Tied to You

by Bibi Paterson

  Sheila raises an arched eyebrow. “Photos?” Alex goes red and I can see how exposed he is feeling. “You mean of your…um…kinky fuckery? Isn’t that what that Fifty Shades lady calls it?” I feel myself going bright red and Alex nearly chokes on the sip of water he has just taken.

  “What on earth do you know about Fifty Shades, Mum? And kinky fuckery, for that matter?” Alex mutters. This is so not the conversation you want to be having with your mother. I look over at Sheila and I can see the twinkle in her eye. I guess it is not often she manages to ruffle Alex.

  “I may be your mother, Alex. But I am not dead. And anyway, where do you think you got it from, huh?” Sheila says with an actual smirk.

  “Too much information, Mum. Seriously!” Alex barks out. So far he is has been studiously trying to avoid eye contact with his mother, but he is now looking at her straight on. “How did you know?”

  “Oh, Alex,” she replies gravely, with a soft sigh. “And I already told you…a mother generally knows these things. Plus you started showing an extraordinary interest in knots when you were sixteen and those magazines you kept under your bed were not exactly innocent. Who do you think used to vacuum under that damn thing anyway? And then, of course, there was the whole Becca thing...” I can see Alex just wants to die, but I am relieved at the complete lack of judgment coming across the table.

  We are suddenly interrupted by the arrival of our food and for several minutes the conversation is put on hold as we tuck into our meals. My crab raviolo with samphire is delicious; I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until I took the first mouthful. When the starters have all been finished, Sheila looks across at Alex and says softly, “Oh, honey. Is this why you left Perth?” Alex nods but stays silent.

  “I am going to ask you one question about this, and then you can forget that this conversation ever happened.” Sheila pauses briefly before continuing. “Have you ever hurt anyone—I mean, that didn’t want it?”

  I can see Alex processing her question and taking a deep breath. “No, Mum, everything I have ever done has been entirely consensual.” Alex’s words are barely above a whisper and I can see it is taking every ounce of self-control not to run out of the restaurant.

  “Well, there you go…” Sheila says brightly, as if we haven’t been talking about her son’s sexual preferences. “Alex, you are every bit the man your father and I brought you up to be. So what if you like it a bit different in the bedroom? As long as you have never brought harm to anyone, then I don’t care. You will never ‘dishonour’ the family name. And you should know us better than to think we would ever think that, son.” Sheila looks at me suddenly and I see comprehension dawn, but she holds her tongue as I squirm under her scrutiny until she gives me a discreet wink. Oh my god, this conversation is disturbing on so many levels.

  “Okay, so now that is out of the way, where are we at with the whole Liv’s dad trying to blackmail you scenario?” I think Alex is just so grateful to be past delving into his whole sexual history that unwittingly he lays open the whole mess that is my family, including my dad’s phone call earlier today. “Oh, sweetie. You know your dad is an idiot, don’t you?” Sheila says, taking my hand and giving it a sympathetic squeeze. I try to shrug off the horrible weight in my chest that keeps pressing down when I think of how he has treated me, but the tears that just don’t seem to want to go away rise to the surface.

  In an instant, Alex’s arm snakes around my frame and he pulls me against his muscular frame as he soothes me. Just feeling him against me seems to calm me and after a couple of seconds I am feeling much better. Enough to ask about the phone call that started this whole damn conversation.

  “The Club,” Alex says succinctly. “After I found out about the photos, I contacted the owner, who I have known for a long time. He has been away for the last couple of weeks so has only just been able to review the CCTV footage in the club.”

  “They have CCTV in there?” I ask, stunned that they would have footage of what went down in there.

  Catching on, Alex quickly responds, “Not on the main floors, no, but at the entrance and in some of the corridors. Everyone has to stow their cameras and phones in the locker rooms, so I asked them to check if anyone was seen with a camera phone in the corridors. And lo and behold, the night my picture was taken, there was someone in the corridors with a phone.” Alex’s expression is dark and I am actually starting to feel a little sorry for whoever is going to be on the receiving end of Alex’s wrath. No, scratch that, I want to fucking claw their eyeballs out!

