“Other than the stitches, I’m fine. Anyway, forget about her, when are you coming over to discuss your book tour?”
“I can come tomorrow.”
“You most certainly can.”
I went quiet, not sure if he was making a crude pun.
“Are you there, Kelly?”
“Yes.”
“Come tomorrow at ten, I’ll be working from home.”
I agreed and said bye, then went out to Tom, who was still sitting on the couch, but alone. He looked up at me in expectation.
“Eric will advance us ten grand on Thursday,” I said.
Tom breathed out, looking relieved. “And the hotelier?”
“He will contact you soon.”
Tom smiled. “Looks like Eric’s a genuine bloke after all.” He lifted his fork up as I sat down. “It was lucky we met him; I just wish it didn’t come with that crazy woman and his cock.”
“Tom!” I looked towards the door, hoping the kids didn’t hear. Luckily they weren’t there. “Keep your voice down.”
He smiled at me sheepishly, then took another bite of his food.
I breathed out. “Though, you’re right about Natalija being crazy. She’s spreading lies about Eric attacking her.”
Tom stopped chewing his food. “You believe him?”
“He’s the one who was attacked. He had to have stitches, because she threw a vase at him.”
Tom shook his head. “I fu...” He stopped talking as Remy walked into the room, although I knew he was going to say ‘fucked.’ He continued, “...a bunny boiler. Anyway, you need to get back to your writing.”
I smiled, surprised he’d said that. He hated me writing, but I guessed it was finally paying off.
“And I need to read your book now it’s earned a million dollars.”
My face fell. “That was for a three book deal,” I said, not wanting him to read any of my writing, especially my first novel.
“I promised I would read your book if you made a million.”
“I’m telling you, it’s not just one book.”
“Book, books, I don’t care, I promised, so give me your first one.”
“I don’t want you to read it.”
“Why?”
“It’s not your type of book,” plus one of the characters is based on your mother.
“I’m still going to read it. You proved me wrong about making a living from writing, and I’m glad you did.”
“I still don’t want you reading it.”
“We want a lot of things.” He smiled. “But you’re not going to win this argument, because it’s happening.”
“I’ll give it to you when all the money comes through.” I pushed up and went to our bedroom, hoping he’d forgive me for a million dollars.
25
I knocked on Eric’s front door, taking a step back as his son answered it. Tate leaned against the door frame with a leer on his too perfect face. “Hello again,” he said. “Have you come back to take up my offer?”
“No, I’m here to see your father.”
“Why do you want to see that cunt?”
I grimaced. “Don’t call your father that.”
He sneered at me. “I can call him whatever the hell I like, love.” He pushed past me, heading for a red convertible, no doubt paid by his father. Ungrateful brat. I watched him get in. Seconds later, he planted his foot on the accelerator, jetting off down the driveway. I shook my head and stepped inside the house, calling out for Eric. When he didn’t reply, I closed the door behind me and called out again.
No one answered.
I checked the main ballroom, which was empty, then headed for the staircase, slowly walking up it. “Eric?” I repeated.
No answer.
Feeling like I was imposing, I entered the sitting room, finding no one. Noise came from the passageway that led to the bedrooms. I headed towards it, stopping as Eric stepped out of a room, wearing only a towel.
His pale eyes went to me, his expression surprised “You’re early.” He looked past me, as though he expected someone to be standing there, maybe the butler. “How did you get in?”
“Your son,” I said, silently cursing myself for coming upstairs.
“Where is he?”
“He left.” A door closed downstairs, making me wonder whether he’d returned.
“He’s probably forgotten something.” Eric walked up to me, his state of undress causing my nerves to double. “Can you help bandage my wounds?” He turned around, showing me his back.
My eyes widened at the angry red marks between his shoulder-blades. “That’s pretty bad.”
“It’ll heal.” He gestured for me to follow him into his room. “I would’ve gotten Gerard to do it, but I gave him the morning off.”
I nodded, nervous about being alone with him, the bed where we’d slept together looking so big.
He pulled out the bandages and scissors from the bedside cabinet, placing them on top of it, then laid down on his front.
