by Jade Winters
‘My nan always used to say to me growing up, “When in doubt, do nowt”, and it’s true. It’s your instinct giving you a warning. Maybe you should listen to it.’
‘But what if you have to do it?’
Skye noted Morgan’s troubled eyes. To see such a confident woman on edge was unnerving.
‘You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, except pay your taxes, of course,’ Skye said with a short laugh. ‘I truly believe we are in charge of our own destinies. We only have ourselves to blame if we take the wrong path.’
Something flickered across Morgan’s eyes, and then it was gone. ‘Are you talking from experience?’
‘Yes, I suppose I am,’ Skye said, feeling as if her inner voice was trying to talk some sense to her and not Morgan.
‘By the sound of things, you don’t follow your own advice.’
Skye shrugged. ‘I didn’t in the past, but I think I’m waking up now.’
She smiled, letting the hope she’d been holding in her heart shine through.
‘Good. I’m glad to hear it. Looks like we can learn a thing or two from each other.’
Hearing the resignation in Morgan’s voice, Skye couldn’t help but wonder what was troubling her. Was it something to do with work? Family? There was no point in her speculating. If Morgan wanted to get something off her chest, she would, and Skye would be there for her.
***
They walked towards the park’s entrance. Heaven’s Gate, after which the park was named, was an elaborate metal gate, ten feet tall, with carved pillars on either side. Some architect had had illusions of grandeur for this town, Skye thought, as she and Morgan walked leisurely back to her car.
‘I’m starving. I just realised I haven’t eaten all day. Shall we grab something to eat? That Indian you mentioned sounds right up my street.’
‘You’re gonna love it,’ Skye said warmly as they got into the car.
She directed Morgan to a quaint Indian restaurant in the middle of town that was run by a family who had come from Mumbai to make a better life for their children. Skye had been there enough times to know the food was excellent, the owners were friendly, and she could relax and enjoy this unexpected evening with Morgan.
They chose a booth in the back corner. Skye set her mobile phone on the table as Morgan scanned the menu. She liked the way Morgan’s hair fell across her face and the way she pursed her lips as she looked over the items on offer; it made her feel happy for the first time since … well, she couldn’t remember when she had last felt truly happy. She still couldn’t believe she was here with her. Not in her wildest dreams had she imagined that one day, she would be sitting in the Maj Thali with Morgan.
‘This menu is making my mouth water,’ Morgan said, looking up at her.
And the sight of you is making mine water.
‘Do you come here often?’
‘When I can afford it,’ Skye answered truthfully.
Her phone rang and the screen glowed with the word ‘Dad’ in a sizable font, causing Skye to hurriedly snatch the phone off the table. The usual panic rose within. What trouble is he in now?
‘I’ve got to take this,’ she said, clutching her phone to hide the screen from Morgan’s view.
As she edged out of her seat, she noticed the look of confusion on Morgan’s face. She realised her rush to answer her phone was a bit suspicious, but there was no time to explain.
‘Hello?’ she answered, making her way outside onto the pavement.
‘Skye, where are you?’ Oliver asked, his words slurring. Calls like these were a regular occurrence when her father was high. He got high then felt terribly alone and needed someone to babysit him.
‘I’m out trying to have a good time,’ she said with exasperation, not wanting her response to sound harsh, but she couldn’t help it. She was still pissed off with him for pulling her strings like she was some sort of puppet.
‘I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up for me.’
‘Skye, I need you.’
‘Is there an emergency, or is this just another bet with your mate?’
Silence, which meant only one thing: he was after something—money. He didn’t care where she was or what she was doing. His only concern was how to score more drugs. They meant more to him than Skye did. As long as he took them, she would always be a soft target to get to the next high. She now understood why her mother had left, and she didn’t blame her.
‘I need money.’ When Skye didn’t answer, he said, sounding plaintive, ‘Skye, I promise I’ll get help. Just see me through for a couple of days. No more than that.’