  “Who?” I ask, my voice low.

  “Sofia.” And with one word I am instantly transported back to New Year’s and the bitch who ran her nails down Alex’s jacket and then proceeded to glare daggers at me all night.

  “But why?” I ask and I can see Sheila’s raised eyebrows across the table.

  Alex nervously looks at me and I know instantly I am not going to like what he has to say. But I try to stamp down any feelings of jealousy that are about to rear their ugly head, particularly in light of how stunning I remember the woman was.

  “Sofia and I had a thing for the last couple of years. It was nothing exclusive, mainly just about scratching a mutual itch.” Alex sighs and I see him throwing his mother an apologetic glance. “But it was a bit more than what I had had with other women in recent years and I guess Sofia thought it was going to become more significant. About six months ago I ended things with her; she was getting a bit too intense and it wasn’t where I wanted things to go. She seemed to take it fine at the time, but now I am wondering whether maybe suddenly getting married so soon after might have riled her up…”

  “You think?” I exclaim incredulously. Seriously, for a bloke who is supposed to be able to read the finer nuances of the female psyche, he has just about ignored the elephant in the room. Even Sheila is looking at her son like he has lost the plot. “Is there actually any proof that it was her? I mean, you said my dad said the package he received was anonymous. And we don’t have the packaging from the document your mum was sent. Unless we have definitive footage of her taking those photos, there is not much we can do…”

  “But the fact that she is trying to mess with me like this, sending stuff to my mum, for heaven sakes, I can’t just let it go,” Alex says defensively.

  “I am not saying let it go, but I think we are going to have to be smart about this. Look, she apparently knows enough about you to know which buttons to push, like sending a copy of our prenup to your mum, but she is obviously resourceful enough to try and find our weaknesses, like my dad.” Suddenly, a thought strikes me. “How the hell did someone get a hold of our prenup? Surely that should have been completely confidential?”

  “I don’t know,” responds Alex, and I can see how stressed out this whole thing is making him. We all fall silent for a moment, which is perfect timing, as our main courses suddenly arrive at the table. None of us is particularly hungry, so much of the delicious food gets pushed around the plates. For the most part, Sheila has let the last part of the conversation flow but after a few minutes speaks up.

  “Alex, I just want you to know that your father and I love you no matter what. How you live your life is no one else’s business but yours. And for the record, however it came to be, I am really glad that you and Liv found each other.” Sheila pauses and I can see the emotion in her eyes. I lean across the table and give her hand a squeeze and a smile. “Just be true to who you are. That’s all we could ever ask.”

  By the time the meal is finished, Sheila has caught us up on all the gossip from back home, and the atmosphere is definitely feeling lighter. I am emotionally exhausted but utterly relieved that all this drama has not caused a rift between Alex and his mum; I know just how precious family is.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I have had the shittiest day, and to top it off, it feels like I am coming down with something; my limbs ache and I feel hot and shivery at the same time. I don’t think I have ever been so grateful to ha
ve my front door in my sightline. All I want to do is get out of my sodden clothes and have a cup of tea and a warm bath. Why is it that February weather always has to be so foul?

  I have just closed the door and am in the process of hanging up my coat and towelling my hair, cursing the fact that I forgot my umbrella, when there is a short knock at the door. I am so not in the mood for visitors but slap on a smile because, hey, you never know who it might be. Yet when I swing the door open, I seriously wish I hadn’t bothered.

  Sofia stands on the doorstep, not a hair out of place, looking resplendent in her dark coat and slash of bright red lipstick across her thin mouth. Before I have a chance to say anything, though, she pushes past me into the hall. After you, I think sarcastically to myself.

