Trusted by You

by Amy Muscat

  “Oh,” Layla says, clearly surprised that I wasn’t judging her.

  I smile reassuringly at her. “I would never judge you, Layla, I'm just slightly amazed that you were able to raise a baby and write a novel. A fucking brilliant one, too. That’s something to be very proud of.”

  “Thank you,” her voice cracks and her eyes water slightly.

  I don’t know what this girl has been through, but I felt for her. I could see the exhaustion in her eyes that she was obviously trying to hide by plastering a smile on her pretty face.

  “I'm only telling the truth, love. Right, so should we get this going?”

  “Yes please,” I see excitement light her face now.

  I take the contract out of my bag, and a pen. “Okay, let's do this…”

  TWO HOURS LATER Hayley and I had were on our way to eat a late lunch, and Layla had signed a three-year, two book deal. We had met Layla’s little boy, Kent, and he was lovely; such a cutie-pie.

  We stop off in a little café, grab something to eat, and then we take off for the hotel. As we’re driving, I get a phone call from Calum.

  “Hi, Cal,” I say.

  “Hey, Lott's. How’d the meeting go with the author? You sign her?” Calum’s deep voice comes through over the Bluetooth.

  “It went really well, thank you, and yes I signed– or should I say she signed with us. What’re you up to?”

  “Nothing, I'm just about to get dressed, the guys and I were gonna go down to the local pub, do you and your hot little assistant want to come with?”

  I dart my eyes over to my left and see Hayley's gaping mouth, and bugged eyes… and, of course, the ever-present red cheeks.

  “Cal, you're on loudspeaker and Hayley can hear you.”

  “Oh, I know. Hey Hayley.” He calls out with humour in his tone. Hayley murmurs a quiet hello, to which Calum chuckles at. “So are you going to come meet us or what? Sarah said she might come and so did Tommy. I asked Edie if she wanted to come, but you know her, can’t leave Patrick or his side for a minute…”

  “Fucking Hell, she’s still with him?” I asked him about my other cousin who wasn’t there last night.

  “Yep. She’s getting right on my nerves.”

  “Calum that’s your sister we’re talking about,” I remind him.

  “There’s no need to remind me Lott's, I do know. She’s just been acting weird lately– even more so than normal around him and us. It’s like she surgically attached to the prick.” He didn’t sound happy as he said this, and I wondered what had happened in the last couple of months that I had last been here. I had met Edie’s bloke Patrick a couple of times, and even though he always seemed pleasant, there was just something about him that I didn’t like. I don’t know what it is about him, but something just didn’t bode well with me.

  “We’ll talk about this later, Cal. So to answer your first question; yes I'll come out with you, I don’t know what Hayley wants to do… you're gonna have to ask her yourself, mate.” I smirk as I finish talking.

  “So Hales, you want to come out with us tonight, you can show me your moves… maybe even shake that sweet little arse in my direction, or even on me–”

  “Calum!” I shout out warningly. I peek over and see that Hayley has gone the shade of a fire extinguisher. Not a good look for her, I didn’t even think she was breathing. “Hales you okay?”

  She nodded, before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I'll come out tonight, and I will be shaking my ass– but not on you, Calum.” She says with a smug grin on her face. I start to chuckle at the static silence on the other end of the call, Calum is clearly shocked. My dear ol’ cousin is a ladies man, and he clearly thought Hayley would fall for his charms. Tough luck, dude. I hold my hand out to Hayley and she high fives me.

  “You still there, Cal?”

  I finally hear a throat clear. “Erm… yeah, I'm here. Sorry. I'll erm– I'll see you girls in a little while then. Dress up a little, we might head to a club after.”

  “Okay Cal, we’ll see you in a bit. Text me where we’re meeting up, and we will be there soon.” I say to him.

  “Cool. I'll see ya soon, then. Oh and Hayley?” He asks at the last second.

  “Yeah?” Hayley replies back hesitantly.

  “You will be shaking that arse, and it will be on me by the end of the night, I can guarantee you that, sweetheart.” The call cuts off with him chuckling.

