Reclaiming Love (Tainted Love Book 2)

by Lily Zante

  Chapter 29

  One time. One time only. Then never again. Ever. If she did this one thing, she would never have to worry about him posting those pictures of her anywhere. She’d never have to worry about them showing up suddenly on her computer at work, or being emailed to her on her phone, in a year, or five, ten or twenty years from now.

  One time. She still hadn’t taken a step forward. One time.

  “Come on, Mel. One last time. Give me a proper ‘goodbye’ ‘cos you know how much I’m going to miss you and that beautiful body of yours.”

  Her mind scrambled to make meaning of his filthy request. She tried to convince herself it would just be sex. No different from most of the other times with him. It had only been sex then too. Two bodies rubbing together. No emotion, no feeling, nothing much in it for her.

  One time.

  One.

  More.

  Time.

  She could do this. Nobody would ever find out what she had done. How she’d lowered herself.

  “One time,” she said, surprising herself with her ability to suddenly find her voice.

  “Really?” The way his eyebrows lifted told her he’d not been expecting this answer.

  “I want all the photos. All of them. Put them on a memory stick now. And I want to see you delete them in front of me. Do you hear me?”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Now.”

  “Now?” He angled his head, looking at her closely with a mixture of surprise and urgency, as though she might change her mind suddenly.

  “The photos first.”

  “Yeah, sure. Okay.” He moved fast. Grabbed his phone. She moved over to watch him closely. “I want to see you delete them.” Her voice didn’t even sound like hers and she was already miles away in her head, in some far off distant place. But she watched him like a hawk. He came over to her and flicked through them, deleting each one before forwarding to the next one.

  Jesus Christ. How many had he taken? There must have been about twenty or more. She’d never realized there were that many.

  “Done,” he said, finally, looking a little shamefaced.

  “Your PC.” She motioned over to this desk, and he started on that next. It had a password and she watched him type it in. Then he fiddled around with the different folders, pointing and clicking his mouse until he had located her images.

  “Show me and then I want to see you delete them,” she ordered.

  He showed her the thumbnails of files she recognized as hers and then he copied them over for her onto a memory stick. Then he hit the delete button on his computer.

  “Here you go.” He removed the memory stick from the computer and handed it to her. “Why do you want them anyway? I thought you hated those pictures.”

  “They’re mine.” She wasn’t sure, but something told her it made sense for her to have them. She took the USB and put it away safely into her bag, finding herself watching everything going on around her as if she had stepped outside her body. Time had slowed down. Opening her bag, dropping the USB stick inside it, zipping it shut again, seemed to take forever and all the while that beating drum she’d been hearing was the sound of her own frightened heart.

  “You’ve got what you wanted.” His voice was hoarse.

  She heard him and watched him walk over to lock the door, but felt rooted to the spot, unable to move. He sauntered back to her, raising his arms and tearing off his T-shirt.

  Now.

  She was filled with dread; acutely aware of her tongue sticking to the root of her mouth, of her shallow breaths that made her feel dizzy.

  Shirtless, he approached her. “Taking this off would be a start.” He moved the strap of her handbag off her shoulder and her body started to shake at his touch.

  Counting.

  She would count. It would give her something to focus on. He started to slip off her sweatshirt, but she moved away and, without saying a word, began to do it herself.

  It felt strange. Preparing for sex. Like a clinical examination. She slipped off her sneakers next, then her jeans, until all she had on was her T-shirt and underwear. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him. When he came up behind her and she felt his hardness against her bottom, she knew he was completely naked. Every fiber in her body tensed.

  His fingers slipped through her hair then slid along her arms like a thousand spiders crawling over her skin, until they reached the bottom hem of her T-shirt. “Everything comes off.” He tugged the flimsy cotton up and over her head, and released a low moan as he stared at her body.

  She watched, as if from another place in the room, somewhere over by the door, or so it felt. She wasn’t here, the person who let him do this to her.

  When he had stripped her bare, he laid her down against the bed. When he tried to kiss her, she turned her head away, twice. “No kissing.” Her voice was dead, barely a whisper he either didn’t hear or ignored as he draped his body over hers.

  She reached down to check he had protection, and shuddered knowing he was bigger and harder than she ever remembered from before. She knew just how badly he had missed this. Not her. Just this. She started to count.

  Moving her face away again, she refused to let his kiss reach her. Stiff fingers grabbed her mouth. “We had a deal,” he hissed, before reaching down, and plundering her mouth with his.

  Eighteen, nineteen, twenty…

  Salt tears mixed with saliva and then rolled down the sides of her face as he moved down hungrily to her breasts.

  Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty…

  Her arms lay splayed out on the bed, and if she stared at the dirty mark on the ceiling she could temporarily fixate on that instead of this. He was like a rutting pig, and she was dry, and in pain. She clenched her teeth.

  Fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-six…

  Ninety-one, ninety-two, ninety-three…

  She didn’t even realize when it was over, when he’d pulled out, and clambered off her. She was still counting and the tears still rolled down her cheeks.

  He looked over at her as he dressed. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” His words were spoken in fast anger. She got up quickly and rushed her clothes on as fast as she could.

