I really shouldn’t let my mind wander to questions regarding Charlie, but it’s better than the alternative. Physically, I will get over my attack, but I’m sure it will remain a thread in my head for a while to come. I have no doubt that Chris will seek and enact justice on the three who did this to me. I just wish I didn’t have to live with memories of the attack running through my thoughts.
A few minutes run by, and then Chris appears with a tray full of scrambled eggs and toast. On the side is a glass of OJ.
“You spoil me too much.”
I pull myself up to allow Chris to place the tray on my lap. “I don’t spoil you enough.”
Chris has this insane notion that he doesn’t do enough for me, when in fact, it couldn’t be further from the truth. Whenever he’s with me, his focus and attention are always on me. His eyes either gentle with love or hooded with lust offer me all that had been lacking in my life up until he came into it. At home, I was only loved by my brother, so when he left, I had nothing. My mum died, and my dad grew more and more disinterested. The only other people I had left were my uncles. One of which—Pete—took an interest in me no uncle should. When given an opportunity, he would grab my waist, his hand sliding down to my arse where he would squeeze until he would hear that gasp that would instantly light up his sick, twisted eyes. He would always try and get me alone by suggesting he take me out to see a film or buy me some food. I would get hungry because we hardly had food in the house, but I was never that hungry. For a long while, I would always decline, because I knew for a fact that his groping would eventually turn to something more serious. I even lost my virginity to a boy I only semi-liked just so that my uncle wouldn’t get to me first. Unfortunately for me, things did get worse at home, and when Pete saw I was losing weight, he quickly realised I was starving, using that—big time—to his advantage.
By the time I was old enough to get a job, I left and never looked back. I cut all ties to everyone in Newham, moving only nine miles away. I figured when I left that they would believe I left London altogether. I have no idea if my dad or my uncle are looking for me. As long as my sleazy uncle never finds me, then I’ll be okay.
Ignoring Chris’s comment, I ask, “Did you give Michael all the details?” As much as I don’t want to think about what happened last night, I still want to know what’s going on.
“Yes, he’s looking into it.”
“Is he back with Tarryn now?”
Chris frowns. “How do you know about Tarryn?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Michael and I do talk, you know. We talked about her when you were passed out in the back of my car that night.” I’m guessing Chris doesn’t know how Brandon spoke to me that night. I haven’t said anything, and I’m guessing Michael hasn’t either since he’s not one to gossip. He will only speak when there’s something important to say.
“I don’t like the fact that you’re so pally with Michael that you know about his girlfriend troubles.”
And there it is. The green-eyed monster. It never takes much with Chris. “Do you not trust me?”
I’m being hypocritical. When it comes to Charlie, Chris should worry, but he never does. I assume it has something to do with the fact I lied and told him he was gay.
Yeah, I’m going to hell for that.
“I trust you, it’s Michael I don’t trust. He wants to fuck you, you know?”
A small giggle erupts from me. “You think every man wants to fuck me.”
“Talking of which, I thought you said your boss is gay?”
And there it is. The lie coming to the surface. “He is,” I answer, clearing my thought, developing a sudden interest in my breakfast. I take a bite of my eggs and close my eyes, humming my approval. They’re good.
“He fought all those men off.”
A bit of egg gets caught in my throat. I cough, patting my chest, and when I start to calm, I laugh. “You think gay men can’t fight as well as straight men?”
He sighs through his nose. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
I laugh even harder. “That’s exactly what you’re saying.” I really don’t want him focusing on Charlie. He’s the only thing that I have that closely resembles something normal in my life.
“Listen, it really doesn’t matter about his sexual orientation right now. What matters is he saved me from getting raped. We should be eternally grateful to him for that.”
Gritting his teeth, Chris’s eyes glare with danger. “I am grateful, but it should have been me who saved you. I’m the only one who gets to save my girl.”
Setting down my fork, I grab his hand, pulling him closer to me. “And you have. Remember that life I led way back when? You saved me from that. I would still be in that grotty, horrible studio flat struggling to pay the bills and put food on the table if it wasn’t for you.”
“You should never have had to be in that position in the first place.”
I haven’t told Chris about Pete. He would be out for blood if I did. As far as he’s concerned, all ties are cut with my family, and forever will stay that way.
Chris fusses where he sits, causing the duvet to slip and reveal my breasts. His eyes immediately travel there—like a beacon homing in on its target. His eyes become hooded, and his nostrils flare with desire, but he glances away, instead getting off the bed to fetch me one of his t-shirts, handing it to me.
“Here, put this on.”
This is really hard for him. We’ve never gone a single day without having sex. Sometimes we’re so wrapped up in each other we can go several times in one day. It’s so strange. When I’m apart from him, it’s so easy to let my mind wander to other things, but stick us together and my focus is one hundred percent on him.
He realises I will need time to heal first, and so do I. That’s why I grab the t-shirt from him without hesitation and place it over my head. Chris makes an excuse to leave, mumbling something about needing to make a phone call. Phone call equaling needing some space from me.
