Saviour

by Andie M. Long

  Contents

  Title page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Part Two

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Part Three

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Part Four

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Dear Reader

  Also by Andie M. Long

  About Andie

  by

  Andie M. Long

  Copyright

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Copyright (c) 2017 by Andrea Long

  All rights reserved.

  Cover by Melissa Gill at MG Book Cover and Designs.

  Dedication

  To anyone who has felt broken.

  You can put the pieces back together with the right support.

  Love yourself.

  Acknowledgements

  So much work goes into a book. The following people help me stay sane and support the journey from first draft to published book.

  After spending forever on rewrites, it goes off to my alpha and beta readers: Susan Bagshaw, Alison Gaskell, Nikki Levy, my sister Maz, Ruth Loizides, and Kim Sutton. Thank you for wanting more and pointing out any inaccuracies.

  Then it’s off to Michelle Dunbar, editor extraordinaire. Your corrections and suggestions are always awesome but my favourite thing is reading your comments in the margin!

  On return and edits made, its a proofread from myself and then my mother Dianne will give it a once over to see what I’ve missed. So thank you mum for your eagle eyes. Then it’s back to me and a final proofread.

  But a book’s not ready without a cover and for this I’d like to thank Melissa at MG Book Cover and Designs for the great cover of Saviour.

  Now I need to thank the people who come after. The members of my review team and hangout, the newsletter subscribers, my fellow authors, bloggers, family and friends. Thank you for all your support.

  Last and most certainly not least, for supporting me through the whole process from start to finish and believing in me - my bestie Nikki “ETM” Levy. Even when her own world is full, she still finds time to be the Evil Task Master and whip me into shape.

  Until the next book.

  Andie xxx

  Part One

  HEAVEN

  A condition or place of great happiness, delight, or pleasure.

  Chapter One

  Eden

  ‘I’ve heard of a potential employment opportunity for you but it’s a bit, well, unusual,’ says my soon to be ex-roommate Kara.

  I carry on packing away my books, using bubble wrap to protect the covers. We’ve recently finished University and have a little over a week to vacate our student digs in Manchester City Centre. I take little notice of Kara’s ideas. They usually comprise of me standing dressed as a banana in the local shopping centre while selling juice.

  ‘Are you listening Eden Stark?’ Kara pelts me with a rolled up sock.

  I wrinkle my nose as I toss it back at her.‘Ew. Is that what you’ve been wearing? Your feet stink.’

  ‘Fuck off. We can’t all be domesticated like you. I didn’t have any clean ones.’

  I stick my tongue out at her. She makes me laugh. She’s all of five foot two, with short, brown, pixie cropped hair, but Christ she can be like a nipping, yappy dog when she puts her mind to it.

  I wipe perspiration from my forehead and sigh as I look at the mess in front of me. These books need to be packed today and there’s only an hour before I start my stint at Johnnys, a rib shack in the city centre. It pays peanuts. The fact remains I’m badly in need of better employment. I should have been saving for a year of backpacking, but thanks to student living and my addiction to nightclubs, my savings plans didn’t come to fruition. I place a hand on the tightness I feel in my chest. What the fuck am I going to do with my life? Is this my lot? Life at the rib shack?

  I turn back to Kara and sigh. ‘Go on, what’s the latest hair-brained scheme?’

  Kara bounces onto the sofa behind me, like an over-excited leprechaun, ‘Well Bridget was saying-’

  An image of a scrawny redhead comes to mind and a couple of drunken evenings spent with her that I regret.

  ‘Bridget? We’re taking note of Bridget now?’

  I’ve known Bridget for years. She used to live near my family and had a thing with my brother when we were younger. I’ve never quite managed to get rid of her. She’d dropped out of Uni when she was offered a job as a nanny, but she still hung round with our crowd.

  ‘Leave her alone, meanie and listen up. The family she works for had a couple of friends round the other night and they asked if she knew anyone who wanted a live-in post. Cooking, cleaning, that sort of thing. They don’t have kids, so not a nanny, kind of a PA.’

  ‘That’s not going to pay much is it?’ I sigh, ‘Although I guess it would give me a roof over my head for a while.’

  ‘Yeah, but that’s not all.’ Kara looks about to burst from the words she’s yet to emit, ‘Bridget’s heard about these two through her get-togethers with the other nannies and live-in domestics and they are quite-the-couple.’

  I raise an eyebrow, ‘Oh yeah? New Posh and Becks of Manchester are they?’

  Kara shakes her head at me. ‘The rumour is they are mega horny and into threesomes and all sorts. Bridget reckons they want to find someone like-minded so they don’t keep having to advertise.’

  I wrap my arms across my chest. ‘I think Bridget is a complete fantasist.’

  ‘Well I got their number for you, anyway. Call them. At the very least, like you say, it’s a roof over your head.’

