice, Joey.’ I look up, and Joey’s eyes are fixed on me. I don’t think his gaze has shifted. ‘I never asked him to do that.’ My gaze drops again as a harsh realisation hits me. ‘But I didn’t really give him much choice, either. Did I?’
‘Kira…’
‘He gave up so much for me. And I didn’t even know that, at the time. But just seeing him again, it made me realise… I needed him. He needed me. And neither of us were strong enough to ignore those feelings.’
‘How long did it go on for, Kira? How long did you keep on seeing him?’
‘Too long. Years.’ I let out another frustrated sigh that turns into a more wretched cry as the guilt and the pain engulfs me all over again. ‘Even after he got married…’ I can’t stop the cold, humourless laugh from escaping. ‘Yeah. There’s me telling you I didn’t want to know anything about him, that we never talked about anything personal, but he turned up one afternoon, after a fortnight of missed visits and no contact and that was unusual. I knew something was wrong, so, when he finally did turn up… He was wearing a wedding ring, Joey. What else was I supposed to do, huh?’
Joey looks at me, and it’s like the walls are suddenly closing in on me. I’m beginning to feel claustrophobic. ‘That was one wedding ring you couldn’t ignore, huh?’
I nod and breathe in deep as another wave of pain and guilt overwhelms me. ‘I didn’t want him to tell me, but I didn’t stop him when he did. He said he’d married her because I was making it quite obvious I was never coming back to him and he… he needed something, someone to focus on other than me. He made me feel guilty, about what we were doing, and I… He made me feel guilty. Do you see how messed-up it was, Joey? How wrong and fucked-up
my world really was?’
He stays silent, and I know that’s because he has no idea what to say to that.
‘So he got married. He tried to pretend we weren’t happening, when we were never really going to end. Neither of us was strong enough to walk away, even though all we had left now was one expensive afternoon a week when we’d fuck like our lives depended on it and both of us tried to pretend we meant nothing to each other anymore. It was so fucking twisted… but he still came to me, and I still let him. And I’m not proud, Joey, I’m not. But what I did – married men came to me all the time. And I ignored it. That was my job, to ignore the truth and give them what they wanted. But it was so much harder with him. Pretending…’
‘Jesus, Kira…’
‘So I had to end it.’
He looks at me, and I know I’m still crying, but I’m too tired to fight it now.
‘I had to. So I blocked his calls. Told the agency not to put him back in touch. I had to do that, even though this huge part of me didn’t want to.’
‘When did you end it, Kira?’
I look at him again, and I think he already knows the answer. ‘Just weeks before Neal walked into my life.’
Joey bows his head, and it’s his turn to push his hands through his hair; his turn to sigh heavily, and I can tell he’s part angry, part frustrated with me.
‘You’re so fucking stupid sometimes, Kira.’
I can’t argue with that.
‘He obviously didn’t get the message. Did he?’
I shake my head. And the look he gives me… he knows. He isn’t the stupid one.
‘You’ve already seen him, haven’t you?’
I don’t even have to give him an answer. Like I said, he knows.
‘When?’
‘Last night. He was in the club.’
‘How did he…?’
‘I don’t know. But he was there, and he’ll be there again, and I don’t know why he…’ I sigh quietly, and the realisation of what might lie ahead almost floors me. It’s just too much to take in, and I already feel battered and bruised and it’s only going to get worse. Because I‘m not sure I can stop this. ‘Yes, I do know why he came to you. He’s pushing me; trying to make me see he isn’t going to give up.’
‘And when you saw him…?’
I pull myself to my feet and walk over to the mirror, staring at my reflection. My eyes are bloodshot, my cheeks stained with tears. But at least Joey has make-up here. I can do a quick-fix before I go back downstairs. ‘Have you got a lighter concealer anywhere?’
‘How did you feel, Kira? When you saw him?’
I continue to stare at my reflection, running my fingers lightly over my eyebrows, and I can feel it returning, that hard, cold exterior that once surrounded me. It’s coming back, because I need that protection now. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know what I felt.’
‘And what about Neal? Does he know about any of this?’
I keep staring in the mirror because I’m scared to turn around, scared to step back into the mess that is once more my reality. ‘No. He doesn’t.’
‘Are you going to tell him? Because I think you should. I think you should tell him everything. Lies don’t carry well, Kira.’
I slowly turn to face him, and he’s right. Lies like this will only serve to hurt people; people who don’t deserve to be hurt.
‘He will leave here, Joey. Jon, he’ll leave. He will get the message. Eventually.’
‘You sure about that? And if he does go home…? Kira, does Simon…?’