Yes. We have it that bad for each other.
I use my time alone to finish off my breakfast, and when I’m done, I throw the duvet from me and ease out of the bed. I’m still feeling sore in my nether regions, but better than I did last night. I frown, remembering the tablets Chris gave me. My mind became fuzzy after I got into the bath, which leads me to believe that whatever they were pack some punch. I should be mad at him for giving me something as strong as that, but I also know his intentions were honourable.
Gingerly, I grab the tray, my muscles aching but from lack of use more than anything. I crack my neck, rounding my shoulders as I carry the tray out of my bedroom and into the living room/kitchen area. Chris is hunched over the island, his eyes dark and dangerous, his posture rigid. He’s unaware of me at first, his hand resting on his temples, rubbing them in thought. I know that look. He’s planning something. And I have a feeling that plan somehow involves me.
“Penny for them?” I ask, nearing the sink. I place the contents beside it and turn to face him. Chris’s posture turns from rigid to soft within a nanosecond of seeing my smile. He pushes himself up from the island, his white t-shirt high enough for me to glance a peek at just one of the many tattoos he’s had designed over the years. The biggest one is my name, which he proudly wears across his chest in Algerian font. He has a multitude of scars on his torso, most of them covered by tattoos. When he had my name done, he said it was a symbol of covering something bad with something good. I will forever be etched into his skin till the day he dies.
He snakes his arms around me until they rest on my hips, then he pulls me close, inhaling before he lands a soft kiss on my lips. Upon exhale, I smell the mixture of coffee and marijuana on his breath.
“Just thinking about work. That’s all.”
I pull my head back to gaze at his expression, noting the element of confusion on his face when I do. “You mean you’re figuring out ways to shoot people first then ask questions later. I know some arseholes hurt me, Chris, but ple
ase promise me you won’t go in all guns blazing until you know all the facts. Maybe whoever did this thought you would react violently and is counting on you screwing up. Just… be careful. That’s all I’m saying.”
Chris stares at me a long time, his eyes holding me captive the whole time. Then he nods, the corners of his lip curving. “Cross my heart and hope to die, baby.”
That’s what I’m afraid of.
Over the next few days, I fully heal physically, but mentally I am still replaying my attack over and over again in my head, trying my hardest to remember things, but also not wanting to. My head is fucked. And it doesn’t help that my body is raging war against my head. My body desperately wants Chris, but my head has been winning so far.
I fucking hate my head.
It doesn’t help matters that Chris is feeling the pinch too. He’s been crabby and distant. I understand that a major part of it is because of my ordeal, but I also know he’s missing me. Missing us. I think a part of me realises that I won’t feel good about anything until I know who it was that attacked me. I’m starting to think Chris feels that way too.
“I noticed you had company this morning.”
Typical of Charlie. No good morning or hello or how are you. Straight to the point.
Swivelling in my chair, I face him. He’s wearing a blue button-down shirt, which is tucked neatly into his jeans. Jeans which rest ever so perfectly on his hips. He has dark rims around his eyes like he hasn’t slept, but that doesn’t stop the storm in his golden irises from holding me captive.
“Chris says he’s going to drop me off and pick me up from now on. You know… after what happened and all.”
Charlie glances away a moment, nodding his head. “Yeah, erm… how are you feeling after that?”
Finally, a question. A question that shows me he does somewhat care. “I’m feeling a lot better now, thanks. And thank you for letting me have that time off. I didn’t think I needed it, but I definitely did.”
Charlie fixes his eyes on me, a sharper nod this time. “Tell him that if there’s a time he can’t make it for some reason, I will make sure you’re safely brought to the shop and returned home.”
And just like that, the steely walls around this man lower. Only slightly, but enough to let me see that he really does have a heart under that unwavering persona of his.
I bite my lip, my heart skipping a beat when his eyes land on my mouth. “Thank you.”
Clearing his throat, his posture straightens. “As long as you’re okay.”
And just like that, he disappears into his back office, leaving me feeling slightly stupefied and breathless. The encounter, although brief, fills me with a coating of warm sunshine. To some, it may not seem like anything special, but to me, it meant a lot.
A ping of the bell chimes, alerting me to a customer. No time to be dwelling on the tiny bit of concern my boss just awarded me. I swivel back in my seat, my smile ready for whoever is at the door. But when I see who it is, all the colour drains from my face, my heart accelerating with each step he takes inside the shop.
Frosty.
I sit rigid in my chair, mouth dry, my eyes following him as he absentmindedly takes in his surroundings. He doesn’t give a shit about the shop. It’s all for show.
With hair as white as a snowman and his moustache as black as a panther, his eyes dart around the shop until they eventually land on me. He brandishes a smile, but in no way is it meant to be friendly. Still, he’s playing the part, and his presence alone sends shivers up my spine. No doubt he senses this and is enjoying every moment of my discomfort.
Sick fuck.
“Good morning,” he practically sings, his hand clasped on a Fedora style hat he swings obliviously to and fro.
