Jack & Kayla (Imperfect Love Series)

by Ruby Molloy

  Boyd looks like he’s ready to explode when his mother’s voice rings out. “Ignore her, Boyd. She’s lying.”

  He immediately calms down, but I’m a little unnerved by how angry he seemed.

  The night hasn’t exactly got off to a great start and it’s a taster of what’s to come. Hailey’s fun. The same age as me, she’s confident and outgoing. I wonder if she’s been a little spoiled, her being the baby of the family. Not that she acts out of line, but I can see she’s a daddy’s girl and Wanda panders to her, topping up her drink, asking if she wants more food.

  Boyd seems to take this in his stride. He and his dad are obviously close and they drift off into their own conversation, leaving me, Hailey and Wanda to talk among ourselves.

  “So, what’s it like dating Jack?” Hailey asks. “Tell me about his gross habits.”

  I haven’t yet discovered anything gross so I settle for, “He’s kind of untidy.”

  Hailey’s obviously disappointed. “Everyone knows that. What about something juicy? Does he scratch his bum or fart in bed?”

  I try to think of something that will satisfy her need for a little dirt on Jack. “He shaves over the sink and forgets to rinse it out afterwards,” I say a little desperately.

  “That’s it? That’s the worst thing you can think of?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Leave her alone, Hailey,” Wanda interrupts. “Sibling rivalry in case you hadn’t guessed, Kayla. I keep hoping they’ll grow out of it, but no such luck.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s Jack’s fault. When I think of all the trouble he’s gotten me into over the years. Did he tell you he almost drowned me when I was fourteen?”

  “Uh, no.” I look over to where Boyd’s talking with his dad, oblivious to our conversation.

  “Well, he did. He and Tag went swimming in the river. I wanted to go too, but mum wouldn’t let me so I snuck out anyway. I followed them all the way there without them noticing and by then it was too late. Jack didn’t want to walk all the way home again so there was nothing he could do. I was swimming in the middle when Boyd decided he was going to impress the girls by ducking his sister. Only my foot got caught up in weeds. If Tag hadn’t dived below and pulled me free I’d have drowned.”

  I raise my brows, shocked. Not by her near-drowning, or by the fact that Tag was the one to save her. There was something there, something vibrant when she mentioned Tag’s name. Like he’s her hero. I deliberately keep his name in the conversation, watching her reaction. “Lucky Tag wasn’t wrapped up in the girls the same way Boyd was.”

  Hailey’s gaze sharpens. “Yeah, wasn’t it?”

  Wanda begins clearing the table before bringing out dessert. I offer to help, but she refuses. Boyd’s the only one who’s not drinking and I feel kind of bad. Maybe I’ll make it up to him later by getting creative under the sheets.

  “What about you, Kayla?” Wanda asks.

  I’ve drifted off while the conversation has carried on around me. “Sorry. Miles away. What did you say?”

  “We were talking about Jack’s job,” Wanda says. “How we never expected him to settle for an office job after the army. Never saw him as a salesman, but at least I don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

  “A salesman?”

  The question is out of my mouth before I catch on that Boyd has tensed at my side.

  Wanda’s smile falters a little. “Yes.”

  “Oh! A salesman!” I say, waving my hand. “I thought you meant something else. My English isn’t always so good. Sometimes I mix up my words. Ask Boyd. He’s always correcting me.”

  Her smile is brighter now, less forced.

  I kick Boyd’s foot while complimenting Wanda on the dessert.

  “It’s quite simple really. Just a few egg whites and sugar. Hailey helped.”

  “Hailey?” Boyd asks in disbelief.

  “Yes, Jack, me. You have a problem with that?”

  “No. But you might want to fish out the eggshell next time.” He points to where a fragment of broken shell is resting on the side of his plate.

  Hailey smiles sweetly. “Wouldn’t want you choking now, would we?”

  It’s like they’re teens and it quickly descends into an all out argument with Boyd telling Hailey to ‘grow the fuck up’. Steve intervenes. “Okay, enough. I’m damn sure Kayla doesn’t want to listen to you two. I know I don’t.”

