Illusions of Love

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Illusions of Love Page 36

by Michelle Betham


  ‘Charley…’

  ‘Please, Kenny. We should never have started this, it should never have happened. Just go, before it turns into a bigger mess than it already is.’

  Kenny sat up, pushing both hands through his hair, sighing heavily as Charley sat up too, snuggling up behind him one last time. A few final seconds of peaceful escapism before they both had to learn to face up to their reality.

  ‘Thank you,’ Charley whispered, kissing his shoulder.

  ‘For what?’ Kenny asked, pulling her round so she sat astride him.

  ‘For being a friend,’ Charley replied, sliding her arms round his neck. ‘I don’t know how I’d have got through this without you being here.’

  Kenny just smiled, sliding his arms round her waist, pulling her down onto him as their mouths touched in one final kiss. A kiss so long and deep that neither of them heard the apartment door open, neither of them heard the voice asking if anyone was home; neither of them heard him enter the bedroom – until it was too late.

  ***

  Michael wasn’t sure if he’d done the right thing, sleeping with Layla, but she could put up a very persuasive argument, when she wanted to. Especially when she was dressed in nothing but five-inch heels and a smile. He was a man, after all. How could anyone expect him to ignore that?

  She may not be India, but she was one hell of a beautiful woman with a body that could do things to him that he needed right now. She gave him a release; a chance to let all that frustration go, an opportunity to pretend that the woman making love to him was the woman he really wanted, and not the woman who really wanted him. Because they were two completely different people.

  So maybe it wasn’t fair on Layla, to keep her here when she so obviously wanted more from him than he was willing to give her, but once again Michael was tired of being lonely. He needed Layla around, for now. He needed somebody, just not as much as he needed India.

  ‘It still bothers you, doesn’t it? That she’s with your son and not you.’

  Michael continued to stare out of the window, over at the neighbouring villa where he knew India was. With Dominic. Probably doing exactly what he and Layla had been doing not half an hour ago. Did he kiss her like he’d used to? Did he feel the same? Did he make her feel the things he’d made her feel? All questions that continued to go round and round in his head, like some monotonous merry-go-round.

  ‘Don’t call him “my son”, Layla.’

  ‘That’s what he is though, isn’t he?’

  Michael turned around, leaning back against the window, folding his arms. ‘By blood, maybe. But in every other sense of the word he’s a stranger. He’s just some actor who happens to be working on my movie.’

  ‘And sleeping with your ex-wife,’ Layla said, pouring herself another glass of orange juice.

  Michael looked at her, all pretty and perfect in her baby-pink dress and tousled blond hair. Most men would kill to be with this woman, but all she would ever be to Michael was second best – a very beautiful and incredibly sexy second best, but second best none-the-less.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. Just the thought of India and Dominic sleeping together made his stomach turn, but he said nothing. It wasn’t a subject he felt much like talking about, but Layla seemed intent on carrying the conversation on.

  ‘Don’t you want to know more about him, though?’

  Michael turned his head to take another glance out of the window, his attention caught by the sight of Dominic leaving India’s villa, kissing her as she leant back against the outside wall, both of them laughing.

  ‘Know more about who?’ Michael asked, unable to divert his eyes away from the sight of his ex-wife and his son.

  ‘About Dominic. Jesus, Michael. At least look at me for a second, will you?’

  He reluctantly turned back around, walking away from the window. ‘I don’t want to know anything about him, alright?’

  Layla sat down at the kitchen table, crossing her legs, taking a sip of orange juice. ‘And is that purely because he’s fucking India?’

  Michael swung round, leaning over to face Layla, his palms flat down on the table in front of her as he faced her. ‘What the hell is this, Layla? Are you deliberately trying to piss me off?’

  Layla stood up, kicking her chair back. ‘No, I’m trying to make you face up to this fucking complicated life you seem to have. I’m trying to make you face up to the fact that she is never, ever coming back to you, Michael. She’s never coming back; can’t you fucking see that yet?’

