by Alison Mello
He licked his lips, glancing up at me before looking at the carpet. “It was her idea. She thought if I got with you, it would stop it between us. It didn’t. It got worse because she got jealous.”
The brazenness of his words ripped a new hole inside me. Then I remembered his words that day we’d gone for coffee. Looks like I may as well just do it, then.
I gasped and I clutched at my chest. Tears began to form once again as I couldn’t help but ask the inevitable. “Did you…in my house…?”
Their silence was enough for me. Weakness swamped me once more. Scooping me up in his arms, Paul took me back to his room. I buried my head in his chest and cried myself to sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Four
I woke the next morning curled inside a pair of strong, familiar arms. The heavenly scent of Paul’s aftershave combed over me. I glanced up to see his handsome face inches away from mine. For a brief second, I questioned why I was inside his embrace. Then it hit me. Like a freight train.
I peeled myself from his arms, careful not to disturb his sleep. I wanted my stuff and I wanted my phone to call my brother, but of course, that was all in that room.
Taking a deep breath, I took the apprehensive walk down the corridor. As I approached the door, I realised I didn’t have my key. I swore under my breath before noticing the idiots hadn’t removed my key from the lock the previous night.
Taking the same path I had done only hours ago, I opened the door. Seeing them both cuddled up against each other left puncture wounds in my heart so great, I may as well have been bitten by a lion.
Scott was awake, and carefully slid out from Molly’s sleeping form. He shuffled over to me, his face full of hope. “Hi…”
“I came for my stuff.”
“I just want to explain myself. I do have feelings for you—”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Ky…” He reached a hand out to touch me.
I batted his hand away, growling at him. “Don’t touch me.”
His eyes flashed with hurt and he took a step towards me. “I meant it when I said I loved you.”
I stood my ground, ready to punch him if he took another step. “Good for you. Unfortunately, I don’t love you.”
“But last night…”
“Yeah. Thinking about it, I don’t think I ever really loved you. I just loved the idea of what I thought you could give me.”
He stepped back, tears springing in his eyes.
I carried on, my vicious tongue putting him in his place. “My true desires have always laid elsewhere. You were just a welcome distraction when I couldn’t have them.”
His attention flickered behind me. I followed his gaze to see Paul stood in the doorway, dishevelled hair and streaks from my mascara staining his shirt.
My heart jumped at the sight of him. It had always been him and it would always be him.
He came to me and cupped my cheek with his hand. “What are you doing?”
“I wanted my stuff.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up? I’d have got it for you.”
I gazed into his lucid blue eyes, hypnotised already. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”
Scott spoke from behind me. “What the fuck is this? It’s him, isn’t it? What you were just talking about?”
I turned to him, anger rising. “That’s nothing to do with you.”
“Have you been sleeping with him whilst we were together?”
I laughed, not quite believing he had the cheek to ask. “Are you seriously asking me that right now? No, Scott. I haven’t slept with him since we’ve been together, but being brutally honest, it was hard to resist temptation.”
A blank expression passed over him for a few seconds before he smirked. “Well, I guess you can now say you fulfilled the complete role of a PA.”
Before I knew it, Paul flew from behind me, punching Scott square in the face with a sickening crunch. He crumpled to the floor, crying and holding his hands to his face.
Molly jumped up from the bed, screaming as she scrambled down to Scott. She yelled at Paul, fighting Scott’s hands from his face to reveal streams of blood and a broken nose.
“I’m going to have you done for assault,” she said, sobbing.
Paul chuckled. “Good luck with that one, sweetheart.”
He stepped over the mess on the floor, grabbing my bags as I instructed him where my stuff was. I collected a few bits from the bathroom to my left, stifling my beaming smile at Paul breaking Scott’s nose. God, it was satisfying.
I emerged from the bathroom, grinning at Molly’s tear ridden face. “Have a nice life, Molly.”
“Oh, I will do now I’ve wrecked yours.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. You’ve made it better.”
She stood up, her eyes glistening with a dreamy haze. “Don’t you see? He chose me over you. For once I’m not in your shadow, watching everyone kiss your feet. This time it was me. Someone wanted me and not you.”
I frowned, the reality of her words leaving me dumb founded. “What about Chris? He loved you, you bimbo.”
“Pffft. He had no backbone. He was getting boring.”
I raised my eyebrows, shaking my head in disbelief. “You really are a piece of work. Whatever. I’m done.”
Paul took my hand, leading me from the room without so much as a second glance.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I spent the next couple of days with Ash. I couldn’t quite face the reality of going home just yet. He had been livid with what Molly had done. Ben and I had to physically restrain him from going round her house to give her what for. Paul had told me to take as much time off as I needed.
I woke this morning feeling determined. I begged Ash to take me to my house, which, when he saw what I had in mind, he would regret. As I opened the front door, the reality of them being in here hit me square in the face. How would I ever get over this? How could I ever trust anyone again? I rummaged around for my shed keys, grinning to myself before marching outside. Taking the full can of petrol and a box of matches, I placed them in the middle of the garden.
