Bad Guys

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Bad Guys Page 2

by Sarah Michelle Lynch


  His eyes narrow and he shakes his head, his ear on fire. “Why on earth would you say that?”

  I smile as though I’m unaffected by his typical, male response – that no woman who looks like Susan could ever be dodgy.

  “My friend who dated Adam? The one I mentioned a moment ago?”

  “Yes… Chloe?” he says, having remembered her name.

  “Susan threatened to kill her if she ever went near Adam, ever again. Bearing in mind, it’d been five or six years since the two of them…”

  Robert chuckles, like Susan couldn’t have meant it. “A bit of banter, maybe.”

  “Maybe. Or perhaps I know a psycho when I see one.”

  I glare at Susan over my shoulder and Robert watches as she glares right back. I look up into his eyes and warn, “Watch her. She hates my guts because I’m associated with Chloe.”

  “So why did you get an invite?” he asks, the right side of his mouth curved in a partial grin.

  “I don’t know, Adam likes me, I suppose. Plus, she imagines that with Chloe out of the country, if she invites me to the wedding, I’ll report back to Chloe and make her all jealous and that. Not that Chloe has ever been jealous of anyone her whole life. That’s not who she is. She does exactly what she wants and she’s got a surfer boyfriend now. She couldn’t care less.”

  Robert stuns me when he takes one of my hands from the back of his neck and holds my fingers inside his, right against his chest. His fingers are soft and warm and long. He’s utterly scrumptious and I have never thought that about a man… ever.

  “Perhaps Susan is just jealous… if your best friend is anything like you, she must be a beauty.”

  I realise the song has changed, but not in style, it’s another love song… slightly different. One is blurring into the other.

  “Chloe’s not like me,” I whisper against his throat, “she’s outgoing and wild. I’m sweet and tender. Nobody can compete with Chloe. Men love her.”

  Robert shakes his head. “There are women we want, then women we love. I think Susan feels insecure because she doesn’t understand what went on between Chloe and Adam. He never told us what went on, so I doubt he’ll have told Susan either.”

  “True,” I agree, enjoying it when he rubs his thumb across the back of my hand. “A secret Susan can’t get to, perhaps.”

  “Exactly. Something between two friends.”

  “Perhaps,” I agree, “but I know a psycho when I meet one.”

  “How?” he asks, with a throaty chuckle. “I’m a doctor, after all. A student of the human body and mind.”

  “What am I to call you? Dr…?”

  “Dr Shah,” he says, “or Robert, or Robbie. My closest friends call me Robbie or Rob, either suits me fine.”

  “Robbie,” I murmur, and we brush unexpectedly close when another couple knocks us, and I swear as our bodies touch… I feel an erection.

  I flush bright red and he looks away, biting his bottom lip like he’s trying to control himself or pretend that didn’t happen.

  I look away too, also horrified and a little bit intrigued. Once I feel his anguish has passed, I go back to what we were just talking about.

  “It’s the way she can change, just like that,” I tell him, snapping my fingers. “I’m an observer, y’see. I’ve watched it happen. She switches from nice as pie to psycho within a heartbeat. Ask Adam later if he’s had any stress in the run-up to the wedding. That guy is ready to pop and come down off a mega truckload of stress, let me tell you. I’ve known Adam for almost twenty years. We were at primary together with Lily, my other longstanding friend. He’s as cool as a cucumber, he’s the most laidback guy out there… she’s changed him. He’s not relaxed all day. See the way he’s clicking his fingers… he can’t stop. He can’t sit down and he’s had a drink to hand every time I’ve looked over. He’s buried it all deep down, though. Look at him. It’s all gonna come out sooner or later. She has him wound so tight.”

  “God,” he says, stroking his finger down my arm, “I think you must be the type of woman men drown inside and never escape.”

  “Why?” I laugh.

  “I don’t know, the way you speak… like you’re an old soul. Viewing it all from an old soul’s perspective.”