Skye’s voice was firm. ‘No. I told you: no more handouts. I was serious about what I said today.’
Skye shook her head in annoyance as she disconnected the call and headed back inside to her seat.
‘Sorry,’ Skye said as she shimmied back into the booth.
‘I couldn’t help noticing your caller ID said Dad,’ Morgan said curiously. ‘I didn’t know the afterlife had reception.’
Skye laughed nervously while attempting to concoct yet another story to cover up the existence of her drug-addict father.
‘It’s actually my stepdad,’ she said. ‘I started calling him Dad, you know, since my real dad passed away.’
‘Oh, you never said your mum remarried,’ Morgan said, evidently buying Skye’s story. ‘It must have been tough for you, losing a loved one so young.’
Skye nodded, trying to make her face reflect a calmness she didn’t feel.
‘So have you decided what you want yet?’ Skye asked, desperate to change the subject.
‘I think so.’
The next few hours flew by as the conversation flowed between them. Thankfully, they stayed away from family talk. Skye hated lying to Morgan, but she had concocted such a huge lie that Morgan would hate her if she learnt the truth. Only when the lights dimmed did the pair realise their night must come to an end.
Skye had asked Morgan to drop her at work, using the excuse of having to fill in some paperwork. She couldn’t risk Morgan knowing where she lived in case her dad was lurking around.
Imagine if he opened the door. Skye feared Morgan would be gone in a flash.
‘I really enjoyed myself,’ Morgan said as they sat inside her car outside Peppermills. Though it was freezing outside, Skye would have sworn the temperature inside the car was at least thirty degrees, and that was without the heating on.
‘Me too,’ Skye replied with staid calmness.
‘So I’ll see you tomorrow?’ Morgan asked casually.
Her heart fluttered in her breast.
‘Definitely.’ Skye paused. ‘I’m really glad you came to visit.’
‘So am I.’ Her smile flashed teasingly in the light of an oncoming car.
Morgan’s knee rested only inches away from hers. If Skye moved, even slightly, they would touch. Could I be that blatant?
She wanted to touch Morgan more than anything in the world. When her eyes dropped to Morgan’s mouth, Skye gripped the edge of her seat to control the explosions firing throughout her body, her senses spinning. She couldn’t draw her eyes away from her lips.
The car, which had seemed spacious before, felt tiny as their bodies somehow gravitated toward each other until their faces were inches apart. Morgan’s nearness was intoxicating. Unable to stop herself, Skye threaded her fingers through Morgan’s hair and then drew a line along her jaw with her index finger. Her skin was as smooth as it looked and so very soft. As she stared at Morgan, contemplating her next move, Morgan took her hand, turned it over and trailed open-mouth kisses along it before moving her mouth to Skye’s ear, her breath warm against her skin.
‘Do you know what you’re doing to me?’ Morgan whispered hoarsely. The tip of her tongue encircled Skye’s ear.
Oh good Lord. Skye attempted to hold in her gasp, but failed. She willed the thunderous beat of her heart against her chest to slow. It would be awful if I had a heart attack right now.
<
br /> She wanted to feel Morgan’s lips against hers so desperately she was sure she had said the words out loud.
Drawing her head back, Morgan slipped her arm behind Skye’s neck and pulled her closer. Without breaking their gaze, she inched nearer until their lips collided like waves crashing against rocks. Morgan dipped her tongue into the seam of Skye’s lips. The gentle probing of her warm velvet tongue sent spirals of ecstasy through her.
Morgan pulled away. They stared at each other, and through half-opened eyes, Skye took in Morgan’s swollen lips, the flush in her cheeks, and the strong desire in her eyes. She was bewildered by her decision to stop.
‘It’s best you go before I kidnap you and take you back to my hotel,’ Morgan said breathlessly.
‘Would that be a bad thing?’
Skye’s breath was coming fast as she reached for her again, but Morgan backed away, her expression apologetic.
