Tainted Love

by Jaimie Roberts

  “What the fuck happened here?” Chris asks, his voice panic-stricken and angry.

  Exhaustion setting in, I sigh. “Can we not talk about it right now? All I want to do is get home and take a shower. I smell like shit.”

  “Do you still have that spare helmet in your boot?” Unable to speak, I nod my head. Tears want to spring, but I’m willing them down. “Go get it. I’m taking you home.”

  “I can dri…”

  “Fuck, Bri, will you just listen to me for once? The car can stay here. I can bring you to work next time.”

  I note the fact that he didn’t say tomorrow. Just next time. I don’t want to argue with him. I simply haven’t got the energy to. So I open the boot and grab the spare helmet while Chris grabs my bag and phone which are still scattered on the floor from my attack.

  Then it dawns on me.

  I was attacked. They were going to rape me—teach me a lesson. A lesson for what?

  Chris takes the helmet from my hand and places it on my head. He grabs the helmet in both hands, making me look at him. “I’m going to get you home, okay? You’re safe now, baby. No one will ever hurt you again. Got it?”

  Tears well my eyes as I nod my head. Chris zeroes, his eyes narrowing, anger present from my distress. He drops his hands from my helmet, grabbing mine to pull me to the bike. His swift movements tell me he wants to get out of here as quickly as possible and have me home where I belong.

  Pulling my leg up to wrap it around the bike, I wince, remembering the pain from being kicked.

  “What’s wrong?” Chris asks, panicked.

  Stealthily, I climb on his bike, wrapping my arms around him. “I’m fine. It’s okay. Please, let’s just get home.”

  With no further hesitation, the bike’s engine comes roaring to life, and then we’re off, cool air hitting my body. With a slight shiver, I place my hands into the pockets of Chris’s jacket and concentrate on watching the world go by.

  With the advantage of being on the bike, we beat the rush hour traffic, zooming past all the cars, and arriving home a few minutes later. Chris is off the bike, immediately tending to me, careful with every movement he makes—almost as if he thinks I will break. He takes my helmet off, brandishing a sad smile before grabbing my hand and leading me to the elevator. On the way up, he simply takes me into his arms, kissing the top of my head.

  That’s when the dam bursts. Great, big, fat tears spill out of my eyes and soak into Chris’s jacket. All the while he just holds me, gently leading me to our apartment. I continue to cry as he runs a bath and undresses me. When the water’s filled, he gently places me in the bath, the warmth of it stinging my vaginal region. I close my eyes against the pain, desperately trying to hide a wince that wants to let rip.

  “You’re in pain.”

  I open my eyes. Chris’s posture is relaxed, but his eyes are wild, holding anger, desperation, fear, and revenge. He won’t let this lie.

  And I don’t want him to.

  When I nod my head, acknowledging the pain, Chris simply walks out of the bathroom. “Just give me a sec.”

  For a brief minute, I’m alone with my thoughts. Flashbacks of what the guys did to me and were about to do flick through my mind like an endless slideshow. Of Charlie and him stepping in to save me, taking down all three of them with ease.

  “Here, take these.”

  Chris is holding out his hand, a couple of white tablets in the palm. I know they’re not simply paracetamol, but at this present moment, I don’t care. I just want the pain to go away.

  I take the tablets then grab the glass of amber liquid from his other hand, downing them all in quick succession. Chris takes the empty glass from me, placing it on the sink before he sits down on the toilet seat. He’s going to want answers—answers I’m not ready to tell him but owe him, nonetheless.

  “You need to tell me what happened, babe.”

  I’m surprised at how calm he’s being in the face of everything. Sure, his posture is rigid, his leg twitching as he sits, his jaw ticcing with the information that I’m about to give him. But his soft voice holds nothing but love.

  I take in a deep breath, and I tell him everything that transpired. Chris hadn’t hung up yet, so he heard the initial attack. When I divulge the fact that they were going to gang rape me, Chris almost shoots up from his seat, his knees bending ready to get up, but something seems to hold him back. He sucks in a breath, his teeth bearing with rage.

  “Is there any information you can tell me about them? Eye colour? Build? Their accents?”