  I sigh and stroke his lapel, resting my cheek against him again. This time I hold his shoulders and he wraps his arms tight around me, as though in an embrace. I feel him sniff my hair, too.

  And now I definitely know it’s an erection. And it’s big.

  “It won’t last,” I whisper, so only he can hear me, “I hate to be right, but I always am.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “He’s too laidback and it will seem to her he’s indifferent, meanwhile she’s massively insecure. She has something she’s hiding but doesn’t want anyone to know about, even Adam.”

  “And you got this from watching them a few times?”

  I smile to myself. “I got this from yeah, watching them a few times, and from what Chloe told me. The bitch threatened to kill Chloe, honest to god. Chloe is a lawyer, she knows this type of people. Susan wasn’t kidding. She even said she’d get a person off the dark web to do it.”

  “And your friend, Chloe didn’t go to the police?”

  “She’s the same as me, hoping Adam might see sense one day and the woman will be out of his life. We can but hope.”

  He pulls back slightly and eyes me with some new look. “So jaded for one so young.”

  “And how young are you?”

  “Thirty-two,” he grins.

  I pinch my bottom lip between my teeth and his eyes zero in on my mouth.

  I flush bright red, I can’t help it. I’ve always wanted an older man. Someone who might take care of me… someone who knows what they’re doing.

  He already knows how old I am because I’m Adam’s friend – a very tender twenty-five.

  “What do you do?” he asks, his cheeks still red and glowing.

  “I’m in branding. Actually, I’m a brand manager for an agency. We work with different clients. Recently I did something for a big kitchen company. But we’re not allowed to say. In case our competition finds out it was us.”

  “Ah, you live in London,” he says.

  “Yes, why, don’t you?”

  “I’m based in Leeds. Swore I’d never leave. My parents only have me to look after them, you see.”

  “That’s funny, I couldn’t wait to escape.”

  The music changes to something more like dance music and Robert takes my elbow in his palm, walking me to the bar. He orders a bottle of champagne and we sit on two stools, alone, nobody else near us. He pours me a drink and I watch with fascination as he arranges his suit jacket.

  “Tell me about you,” he asks, his hand on the bar near mine.

  “Aside from my job?” I quirk a brow.

  “Yes, everything,” he asks, eager to know more.

  “Well, my parents are Russian so I understand your immigrant heritage a little, although neither of my parents have integrated, they are still extremely Russian and think life is wrong unless it’s very, very hard.”

  He nods quickly. “My father is a little like that.”

  “I’m the youngest of six,” I confess, and his eyes blaze with surprise. “I know, you’d think I was the oldest, but no. The youngest. They wanted me to stay home after I finished university. They wanted me to stick around. But all the others have gone. Two of my sisters are in America. My brother Leo lives in Australia with his wife. He’s a doctor, too… cardiothoracic.”

  “Same as me!” he booms.

  “YES! You’d get on well. He’s…” I stop myself, wondering what the hell I’m doing. You’d get on well… I’m getting way ahead of myself, allowing myself to get excited. “He’s expecting twins very soon and his wife will be glad when they’re out. My other brother Stefan is living in Scotland where he’s a police officer. And my twin sister, Sasha is dead. She died when we were three. I don’t talk about it.�
��

  And yet here I am, telling this stranger… things nobody else even knows about. Maybe it’s because Robert’s a doctor… or maybe it’s because I need to talk about it, finally.

  I never even told Chloe about Sasha. Nobody knows. I suppose I’ve always treated it like it never happened to me because I was so young and barely remember it.

  “I’m so sorry,” he says, taking my hand. “What happened?”

  “Mum was fighting a losing battle with her on the street one day. Sasha had really bad temper tantrums. I was the opposite apparently. She was older than me by a few minutes but Mum always said she acted the younger. Sasha ran right into a passing car. She died instantly. She never would have felt anything.”

  “That must have been awful.”

  “It was,” I admit. “We weren’t identical, but it was absolutely horrible. I remember my mother crying endlessly, especially when she didn’t think we were in the room. My father never cried once. He sat in his chair and scratched his head, wondering how something like that could happen. They split up a couple of times but always got back together. I know that trauma bonds people… it bonded them even more. And they were already bonded by the trauma of moving here.”