‘Yes, I don’t want to be responsible for you not being there for your aunt if anything goes wrong.’
‘My…?’ Skye closed her eyes and wanted to kick herself—hard.
Damn me and my lies.
‘I could always get someone to go over and sit with her.’
Morgan shook her head. ‘As much as I’d like that, I couldn’t ask you to get someone out of their bed just so we could …’
She glanced down at Skye’s exposed chest area and let the words trail off, the meaning clear.
Skye dropped her head back against the headrest.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘I’m here for a week.’ Morgan traced the tip of her finger along Skye’s thigh. ‘We’ve got plenty of time.’
There was no point in trying to talk Morgan around and she had only one person to blame for her predicament: herself. Skye had been dishonest. Well, it’s too late to beat yourself up about it now. It is what it is. How the hell was I supposed to know things would turn out like this?
‘Tomorrow it is then.’ Skye leant over and planted a quick, soft kiss on Morgan’s mouth before exiting the car.
She glanced down at her watch. It would be twelve whole hours before she’d see Morgan again, she needed to see her face one more time, but it was too late. Morgan’s car was pulling away from the kerb.
She put her hand to her face and smelt Morgan’s perfume. That would have to do—for now. Like Morgan had said, they had all week. A small voice in the back of her mind piped up, But what happens after that?
Chapter Twenty-One
Morgan was bone tired, but instead of falling asleep, she found herself replaying the feeling of Skye’s lips pressed against her own. No woman had ever aroused her so quickly, and with nothing more than a kiss. The intense desire she had experienced had to have been in her imagination. Lack of sleep was known to be detrimental to the mind. That was the only explanation for her leading Skye to believe there would be more to come. The purpose of her visit to Marlborough was to gather her thoughts, not to add to her confusion. Trust you to go and get yourself involved in something you can’t handle.
Morgan turned over and stretched a hand out to the empty side of the bed. The place where Skye could be laying right now.
It was stupid of Morgan to have kissed her in the first place, but the unexpected caress of Skye’s touch had mesmerised her. Had she been thinking straight, she would have put an end to it there and then. Who are you fooling? As if you had the strength to do anything else. Skye addles your brain.
Morgan was only grateful that she hadn’t brought Skye back to the hotel. Now that would have been a big mistake. How could she play host as a lover on one hand and be a potential murderer on the other? Those two people couldn’t coexist inside one body.
She squeezed her eyes closed, pushing Skye out of her mind—only to have Thomas replace her. She saw him standing in her office, breathing the same air as her. How dare he show his face? Her facial muscles twisted into a grimace as she pushed herself into a sitting position.
Great. Now there’s no way I’m going to sleep. She clamoured out of bed and turned on the bedside lamp. Crossing the room, she flipped the switch on the kettle, hoping a cup of chamomile tea could ease her nerves.
Hot cup in hand, Morgan curled her feet beneath her on the small sofa by the window. Her face reflected off the glass. She looked pale, drawn and tired.
If this was how she appeared now, she dreaded to think how much worse she’d look if she went through with her plan to be rid of Thomas. Could she really live with the consequences?
This is going to drive me up the wall. She was normally decisive, but for the life of her, she couldn’t explain why she was dithering on this matter. I have to make a decision tonight. This can’t go on or I’ll go insane.
She reached for the pen and pad on the coffee table in front of her, and drawing a line down the middle, she wrote ‘pros’ and ‘cons’ at the top of each column.
Under ‘pro’, she wrote:
Satisfaction he’s dead.
Revenge.
Peace of mind knowing he can’t hurt anyone else.
Closure!!!
Under ‘con’, she wrote:
Prison time!!!
Me sitting in a 6x8 cell for 23hrs a day if I get caught.
Regret that I was responsible for someone else’s death?
His death won’t bring Mum or Chloe back.
Adrian would lose another sister.
Skye finding out!