I bounded up the stairs, scooping up Scott’s clothes before starting myself a lovely little fire. As the flames licked at his expensive clothes, an overwhelming sense of glee washed over me, fuelling me further.
Ash sat on the bonnet of his car, arms crossed, saying nothing. I darted back inside, grabbing anything Scott related to feed the roaring blaze outside. My next move startled Ash into action as he watched me shove one of my sofas out the door.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m getting rid of anything they might have had sex on. I don’t know what I could catch.”
He pursed his lips, glancing at me with concern when I brought the second sofa outside and took it to its fate. I rushed upstairs and ripped the mattress from the bed. The duvet and pillows were next to be thrown to their death along with the rest of my sheets. I didn’t care they were clean; they’d probably still suffered seeing Scott and Molly like I had.
The more things I burned, the more images I saw of them doing it in my house. It drove me crazy, and I battled furiously to force the unbendable mattress down the stairs.
I threw it onto the unforgiving fire and collapsed on the ground with huge, racking sobs. The heat burned my face but I didn’t care. I wanted the fire to consume all the pain inside me as well as everything I’d fed it.
Ash dragged me away from the fire. “Pull yourself together. What are you going to do now you’ve burned all your furniture?”
I snapped out of my wallowing self-pity, looking at my brother with renewed inspiration. I wrenched his grip from my arm. “Burn everything else.”
The curtains throughout the house were next. I was upstairs attempting to rip up my carpets when I heard a stomping up the stairs.
“Leave me alone, Ash. I know what I’m doing. If you’re not going to support me, then just leave. I didn’t ask you to stay.”
That wasn’t Ash. It was Paul.
I whirled round, feeling like a rabbit in headlights as I looked up at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Get your shoes on.”
Seeing him dressed in his black trousers and baby blue shirt made my heart race. I graced myself a few seconds to drink in his delicious body. I loved that look on him.
“Why?”
He said nothing. He strode towards me, picked me up, and carried me downstairs. He set me down after I hit his chest for the twentieth time.
“Shoes,” he said, pointing to my low-heeled boots.
“Fine.”
I stalked outside to see Ash smirking. Paul placed his hands on my shoulders. “Car.”
“Where are we going?”
“Get in the car, Kyra.”
“When you tell me where we are going.”
He said nothing, merely wrapping his arms around my waist and carrying me to the car. Opening the door, he stuffed me in the passenger seat despite my protests.
“Paul, stop it. Where are we going?”
He ignored me, settling himself in the driver’s seat, still silent.
I continued to demand to know where we were going but he remained wordless, his features dark and brooding. He drove us deep into the countryside, and I stared out the window, sulking like a petulant child. Watching the green fields roll by did little to calm the jumble of emotions furling around my body.
The car crunched along a gravel roadway, switching my attention forwards. Apprehension rose within me when I realised we were heading towards a magnificent stable yard. Post and rail fencing edged acres as far as the eye could see, dozens of horses grazing their way through the lush grass. Cross-country fences spanned over all the fields, which surrounded the fabulous yard itself.
The long driveway led us closer, my heart pounding as I watched a couple of riders in one of the several arenas I’d managed to count. What a place. If Scotch was still here, this would have been paradise to me.
He parked the car, fear rising up my throat with a taste of bile. “What are we doing here?”
He exited the car, making his way round to open my door. “Come with me.”
“Paul, I’m not messing about now. What the hell are we doing here?”
Settling his brilliant blue eyes on mine, nothing but a serious tone of determination showed. “I’m not messing about either. Now get out of the car.”
Taking a couple of seconds to debate his mood, I thought better of arguing. My tongue licked at my dry lips when he took my hand and led me through the fantastically, spotless yard. It was like something from a magazine.
He took me through a small alleyway between two stables, my eyes on stalks when I noticed yet another arena out here, all soft, expensive rubber in its Olympic sizing. A young blonde girl stood in the middle, holding a huge dapple grey warmblood mare. The horse had a hell of a pedigree. The way she stood, holding her head with a majestic yet arrogant undertone told me she was no common cob.
“If you’re suggesting what I think you are…”
He glared at me, shoving me through the wooden gate before dragging me over to the young girl.
“This is my sister, Rebecca.”
My jaw dropped open as I stared at him. “You never told me you had a sister.”
“I believe I just did.”
Rebecca giggled and held out her small hand to me. “Hi.”
I smiled, noting how her facial features were so similar to Paul’s. Her green eyes danced with glee as her pretty face creased into a broad smile. We swapped pleasantries before she turned her attention to the horse.
“This is Eloise.”
I cast my eyes over the mare once more, my eyebrows raising at her expensive Stubben tack and pure wool lined boots. “She’s lovely.”
I held a hand out to her, offering for her to sniff me. She cocked an ear in my direction but other than that, didn’t acknowledge me at all.
Rebecca smiled. “Don’t take it personally. She thinks she’s too good for people.”
I pursed my lips. “Ah.” I pointed to the hat in her hands. “And I’m guessing I’m supposed to ride her?”