Sitting down next to him, I cut some bandages and plastered them over his wounds. “All done,” I said, relieved when I’d finished.
He pushed up and grabbed my face, brushing his lips against mine. “Thank you,” he mumbled, his breath smelling of alcohol.
I removed his hands from my face and pulled back. “You’ve been drinking.”
“Only a little.”
“You shouldn’t be drinking at all.”
“I shouldn’t be doing a lot of things,” he said, his expression unapologetic, “but I still do them.”
“But why?”
He leaned forward to kiss me.
I jerked my head to the side. “No, Eric.”
He went to kiss me again. I pushed up, now just wanting to leave.
He got to his feet and dropped the towel. “Bend over my bed.”
“No.” I went to turn.
He grabbed my arm. “Tom won’t mind.”
I pulled free. “Yes, he would.”
“Then why did he give me permission to fuck you? Because if you were mine, I would never allow another man to touch you.”
“Tom does love me,” I said, hurt by his words.
“I never said he didn’t—but I love you more.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Don’t tell me what I feel!” he yelled, making me jolt. He glared at me for a moment, then turned and walked to his cabinet, pulling out briefs. After slipping them on, he headed for his wardrobe. He snatched a pair of pants off a hanger and yanked them on, his movements jerky and angry. He threw another glare at me. “Why are you still here?” he snapped.
“Sorry,” I headed for the door, feeling like I was the one in the wrong, not Eric. I’d entered his house without his permission, invading his privacy.
I hurriedly walked through the passage, stopping at the top of the staircase as Eric called out for me to wait. He appeared a moment later, still shirtless and with his fly undone.
“I’m sorry, I don’t want you to go,” he said. “Please forgive me.”
“No, I’ve imposed, I should leave.” I turned to the stairs, letting out a startled cry as he yanked me back.
His hands moved to my shoulders. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said, directing me into the sitting room.
I tried to turn around. “Eric!”
He pushed me onto the couch, blocking me as I went to get up. “You just wait here, while I get us a drink.”
“No. I don’t drink, and you shouldn’t either, so move out of my way.”
“I also shouldn’t love you, but I still do.”
I stared at him, still finding it hard to believe his words. He hadn’t known me long enough to fall in love.
Hurt crossed his eyes. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”
The memory of a young Tom telling me he loved me came to mind. He’d been hurt when I didn’t reply instantly, but I had loved him, still did, whereas Eric ... I liked him a lot, thought he was incredibly lovely, b
ut I wasn’t in love with him.
“I guess my feelings aren’t reciprocated.” Eric walked over to a cabinet and opened it, pulling out a bottle of vodka.
I followed him and took the bottle out of his hand. “Why are you drinking again?”
Pain crossed his features. “I caused my wife to kill herself.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“How the hell would you know?!”
I jolted, not expecting such anger.
He pulled a face. “I’m sorry.” He breathed out, looking like he was trying to get himself under control.
“Let’s go to the couch and talk about it.” I directed him over to it, sitting him down next to me. He reached for the bottle I was still holding. “No, Eric,” I said, moving it out of his reach, “you don’t need it, it’s bad for you.”
He reached over me and yanked it out of my hand. “Alcohol’s not the problem, life is.” He uncapped it and took a swig, watching me as he did it, as though he was challenging me to stop him.
“Tell me what’s wrong, Eric?”
He removed the bottle from his mouth. “I have a psychotic female stalking me, my youngest son hates me, and the only woman I want is taken. And the love of my life died exactly five years ago.” He took another swig.
I took a hold of the bottle again. “Give it to me.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I suggest you let go or I will give it to you.”
I let go, knowing he meant sex. “Then, if you wish to ruin your life, that’s your choice.”
I rose to my feet and headed for the staircase again. Before I reached it, Eric grabbed me from behind and spun me around. He pushed me up against the wall, imbedding his body into mine.
“Eric!” I yelled, trying to get free. “Let me go!”
He lifted his hands up, but kept his body pressed firmly against mine. “I’m not touching you.”
“Yes, you are!” I shoved at his shoulders. “Move back.”