At the thought of Skye discovering her plan, her throat went dry, and she stopped writing. She stared at the blank wall. What would Skye say if she knew what Morgan was planning? She gnawed on her bottom lip. For the first time since hatching her revenge plot, she looked at the situation from an outsider’s viewpoint. She’d think you were a nutjob, that’s what she’d think.
Morgan thought back to the conversation they’d had earlier that day. Skye was right; she did have a choice. She wasn’t compelled to take revenge. Surely getting blood on her hands would drag her down to Thomas’s level.
She dropped her head back against the sofa and closed her eyes. She had found the desired clarity. If Morgan had known all she had to do was leave London for a night to find peace, she would have done it ages ago. Who the hell had she been kidding? She didn’t have it in her to order a hit on someone any more than she could kill a person with her bare hands. She opened her eyes again, looked down at the pad and scribbled ‘idiot!!!!!!’ across the page in large, angry letters, her pen tearing the paper as she wrote.
Grabbing her mobile phone from the bedside cabinet, she settled on the edge of the bed as she rummaged through her bag, looking for the envelope with the number inside. Once she found it, she punched the numbers into her phone then wrote a short message, one that would finally put an end to the past:
I’ve changed my mind. The answer is no!
With that done, she tore the number and envelope into shreds and threw them into the bin, released from the burden of holding the fate of a man’s life in her hands. But what would she do now? How would she rid herself of the rage that had filled every cell in her body for years? Counselling? Hypnotherapy? Drugs? Booze? Gym?
She pulled a face at the last suggestion. In truth, none of them sounded like a plausible solution.
Morgan would just have to get on with it, take each day one at a time and throw herself into her work more than ever before.
Skye sneaked back into her thoughts. She had already managed to drive the need for revenge out of Morgan’s mind. If they had such an effect on each other, maybe she could persuade Skye to change her mind and return to London with her.
But what about her aunt? Skye hadn’t told her what was wrong with her. She made a mental note to find out the following day. If Skye’s aunt wasn’t that sick, then maybe they could work out a compromise. After all, London wasn’t that far away. But without Skye by her side, that distance may as well be between the Moon and Earth.
Morgan let out an exasperated groan, having
somehow managed to replace one problem with another.
Only one question filled her mind: How would she persuade Skye to follow her dreams—and her heart?
Chapter Twenty-Two
Why was he so pissed off? What had he expected Morgan to do? Tell him to grab a chair and join her for a late-night drink while they went over old times. Not bloody likely.
Thomas sucked hard on his cigarette and blew smoke out of the open attic bedroom window, into the cold, morning air. He felt like he was sixteen again, holed up in the room where he had grown up. That was a lifetime ago.
Downstairs, his mother argued with his stepdad. His stepdad was moaning about him turning up on his doorstep with his one bag of worldly belongings, which was a bit of a cheek, seeing as Thomas had bought the council property for his mother when he’d been flush with money and his stepdad lived in what was a house paid for by Thomas. Thomas had never got on with the man his mother had chosen to marry, and the feeling of dislike was mutual—even before Thomas had done his stint in prison. He’d never liked him from day one, but his mother loved him, so he had kept his mouth shut and his nose out of their relationship.
He sat motionless, his ears straining to hear anything in the sudden silence. The morning air filtered into his room from the open window and his breath made foggy patches in the air.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs. Flicking the half-smoked cigarette into the garden below, he closed the window and turned towards the door. Someone gave a light knock and then opened the door. His mother stood balancing a tray on one hand—a full English breakfast and a mug of tea.
She looked no older, except for the fine lines around her eyes and a few streaks of grey in her light hair. Her smile was as gentle as ever, and he felt a tug at his heart as he moved to take the tray.
‘Oh Ma, you shouldn’t have,’ he said.
‘Nonsense. You’re as thin as a bone. You look as if you haven’t eaten in weeks, but no worries.’ She touched his cheek lovingly. ‘I’ll soon build you up.’