Her eyes flitted over to Paul before she nodded.
“I haven’t ridden for five years. I actually had no plans to ride again either.” I settled a hardened stare on Paul.
His face expressionless, he turned to me. “Get on the horse.”
“No.”
“Get on the horse, Kyra.”
“No. You’ve been a complete ass to me since you barged your way into my house twenty minutes ago and practically kidnapped me. Stop ordering me around like a damn army sergeant.”
Rebecca spluttered with laughter. Paul’s face darkened. “Get on the damn horse or so help me god I’ll put you up there myself.”
“No.”
“Last chance, Kyra. Get on the horse yourself and keep your dignity or I’ll put you up there. Either way, you are getting on that horse and you are getting on it now.”
I scowled and threw him a swear word or two, making my feelings rather clear. He held the same look until I caved in a couple of minutes later.
I sighed. “Fine.”
Ignoring the fluttering in my stomach and my trembling hands, I put the hat on. As Rebecca sorted the stirrups and girth, I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans, silently cursing Paul. He carried over a wooden mounting block, my knees not far off knocking together when I climbed it, and stood at the side of the big mare. I took a deep breath before sitting myself on top of my first horse in over five years.
Having already noticed her special bit and noseband, I looked down at Rebecca, more than apprehensive.
“Anything I should know?”
“You don’t scare easily, do you?”
I shook my head. “I used to event.”
“You should be okay, then.”
Should be okay? What the hell did that mean?
Throwing one last dirty look at Paul, I pushed the mare forwards into a walk. She eased forwards with her ears pricked. We made our way around the outside of the arena and I began to relax. Memories of Scotch began to replay, ushering me back into my quiet confidence, and even pushing a smile from me.
Asking Eloise forwards into a trot, I began finding my old rhythm, my body going into autopilot. Just as my nerves finally eased, I suddenly found myself hurtling at an insane speed towards the gate. Before I could do anything, a massive buck threw me through the air, splattering me on the ground at Paul’s feet.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Paul helped me up, asking if I was okay.
“Okay? I just got thrown from an apparent Lilith of horses, and you’re asking if I’m okay?” I brushed the dirt from my jeans, trying to ignore the throbbing throughout my body. “I actually hurt all over if you must know.”
His lips tweaked up into a victorious smirk. “So what are you going to do?”
The penny dropped and I realised what the whole point of this was. A mixture of anger and irritation began bubbling as I stared at the handsome, intelligent man before me.
“I’m sure you could have taught me this lesson in a much nicer way.”
“But this was more literal. And from where I’m standing, more entertaining.”
I narrowed my eyes at him as Rebecca offered me a short whip. “I don’t like using them.”
She pushed it into my hand. “You will need it. Don’t be afraid to use it.”
I chewed my lip and remounted the awkward mare. Thinking over my options as I walked her around the edge of the arena, she strolled along like butter wouldn’t melt. Curving her round onto a wide circle, I pushed her forwards into a trot, more than ready for her little trick. When the gate appeared in view, she tensed, resulting in a tap on the shoulder from me. She squealed, shaking her head from side to side as she tried to break the circle.
I sat deep in the saddle, preparing myself for whatever she ma
y throw at me. We fought for nearly twenty minutes as she snatched at the bit, crabbed all over, and tried dropping her shoulder several times. Every time she misbehaved, she received a tap on the shoulder and was made to work on a smaller, tighter circle. When she did as I asked, the circle became wider and easier for her.
She gave in with a massive sigh, dropping her head and working into a beautiful outline like a pro. For the next half hour I had the ride of my life as I played with her, seeing what she could do. I rode back over to Rebecca and Paul, grinning like a Cheshire cat—I couldn’t have been happier.
“Wow.” I slid down from the saddle, my legs shaking. “What a horse.”
Rebecca smiled, taking the reins from me. “She’s a tricky little mare. She broke her owner’s back.”
I glared at Paul. “And you knew that?”
Rebecca stepped in, explaining the mare’s history to me. It sounded mostly her owner’s fault, and with her eventing career on hold whilst he recovered, she needed exercising but she always threw people off.
“She needs to be ridden and competed. She lives for it. She wants it, needs it. Now you’ve cracked her, she’ll be like putty in your hands.”
I smiled, blushing.
“She’s here whenever you want to ride. I mean that.”
I gave her my thanks before Paul drove me home. He explained to me how his sister, who was two years younger than me, had left home at sixteen, disgusted by her parents’ lifestyle and business venture. So desperate to leave them, she’d gone to live at a local riding school, living in a dirty, rotten caravan. Outraged by this, his parents tried to bring her home, only for her refusals to continue. Eventually, they reached a compromise where she agreed to a distanced relationship with them and in return, they bought her that amazing yard complete with a house.
She had changed her surname to disassociate from them but as she knew the truth behind Paul’s feelings, she’d kept a close relationship with him. A strange feeling of closeness washed over me as I revelled in the fact he’d introduced me to a “secret” member of his family. A small sliver of hope started to climb inside me.