He’d had his wish. And he wouldn’t have changed it.
She was…she was… Christ, he couldn’t even say how she made him feel. It had been so long since he’d felt anything other than disgust with himself and an intermittent desire to be dead, that he’d forgotten how to be normal. She hadn’t recognized him and she hadn’t been pretending. He’d had plenty of women try that. Summer treated him as if he were any other guy. She’d made him laugh, made him forget. She’d been open and honest. He’d tried to do the right thing and let her go, but he hadn’t been able to resist putting his phone number inside her book of clouds. He was the biggest, blackest, most dangerous cloud in there. He needed her to let him go. And she hadn’t.
I like her. I like her a lot.
By the time he’d parked outside Saul’s place, his drug-fueled confidence had grown to the point that he’d convinced himself he’d be back outside in a moment with the key to the cage and driving away.
He walked to the door without bothering with his coat. Marta came to answer the bell and he was enveloped in a far more dangerous black cloud that reeked of Ralph Lauren’s Notorious. She wore a long white dress with a deep V at the front and split down the sides, her makeup flawless, her hair pulled back from her face so tightly that her eyes looked slightly Asian.
“Jai, darling.” She kissed his cheeks and her gaze dropped below his waist. She lifted his shirt and smiled before she tugged him inside. “You look lovely.”
“So do you.” The words came automatically. So much for him walking straight out.
“Tuck your shirt in, sweetie,” she said.
Jai did as he was told and she let out a long sigh.
“You do have the key?” He wanted to know where it was.
She pulled at a chain around her neck. The key was on the end.
Marta put her arm through his. “A party for three. I’ve been desperate to see you.”
Whereas if Jai never saw her again as long as he lived, that would make him ecstatic.
As they stepped into the immaculate lounge, looking as if it had been snatched from some designer magazine, she moved away from him toward the drinks cabinet. “Red wine?”
“Nothing, thanks,” Jai said, and both she and Saul stared at him.
He never refused alcohol.
“What would you like then?” she asked. “Vodka?”
“No, thank you.”
Saul sat on the cream leather couch, his legs stretched out in front of a fire that looked real but wasn’t. Glossy books on a coffee table he was sure they’d never opened. Jazz music that he just didn’t get in the background. Everything in the place was posed. It was a play, and Jai no longer wanted his part.
It’s not too late. Tell them.
I can’t.
What would Summer say if she saw you here? In that cage? She’d be disappointed you’d given in and put it on.
His legs shook as he moved to stand in front of Saul. “I’ve had enough.”
“Wine?” Marta trilled and brought a glass over to Saul.
Saul ignored the glass his wife offered and rose to his feet. He wasn’t as tall as Jai but he was a lot broader, a lot stronger. Jai felt desperate to step back, but held his ground.
“Is this about the stupid bitch who smacked the paddle on your back?” Saul asked. “I won’t be entertaining her and her husband again.”
“I can’t do this anymore.” Jai wished he’d accepted that drink because his mouth was desert-dry.
Saul laughed. “You’re talking as though you have any choice.”
“I do,” Jai snapped. “I have a choice, and I choose not to do it anymore.”
Saul narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Why do you think, you moron? You can’t imagine I like any of it.
“I’ve had enough.” Think of Summer. Be strong.
“You little shit,” Saul hissed, his face reddening. “You will do this. You’ll do every fucking thing I tell you to and you’ll do it without complaining because you know what will happen if you don’t.”
He stepped right into Jai’s face until their noses almost touched. “I will ruin your eldest brother. You think his wife will stay with him? Think his kids will be proud of their father? He’ll be deselected and forced to resign from the government. His face will be all over the papers. He’ll go to jail. The lives of your parents will never be the same again. Maybe the big heart attack that’s been threatening will finally kill your father.”
Jai clenched his fists, his heart pounding harder and harder, slamming thoughts of a future with Summer into a pulp.
