I hadn’t made it to bed before he fell asleep once in the last seven days and I missed him.
Nina’s driver, Darren, hopped out of the car and gave us a cheeky smirk as he opened the door and we filed into the back.
“Ssh!” I tumbled in the front door and fell to my hands and knees.
It was easier to stay like that, so I crawled along the hallway and flopped onto the bottom step.
“Thomas!” I called, then covered my mouth. “Ssh.”
I giggled as an upside down Thomas appeared at the top of the stairs and made his way down. He’d been awake waiting for me, probably reading in bed, judging by the boxers hanging low on his hips and the glasses that framed his hazel brown eyes.
“Long day at the office?” I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm.
“You know I don’t want to go.”
He snorted, “You could stick to lemonade.”
He picked me up and carried me upstairs to our bathroom.
“You’ve met Nina,” I shoved my toothbrush in my mouth.
“I have,” he pulled my hair from the tie and I shivered as his fingers combed through my dark locks. “I think she’s tameable.”
“You can tell her that on New Year’s Eve.”
Our eyes connected in the mirror. I wanted him; in a split second my blood turned to molten lava. He winked - a sign that he knew exactly what I wanted… I knew he wouldn’t give it to me when he turned and left the room.
I pulled everything but my silver thong off and left my clothes on the floor as I stepped into the bedroom. Thomas cleared his throat when he looked up and his eyes followed me around to my side of the bed. I climbed in without looking at him and faced the other direction. Two could play the teasing game.
Thomas pulled me into him and I felt the hard bulge in his boxers against me. I hummed and wiggled into him, but neither of us were going to give in.
“I get you back after Christmas, right?”
I clenched my jaw, wondering how he kept his cool when I was ready to jump him. A moan escaped without permission when he rolled his hips and squeezed my leg.
“Right.”
He kissed my shoulder, sinking his teeth in for just long enough to drive me crazy. We closed our eyes and fell asleep with a gentle, smouldering desire swimming through our veins.
Twenty Three
We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and hope it’s not as gut-wrenching as the last.
Christmas Day, 2009.
I opened my eyes as the winter sun streamed through the windows. My heart grew heavy as soon as I remembered what day it was. Christmas Day. I groaned and turned to find Thomas; he was on his side, awake and watching me.
“Merry Christmas,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could and kissed him. “How long have you been awake?”
He shrugged, “I like to watch you sleep. You were dreaming.”
“I was?”
“You said you missed him.”
It hurt as much as the first day. I hadn’t moved on from Oliver’s death; I had just learned to live without him. The pain never went away. I still struggled to talk about it.
“Do you want your gifts?” I sat up and reached into the bedside cabinet for Thomas’ stocking.
“I’m sorry,” he smiled weakly as we swapped gifts. “I just want you to have a good day. I know it’s going to be hard.”
“It will. But I’m spending the day with you. It can't be anything but perfect.”
We piled the gift bags into the back of Thomas’ car and climbed in. It was tradition in the Radley household to spend Christmas together, and I was a part of that.
We pulled up outside his parents’ house and struggled with the bags up the long path to the front door. Thomas’ mother, Francesca, opened the door and I felt underdressed in my jeans and knitted jumper when I saw she was dressed for dinner. Thomas shook his head in exasperation, but kissed her warmly on the cheek. He had dressed casually, too, in jeans and the cream jumper I bought him for Christmas. The cream made his eyes the colour of strong coffee and I had spent most of the morning lost in them as he talked animatedly.
“Merry Christmas,” she sang. She was a Christmas person. “Everyone is here already. You missed the Buck’s Fizz.” She paused and looked back at us, “Wow, you two look good together.”
Before we could respond, Thomas’ legs were trapped by limbs of children. His two nephews, Tommy and Jake. They were his sister, Ava, and her husband’s children and they soon followed to greet us with Martin, Thomas’ father.
“Uncle Tom!” The boys cried, tugging on his jeans and covering the denim in snot and melted chocolate.
“If you don’t get off, you won't get your gifts,” he laughed as they dropped to the floor and looked up at him, grinning.
“They’re great boys,” I said to Ava as we helped Fran clean up after dinner.
“Thank you, we got lucky,” she laughed. “You better hope the well behaved gene is in the Radley DNA.”
I chuckled uncomfortably and agreed, and scrubbed harder with the drying cloth. Kids weren’t going to happen. It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about it, I had. I got broody like every other woman and I had maternal instincts, I knew I did. Those instincts were just overshadowed by my past and replaced with the fear of failing like my mother did. I was scarred. I wouldn’t have children because, like my mother, I didn’t deserve them. I pushed the thoughts aside and watched Thomas, marvelling at his excitement as he helped the boys open their gifts. Tommy and Jake were the reason he was so excited about Christmas.
Ava and Kevin lived in Jersey and the only way we would see them would be to holiday there, and we hadn’t yet. He was good with kids, naturally paternal, which no doubt came from him being a bit of a goofball, and he spent the day playing with the Scalextric we bought the boys.