  “Alex isn’t here,” I say, fixing Sofia with a glare. Right now I seriously wish that Alex wasn’t on his business trip to Zurich with his mother. After the impromptu flight to come and tear strips off us, Sheila decided to stay for a week and then head back to Australia via Switzerland to tie up a couple of international deals they had been working on. Cursing the fact that he will not be back until tomorrow, I know I just need to suck it up and deal with Sofia myself.

  Sofia narrows her eyes at me, looking me up and down and taking in my bedraggled state. “I know,” she hisses, before stalking off in the direction of the kitchen. Damn, I wish that I didn’t know that she had been with Alex before because right now jealousy is starting to rear its ugly head, making me even crankier than I was feeling before. I follow in her wake, almost feeling like an intruder in my own house, such is the confidence that she is projecting.

  “What do you want, Sofia?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm and neutral in an effort to not let her know that she is getting to me.

  She turns and plants her hands on her hips. “I have come to warn you.”

  “Warn me?” I ask, wondering where the hell this is going.

  “Yes,” she spits at me in a viper-like hiss. “Alex is mine. And when your year is up, you will be out on your arse and then Alex will come back to me. Where he belongs.”

  My mind is spiralling as I take in her words. “Alex broke it off with you, Sofia. I really don’t think he has any interest in going back there.” I say, the snarkiness I am feeling creeping into my voice.

  “You know nothing, Olivia. Your little arrangement that you have going on…that’s all it is. He might have pity-fucked you at New Year’s, but that is all you will ever be—a wife to keep his family happy. But you will never be enough for him, enough for his tastes.” And there she has hit on my weakest spot…my fear that I can’t give him what that sadist in him needs. It is as if she senses my inner unease because she continues, her voice harsh. “Because I am. We are yin and yang. Our connection is true to the core. I gave him everything he needed and he loved it.” She stresses the words ‘everything’ and ‘loved’ and I feel like I have been punched in the gut.

  “Yet he still left you, Sofia,” I counter harshly, my inner bitch finally making a proper appearance, and I am somewhat gratified when I see her wince slightly.

  “Whatever!” she responds, bitterness lacing her words like poison. “It was only ever a matter of time before he came back to me. But you,” she says, pointing her finger at me, her blood-red nails talon-like, “you had to go and get mixed up in our business. When my cousin saw your prenup”—gotcha, I think to myself, as the final piece of the puzzle falls into place—“I knew that I just had to bide my time. A year is doable, and then Alex will kick you to the curb and I will finally take my place as the proper Mrs Davenport.”

  Oh. My. God. This woman is unhinged. Sofia is shrieking at me, garbling about soulmates and yin and yang again, her eyes wild. I am starting to wonder whether I should be trying to make a swift exit when, suddenly, she stills, her eyes growing wide as she stares over my shoulder in the direction of the door. I whip my head around to find Alex filling the doorway, barely suppressed rage rolling off his tall frame.

  “Enough, Sofia,” he barks, his voice ice-cold. “How dare you come in here and talk to Olivia like this.” Funny how Alex always seems to call me Olivia when he slips into Dom mode, I abstractly think to myself with a weird sense of amusement at the situation playing out in front of me. In a couple of strides Alex is at my side, winding his arm around my shivering frame. “You have caused enough trouble with all your stunts and now you have the audacity to come into my home, behaving like this.” I notice Sofia shrinking back a little, and even though I know it is not what nice girls do, I feel a nasty sense of relief that she is finally getting some payback for all the crap she has brought into my life.

  With a harshness that makes even me wince, Alex continues, “You are going to regret messing with me like this. You knew exactly what the arrangement was when we got together. You wanted more, I didn’t, and that was the end. I tried to spare your feelings at the time, Sofia, but the real reason we broke up was because you are a narcissistic bitch. Good for a fuck and a whip, but if you thought I would ever let you near my family and friends, then you were sorely mistaken.”