“Think your mother will be able to face her friends at those coffee mornings and book club meetings she goes to? She won’t want to leave the house. The only one who won’t care is your twin. Richard will probably shit himself laughing. Think how you’d hate that.”
Jai knew all this. Everything. Why had he thought there was any point resisting?
“It wouldn’t stop at that.” Saul spat out the words, spittle flying from his mouth onto Jai’s face. “You’d never work again.”
The one thing he didn’t care about.
Saul held up his closed fist. “I have you here, Jai. You’re one of the most wanted models in the world. I get you the best jobs. I’ve made you what you are and I’ve made you rich. And you can get richer. Turn against me and you’ll lose everything.”
“I don’t care about the money.”
Saul gave a slow and vicious smile. “But you care about your family.”
And Jai understood that this would never end until he was dead, that there was no life for him other than this, that being with Summer would only ever be a dream.
“Drink some wine,” Saul snapped.
Jai grabbed the glass that Marta offered.
It took two large glasses acting on the drugs swirling around his bloodstream before Jai’s head buzzed loud enough to begin to drown his thoughts. He sat on the couch opposite Saul while the guy droned on about a possible job with Diamond Back razors. If he was trying to put him at ease, it wasn’t working. Marta sat with her legs draped over Jai’s lap, stroking the hard cage at his groin. His stomach churned, guilt eating at him as effectively as acid. Worse than usual because he felt guilt over Summer too. Could an ulcer kill him?
When Marta pushed a folded snip of paper containing who the hell knew what into his mouth, he swallowed it. Anything to stop him thinking or remembering or feeling. But her persistent fondling of his crotch combined with whatever the hell she’d put in the wine eventually had the desired effect and his brainless dick swelled against its cage. He felt as if his cock were being metal-worked, alternating heat and pressure ratcheting up the acute discomfort until it turned to pain, almost severe enough to make him cry out.
Marta took off her clothes and then his, and Jai sat there trying not to yelp, trying not to plead with her to take off the cage. It was hard to breathe when his groin was on fire. Fucking dragon.
“Oh my god, you look gorgeous,” Marta whispered. “Look, Saul.”
Jai’s hand was on the cage, desperate to rip it off and free his cock, knowing he physically couldn’t and cursing his idiocy.
He let Marta push him into doing what she wanted, his fingers rubbing her clit while she writhed against him, and suddenly he liked the pain of the metal biting into him. It reminded him that he was a fool, that he didn’t deserve any better than this.
Unaware of the cage being removed, he lay between them on the rug in front of the fire that wasn’t a fire. Then his cock was in Marta and Saul’s cock was in him. With every thrust he hated himself a little bit more, until the moment came when he didn’t even have enough brain capacity to hate, only to fuck. He shifted his hips faster and faster, forcing her to come, forcing himself to come, feeling nothing but thoughts of self-destruction. And when the world finally faded, he hoped he never woke up.
* * * * *
Summer lay on her back in bed, wondering what Jai was doing. She’d not spoken to him si
nce Thursday night—well, Friday morning. Her two calls had gone unanswered, as had her text. She wasn’t too worried. He’d said he was working and she didn’t want to turn into one of those insanely jealous types who freaked out if any woman came near him. He’d warned her what his life was like.
Yesterday had been a whirlwind of last-minute preparation. She’d helped where she could, though not in the katas. On a trip to Canterbury, she’d managed to find a little black dress to wear at the rehearsal dinner last night, which hadn’t been the ordeal she’d expected, probably because she’d been put at the end of the table away from her immediate family. Not even Baxter had been allowed to sit near her. Tim’s groomsmen, both of whom were married, had sat on either side of her and made her laugh with funny stories about Tim. She thought he seemed like a really lovely guy. All she wanted was for Angie to be happy.
Now it was the day of the wedding and Summer prayed to a god she didn’t believe in that nothing went wrong, not even the weather, because if anything did, she suspected she’d somehow get the blame. If it rained, she definitely would.