He had a great family; relaxed and happy around each other. Francesca and Martin were affectionate, the kind of behaviour I was afraid of before I met Thomas. I had happy memories of my family, each one vague and clouded, and I couldn’t be sure if they were real or just what I wanted to believe.
“It’s getting late.”
Thomas stood from the sofa and held his hand out for me. I was tired, emotionally exhausted from having to pretend I wasn’t dying inside, wishing Oliver was here to celebrate with us. Tommy and Jake were in bed in Thomas’ old room and we had been snuggled on the sofa talking.
“Will you be here for New Year?” Fran asked as everyone stood and we made our way to the front door.
“We’ve got a company celebration,” Thomas said. “I’ve got to go and show Skye’s boss who the real boss is.”
I smacked the top of his arm and turned to his parents.
“Thank you for having me over today.”
“Nonsense,” Martin waved his hand in dismissal, much like Thomas had a habit of doing when he deemed thanks unnecessary. “You’re part of the family now.”
My chest tightened and my eyes blurred until Ava pulled me in for a hug. I had a chance to rein in the emotion with my head in the crook of her neck before she freed me.
“Anyone who puts up with Thomas is family in our books. Let’s get together.”
“Definitely,” as long as she didn’t bring up kids again.
We said our goodbyes and Thomas held my hand as he led me to the car.
“That’s another year you’ve survived a Radley Christmas.” He said as he pulled away from the house.
“I love your family.”
“I’m just sorry yours aren’t around to see how amazing you are.”
“Thomas-”
“I know. We don’t talk about it. Just know that you can, if you need to. I'm not going anywhere.”
“Thank you.”
There was a long silence as I watched the streets go by from the window of the car.
“I miss them all,” I spoke quietly, unsure if I really wanted to say it. “I never understood what happe
ned. One minute we were happy and the next, it all fell apart. I miss Oliver the most. He didn’t choose to leave me, he was taken. I'm not the same Skye I was back then and that’s why I don’t talk about it. I repressed it so I could survive.”
“I would love any form of you. I would have fallen for you no matter what,” he pulled my hand onto his lap, but I kept my eyes on the world outside. “Is that what you do now? Survive?”
“It’s what I did for a long time. It wasn’t about living, it was about surviving. It was about making it through each day. How could I live, when Oliver couldn’t?”
“Have you ever thought about living for both of you?”
I turned to him and leaned over to kiss his cheek.
“I do live. With you. I never thought I’d have that.”
“You’ll always have it.”
I nodded. For once, I didn’t feel like eventually, he would leave me too.
Twenty Four
Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind…Damn auld Lang Syne.
New Year’s Eve, 2009.
“I love your curves.”
Thomas made me jump as I arranged the cushions on the sofa and I turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, watching me. He was dressed for the party and biting his bottom lip. He looked utterly fuckable and charming; his usual self, and I loved it.
“Thank you,” I turned slowly to give him a show. “Are you ready?”
“I am. Come here.”
I stepped into his arms and accepted the kiss that made his lips the same deep red as my lipstick. I wiped it away with my thumb.
“No game tonight,” I said, keeping my eyes on his mouth. I slid my hand down and cupped him through his trousers. He hardened instantly. “I want to know that I can have you whenever, however, wherever.”
“As you wish,” he covered my hand with his and we stroked him together. “The car is outside.”
I dropped to my knees and took our hands away; my teeth grazed the outline of his hard cock, constricted in his trousers. He hummed and I heard him swallow.
“No rules tonight,” I stood up, tapped his chest and left the room.
“Nina.”
Thomas and I approached my boss, surrounded by her guests. Thomas held his hand at the bottom of my back and I caressed my champagne flute. It was our usual position; it showed other women he was taken and it showed other men I wasn’t interested. It showed neither of us were available for conversation that wasn’t professional. We didn’t want anyone bursting our bubble without permission.
“Here she is!” Nina pulled me away and squashed me to her. “Beautiful dress. I told you Bruno was the man for you.”
“You know what you’re talking about,” Nina had recommended Bruno to me and he gave me a black cocktail dress. It was simple and classy. “You’ve met Thomas.”
I stepped back to him, but Nina smothered him before we could resume our position.
“I have,” she held him at arm’s length. “Mr Radley, you get better looking every time I see you.”
“No one’s looking at me, Nina. Your beauty lights up the room,” he kissed her hand, then her cheek and I shook my head, smiling. Charmer. “A great party as always.”
Nina winked. She knew she’d rocked it; she always did. She threw the biggest New Year’s Eve party every year; the best money could buy. Champagne, h’ordeuvres, live music, chandeliers, a mixologist and a bar that sparkled black and gold. All set out in the grand estate that was The Bertolli Household. Even when she was married, the estate was named after her. Nina and Thomas could no doubt charm the pants off each other all night. I was still socially awkward; I had never been able to play the charm game with Thomas. He simply ensnared me and I never wanted him to let me go. But it was time to take him back from my boss.
“Come on,” I took his hand. “Nina, you’re in demand, and I owe my boyfriend a dance.”
Nina purred playfully and clawed at Thomas’ arm as I pulled him away and to the dancefloor.