  I’m waiting for Hailey to say, ‘he started it’. She shoots Boyd a contemptuous look, but he’s no longer paying her any attention. He’s engrossed in my fingers running up and down his thigh. Actually, it’s more up than down.

  When Steve suggests we move to the living room Boyd reluctantly rises to his feet. I tag his shirt on the way out and hold him back. “You told your mum you’re a salesman?” I whisper.

  “Later,” he says, walking from the room.

  “Damn right, later.” I follow behind, giving his lush buttocks a secretive squeeze. Only it’s not so secretive because his dad is coming out of the kitchen and he catches sight of my hands resting on his son’s buttocks. I snatch back my hands. Boyd grins and pulls me in against his side where I hide my face in his t-shirt.

  We settle in front of the TV for a couple of hours. I’m with Boyd, my head resting on his chest, his arm around my shoulders. Occasionally he kisses my temple or pulls me in closer. I know what he’s feeling; sometimes it seems we can never be close enough.

  Hailey is seated on my left, texting. I don’t mean to read her messages, but her screen is close and I catch sight of a text from a guy called Lenox. Something about meeting up tomorrow. I look away quickly, feeling like I’m snooping.

  I’m close to falling asleep when Boyd calls time. His family follow us to the door, wrapping us in hugs as we leave, with calls to visit again soon.

  “I like your family,” I tell Boyd.

  “Even Hailey?”

  “She’s funny.”

  “You think? She wears off after twenty-two years.”

  I know he’s kidding. “You love her really. I bet you’d kill any guy who messed with her.”

  He shoots me a sideways glance. “Maybe.”

  We both know his maybe means definitely.

  “You really think she’s dating a married guy? She doesn’t seem the sort that would get involved with someone like that.”

  “Why else would a guy text ‘The coast is clear’?”

  “I don’t know, but it seems a little unfair to presume she’s dating a married guy from one text.”

  “There’s more. I turned up at hers once. She wouldn’t let me in. Said she wasn’t feeling well, but I could see a pair of men’s trainers in the hall behind her.”

  “Really? Wow, I guess Hailey’s a dark horse, huh?”

  Boyd smirks. “Hailey’s as open as they come. Never could keep a secret. Except this one.”

  He curses and slams on his brakes when a rabbit hops across the road, its cute bunny tail a big ball of fluff.

  “Aww, you saved the bunny.” I lean across the seat and kiss him on the cheek. “You’re my hero.”

  “That’s all it takes? Saving a bun ... Saving a rabbit’s life?”

  “That and being great in bed.”

  Boyd’s grin is proud and boastful. “Then be prepared to worship your hero, babe, just as soon as we get home.”

  *****

  I’m not sure I’m suited to hero-worship, but I sure got lucky last night. Twice. It’s ridiculous that I’m blushing, but Boyd’s enthusiasm and stamina is still fresh in my mind.

  I’m kind of tidying the apartment. I say kind of because I’m not exactly putting much effort into it. I guess last night sapped my energy levels. I neaten Boyd’s stack of books on the coffee table and clear up the crumbs from his pizza the other night. Boyd’s blind to the mess he makes. I find a sock under one of the cushions and there’s an empty beer bottle half-hidden on the floor. I stoop to pick it up. That’s when I notice the phone cable’s unplugged. I reach down to plug i
t back in and go add Boyd’s beer bottle to the recycling bin. Only, it’s not that simple. The recycling bin is full. Of course.

  Boyd can empty it when he gets back from the gym. He’s lifting weights with Tag and Mason, like he doesn’t have enough muscle already.

  I text Frankie to complain about Boyd’s messiness. She responds with a photo of Mason’s clothes in a pile on their bedroom floor. Guess I’m not the only one suffering.

  Come mid-morning, I’m hungry. I fix myself a smoothie and carry it through to the bedroom where the bed sheets need changing. After stripping the old sheets, I wrestle the clean duvet cover in place, my head and most of my upper body entombed as I line up the corners. When I’m done and I’ve smoothed my hair away from my face, I look down at the freshly made bed. The bedding is white, patterned with pastel butterflies in blues, pinks and washed out greens. God knows what I was thinking when I bought it, but this is definitely full-on girly. Boyd’s going to have a fit when he sees it, but until the old bedding’s washed and dried there’s not much I can do.