  Michael backed away, pushing a hand through his hair. ‘You’re only saying that because… because you want me for yourself.’

  Layla laughed out loud, one of those cynical, surprised laughs. ‘Jesus, honey, is that what you really think?’

  ‘Why else would you say those things?’

  ‘Because they’re true, Michael. They’re fucking true, and the only person who can’t see that is you. Don’t you get it? You’re chasing some fantasy that is never going to happen…’

  ‘It happened once. I had her, Layla. She was mine, and then I threw it all away…’

  ‘Yes, you did. And whatever happened between you two… She isn’t coming back, Michael.’ Layla’s voice had softened somewhat because, despite her almost desperate need for Michael to forget his obsession with India, the last thing she wanted was to see him upset. Because she loved him. In spite of everything, in spite of the fact she knew – deep down inside – that he would never really be over India, she loved him more than she cared to admit.

  She walked over to him, laying a hand gently on his shoulder, turning him round to face her, his beautiful blue eyes looking right into hers. ‘I can help you, Michael. I can help you move on, but you have to let me.’

  ‘I don’t know, Layla… all of this… I just don’t know…’

  She reached out to touch his cheek, running her fingers over it, smiling a gentle, understanding smile before kissing him slowly, willing his arms to fall around her and pull her close because she wanted him to hold her more than she wanted anything.

  ‘You can, baby. You can do anything. You’re Michael Walsh, and he lets nothing stand in his way. Remember?’

  He couldn’t help but smile. ‘You don’t deserve me, Layla. And I certainly don’t deserve you.’

  ‘Yeah, I think you do.’ She slid her hand into his, leading him away from the window. ‘Come on. Let’s go back to bed, and I can show you just how much you really deserve me.’

  ***

  ‘You do know that all we’re doing is giving the paparazzi more opportunities to get more photos of you and me. Like they haven’t got enough of those already.’ India leant back against the wall outside her Las Vegas villa as Dominic pulled her close, smiling that smile – that movie star smile – that could send a million shivers running up and down her spine.

  ‘So, what do a few more matter then?’ Dominic smiled, kissing her neck, causing India to gasp out loud. ‘Jesus, baby, I can’t leave you alone today.’

  ‘I’ll be seeing you on set in half an hour,’ she breathed, gasping again as his fingers slid up underneath her T-shirt, touching her naked skin.

  ‘Half an hour can be a long time, beautiful, when you’re away from a man like me.’

  India burst out laughing, throwing her head back as he pulled her close, kissing the base of her throat, moving up until he found her mouth, touching it gently with his own and she just fell against him, loosely wrapping her arms around his neck.

  ‘Why can’t we just stay here today,’ India groaned, resting her forehead against his. ‘I really don’t feel much like working. I just want to go back to bed.’

  ‘And sleep?’ Dominic asked, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘No, of course I don’t want to bloody sleep…’

  He shut her up with another kiss, pulling her closer, wanting to feel every inch of her against him and not caring who was watching or how many photographs they were taking. He was right where he wanted to be, with t
he woman he wanted to be with.

  ‘You’d better get going,’ she smiled, pulling away slightly, almost forcing herself to let him go, because she didn’t really want to.

  Dominic took a quick look over at Michael’s villa opposite. ‘Yeah. Don’t want to be upsetting daddy now, do I?’

  India played with the collar of his shirt, looking up into his eyes. ‘Don’t you feel like talking to him? Y’know, even trying to get to know him?’

  ‘Do you think I should?’

  She shrugged. She didn’t really know what she should be telling him to do, it just felt a bit strange that both he and Michael had discovered this connection to the other, and yet both of them were almost acting as though it had never happened. And India, better than anyone, knew that you shouldn’t keep things hidden below the surface, letting them lie there dormant only to erupt like some savage volcano when the pressure gets too much. So maybe they should talk to each other. Maybe they should at least try.

  ‘Is there a reason why you think me and Michael should at least try and work something out?’ Dominic asked, breaking into India’s thoughts.