  “Mel?” He buttoned up his jeans and walked over to her when she didn’t reply. She threw on her T-shirt, covered her bare skin as fast as she could, then climbed into the safety of her jeans.

  Ignoring him completely, she looked around the room making sure she hadn’t left anything. Then opened her purse and double-checked she had the memory stick.

  “Mel?” He stood directly in front of her, blocking her path. His face was softer now, almost as if an ounce of regret had mellowed the hardness. She wanted to spit at his face.

  “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

  “I don’t even know you anymore.”

  “Come on, we were good once.” He seemed to want proof of validation.

  “When you were the IT guy and nothing else.” She sidestepped him and walked towards the door, needing to escape and put this sorry episode behind her, to forever wash it out of her memories.

  He buttressed himself against the door. “Don’t say that. You make me sound like a monster.”

  “You are a monster.” She tugged at the door handle. “Let me go. We had a deal and I delivered my end of it.”

  “I love you, Mel.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He moved then, to let her go, but followed closely on her heels, still shirtless. She charged out of the room, down his end of the hallway and prayed that the kitchen would be empty.

  Like a playful puppy at her heels, he pranced behind her, trying to grab her attention. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to—”

  “Oh, hey, Matt. I didn’t know you were—”

  She’d walked through the kitchen, her eyes trained on the front door up ahead. But someone was already in there. The greeting stopped Melissa in her tracks and she knew Matt, behind her, had stopped to
o.

  “Hey. I uh—” Matt stood beside her. Melissa stopped and turned.

  And saw Noah staring at them both as if they were apparitions. His face a picture of scarlet disbelief

  Her morning breakfast churned inside her stomach, like spider ants on the rampage, eating their way out. Noah’s mouth hung open and he looked from Melissa to Matt. She recognized the fleeting movement behind his eyes, the way his head lifted up slowly, and then he swallowed, and composed himself quickly.

  He’d already placed his verdict.

  “This is Melissa.” Matt turned to her, as though he’d claimed a victory, oblivious to her distress. “And this is Noah, the new guy who’s just moved in.”

  Her body turned to pulp, and she felt as though her insides would cave any moment. The look of hurt in Noah’s eyes cut her to the core. She stared back, beaten, guilty as sin, seeing her shame reflected in the expression he wore.

  Matt, topless, and barefoot, wearing only jeans was advertisement enough of what had gone on. But she couldn’t say anything.

  “Hi,” was the only word she could utter. She looked at him, but he barely glanced at her, dismissing her as casually as lint on a carpet with a cursory nod of his head.

  “Nice to meet you,” Noah said, his eyes cold. In the next second, he looked away from her; it was as if he’d pulled a switch, and shut off any feelings he might have had for her.

  She had no words, no voice, no movement, no will. It was only the way Matt looked at her that made her snap back into the present. “She wanted to pay me a morning visit, seeing that we didn’t get to see each other last night.” His bragging words would have humiliated her further, but she was beyond the point of caring.

  Panic settled into her bloodstream, seeped into her cells.

  She had lost everything.

  “Happy New Year, guys.” Noah’s greeting was aimed at Matt. “I didn’t know you were busy, sorry, dude.” The way he said “busy” made her insides squirm.

  Frozen in time and space in the kitchen, Matt appeared to be the only one of them who felt no awkwardness at this meeting. At last Noah moved. He placed his cup in the sink and slowly walked away, not looking at her again.

  At that moment, the kettle he’d switched on, finished boiling. Melissa watched the steam rise out of the snout and the sound of a door slam hard.

  She ran out of the apartment, heartbroken.

  Chapter 30

  Noah leaned against his door, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes closed, and relived the moment he’d caught Melissa red-handed.

  It could not be and yet it was. The girl he’d spent last night with had turned out to be nothing more than a two-timing she-devil. Right now, believing she had a twin was more desirable than facing the truth.

  But then last night…he’d been certain that it was the start of something. He’d been sure of her too—the way she’d looked at him, he could see it in her eyes—what she felt for him. He’d always liked her but had needed to know that there might be a chance, no matter how slim, that she felt the same. Last night he was sure he had his answer.

  But now…

  It didn’t take much to figure out what she and Matt had been doing. He’d been annoyed at himself for not taking her contact details, but now with all that had happened, he was relieved it had turned out that way. He had nothing to say to her and he had no interest in listening to anything she might have to say. Someone like that, a two-timing, double-crossing woman like that was the last thing he needed in his life. Yet, no matter how much he thought it all through, it still didn’t make any sense. She had been a sweet, friendly, easy-to-get to know kind of girl. He was familiar with lies and deception—he’d seen it and dealt with these things with Bree. He’d stared both in the face and look how that had ended.

  Paul hadn’t spoken of their other housemate too much. But he recalled that he’d referred to him as a jerk—and was thankful that Noah had moved in. Noah himself had only met Matt briefly when he’d moved in and collected his key. He couldn’t yet formulate his own opinion. Though maybe now all future opinions of him would be tainted.