  I shake my head. He’s a sneaky bastard. I look over to see Hayley doing the exact same thing, a look of astonishment on her face.

  THE PUB WE’RE IN is busy for a Wednesday. The music is blaring and people are chatting and talking over one another. I'm currently on my fifth? No, maybe seventh Grey Goose, and I’m starting to feel a little tipsy. Hayley, on the other hand, is on her, I don’t know, eighth? Fuck knows, but we’re having fun, and that’s all that matters.

  Paul, one of Calum’s friends, has tried to chat me up at least three times already. I've told him that I already have a boyfriend– even though said boyfriend isn’t talking to me at the moment– but he finally stopped after Calum told him to leave me the fuck alone otherwise he’d punch his skull in.

  I giggle to myself as I think about how after he sent Paul off to the bar area, he spun around and demanded to know about my boyfriend and why I hadn’t told him about Blake. So I sat there for God knows how long talking about Blake. I got a little carried away with myself and forgot who I was talking to because I had started talking about how big his cock is, and how well he knew how to use it. And his tongue, oh God his tongue! Calum sat there for about ten seconds gaping at me, and then demanded me to ‘shut up’ and that he ‘didn’t need to hear that shit.’ Then he got up and stormed over to the bar, muttering to himself, and Hayley and I had started giggling like teenagers.

  That was about ten minutes ago, and Calum was now walking back in our direction with three drinks clasped in-between his hands.

  “Here,” he says to us sitting our drinks down on the chipped wooden table in front of us.

  “Thanks, Calum,” Hayley and I chime.

  “You're welcome girls.” He smiles amused, shaking his head at us. “Right can I sit with you girls or are you going to continue talking about your sex life, Lott's? ‘Cause if so, I'll go back to the bar; I don’t need to be listening to my little cousin talk about that shit. And I definitely don’t want to hear you explain how big your blokes cock is– I don’t even want to hear you say the word cock.” He says, looking at me sternly.

  I raise my eyebrows up at him. “Cock.” I pronounce it slowly.

  Calum’s face scrunches up in disgust, and Hales and I start laughing again. “Okay I'm gonna go back to the–”

  “No! I’m joking, I'm joking. Sit the frack down Cal.” I say waving a hand at him on the seat next to me.

  He rolls his eyes, but he does sit down… right next to Hayley.

  “Hey, Hales.”

  “Hey Cal,” she smiles up at him; her head is practically tipped all the way back.

  He laughs, and then whispers something in her ear that I don’t hear– and going by her blush, I don’t think I want to hear.

  Suddenly, I feel an immense pressure on my bladder. I get up and announce that I'm going to pee. They nod but go back to their conversation, completely dismissing me. I meander my way to the loo’s, dodging the groups of guys and girls, talking and laughing to one another.

  When I finally got to the toilets, there was a stall empty, so I quickly got in there before anyone else could. After I did my business, I pulled out my iPhone and checked my screen for any missed calls or texts.

  Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Not one thing from Blake.

  So with the alcohol in my system, and the anger fuelling me, I decided to call him.

  But low and behold, his phone was off. Great. Fucking perfect. I tried to work out the time difference in my head, but it just wasn’t going too well; so I got the clock app up and realised it was three o’clock in New York.

 
; He might still be at work… with the whore. But, no, he wouldn’t be; he told me that he didn’t start that until next week. But it didn’t mean that the cheating bitch wouldn’t be hanging around him. That’s the sort of woman Lucy was– she was a fucking vulture.

  She was one of those women who didn’t care if a man had a girlfriend or not. To her what she wanted she got, and if she couldn’t get it, then she’d try her damned hardest to get it.

  “Hashtag whoooore,” I say out loud, making the Hashtag symbol with my hand. A couple of people look at me funnily, but I pay them no attention.

  I'm walking back to my table with a huff when I, literally, bump into Paul.

  “Oh shit, I'm sorry, Paul,” I say clutching onto his arms for support.