  “All of them had local accents. Two of them were heavily built, the other one skinny.”

  “Terry, you fucking pussy, come back!”

  “The skinny one was called Terry. Well, that’s what one of them shouted to him when he ran away. The bigger guy with the evil smirking eyes, I believe they were dark brown. He was the only one who came close to me—the one who kicked me.”

  His intake of breath echoes around the bathroom walls, his fists squeezed so tightly together that I can see the whites of his knuckles.

  “Are you going to be okay for a couple of minutes while I make a phone call?”

  I simply nod my head. If I say no, he’ll stay, but he’d be completely useless for me. He needs to let off steam. He’s angry, and he wants payback.

  I close my eyes, a warm fuzziness spreading through me as I run my fingers through the water. Whatever Chris has given me is already working. The pain is gone replaced by a light, tingling sensation which makes me smile. I sigh my contentment, zeroing in on the hum of Chris’s distant voice as he speaks to someone on the phone. The hum escalates to a full boom as his anger rises.

  “I’m telling you now that I want their dicks cut off and fed to the fucking pigs. I want to watch their eyes as the life drains out of them. I want those fucker’s heads on the platters of their mother’s best fucking China!”

  A small giggle erupts from me as I picture little, bloody heads dancing on China. It’s like I’m floating on a fluffy cloud. All the cares and woes I endured only minutes ago have gone, replaced with only calm and relaxation.

  Silence fills the bathroom, but movement from the door alerts me. Chris walks in, a scowl on his face, but when his eyes meet my smile, his sour face changes… just like that.

  “You’re funny.”

  Chris slightly chuckles under his breath as he takes a seat on the toilet. “I see the tablets have kicked in.”

  I flick up some bubbles with my hand and blow them into the air, watching as they float before coming to rest on the side of the bath. “What did you give me?”

  “Has the pain gone?”

  Closing my eyes, calmness floats over my whole body again. “Oh, yeah.”

  “Then does it matter what it is I gave you? As long as it’s working.”

  “I want to suck your cock.”

  Chris chuckles again, shaking his head. “There’s no doing that until you’re better. Besides, I haven’t got the results back for that test, remember?”

  A deep frown creases my forehead as I pout my lips. “I want that bitch gone.”

  “You never have to worry about her again. I can assure you of that.”

  “What does that mean?” I can hazard a guess, but my fuzzy mind doesn’t give a crap.

  “She’s out of the country, working at another whorehouse. I’m guessing she won’t have many customers for a while considering how messed up her face was after you went to town on her.” His posture straightens like he’s proud, a small smirk curving his lips.

  Although the Black Mamba is strictly a nightclub, they are known for hiring prostitutes for the VIP areas on the down-low. I’ve never liked it, but I trust Chris. I know for a fact he would never cheat on me.

  That kind of makes me a hypocrite, considering the feelings I have for my boss, but feeling and acting are two completely different things.

  “She deserved it.”

  “There’s no doubt about that,” Chris answers, gett
ing up. “I think we need to get you out of the bath. Any longer and you’ll fall asleep. You can hardly keep your eyes open as it is.”

  Really? I just thought I was a little sleepy.

  An arm wraps underneath me, pulling the plug. “Spoilsport,” I utter under my breath.

  “I’m not going to have my baby drowning. Come on,” he says, holstering me up and wrapping a towel round me. With my legs still in the bath, my height advantage allows me to snake my arms straight over Chris’s shoulders. With hooded eyes, I watch him studying me. I lean forward, sticking my tongue out then running it along his bottom lip. Chris’s breath hitches. He’s so easily turned on by anything I do, and knowing that turns me on too.

  “Stop teasing me, Bri. You know I have no control when it comes to you. Absolutely fucking zero.”

  I kiss him lightly once, twice, and then we’re full on tongues, our bodies glued together, gripping each other tightly. My hands thread through his hair, fisting them and pulling him closer—as if being this close isn’t enough. Our breathing heavy and harsh, a growl leaves Chris’s lips which awakens my loins even further.