“I’m not sure who won the bet,” Thomas said taking me into his arms. “She’s quite…rabid.”
I gave him the ‘I told you so’ look and settled into his embrace. We fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle, his 6’1 a perfect match for my 5’7 and he settled his hand on the bottom of my back as we laced our hands together on his chest.
“We get to start another year together,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of my head.
“We’ll end another one together, too.”
He sighed with relief and we danced in silence as the rest of the party disappeared. I hated that he did that, waited for me to leave him. I knew it was my fault because I was waiting for him to do the same. I looked different on the outside; I had money, a career and the life many strive for. But I was still the same girl from the turn of the century, lost and frightened. Only I wasn’t alone anymore. I had Thomas and I had to show him how important he was.
The guests gathered in the centre of the hall as the countdown began. Everyone counted, waiting for the new year to arrive, but I turned to face Thomas. I looked into his eyes as he counted down to the beginning of our next year together. His eyes shone, his smile made him appear younger and his hands held mine like he didn’t want to let go. It was always like that when I looked at him. It felt like magic, every time. The clock struck midnight and the cheers erupted, but I didn’t cheer. I didn’t celebrate. I reached up and kissed Thomas. I tried to show him, without saying the words, that I loved him and I was in it for life.
I stepped back and opened my eyes, but I didn’t look at Thomas. A familiar face was just behind him, stood still in the middle of the celebrating crowd. His face no doubt matched mine. Confusion. Shock. Pain.
“Skye?” Thomas called.
I looked up at him, remembering where I was, but when I returned my gaze, the face was gone.
“One minute,” I squeezed his hand and took off, running through the party as I looked for him. I didn’t know where to go; I simply let my feet guide me.
I stopped outside the house, but I was alone. I saw nothing. No evidence from the past that had reared its ugly head to remind me how much I hurt. I scanned the front yard and called out, again and again.
“Curtis!”
Twenty Five
I wasn’t stalking. You couldn’t stalk someone you couldn’t find. You couldn’t stalk a ghost.
October, 2003.
The Ford Fiesta was good. I expected a shit wagon when I only paid six hundred pounds for it, but Berta – yes, I named her – and I were good friends. Companions. Lone rangers on the endless roads we travelled together.
I pulled up in a parking space and killed the engine. I checked the name of the place against the leaflet in my hand and I climbed out of the car when I had confirmed I was in the right place.
I was nervous. I always got nervous before the next part. I was hopeful, but prepared for disappointment. If I didn’t have hope, I would have given up a long time ago.
I walked towards the building and swung open the door. It smelled of sweat and I heard the rhythmic pounding I had come to rely on hearing to keep me motivated.
“Hi,” I croaked to the nearest beef cake. “I’m looking for someone, can you help me?”
“Sure. What does a little thing like you want with someone in here?”
Asshole.
“I’m looking for a fighter called Cut Throat. Does he train here?”
“I don’t think so,” he waved to one of the two men in the ring. “TJ?! Anyone called Cut Throat here?”
TJ looked around and shook his head. The other guy turned back to me.
“You’re out of luck. Anything I can help you with, sweetheart?”
“No thanks,” I stopped at the door before leaving. “Your stance is shit. Float like a butterfly, asshole.”
I didn’t bother looking back. I headed straight to the car and picked up the next flyer, adding the last one to the rapidly growing pile on the back seat.
Twenty Six
Some people have sex to forget. Some to remember. Some to feel…. I wanted it all.
New Year’s Day, sometime after midnight, 2010.
I was out of breath when I walked back into the house. I had called Curtis’ name until my throat was sore, but he wasn’t there. I didn’t know why I wanted to find him, I just felt like I had to. I should have been angry - he disappeared; he left me like everyone else. I spent months looking for him to find nothing. I scoured every boxing and MMA gym I could find, but he was gone. He just disappeared from the circuit without as much as “I’m still alive”. I got angrier with every step I took. He was there, he saw me, and he ran away after making sure I saw him. I was so angry I clenched my fists until they shook. I wanted to find him, just to punch him; to get the satisfaction of making him feel even a tiny bit of the pain he’d made me feel.
“Skye,” I walked straight into Thomas. In my erratic state, I didn’t see him. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he took hold of my elbow and steered me back outside. “What happened?”
I paced the front porch, trying to calm myself down.
“Remember what I said about my past? About how I’m different now?” He nodded, “Well, I lived fifty miles away from here and someone from my old town just turned up… It made me forget who I am for a minute.”
He opened his mouth to talk, but I held my finger to his lips.
“If you want to talk, we’ll talk. But right now-” I shimmied out of my underwear and tucked it in his jacket pocket, “-find us the nearest surface.”
He gave me the look; the one that questioned my motives. I gave my own look back; one that told him I wanted him, and I smoothed his jacket down.
“I told you. Whenever, however, wherever.”
I tugged his lapels and pulled him towards me, crashing my lips to his and tasting the brandy on his tongue as mine sneaked out to explore.
Survival (Twisted Book 1) Page 10