  “I bet,” he agrees, pouring more champagne.

  “And now I’ve left them, gone to live in London… and all the kids have flown the coop… they hate me most, because I was meant to stay behind. I’m the one who doesn’t get birthday cards or Christmas presents anymore. And you’d think that losing one daughter would have informed them to take care of the other, even in spite of my choice, but no. They think I should’ve stayed behind. And so, I find myself looking at you and wondering… why? I mean, why? Why wouldn’t you want to spread your wings and explore a bit more of the world?”

  He tightens his fingers around mine. “Maybe I like to make life a little harder on myself. Maybe I’m not like you.”

  “Not like me?” I warn, narrowing my eyes.

  “Stronger than diamond,” he says, “to have survived and overcome all you have, and to still be thriving. It must have taken a lot of mental strength and utter willpower to do what you do.”

  I can’t stop myself grinning. “You don’t know my friend, Chloe,” I say, smiling wide, “she carried me up with her. We clung together. But you’re right, it took a lot for me to go my own way. But why should I be the one to stay home and be punished? Why do my parents think all their kids moved away, huh? I didn’t get so disciplined from being rewarded in sweets, let me tell you. If any of us ever put a foot out of place, we’d know about it.”

  He looks sad about that and averts his eyes from mine. “Well, my parents couldn’t be more loving. Hence the difference in our decision-making process, I guess.”

  “You’re lucky,” I tell him. “Half of my friends’ parents are lunatics. As are mine.”

  He bursts out laughing and I look across the room to where Susan’s father Boris is. “I mean, that man is like a barrel… pop a siphon in him and you could drain him of a few litres!”

  Robert laughs and places his hand gently on my knee. I turn and scowl, but he doesn’t move it. Instead, he pleads, “I don’t normally do this, but what do think about coming up to my room tonight? We don’t have to do anything. We could just talk.”

  I stare him in the eye. “And you don’t have a girlfriend?” How could a man like this not? Look at him. He’s perfect.

  He looks away when he’s trying to formulate his answer. “It’s not like this with her, like it is with us… easy conversation… I don’t have that connection with her.”

  I stand beside him with my arm around his shoulder.

  “Look at them all,” I tell him, encouraging him to take a good, long look at the wedding party on the dance floor and the outliers getting progressively more drunk and emotional. “None of that is for me. All that larking… that nonsense. I live in the now. And if that means I have to be alone, then so be it, I’d rather this than that… than lies and deceit and being ridiculous just to get through the daily grind. I’d rather be a bitch and be aloof than be false. That’s just who I am.”

  He has his eyes closed and his head bowed when I reach over him for the champagne bottle.

  “It was really, really nice talking to you, Robert.”

  I take the bottle in my fist and leave him where he is.

  I’ve known and felt too much pain in my life to want more.

  If he wants me, he’ll come and find me.

  And he’ll be single when he does.

  Chapter Two

  The next day, it’s my plan to get out of this hotel without being seen but somehow, I feel that’s not going to happen. I’m checking out at the very last minute and still, there are guests from the wedding hanging around like a bad penny, either in the sitting area or by the restaurant, chin-wagging by the looks of things – reflecting on yesterday and how much of a beautiful bride Susan was.

  Bless…

  I hand over my room card and cough up for the room-service breakfast I had this morning.

  “Was everything okay with your stay?” the receptionist asks.

  “Well, that’s debatable,” I tell her, “but don’t worry, it’s nothing any of you did.”

  I leave her puzzled while I walk away chuckling.

  My overnight Chanel bag on my shoulder, I see Adam by the door dressed in stonewash denim and a crisp white shirt. Man, Susan has done wonders for his wardrobe.

  “Hey, Sass,” he beams, “you look well this morning, better than I feel.”

  I chuckle with a hint of sarcasm and hug him with one arm.