She rolled out of bed, washed and dressed in her jeans and headed through a new fall of snow to the house to see what she could do to help. When she walked into the kitchen, she saw breakfast was over. The table was strewn with dirty plates and cups and only Pippa was in there.
“How’s Angie?” Summer asked and braced herself.
“Fine. The hairdresser’s upstairs with her and the photographer.”
Summer flicked on the kettle and started to load the dishwasher.
“Thanks for the jewelry and stuff,” Pippa said.
“That’s okay.” Summer had her back toward her sister and risked a smile.
“I’ve put the coffee in the chest freezer in the barn.”
“That’s supposed to be the best way to store it.” She took a deep breath. “How’s your job going?”
“Busy. Long hours.”
Pippa was a lawyer for one of the golden circle firms in the city. She had a first-class honors degree from Oxford University. Angie had a first from Durham and was a barrister, and Baxter had a first from Leeds and a master’s from Cambridge in physics. Summer’s 2.1 in meteorology from Reading had been hard-won but never mentioned by her mother.
“There you are,” said the woman in question, sweeping into the kitchen in her embroidered silk gown and turban, a battleship in full regalia. “I wondered how long you were going to laze around in bed. Here’s your list.”
She handed Summer a strip of paper.
Ironing in utility room
Hairdresser in family bathroom 11.30
Dress is in your room over barn. Be ready in the house by 12.15
Leave at 12.30
“Morning, folks.” Her brother strolled in with wet hair.
He earned another glare from her mother. “Here’s your list.”
Baxter whipped the paper from her hand and scanned it. “Want to check I’ve washed behind my ears?”
Summer laughed and then gaped when her mother actually checked.
“Mum,” Baxter protested and her mother laughed. Oh god, she actually laughed.
“Breakfast?” he asked hopefully.
“Go and check the flowers have arrived then you can have breakfast.”
“Slave driver,” he muttered under his breath as he walked out.
“Does anything need doing in the kata?” Summer asked. She’d been expressly forbidden from going inside.
“No, that’s all in hand.”
“What about Angie? Does she need any help?”
Her mother gave her such a look that Summer cringed. But then she was annoyed with herself. She’d bent so far over backward to be accommodating that she was in danger of getting stuck that way. What was the point?
“Leave Angie alone,” her mother said.
“I thought bridesmaids were supposed to help the bride. Oh, but that isn’t why I’m a bridesmaid. Dad persuaded you, and you just didn’t want it to look bad by leaving me out. But I wish you had. You’re being cruel and I don’t deserve it.”
Oh fuck, did I say all that? She walked out of the room without even making her coffee and went into the utility. The pile of ironing was big enough to bury her.
Once she was certain the coast was clear, she snuck back into the kitchen for a cup of coffee and toasted a couple rounds of bread on the Aga. She doubted she’d get anything to eat until they came back after the wedding. She’d seen her mother’s list. Canapés and champagne at three.
Pippa slipped in as Summer finished ironing the last garment. “You’re right. She is being cruel and you don’t deserve it.”
Summer turned to face her and Pippa pulled her into her arms. “You just have to let Angie have this day and no matter how hard it is, ignore Mum and try to enjoy it. Angie got herself into a state after what happened. Give her time. She’ll come ’round.”
“Mum won’t.”
“She just wants life to be perfect and it isn’t. No one can live up to her expectations, even her. She is proud of you but she’d never tell you. When you did that TV interview about global warming, she told everyone.”
“And moaned about what I wore and because I fiddled with my button.”
Pippa laughed. “But she’d have moaned no matter what you wore. Right, up you go, Cinders. Your hairdresser awaits.”
Summer made her way upstairs to the bathroom. Her hair looked fine.
When Toni walked in, Summer laughed. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“You should have guessed.”
He was right. “I think mine’s okay.”