  I tilt my head towards her. ‘Why, when this was mentioned did you think of me for the job of live-in slut?’

  ‘Come on Eden. We all know you’re a highly sexed individual. Right now you’re trying to cover up your hard pebbled nipples by crossing your arms. Bet you’ve already visualised being in a menage with them.’

  I bite my lip.

  ‘Knew it.’ She slaps the top of my arm.

  ‘Leave me alone. I get cold easily.’

  ‘Yeah, I think you forget I live here. How many orgasms a day do
you actually have?’

  I blush. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Do you not realise how loud you are when you come? I’ve been ignoring it for years. So why not get paid to live out your fantasies instead of seeking satisfaction in that club?’

  ‘Even if this whole unlikely scenario is true, wouldn’t that make me a prostitute?’

  ‘Or could it be a higher than usual wage and a satisfying living arrangement? What have you got to lose by calling?’

  I sit back against the settee. ‘I’ll think about it. For the cleaning and domestic situation and roof over my head.’

  Kara leans over me and slips the paper into the pocket of my jeans. ‘Maybe it’s what you need to explore that side of yourself Eden. You’re better than the drunken one-night stands you seek.’

  Kara leaves the room.

  I take the number out of my pocket and stare at it before I return it. I try not to acknowledge the fact I haven’t thrown it away in disgust.

  Chapter Two

  Eden

  As I stare at the wage slip in my hand, I can see the advantages of seeking new employment.

  ‘Hey Eden,’ yells Rick, as he walks through the bar of Johnnys. ‘Hurry and get your apron on, a pre-theatre crowd has arrived.’

  ‘Yes, Sir.’ I salute him, tie my hair back and run to grab an apron.

  For the next few hours I’m run off my feet as everyone seems to arrive at once to eat. I blame Darryl Black, a former popular soap opera actor who’s appearing in the touring theatre production down the street. The crowd is largely made up of females in the eighteen to forty-five age bracket. They order two for one cocktails and guffaw loudly. Women like this don’t tip well. They save their money for booze in the interval, so serving them is a thankless task.

  By the time I’m visiting the loo for a well earned pee break, my temper has risen to the same levels as the hot skillets in the kitchen.

  So I’m not impressed when on leaving the loos, Rick grabs me around the waist and tries to push me against the adjacent wall.

  ‘Get off me.’ I shove him away.

  ‘Aw, you are hot tonight, rocking that tight tee. Quick let’s go in the ladies.’ Rick grabs my arm.

  ‘You’re joking right? The last thing I need tonight is a quick fuck in a dirty bathroom with my ex-boyfriend.’ I start to walk away.

  ‘But Eden. Wait up.’ He follows me back through the bar.

  I peel off my apron and throw it on the counter, turning to face him. ‘How many times are we going to have this same conversation? You cheated on me. We’re done. Now leave me alone and get over it.’

  ‘I can’t get over it though, that’s the thing.’ Rick runs his hand through his fringe. ‘It was stupid and not worth it. If I could go back in time. She wouldn’t quit pursuing me. I’m so sorry. If there is any way-’

  I hold up my hand. ‘I don’t want to hear your excuses. She might not have quit but I do. Right now.’

  He scoffs. ‘You can’t quit. What are you going to do for money? You’re about to start here full-time so you can make rent someplace.’

  ‘Not anymore. I’m done. Finished. There’s got to be somewhere else. Somewhere you aren’t.’

  I walk out of the restaurant and storm off down the street. I feel in my pocket for the piece of paper. It’s there. I take a deep breath and make a call.

  Within ten minutes I have an interview scheduled for seven pm the following evening. That gives me a day to work out how to make a great impression. Because I need this job. I’m unemployed and the tenancy agreement on my student accommodation is almost up. Frustrated, I punch the wall, annoyed I left it so long to sort out anywhere to stay. I stupidly relied on Kara to find us somewhere, having no idea she’d decide to work as a Holiday Rep for the summer. My fingers smart and as I hold them up I find I’ve knocked the skin off two of my knuckles. Great. Now I’ll seem like a hooligan at my interview. Way to go Eden.

  Back at the apartment I kick a box in temper. Stupid woman. I’m already up against it having no potential home to go to and now I don’t have a job. There’s no way I can face begging Rick for my job back. God, I hope I get this housekeeping job tomorrow. I’m antsy and need a release.

  I go knock on Kara’s door.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘I’m going to Escape/Find later. I need to dance. You coming?’

  ‘Nah. Dave’s coming round.’

  ‘In that case I’m definitely going out. I can do without hearing him howl as he comes.’

  ‘Yeah, but seeing as he’s hung like a donkey, I don’t mind him baying like one.’

  I shake my head at her, laughing, and close her door.

  In my room I hit the sack for a few hours, so I’m fresh for later.