  Alex strides forward and grabs Sofia’s arm. She emits a low groan as, I guess, the reality of her situation begins to sink in. “Now you are going to get the fuck out of my house,” he says as he drags Sofia bodily out of the kitchen and into the hallway, “and out of my life. If you ever come near Olivia again, you will seriously wish that you had never crossed me.” By this point Alex is opening the front door and pushing her out, Sofia’s previously immaculate hair now dishevelled and tears falling down her face. She tries to apologise, pleading with Alex for forgiveness, but his jaw is set. “And you can let your cousin know that she should expect to be fired,” Alex says as a parting shot before slamming the door behind him.

  I sink down onto the bottom step in the cold hallway, the adrenaline still coursing through my veins, as I watch Alex lean back onto the door, his eyes closed as he rubs the bridge of his nose. I can see from the stress lines around his eyes just how tired he is, and from the look of his crumpled suit I guess that he came straight from his last meeting.

  As the adrenaline begins to leave my system, I am suddenly struck with just how unwell I am feeling. My skin is clammy and beaded with sweat, yet I am shivering. I close my eyes and lean against the bannister as my vision starts to swirl, desperate to keep the nausea at bay. I am just about feeling like I am going to pass out when suddenly I sense Alex in front of me. “Liv, open your eyes,” Alex asks gently as his hands smooth my forehead. I crack open my eyes, wincing at the harsh light flooding the hallway. “Jesus, you are burning up,” Alex says.

  “I don’t feel so good,” I respond as, weirdly, I am now seeing two of Alex. The next thing I know, I am being carried up the stairs and being deposited on our bed. Everything is kind of hazy as I feel cool hands stripping off my clothes and a cold cloth on my forehead. I hear a low moan and somehow realise that the sound is coming from me.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  I am aware of the passing of time in an abstract way, mostly by the sound of voices that come and go. My dreams are vivid and at some point I feel like my skin is on fire amidst a hallucination of being trapped in a burning building. I come to briefly to find myself soaking wet under a refreshing shower, Alex supporting my body as we sit under the steady jets of water.

  “Alex?” I croak out.

  “Oh, baby, I have got you. Your temperature is too high. We have to get it down, sweetheart.” He smoothes back the hair off my face and I curl myself into his body, my head nestling into Alex’s neck. Strong arms encircle me and the murmur of gentle words sends me back into the darkness.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  I wake to see weak sunshine filtering through the bedroom window and for the first time in what feels like days my mind is clear. My throat is parched, though, and I find myself reaching for a glass of water that I see on the side, only to find a large hand already there and handing it to me. My eyes meet Alex’s and their normally slate colour is
clouded with darkness and exhaustion.

  Alex helps me into a sitting position, packing the pillows around me, and finally, I can take a sip of the cold water he offers. “What happened?” I ask, struggling to put together the pieces of why I am lying here, feeling like I have done ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed next to me, Alex smoothes a stray hair off my face. “You have had the flu, Liv. A rather nasty bout. I wasn’t sure if your temperature was ever going to break. Scared the shit out of me, actually.” Alex pushes a hand through his hair distractedly and scowls. “Thought I was going to have to get you to the hospital a couple of times.”

  “The shower…” I say as vague memories flicker through my mind.

  “That was last night. Your temperature finally broke about two o’clock this morning.” Alex’s voice catches and I can see the strain written all over his face. He doesn’t look like he has slept for days.

  “I am so sorry,” I whisper, feeling dreadful that I have put him through this.

  “Oh, baby, none of this is your fault. Just one of those things. I am just so relieved you are back in the land of the living.” With that, he plants a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Do you want a cup of tea?” he asks, knowing me well. I nod and he disappears through the door.

  I lie back and try to piece together the last things that I remember. Images, like a silent show reel, flick through my mind. “Sofia,” I gasp out as I finally remember returning home and then being subjected to her rant.

  “It’s okay, Liv. I dealt with her,” Alex says reassuringly as he walks back into the room, holding a steaming cup of tea. I take the cup gratefully, blowing on the top and feeling the warmth of the steam in my face.