  His hands are on my hips, splayed and I can feel them twitching. “No problem, Lottie. It was my fault; I wasn’t watching where I was going. Sorry for that.” He smiles a grin that I presume he thinks is enticing, but to me; it’s just creepy.

  “Okay we’ll agree to disagree,” I smile blandly at him, trying to pull away from him, but he tightens his grip. I look up at him sharply. “Paul you can let go of me now,” I say shifting from foot-to-foot.

  “Oh come on, Lottie, Calum’s not here; there’s no need to pretend now.” Again with that creepy-crawly smile.

  “Paul… I don’t know what you're talking about, pretending about what?” I ask him confused and still trying to pull away from him.

  “Well, Calum gave us all a lecture about not trying to hit on you or your friend–”

  “He did what?” I ask, shocked that my cousin had done that. Bloody Hell, it’s not like we’re sixteen anymore. Jeez.

  Now he was the one who looked confused. “Yeah…” He answers slowly. “He said that we’d better stay the fuck away–”

  Again I interrupt him.

  “But you never: you’ve tried to chat me up about four times, tonight.”

  He shrugs his polo-clad shoulders. “Well you're a beautiful woman, and I just thought I'd give it a shot.”

  “Thanks,” I say awkwardly. “But don’t you remember the part where I said I had a boyfriend?”

  He looks shocked for a second, but then his brow wrinkles. “I thought you was just going along with Calum, and pretending about the whole boyfriend thing.”

  Okay. This man was clearly dropped on his head a couple of time as a child.

  “No, I wasn’t pretending… who does that these days?” As he goes to answer, I stop him by holding up my palm near his face. “It was a rhetorical question, Paul.”

  “So you do have a boyfriend?” He asks still somewhat confused. Okay, maybe it was more than a couple of times that he was dropped– maybe a couple of dozen of times… And he still has his fucking hands on my hips.

  “Yes!” I snap, finally losing my patience with the twat. I grab onto his hands that are holding me captive to him, and forcibly remove his hands from me.

  “Oh… I thought…” He drifts off.

  “Well you thought wrong mate, I've got a boyfriend that I love very much back home, in New York. Now leave me be, and I won’t tell Calum that you’ve completely disregarded what he asked of you.”

  “Now now, Lottie, there’s no need to be like that now, is there?” He asks condescendingly.

  This bloke was getting right on my last fucking nerve.

  “There’s no need to be like what, Paul?”

  “A bitch,” he states. And I don’t know what it is about what he’s just said, maybe the bitch part, but it takes me back to mine and Blake's first (disastrous) date.

  “Now, now. There’s no need to be a bitch, Lottie. I never would’ve taken you to be one.” He said with a smirk pulling up at his still kiss-swollen lips.

  Prick.

  “You know what, Blake? I’m not always a bitch… wait. Who am I kidding? Go fuck yourself.” And with that, I smoothly spin around and walk through the doorway…

  I smile on the inside at the remark I had said to him, but outwardly I sneered up at Paul. “Okay let me get something straight, I'm a bitch because I've got a boyfriend and you were too stupid to believe that?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You're excused, sweetheart,” I tell him sarcastically.

  “Why you fucking…” I could see the anger sweep through him.

  Apparently I liked interrupting people today. “Listen douchebag, why don’t you just fuck off away from me, before I'll do something you won’t like,” I say threateningly. I was so gonna kick this man in the bollocks if he carried on…

  “Oh yeah? And what's a little thing like you going to do?” He asked tauntingly. But then he made the biggest mistake; he slapped and then grabbed onto my arse.

  So I did what I said– well thought– I would do. I totally kneed the prick in the balls. Hard.

  He went down like the sack of shit he is. Him falling caused a chain reaction of events to happen. As Paul fell, he knocked into a group of both men and women, which made one of the women to almost go tits-over-head. Which then made her bump into someone else, and then someone else– it was like a fast, vicious circle that ended in me getting a pint of beer spilt down me.

  “Fuck!” I felt the wetness soak through my clothes and I jump back startled.