  Then he pulls away from me, holding me up by his one arm. He leans forward trying to catch his breath. “Fuck!” he snaps, frustration in his voice. Resting one hand on his knee, he closes his eyes, taking in a couple of deep breaths before looking up again. “You’re only acting like this because of the drugs. We’re not having sex tonight. No matter how much either of us want it. And believe you me, whenever you’re in my presence, I want it.”

  “I love you,” I blurt, making him smile. I’ve always loved his smile. It lights up my heart whenever he gifts it to me.

  “I know you do. And I love you too. Maybe even too much.”

  With the water now completely drained, Chris places his arm underneath my bum and lifts me up with ease before carrying me into the bedroom. I snuggle my head into the crook of his neck. I’m so tired now, I could so easily fall asleep like this in his arms.

  He places me down on my feet, and I stumble a bit. “Woah there, tiger. Let’s get you dried and into bed ASAP.”

  As Chris gently dries me down with the towel, despite my sleepiness, I cast my eyes on him, unable to look away. What we have… it’s too much. In my darkest thoughts, I have often wondered if what we have will kill us one day. We’re like tainted lovers fighting the whole world, but one day the world will fight back.

  Once I’m dry, Chris snuggles me into bed, laying a kiss on my forehead as he sits beside me.

  “Do you ever think we’re wrong, you and I?” I ask, those last thoughts still in my head.

  “Fate brought us together, Bri. There ain’t nothing fucking wrong with that. We belong together. Just like the stars belong in the sky. Like life, it just… is.”

  Closing my eyes, I breathe out a contented sigh. “You’re like a poet and shit.”

  Chris chuckles under his breath. “And you’re just too adorable for words.” A tender kiss is placed on my forehead again as the pull to fall asleep consumes me. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

  I wake with a start, my head fuzzy and pounding. “Ugh, what the fuck is that?” My body aches, especially round me pelvic area. Did Chris and I have rough sex last night?

  I rub my eyes, confusion filling me, and then a hand snakes round mine, making me jump.

  “It’s okay, Bri. It’s only me.”

  I fully open my eyes, Chris’s bright smile greeting me with a cup of steaming coffee in his hand.

  “Oh, you beauty,” I say, greedily grabbing the mug from his hand. “I ache all over. Why does it feel like I’ve been kicked in the…”

  And then it all comes flooding back. The three masked men, the assault, attempted rape—rape that would have been carried out if it wasn’t for my boss.

  Work!

  “Shit, what time is it?” I have to get to work. My head snaps to the digital clock on the nightstand. It’s after ten!

  “Bri, calm the fuck down. You’re not going to work today. I spoke with your boss, and he said he didn’t want you in for the rest of the week. He wants you to rest, and so do I.”

  Panic subsiding slightly, I close my eyes, but when I do, all I see are ski masks. All I see are those men taunting me, pulling my jeans down.

  Tears begin to well in my eyes, and the mug quakes in my shaking hand.

  “Oh, shit. Bri, give me your coffee.” I hand it to him, and within seconds I’m in his arms, his hands caressing my hair as he lands soft kisses on my head. “You’ll never have to go through anything like that ever again. Do you hear me, Bri?” Sniffling, I nod my head into the crook of his neck. “You will get justice for what they did to you. I fucking promise you that.”

  I pull back, wiping my runny nose. “How will you ever be able to find them? They all wore ski masks.”

  Chris bares his teeth, his jaw tic, tic, ticcing. “You had a name. We’ll go from there. If the Carver family has a Terry working for them, we’ll find out.”

  The Carver family runs much of the east end of London. When Chris took over Waltham Forest, Graham Carver (the boss, also known as Frosty because of his white hair and stern appearance) didn’t take too kindly to a newcomer taking over an untapped area. It took Chris weeks of negotiations and promises not to meddle in Carver family affairs. Initially, Frosty agreed, but only if he got a percentage of the cuts earned. Chris, knowing that he’ll only end up walking all over him, stood his ground. This was Chris’s turf, nothing to do with him. Frosty had no interest in Waltham Forest before Chris started becoming known in the area and whispers of him followed.

  A year back, Chris was set upon by two men with a baseball bat. Because of his training, he ended up beating the shit out of them, sending them with their tail between their legs and a message to their boss that Chris was not to be messed with. A war of words and even more fights ensued, but Chris never backed down. In the end, Frosty called a truce. There would be peace as long as Chris kept within his area. Ever since then, things have been bitter but civil. I’m guessing something has changed since if Chris believes I was targeted by the Carver family.