  She shook her head. ‘No. Of course not. I just… I just don’t want you to think that… that because of what happened between me and him, well, don’t let that get in the way. If you want to talk to him, then talk to him. He might want that too, y’know.’

  ‘I doubt it,’ Dominic sighed, pushing a hand through his hair, leaning back against the wall next to India. ‘The way he feels about you… he’s never gonna accept me, is he? Seriously? Not while I’m sleeping with you. Right now I’m not his son, India. I’m his biggest threat.’

  What could India say to that? That he was wrong? When he probably wasn’t.

  ‘Hey, come on,’ he smiled, reaching out to take her hand, not really wanting to bring the mood down by talking about a man he didn’t really want to think about. ‘How about five more minutes, huh? Five more minutes then, I promise, I’ll be a good boy and get off to work without an argument.’

  She smiled too, pulling him back indoors. ‘Five minutes, Mr Movie Star. And you’d better make good use of them.’

  CHAPTER 35

  Vince had to blink a few times to try and make sense of what he was seeing in front of him. His wife – his beautiful wife – kissing Kenny Ross. And not just any kind of kiss, oh no, this was a kiss that held some kind of meaning and it was all Vince could do not to be sick as every fear he’d had stashed away at the back of his mind came tumbling forward at an almost perverse speed, the shock of what he was witnessing hitting him head on.

  ‘Is there something going on here that I should know about?’ He finally managed to find the words, his aura of calm belying the way he was really feeling. And he gained no satisfaction whatsoever from seeing the guilty way they sprang apart. His wife, and Kenny Ross.

  Charley grabbed the sheet, covering herself with it as Kenny jumped up off the bed, quickly pulling on his clothes as Vince continued to stare at the scene before him. It was so obvious what had been going on here, so if they tried to fob him off with some kind of pathetic excuse…

  ‘Vince… I’m so sorry…’ Charley said, her voice shaking, a desperate tone to it that didn’t escape Vince.

  ‘Our daughter is asleep in the room next door.’ Still his voice was slow and steady, and even he didn’t know how he was managing to do that because inside he was falling apart. ‘Lily… she’s asleep and you’re in here…’

  ‘Vince, listen, we can explain…’

  Without even looking at Kenny Vince held up his hand, silencing him before he launched into that “there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation to all of this” speech. Something Vince couldn’t be bothered to listen to. ‘Can you just leave. Please. I’d like to talk to my wife – alone.’ His eyes never left Charley as he spoke, but Kenny got the message loud and clear.

  He glanced over at Charley, who didn’t meet his eyes, she was still staring at Vince. But Kenny didn’t like the idea of just leaving her there, by herself. ‘Charley… do you want me to…?’

  ‘I said, can you just leave!’ Vince’s voice was raised slightly, but still he didn’t turn to face Kenny, still he kept his eyes very firmly on his wife. ‘Now!’

  Charley heard the door close behind Kenny as he left the bedroom, but Vince said nothing for a few seconds, which only served to make her more nervous and scared than she already was. She’d never seen Vince this way before, but then, she’d never cheated on him before, had she?

  ‘I won’t ask what’s been going on, because it’s more than obvious,’ Vince began, not moving from where he was stood, his face still an image of calm control.

  ‘Please, Vince…’

  He held his hand up to silence her, just as he’d done with Kenny. ‘Don’t say anything, okay? Not yet. I’m not ready to hear it.’

  Charley pushed a hand through her dark curls, finally moving off the bed, scrabbling around for her discarded clothes. Vince stayed silent. She felt sick, but what could she do? What the hell did she expect?

  ‘Why, Charley?’ Vince finally asked the one question – the only question – that needed to be asked.

  Pulling her shirt over her head she sat down on the edge of the bed, an almost defeated air about her. She couldn’t lie her way out of this one. She’d known what she was getting into from the minute she and Kenny had started this – whatever it had been. And they should never have started it in the first place. Two weak people, one huge mistake.

  ‘Well?’ Vince asked again, his voice carrying a slightly harder edge than it had done before.