  “I got in a swim this morning and a massage. This place isn’t too shabby.”

  “Wow,” he exclaims, “you’re all grown-up and stuff, aren’t you?”

  “More than you’ll ever know,” I tell him with a wink.

  He laughs and folds his arms. “My cousin was looking out for you at breakfast this morning.”

  “I opted for room service. Simpler.”

  He eyes me cautiously. “He wanted me to see if you’d be okay with me giving him your number.”

  “Abso-fucking-not.”

  Adam grins, trying hard not to laugh. “I said that to him, which is why he gave me his to give to you.”

  Ah, so this is why Adam’s hanging out right by the door despite being severely hungover and shattered. Unless he really does feel a duty to wave off all his guests.

  He pulls a bit of scrap paper out of his pocket and hands it over. The man doesn’t even have a business card. I guess heart surgeons pretty much don’t need to advertise themselves.

  I shake my head and Adam raises one eyebrow. “I know, but he’s been going through a bad patch with his missus. You don’t know. He could be the one for you.”

  Adam waits for me to say something else but I can’t think of anything to say which wouldn’t get back to Robert somehow. I stuff the paper in my jeans pocket and wink at Adam.

  “Have a great honeymoon, Ads.”

  “Thanks, Sass. Thanks for coming, you know?”

  “My pleasure, my pleasure…” It’ll all be relayed to Chloe soon enough. I’m already conjuring the email in my head as we speak. Except for the part where I met Robert. “Say, did you see if Lily went home last night like she was saying?”

  “I didn’t see,” he says, shaking his head. “Paul left early this morning with his mum. I didn’t see Lily.”

  We both share a look. No matter what I once thought of Adam for treating my Chloe like he did, he does recognise that Paul’s treatment of women is entirely wrong – and I have a horrible feeling that one of these days, Lily is going to get the brunt of it.

  “See ya, then,” he says, waving after me as I leave the building and head for my VW Golf.

  I jump in the car, turn the sound up and sprint away. Time to chew up some motorway in this beast.

  I get back to my flat in Kensington, throw my stuff on the floor and groan at the top of my lungs. For god’s sake. I can’t
get that guy out of my head. If only I could conveniently wash my jeans and ruin his telephone number at the same time – but when I stopped off at a service station earlier, I put it in my phone while I was waiting for my Big Mac. Now his number has gone from burning a hole in my jeans to burning a hole in my phone!

  “Ya alright, Sass?” My flatmate Kellie comes to my doorway in her latest bizarre outfit – a pink trouser suit with a huge flower erected on the lapel. She’s a club promoter and probably has to work tonight… or else she’s going to a flower power convention. I don’t know who’s insane enough to cut her hair like that but she has a fringe in the shape of a crescent moon and the rest of her hair is uneven in length, plus it is of course, dyed neon orange. I guess people never fail to recognise her and she does stand out.

  “Just tired. Weddings are so futile and yet so exhausting.”

  “Aww, still a closet romantic, are ya? No wonder you find it so tiring.”

  She doesn’t wait for my answer and turns on her toes quick-smart, hopping back to her room.

  I really love Chloe but I also really hate that she’s in Australia and I’ve had to sublet her room a few times now. People eventually get tired of me and I eventually throw them out. What am I supposed to do? Provide entertainment as well as a bedroom? Good luck finding that from me.

  I see a flash of colour pass by my door and then she grabs her keys from the sideboard. “See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya.” She slams the door behind her and that’s it, I’m home alone. She can’t stand to be in my presence and leaves as soon as I’m back.

  Wonderful.

  Oh well, I suppose when she moves on, I could get myself a tidy one-bed somewhere, maybe something a little nicer. I’m earning more now and can afford to step up my living arrangements.

  Somehow, I realise I’m clinging to this place. It’s where Chloe and I first lived when we arrived in London and I have such memories here. This side of Kensington isn’t as nice as the other but it’s not pretending to be anything it isn’t and the rent is half the price of somewhere nearer the Natural History Museum, let’s say.

 

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