‘I told you, he doesn’t know anything. Jon hasn’t spoken to him since the day he found out what he’d done to me.’
‘And what about his wife?’
‘They’re divorced.’
‘So he’s free to come back for you now, huh?’
I turn around and start looking for a make-up sponge. ‘I should get back downstairs. I’m supposed to be on stage in a little while.’
‘Kira… You know this is serious, don’t you? I mean, I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but I get the gist. This man, you and him, you obviously shared something, no matter how messed-up it was… Jesus! You really should have talked to me.’
‘Maybe I should have. But I didn’t. And it’s done now. I handled it badly, and he’s back. But he will leave, Joey, I promise you that. He will leave. I’ll end it once and for all, and he’ll go, and I can get on with living my life.’
‘With Neal?’
Why did he even phrase that as a question? ‘Yes. With Neal.’
Neal Cannon.
The man who saved me.
The man who might need to save me all over again.
Twenty-Two
Neal
I stand at the back of the club and watch her, up there on the stage in her dark wig and eye mask, enough of a disguise to some extent, but it’ll always be her tattoo that gives her away, to those who are aware of it. And if people have looked at the photographs on the walls and seen the ones of Kira they’d know, that it was her up there, about to take it all off and show everyone in here just what she’s got that drives me fucking insane, every minute of every day.
I dig a hand in my pocket and swallow down the double shot of whiskey Louie’s just poured for me, but my eyes don’t leave that stage. I need to watch her, all the time, because I need to know who he is; why he’s here, that man she was kissing last night. She didn’t seem to think it important enough to share with me, but she’s wrong. Another man touches her, and I get angry. I get fucking angry. Another man kisses her, and I want to rip his fucking heart out.
‘Phone call for you, Neal.’
I look at Alan, just briefly, before I turn my attention back to the stage. She’s already slid the black dress she was barely wearing down over her beautiful legs and now she’s left in nothing but killer heels and the tiniest black bra and panties as she writhes against the steel pole.
‘Neal. Your lawyer’s on the phone, in your office.’
‘Yeah, Alan, I heard. Can you tell him to call back tomorrow?’
‘He said he really needs to speak to you now. Said it was urgent.’
‘Jesus Christ…’
I swallow down the last of the whiskey and slam the glass down on the counter behind me, taking one last look at Kira as she slowly unclips her bra and pulls it away, revealing those freaking amazing tits. Tits I want to suck on, right now, I don’t want to be talking to my lawyer. I want to suck on her nipples and play with her pussy and then I want her to tell me who that fucking guy is before I find him and break his fucking neck. That’s what I want.
Nothing else is important.
Nothing…
Kira
I never make a habit of looking out into the crowd when I do this. I don’t like to meet anyone’s gaze, unless I know Neal’s going to be there. And I’ve just seen him head back to the office, so I keep my head up and my eyes on nothing in particular. I just listen to the music and let my body move in time to the beat as I work the pole.
But sometimes it happens, and I make the mistake of looking out into the crowd, and my heart almost skids to a halt when I see him, leaning back against the wall, his light-brown hair all messed-up, that cocky look on his ruggedly handsome face as he stares back at me. And the corner of his mouth twists up into a slight smirk, and my heart starts to race, going from almost still to breathtakingly fast and I hate every feeling he’s stirred up inside of me. I hate that he’s making me wet because, as I slide a hand down to touch myself, I can feel it, how wet I am.
It’s like something’s overtaken me, possessed me, and maybe it’s because I’m not myself, I’m acting. Up here I’m just another one of my many alter-egos as I dance and strip and excite those who want to be excited. I’m not me. So I feel no guilt as I lean back against the pole and unclip the sides of my tiny black knickers, pulling them away to leave me naked, bar the heels. And the mask. I’m naked, and he’s staring at me, and I like it. Jesus Christ, I fucking like it!
/>
I close my eyes and arch my back, burying my fingers in my hair as I sway my hips; as I slide slowly down the pole to my haunches, and that’s when I open my eyes. As I spread my legs wide and touch myself I open my eyes, and they meet his. But his gaze drops; he’s watching me touch myself. He’s watching as I bring myself off, as my fingers slip and slide around my soaking wet pussy, and he caused that. He did this. Him, and all those messed-up memories he’s making me remember.
But as I feel my all-too-public climax start to make its presence felt, he lifts his gaze, and his eyes are back on mine as my body jerks and jolts with the weight of the orgasm he’s brought me to without even touching me. And then the guilt hits, and I want him to go, to stop this from happening. I want him to leave and never contact me again, but at the same time I want him to stay and confuse me and I hate myself all over again, for even thinking that.
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