  “What have you done?” I ask, assuming he must have done something.

  Chris sighs, looking away. “We’re not earning enough as quick as I want to in Waltham Forest…”

  “Oh, Chris, you promised this shit wouldn’t happen.” And he had. We both agreed that he would do what needs to be done to earn money, but not at the cost of our lives. It’s just not worth it.

  “I know,” he says, grabbing both my hands to make me look at him. “We have lots of money, Bri, but not enough to leave here and make a new life. I want to marry you, and we can’t do that here. I’m getting… impatient.”

  I almost snap that his impatience nearly got me raped, but I hold my tongue. What happened to me may have nothing to do with the Carver family. Besides, my attack seemed all too… personal.

  “Are you certain that Frosty knows what you’re doing?”

  “I’ve been careful, so I hadn’t thought so. Still, I can never guarantee anything. It’s not an area of his, so he can go fuck himself.”

  I sigh aloud, causing Chris to look up. “It’s not about that, though, is it? It’s about keeping the peace. Just slow the fuck down a little, Chris. Please.”

  He squeezes my hands in his. “Okay, okay. I’ll slow things down. But I will tell you one thing for certain. If he ordered this, he’s not going to get away with it. No matter how long it takes to get revenge, I will raise holy hell on the motherfucker.”

  My mind doesn’t want to wander back to that attack, but something still feels off about it. Something I can’t quite put my finger on.

  “I think this was personal.”

  A deep crease forms in Chris’s forehead. “What do you mean?”

  “One of them said I needed to be taught a lesson. It was almost as if I had done something to them.”

  “They fucking said that shit to you?”

  Squeezing his hand, I pu
ll him closer. “Stay with me on this. Getting angry isn’t going to solve anything. You need to be calm in order to think rationally.” Chris takes in a deep breath, nodding, nothing but pure, heated rage swimming in those blue eyes of his. “The other unusual thing was one of the three men never spoke a word. He was the one who kicked me and pulled my jeans down…” Chris sucks in a breath, his face turning red. He’s about to blow. “I think he didn’t talk from fear that I would recognise his voice, which can only mean one thing.”

  Anger is replaced by realisation. “You know him.”

  “I could be wrong.” I shrug. “He could just be mute. Does the Carver family have anyone working for them who can’t or won’t speak?”

  Chris looks down, his fingers on the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. “I don’t think so. Fuck, whoever it is won’t stay hidden for long. I’m going to make sure we find out who those three are, and believe me, baby. They will live to regret that they ever touched a hair on your head.”

  Oh, I have no doubt about that. I secretly want it that way too.

  “Drink your coffee and relax for a bit. I’m going to make some breakfast. Scrambled eggs?”

  Propping a pillow up, I lean against it and grab my coffee mug. “Sounds great. Breakfast in bed. I could get used to this.”

  “You know for a fact you could give up that shitty job and become a lady of leisure, but your stubborn arse won’t have any of it.”

  I smirk behind my coffee cup. Chris is like a bad version of Del Boy from Only Fools and Horses. He thinks one day we’ll be millionaires and run off into the sunset together, eventually getting married and having babies.

  That last thought always makes me shiver inside, but I push that dark thought away and instead live in this playful moment with him. “Being a stubborn arse keeps you on your toes.”

  Chris places a hand on the door, smiling back. “Ain’t that the truth.” He taps the door and walks out, leaving me alone with only my coffee and my thoughts for company. My mind quickly wanders to Charlie—which doesn’t take much—but after what happened yesterday, I’m more eager than ever to find out about the mystery behind the man. I’ve always had a strong inkling that he was more than just an antiques dealer. I’m guessing he served in forces of some kind, but I could be wrong. He’s such a closed shop that it makes me want to delve deeper. It’s his own fault. If he wasn’t so enigmatic then maybe I wouldn’t find him so… entrancing. He’s like a puzzle with most of the pieces missing. And I never let a puzzle stay unfinished. I’m stubborn like that.