“Good morning,” I say back, trying not to let my voice break too much. “How can I help you today?”
His icy blue eyes land on mine. “Brianna… isn’t it?” With a swallow, I nod my head. He steps forward, and my body instantly cringes at his close proximity. Will I have enough time to call Charlie before this arsehole causes some real damage?
“Relax, I’m not here to hurt you.”
Okay, cool. I’m glad we got that out of the way.
For some reason, his words don’t make me feel any better.
“On the contrary, in fact.” His eyes sweep over my body, noting my discomfort. When he places his hat on the counter, he sighs. “I heard about what happened to you last week.” My posture picks up, my heart rate accelerating even more. Frosty pulls his hand up in response, a placating gesture. “I’m not here to cause you alarm. I just want you to tell your boyfriend to stop sniffing around my men, causing no end of trouble. None of them had anything to do with your attack, so it needs to fucking stop.”
Despite the amount of fear trying to strangle me, I swallow it down, my chin held high. “And we’re supposed to take your word at face value?”
A small snarl crosses his lips. Only slight, but enough to make me wish I could take back what I just said. Frosty inhales a deep breath, his hands resting on the counter. He studies me a moment before responding. “When I was a young lad, my older sister was gang raped whilst on a night out with her friends. I had to listen to her night after night, howling to the sky, pain tearing away at her insides. I was too young to do anything back then, but when I was old enough, I made sure those men were never able to rape again.”
Holy fucking shit!
He turns away, gritting his teeth, the memory of it all evidently still painful. He inhales another breath, looking back at me. “I may be a lot of things, Brianna, but I will never harm a woman just to prove some kind of fucking point. I came to you because I believe you’re the sensible one of you two.” He leans forward, teeth bearing slightly. “Tell him to back the fuck off. What happened to you has nothing to do with me.” He straightens up, snapping his hat off the counter in the process. I stay still, rooted to my chair, my eyes unblinking. He walks to the door, opens it, and is about to walk through when he hesitates. I can only see his profile, but it’s almost as if he’s having some kind of debate in his head. Whatever the dispute is, it’s decided on an exhale.
“Tell Chris that if he stops looking into my men and concentrates closer to home, he may find who the real culprits were.” And on that last word, he steps out, closing the door behind him like he hadn’t just left a hurricane in his wake.
“Holy shit!” I shout out loud, forgetting where I am.
“What was that all about?”
I almost jump out of my skin when I spot Charlie standing in the doorway. How much of that conversation did he hear?
My heartbeat accelerating even more, I glance around the counter and start messing with some paperwork on it—anything than actually having to look at my boss and outright lie to his face. “Err… it’s nothing. Just… a friend.”
I almost roll my eyes at my stupidity. A friend? Seriously, Bri?!
“Hmm,” I hear him mutter under his breath. “Whatever you say.”
I need to get out of this shop for a moment and call Chris. Without a moment’s notice, I swing my body around to face my boss, noticing his disappearing frame as I do. “Er, Charlie, can I go to the cafe?”
“Yes!” he shouts back.
“Do you want anything?”
“No,” is all he replies.
This is one of those rare moments when I’m so glad Charlie is all too aloof about everything around him. I know he doesn’t ask too many questions because he would hate any in return.
Scrambling off my seat, I grab my phone and some money and rush outside. I’m shaking so bad that I put my PIN in wrong, cursing under my breath. I let out an exasperated groan, managing to somehow pull myself together and type my code in correctly. I find Chris’s number, calling him quickly. He answers after two rings.
“Bri, is everything okay?” The panic in his voice is evident, but that doesn’t surprise me after everything that’s happened.
“I’m fine, but I had a v
isitor.”
“Who?” His words are clipped and angry.
“Frosty.” I hear his intake of breath but cut him off before he has a chance to speak. “Now, before you go off like a caveman, he only came in to speak with me. He wasn’t threatening in any way. He just wanted to talk. He said you’ve been asking too many questions, harassing his men.”
“Well, if it’s not his men, then who else can it be?” he answers on a growl.
I let out an exhale, closing my eyes. “I think he knows something. He believes we should be looking closer to home, which means he thinks it’s one of your guys.”
“No fucking way. They all know better than to pull a stunt like that.”
I remain quiet for a moment, biting my lip. I must admit, it has crossed my mind that it could be related to the incident at the club, but I’ve refrained from saying anything just in case I’m wrong. No matter how much I hate Brandon, I didn’t want to get him into trouble for something he might not have done.
“Bri, you’ve gone quiet. What is it you’re not telling me?”
I let out another sigh, knowing I have no other choice now. We’ve run out of options. “That night at the club, Brandon got all up in my face. Your other boys stepped in before it got out of hand, but he certainly looked like he wanted to hurt me.”
“Jesus, Bri. Why the fuck didn’t you say anything until now?”
“Because I didn’t want you potentially killing someone who had nothing to do with my attack. Also, I know how much he’s relied upon—regardless of whether he’s an arsehole or not.”
Tainted Love Page 6