  It’s just after ten. Opening the wardrobe door I seek out my evening wear. There’s a black jersey dress with cutout sides that will do nicely. I remove my current clothing and throw it toward the laundry basket. Then I wriggle into the dress. I’ve put a few pounds on living the life of a student which means my previous stick-thin body now has gentle curves that fill out the dress in all the right places. Next, I discard my pants which are leaving visible lines. I add a pair of fierce looking black stilettos. Grabbing a brush I gather my brunette hair in a high ponytail. After refreshing my make-up I’m good to go. Reaching for my mobile, I call for a taxi. I’m not in the mood to wait for a bus today.

  The taxi driver keeps staring at me through the mirror and asking me inane questions. I wonder what he’d think if I flashed him my breasts and asked him to fuck me in the back of the cab? Maybe another day. Right now I want to dance first.

  Escape/Find is a nightclub with two rooms, joined by a small corridor. Escape has non-stop dance music where you can lose yourself in the beat and that’s where I head when I’m feeling frustrated, like now. Because I’ve arrived late, the club is pumping. Bodies appear to be jumping to the beat. Inebriated couples try to cop off in the middle of the floor. Wrong side idiots, that’s what Find is for. One such couple stand still and kiss. I edge nearer to them and sway my body to the beat, right in front of the man’s still open eyes. He loses focus on the girls mouth. She opens her own eyes, gives me a dirty look and drags him off the floor. I smile to myself. Sometimes it’s too easy. And that right there is the problem. It’s not that I can have any guy I want. I can’t. Sometimes I’m not someones cup of tea. Not very often though. I can’t put my finger on why I’m never satisfied. I always feel there’s something else out there for me. Something more I should do with my life. It's why I want a gap year. The need to experience life. I lust for thrills, exhilaration. I try to find it through sex and always seem to come up short. A short burst of satisfaction that leaves me wanting more.

  The tune changes to a more uptempo beat and I shake my booty and lose myself to the music. Arms snake around me, restrictive like ivy. I turn, shrugging them off. A young bloke smiles at me and turns and grins at his mates. They’re doing something similar with a pair of girls. I shake my head at him and indicate I’m getting a drink. He follows me. I turn to him and shake my head again. The idiot still keeps following. I’m about to lose my shit when another guy gets hold of juniors arm.

  He whispers in his ear and junior walks away. I catch my breath. The man is all dark broodiness. He looks like he’s come straight from work in his suit trousers and grey shirt. Medium brown hair gleams under the lights. His fringe is short, tickling his forehead and a couple of wisps of it are blonder as if the sun came down and kissed it. He nods his head at me and walks away.

  I grab his arm. I can’t let him go. My mouth has gone dry as I stare at his full mouth.

  He looks at me as if I’ve assaulted him.

  Quickly, I withdraw my arm. ‘Sorry. I only wanted to thank you for getting rid of him.’

  His eyes survey me coolly. His gaze peruses my body from top to toe. My nipples harden.

  ‘Yes, well maybe if you didn’t dance like you were fucking the music, it wouldn’t happen.’r />
  I step back. ‘Right. Well -’

  ‘Oh, it was quite enjoyable to watch.’ I see a hint of a smirk. ‘But then you’ll always attract the drunken younger boys so remember that next time. Perhaps you’re more suited to Find.’

  I fold my arms across my chest as his intense gaze has strayed to my pebbled nipples. ‘I don’t like the music in there.’

  ‘Really?’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘It could be you aren’t listening properly.’

  With that he walks out of Escape. He leaves me feeling empty, so I find solace in alcohol.

  Some time later I’m mellow, loose and ready for some fun. Now I head into Find. Find plays slower music. I only ever head into here for one thing. An easy lay. All I do is go to the bar and wait for someone I find attractive to ask me if I’d like a drink. It’s a code I’m well practised with in here. Lather, rinse, repeat. It’s not long before a man approaches me. He looks to be in his early forties at a guess. Hints of grey speckle his short hair. He has nice blue eyes. My own eyes rake over his body. Hmmm it would appear he keeps himself trim. He’ll do nicely. I accept his offer of a drink and he takes my hand, ready to lead me outside where there are several dark spaces a couple can get lost in.

  We head towards the exit. I’m unsteady on my feet by this stage and stare at the floor to make sure I don’t trip. So this time I hear him rather than see him.

  Terse, clipped tones snap, ‘Charlotte. There you are. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.’

  ‘Sorry mate,’ says my grey guy. He almost runs away.

  I glance up confused. Where’s my lay gone? Who’s Charlotte? Mr Cool is looking at me. ‘Sorry. I didn’t know your real name.’

  ‘Eden.’

  He sighs, ‘That figures. Here let me help you get home. You need to sober up.’

  I push him, my eyes flash their fire. ‘What I need.’ My fingers stab him in the chest. ‘What I was getting.’ I huff. ‘Was an orgasm.’