  I’ve just loaded the washing machine and rinsed out the blender when the house phone starts ringing. I pick up the handset and walk to the fridge. Even though she hasn’t phoned in a while I just know it’s going to be Molly. I take out a soda from the fridge and pull the tab.

  “Kayla?”

  “Yeah. How’s it going, Molly?”

  The phone is gripped between my ear and shoulder and I’m mostly concentrating on sipping my soda.

  “Is Jack there?”

  “No, he’s at the gym. Can I help?” I don’t know why I bother to ask.

  “I, uh, I just wanted to check you’re okay, that’s all.”

  Now I’m confused. Molly barely speaks to me. Why would she be concerned whether I’m okay or not? “Uh, yeah, I’m okay.”

  She leaves a dramatic pause before she continues. “He hasn’t told you then?”

  I lower my soda and lean against the worktop. “Told me what?”

  It’s weird how you can pick up on bad vibes over the phone. I’m not sure if it’s her tone or her perfectly timed pauses that alert me to what’s coming.

  “I’m sorry, Kayla, you’re a good person and you really don’t deserve this.”

  “Deserve what, Molly?” My voice carries no emotion. It’s bottled up inside, ready, waiting.

  Another pause before she says, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have phoned. You should speak to Jack.”

  “Molly, you can’t say something like that and then hang up. What’s going on?”

  “I’m sorry. I only called because Jack said he was going tell you this morning and I hadn’t heard anything ...”

  “For God’s sake just tell me.”

  “It’s Jack and me ... We’ve been having an affair. It started months ago, before the two of you got together. We’re in love.”

  She sounds happy, ecstatically so. I laugh, only it’s not a pretty sound. It’s harsh and half-crazy and it takes me a few seconds to remember to breathe.

  “I’m sorry, Kayla. Jack and I ... well, we both felt it was time to tell you. Like I said, it’s been going on for a while. I know how much he means to you and we shouldn’t have treated you this way. I’m sorry. You deserve better.”

  “It’s been going on for a while?” Of course it has. All those phone calls from Molly, Boyd always leaving to go and see her.

  What did you think was going on, Kayla? You thought he was reassuring her, helping her get over Harry? You dumb idiot.

  “It started before he brought you here to meet me. Kind of weird, huh, him introducing his lover to his girlfriend? Guess he got a kick out of it or something. I’m really sorry, Kayla, and I hate doing this to you, but it’s best you know.”

  There’s a ball of pressure in my stomach that’s moving up towards my chest. I think I’m going to vomit.

  “Fuck you, Molly!” I pitch the phone across the room, watching as it shatters against the floor, black shards of plastic spinning and skittering into the corners.

  All this time ...

  Molly and Boyd ...

  How could he do that? How could he sleep with her? How could he betray me?

  “Bastardo!” I snatch up Boyd’s coffee maker, screaming as I hurl it to the floor. Glass and coffee granules scatter everywhere.

  “Mierda!” I grab at a dining chair and lift it high, bringing it down on the dining table.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Glass fragments rain down on the floor.

  I move onto his books, the ones I so carefully neatened earlier, and throw them toward the broken glass, watching their pages unfurl as they sail through the air.

  I spin round, searching for the next item to unleash my temper upon. My gaze settles on Boyd’s ugly black sofas. I run to the kitchen and retrieve a knife from the rack. I have a moment’s doubt, but it’s gone in a flash. I plunge the knife into the cushion and pull towards me, slicing through the leather. Anger urges me on and I slash the cushions repeatedly until foam bleeds through and the sofas are destroyed. Chest heaving, face wet with tears, I throw the knife to the floor.

  Finished, in every sense of the word, I grab my keys and leave, but it seems fate wants me to suffer a little longer.

  Boyd exits the elevator with Mason and Tag in tow. He holds out an arm to slow me down. “Hey, Boots, where are you going?”

  I don’t answer. I don’t even look at him. I walk right on by, or at least I try to, but he snags my wrist and pulls me to a stop. I lash out instinctively, landing a blow to his jaw. He seizes both wrists, and I kick out, making contact with his shin. He curses and pins me against the wall, eyes furious, face in mine when he says, “What the fuck, Kayla!”