  Charley looked up at him, tears starting to burn the back of her eyes. ‘Jimmy Cash he’s… he’s a dangerous man, Vince.’

  ‘What the hell has Jimmy got to do with you fucking Kenny Ross?’

  Charley threw her head back, sighing heavily. ‘I could talk to him, y’know? Kenny. I could tell him how I was feeling, what was going on in my head…’

  ‘And you couldn’t talk to me? I’m your fucking husband, Charley. We had no secrets, nothing, everything was freakin’ perfect, honey! So why the fuck is this happening, huh? Why couldn’t you just talk to me? I thought we were handling this, I thought we were dealing with it… I assumed you could talk to me now it’s all out in the open… Shit! How stupid was I?’

  Charley looked at him again, the guilt she was feeling at what she’d done so overwhelming it took her breath away. ‘He killed Terry, don’t you remember? Jimmy, he… he punishes those I love to get back at me. That’s what he does, because he doesn’t care. But I do. I care about what happens to you, Vince. Jesus, I love you so much…’

  ‘Well, you’ve got a real weird way of showing that, sweetheart.’

  She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, hot, frustrated tears now spilling down her face. ‘If I’d told you everything from the beginning, everything that was going on with Jimmy, you would’ve shot off and done something… I don’t know what, but you might have got yourself involved in… in… oh, Jesus, I don’t know. All I know is that I love you too much to put you in danger, to put you in Jimmy’s firing line.’

  Vince looked at her for a second, part of him still so angry with her he just wanted her out of there, and part of him wanting to hold her tight and make all the pain go away. Which part he listened to he still wasn’t yet sure.

  ‘I’m not that kind of person, Charley. And I thought you knew that.’

  ‘I only did what I thought was right.’

  ‘What? And sleeping with Kenny Ross was right?’

  ‘No, Jesus, no. Of course not. I meant…’

  ‘I know what you meant,’ Vince sighed, finally moving from where he’d been standing since he first entered the bedroom, leaning back against the wall, closing his eyes for a second. But nothing had changed when he opened them again. He was still in the middle of a situation he didn’t want to be anywhere near.

  ‘But I didn’t go running off to hunt him down, did I?’ Vince said, looking at Char
ley again. Her head was down, her hands clasped together in her lap. She felt guilty alright, that was obvious, but seeing that and knowing that didn’t really make him feel any better. ‘When the truth came out, when you finally had to tell me about Jimmy, I didn’t go running off to sort him out, did I? I’ve got it under control, Charley; we’re dealing with it, so why this shit with Kenny? Why? I don’t fucking understand, honey.’

  ‘He was my escape.’ Charley’s voice was almost a whisper now.

  ‘Your escape?’ Vince asked, unable to believe what he was hearing. ‘Your fucking escape? From what, Charley? Your escape from what?’

  ‘When I was with him I didn’t have to think about how scared I was. I could talk to him without him feeling as though there should be more he was doing, I could forget the fear and the worry…’

  ‘And what was his excuse? Huh? What the fuck was he escaping from?’

  Charley looked at Vince. ‘India.’

  Vince couldn’t help but laugh out loud – a cynical laugh – pushing a hand through his hair. ‘You need to escape from me, and he needs to forget about the fact he’s never going to have the only woman he really wants. So he does that by sleeping with my wife, does he? You’ve managed to create one holy hell of a mess here, haven’t you?’

  Charley stood up, sticking her hands in her pockets to prevent her from reaching out to touch him, because that’s what she really wanted to do. She wanted to hold him and tell him how sorry she was, how she’d never meant for this to happen, that somehow she’d just got caught up in a situation she’d had no control over. Or was that just another excuse she kept telling herself to keep yet more guilt at bay?

  ‘It went too far, I know that now. I was wrong and I’ve been stupid…’

  ‘Stupid? That’s an understatement, honey.’

  ‘Can’t we just talk about this, Vince? Please? For Lily’s sake.’

  ‘Oh no. No. Don’t you bring our daughter into this. No. Look, I really can’t do this now. I need to get my head straight, I need to get out of here and think.’

 

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