  A message beeped on his computer screen, reminding him that he still had a priority call to deal with. He’d need to get onto it before it got escalated all the way up to Rory. But the way he felt right now, he didn’t have a clear enough head to focus on anything, let alone to give this technical problem his attention.

  Feeling confident that Melissa had left the apartment by now, Noah stormed out into the kitchen to get the coffee that had been denied to him last time. He touched the shiny kettle—the water was still just-boiled hot, the way he liked it. Caffeine would help down.

  “Hey.” He turned to find Matt, this time dressed in a T-shirt, looking through the cupboards.

  “Hey.” Noah turned back and fixed his coffee. He wasn’t in the mood for talking, and this guy was definitely the last person he wanted to speak to.

  “How’re you settling in?” He munched on a croissant and observed Noah.

  “Good.” Noah held his mug, ready to return to his room.

  “Yeah?”

  Noah sighed, the guy seemed eager to strike up a conversation. “The room’s a bit small, but we have Wi-Fi, so…nothing to complain about.”

  “Late night?” Matt asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Get up to anything exciting?”

  “We went to”—he stopped himself before he said anything that might give Melissa away—“some place with people. What about you?”

  “My girlfriend—Melissa—she went out last night, but I had stuff I needed to do…”

  Noah’s insides stiffened. He felt like an eavesdropper, listening to a conversation he had no right to. Nodding politely at Matt he made a move to leave but the hint was lost on Matt who continued to talk. “She wanted to go out. I hate all that noise and people. But you know how girls are.”

  Noah grinned, as if in understanding and took a step forward.

  “Still, she couldn’t wait to get here first thing to show me how much she missed me.” A greasy smile swept his face and Noah felt the bitter taste of coffee suddenly repulsive.

  Paul was right; you are a jerk. This time he took a firm step forward. “She seems nice enough. Anyway, sorry, man. I’ve got an urgent support call to take care of.”

  Matt jerked up as if he remembered something. “Paul said you work for Black Diamond.”

  Noah nodded his head.

  “I hear they’re looking for people. I’m trying to leave. The place I work for is a joke. I’m looking for more money and more responsibility. There’s no chance of me moving up at my current place. Do you think we could get together and go through a few things? You know, if you could give me pointers.”

  “Yeah, sure,” said Noah, though the last thing he wanted to do was to spend any time with the guy. “Not at the moment though. I’m kinda busy.”

  “Cool. I can wait. Maybe we’ll hook up next week sometime?” Matt suggested.

  There was nothing he wanted less. Finding himself in a corner, Noah gave a nod of his head. “Sure.” Then left. He’d have to make sure he was never around the same time as that guy was. Especially when Melissa came over again.

  She couldn’t wait to get here first thing to show me how much she missed me. The words rankled him. He’d never before been so wrong about anyone as he had with Melissa. She was far from the seemingly shy and slightly introverted but normal girl he’d believed her to be.

  His work cell phone rang as he returned to his room and he answered it with relief, thankful to have something that would distract his mind from Melissa’s betrayal.

  Chapter 31

  She stood for the longest time in the shower and took so long that an alarmed Heather now banged on the door, worried. “Melissa? You’ve been in there over an hour.”

  Had she? Had she been under the streaming jet of hot water for that long? She couldn’t feel a thing. She stared absentmindedly at the white tiles through the haze
of steam. Everything looked cloudy, blurred. It was safe and warm in here and she could easily lose herself in the blurry haze, could easily stay in here another hour, staring at the steam on the tiles. She didn’t want to talk to anyone or see anyone. She wanted to vanish, wanted to disappear down some deep, dark hole where no-one would find her.

  She’d scrubbed her body twice. Once to get the smell of him off her. Twice to scrub herself red raw. Her body smarted with pain from the sting of exfoliation.

  “Melissa? Are you alright?” Another loud knock followed. She heard Heather but couldn’t bring herself to answer. She felt a disconnect between her body and her thoughts. Inhaling deeply, she stayed put, lost and hidden in the overheated bathroom, her safe haven.

  “Melissa.” When Heather tried the handle, Melissa knew her friend was worried. Usually Heather didn’t even notice whether Melissa was around or not. But now her inability to move was as strong as her desire to remain enveloped in the fog.

  “I’m fine.” She forced herself to shout out a reply. “I’ll be out soon.” But when Heather banged again, she was propelled into slow action.

  She would have to face the world at some point. With reluctance, she turned the faucet and watched as the water slowly trickled to a drip. Drying herself, she wandered out and headed toward her room, wanting nothing more than to go to bed again. She lay down in her bathrobe, with no desire to get dressed.

  “What’s wrong?” A concerned Heather reappeared in her room and now bent down looking at her as she lay on her stomach, her whole body on the bed, her wet hair dangling on her back and shoulders. She hadn’t even bothered to rough dry it. Small droplets of water soaked through the thick bathrobe, slowly wetting her back.

  Heather touched her gently on her shoulder. “Mel?”

  I want to go to sleep.

  Heather knelt on the floor quietly and stroked Melissa’s face with her hand. But Melissa wanted so badly to close her eyes and go to sleep, to pretend none of this had happened.