  I scream in his face. “Fuck you, Boyd!”

  He rears back, eyes scanning my face. “Jesus, what the hell’s going on? I go to the gym for a couple of hours and you turn into a fucking psycho?” He draws back, eyes hard as they examine my face.

  “Uh, Boyd,” Mason calls from behind. “You might wanna take a look at this.” He’s standing in the open door to Boyd’s apartment, gazing in on my trail of destruction.

  Boyd tows me down the corridor and when I refuse to walk he lifts me off my feet, carrying me inside, going still when he takes in the damage.

  “Jesus Christ.” He drops me to my feet, pinning my wrists together in one hand, his green eyes deadly. “What the fuck, Kayla?”

  I reel off a list of expletives in Spanish, struggling to get free, wishing I could hit him some more. Out of patience, Boyd walks me back until my shoulders hit the living room wall.

  He scowls, searching for an answer. “Why’d you do this?”

  I thrust out my chin and remain silent. He might have me cornered, but there’s nothing he can say that will make me repeat Molly’s words. Nothing. I clamp my mouth shut while Boyd stares. “Tag,” he says, eyes still on me. “You mind holding Kayla for a second?”

  I turn my head to glare at Tag. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you bloody dare!”

  Tag dares. He takes hold of my wrists and I think about lashing out, but this is Tag and he’s done me no wrong.

  Boyd walks through the apartment, stooping to pick up the knife. He lays it on the kitchen worktop, pausing when he sees the phone smashed to pieces on the floor. His gaze lifts to mine and maybe I flinch because something flashes in his eyes as he walks over to the phone socket and checks the cable.

  “Who called?” he asks.

  I don’t say a word.

  He pulls me away from Tag and yells, “WHO-THE-FUCK-CALLED, KAYLA?”

  His face is in mine and try as I might, I can’t resist looking into his lying, cheating eyes.

  “Was it Molly?”

  I react without thinking, lashing out with my free hand, hitting him across the cheek with my open palm. Tag curses beneath his breath and Mason watches on closely.

  Boyd leans in slowly, his nose touching mine. “Hit me again and you’ll pay. Understand?”

&
nbsp; I glare back, silent.

  “Now I’m gonna ask one more time. Was it Molly?”

  I nod.

  His eyes narrow and he shifts his feet wide. “What did she say?”

  I remain stubbornly silent. No way am I telling him.

  “ANSWER ME!”

  “Fuck you, Boyd!” I fight, curse and kick, employing every trick I know to get free. It’s useless.

  What did I expect? That I could out manoeuvre Boyd?

  “Are you done?”

  I glare at him, wishing he was dead. Only that’s not true. God, that’s not what I want. I only want this pain to go away. I want out of here, I want to be some place where I never have to lay eyes on him again.

  Boyd retrieves his phone from his pocket and dials a number. I swing for the phone, but he twists his torso away and holds me steady. “Cut it out, Kayla.”

  “Do not call her! Do not fucking call her!”

  He gestures for me to be silent.

  “Hey Molly. How are you?”

  I can’t bear this, him talking to her, me having to listen. This is too much.

  “Jack?” The call’s on speaker phone. Molly seems excited to hear from him. Maybe a little nervous too.

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh my God, Jack! I’ve been waiting for you to call. Tag said you couldn’t talk to me anymore, but I knew you would. I just knew!”

  “Molly, I need to ask you something.”

  “Okay. Sure. You can ask me anything.”

  “Did you speak with Kayla today?”

  She’s silent for a while and when she eventually speaks she sounds flustered. “You blocked me on your mobile. I knew it had to be a mistake so I’ve been calling your house phone, hoping you’d pick up.”

  “Tell me what you said to Kayla.”

  “Why? What’s she been saying? I didn’t say anything, Jack. Don’t listen to her.”

  “Come on, Molly. I know you said something.” His gaze sharpens on mine and he crowds me in against the wall, staring at me when he says softly, “You know you can tell me anything, Moll. I’ll never judge you. Never.”

  “I don’t want you to be angry with me.” She’s devious, switching her tone so it’s more childlike and innocent.