He twisted a lock that had flopped over her forehead. “Maybe a little more spiky would suit you better. Give it a wash.”
Summer unclipped the shower from over the tub and did as she was told. Having her hair messed around with by Toni was as much relaxation as she was going to get until Jai arrived.
“How’s Angie?” she asked.
“Beautiful.”
“Good.”
“The makeup lady is with her now. She doesn’t need it. Neither do you. Good genes in your family.”
He dried her hair and conversation ceased. She dreaded today. The only thing that made it bearable was knowing Jai was coming. But she should have told him about what happened last time so he knew what he was walking into. She’d tell him before someone else did. And she’d tell him all of it.
“Okay, you’re done,” Toni said and switched off his straighteners.
Summer looked in the mirror and smiled. The slightly untidy style made her look younger and cheeky. Her mother would probably hate it.
“It looks great, Toni. Thank you.”
“Enjoy the day.”
Summer hurried back to her room, noting the snow had been blown from the drive and a wide path cleared to the katas. Freestanding lanterns had been placed along the route. She changed direction and walked down the path toward the tent. Catering staff bustled between it and a couple of vans. A small marquee labeled “cloakroom” had been erected on the side lawn and behind it was a mobile toilet unit. She kept walking until she was at the point of entering the central kata and then turned back. Maybe Angie didn’t want her to see it in case she jinxed it or something.
Once she was in her room, she took out her phone and called Jai. It was about sixty miles to Chilham from Notting Hill, so he should have set off. His phone clicked straight through to voicemail. Summer didn’t leave a message.
He isn’t going to come.
Yes, he is. He promised.
But her doubts began to multiply.
She put on a small amount of makeup, just blusher and mascara, and slipped on the dress that someone had brought over. She’d never been a bridesmaid before, but she was pretty sure getting ready was something you all did together and had fun doing while you drank champagne and…
An iron fist clamped around her heart.
Another reminder that Angie didn’t want her there. Shar
ds of pain radiated through her chest until she gasped. Whatever Summer did, it wouldn’t be right. Part of her wanted to run; the other part of her was stronger. Just.
The dress fit perfectly but the matching shoes were tight. Nothing she could do about that. Nothing she could do about any of this. She could cope with anything knowing Jai was coming.
As she made her way down the stairs, she spotted the box of butterflies lying at the bottom. She sighed and carried them back up to her room.
Once outside, the wind made her shudder as she hurried across the yard to the back door. Her father popped his head out of the kitchen as she passed.
“Another princess? How did I get to be so lucky?” He kissed her lightly on the cheek.
Summer straightened his silver tie. “How did I get so lucky to have such a handsome dad?”
He’d aged well, better than her mother. Gray hair suited him, and he was still slim and fit.
“Don’t let me stop you. Apart from Baxter, who’s gone to pick up his wonderful, marvelous, beautiful girlfriend Rose from the station, they’re all up there drinking champagne.”
Of course they were.
Summer took his arm and pulled him back into the kitchen. A tumbler with a shot of amber liquid sat on the table. “Scotch, Dad? Nervous?”
“Are you going to believe its apple juice?” he asked.
“No.”
“Guilty as charged. Want one?”
“Too strong for me. I’d stumble up the aisle hiccupping. I mustn’t put a foot wrong today.” She took a deep breath and exhaled noisily.
“Are you happy, Summer?”
The band around her chest tightened and she made herself smile. “I’m fine. Are you happy?”
“I’m getting rid of a daughter at huge expense. I couldn’t be happier.”
“I’ll elope when it’s my turn.”
He kissed her on the cheek. “That’s my girl. Now go upstairs and play nicely.”
“Yes, Dad.”
Summer knocked on the door of Angie’s room and Pippa opened it.
“Where’ve you been? We’re already halfway through the champagne.”
Summer took the glass offered and tried not to drink it all in one gulp. She stared at Angie and sighed. “You look lovely.”
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