  The commotion caused Calum to come over and inspect what was happening.

  “What's happened? Why are you soaked to the bone? And why is Paul laying on the floor clutching his privates?”

  “The bitch kicked me in the balls!” Paul shouts out in obvious agony, lying on his side and rocking back and forward.

  “What?” Calum asks, shocked. He turns back to me and looks at me questionably. “Why’d you kick him in the bollocks?” He asks me, bending down and offering a hand to Paul to help him up.

  “’Cause the prick hit on me again, and got a little grabby. He wouldn’t listen when I asked him to let me go, so I kicked him in the balls.” I said shrugging my shoulders, acting blazé about it; but in actual fact I was fuming. Why did men think it was okay to put their grubby hands on others, and not think there would be any consequences? Arsehole.

  Calum instantly lets go of Paul’s hand, thus dropping him back onto his backside. He looked at me with fire in his eyes. He was bristling with anger. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I'm fine, Cal, more pissed off than anything. He thought we were lying when he was told I had a boyfriend, and that it was just a cover story. Oh and we will be having a talk about you telling your friends not to hit on me,” I say to him raising an eyebrow up at him.

  He looked sheepish for a second before he turned back to Paul. “I asked you earlier not to hit on my cousin, and then I had to tell you again, and then you still went behind my back and asked her. You're a fucking arsehole, mate,” Calum says to Paul, looking disgusted with him.

  “She’s a fucking cocktease! She was sending me all these looks and smiling at me with those blowjob lips of he–”

  He didn’t get to finish what he was saying because Calum bent back down again, gripped the front of his top, lifted his upper body up, and then he punched him… right in the jaw.

  “That’s for trying it with my cousin.” Punch. “That’s for going behind my back.” He says, and then one last big punch. “And that… that is for being an absolute cunt.”

  Paul is knocked out on the floor, lip and nose both busted up. When Calum’s satisfied that Paul won’t be getting up again, he straightens to his full height. He spins and looks over to me and then to Hayley, who had come to stand next to me when the commotion started.

  “Let's go,” he says walking the two steps that are separating us. He grabs both Hayley’s and my forearm, leads us back to the table where we grab our bags, and then he’s marching us outside.

  We walk around the corner to the cab station, and only have to wait five minutes for said cab, and then we’re on our way back to the hotel we are staying in. I need to get out of these clothes and shower ASAP: I smell like a fucking brewery.

&n
bsp; Twenty-five minutes later we’ve arrived at the hotel. We say hello to a shell-shocked looking Mr. Harrow, I wave him off when he asks when he voices his concerns about my appearance. In the elevator, we ride up in silence– well I ride up in silence; Hayley and Calum can't stop chewing each other’s ears off. As we’re walking down to our rooms, Calum asks if we were hungry, and me being me, I tell him yes.

  “How about we order some food then?” He suggests.

  “’Kay,” I say shrugging, easily.

  Hayley looks shocked for a second, and then she blurts out, “you can’t order takeout in a hotel like this.”

  Looking over to her, I ask her the obvious question.

  “Why not?”

  “Well… well, because you can’t. It’s not like this is a cheap one-star motel off the highway; this is the Hilton.” She told us pointedly.

  “So?” Calum and I asked simultaneously.

  “So?”

  “Yeah…” I say emphasising the word. “Hayley, chill out girl. The hotel is not going to moan–”

  “But they might! And to be perfectly honest with you, I don’t really relish the thought of being shouted at by Mr. Harrow,” she says grimacing. Hayley was one of those women who followed all the rules, didn’t like to step one foot out of place. She was just a good girl through and through… Bless her.

  I told her as much, too. “Hales, you're far too good sometimes. Come on it’s only a little bit of food, they aren’t going to give us a fine or anything, and they won’t shout at us. They won’t do anythin’.” I tell her truthfully. She still looks uncertain and uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot. “Okay, would it make you feel better if I called down to reception and asked them if we can order a takeaway?” I ask her hoping to appease her plight with the whole ordeal.