Not budging, he yanked my arms down and locked them to my side. “Why?” He rubbed his groin against me. “We’ve fucked before, and I told you I’d take you whenever I wanted, because Tom approved.”
“He did not, and we’ve already been over this!”
“He let me sleep with you all on my lonesome,” he said, kissing my neck.
“Eric! Let go!”
He did, surprising me, but only for a second. Stepping back, he pulled his cock out of his pants. “Now, strip so I can fuck you while I’m clothed.”
“I already told you no.”
“Then I’ll get naked.” He shoved his pants and underwear down, kicking them off.
I went to move for the staircase.
He moved faster, blocking my way. “You screamed my name, not his.”
“I was in the middle of having sex with you, that’s why.”
“Well, I want to hear you scream my name again.”
I shook my head, his body beautiful, but his nature ugly right now.
“If you don’t want sex, then show me your tits,” he said.
“No, Eric.”
“I’ve seen them before. Just one look and I’ll stop.” He raised his eyebrows. “One look.” He started running his hand up and down his cock, his actions scaring the hell out of me. “Come on, Kelly, I’m not asking for much. Show me your tits. Flash them.”
I shook my head.
“I won’t stop until you do.”
I went to move past him, the man drunk and beyond reason. Again, he moved faster. He pushed me up against the wall and kissed me.
I shoved at his shoulders, but he kissed me harder, one of his hands burrowing under my skirt. He grabbed my knickers and ripped them off, the material flimsy. My “No!” was stifled as he continued to kiss me, the man smothering my mouth.
He picked me up and sat me on the small cabinet by the passage doorway, prodding my entrance with his hard cock. “Fuck, I love you,” he said against my mouth.
“STOP!” I screamed, hitting out at him, full blown panic now taking over.
He jerked back, appearing confused, then a dawning look of realisation crossed his face, as though he’d finally realised that he was forcing me. “Oh God,” he said. “Please forgive me.”
A noise came from my left, capturing my attention. Natalija was standing a few steps down the staircase, staring up at us. She smiled, although she appeared far from happy, if anything she looked like she wanted to kill me. “Does your husband know you’re fucking my man?” she said.
“I’m not your man!” Eric snapped, his eyes blazing again. “So, get the hell out of my house.”
She focused her cruel smile on him. “I will, and right into Tom’s bed after he finds out what his wife’s been doing, or who she’s doing.”
“It’s not like that,” I said.
“I know, I saw it all. Eric was being a very naughty boy.” She lifted up her phone. “But it doesn’t look like that on here. By the way, guess what I texted Tom?”
My heart stopped while my head screamed. “I didn’t want it!” I yelled. “I told Eric no.”
“It looks like a yes on here,” she replied.
I took off past her, barrelling down the staircase, needing to get to Tom as soon as possible, desperate to explain that I didn’t cheat.
Eric and Natalija started yelling at each other, but I didn’t care—all I cared about was getting to Tom.
26
TOM
I smiled as I hung up the phone, thinking things were finally working out. My business partner, as well as best mate, looked at me with a quizzical expression. We were in our caravan office, both of us sitting at our desks.
I held my mobile phone up. “Looks like my wife came through.”
“On what?” Dillon asked, pushing his messy blond hair back, which he refused to cut, since his wife said it made him look like Jax from Sons of Anarchy.
“That hotelier just rang. He’s interested in seeing me about building his hotel in Tauranga.”
Dillon’s face lit up. “Fucking A, man! Well, you better win this contract, ’cause we desperately need a big job to get us out of this shithole we’re in.”
I nodded, definitely agreeing with that. We’d been treading water over the past couple of years, but lately we’d been sinking, and if it wasn’t for that advance Kelly had gotten, the shit would’ve hit the fan, bankruptcy a distinct possibility.
My phone beeped, the number making me scowl. Natalija again. I clicked open the message to tell her to stop texting, then froze, the image on the screen paralysing me. A naked Eric was holding my wife on a cabinet, looking like he was fucking her.
I shook my head, not believing my eyes, not wanting to believe them either. Kelly wasn’t a cheat, but what I was seeing wasn’t a figment of my imagination. Dillon said something, but I couldn’t take it in, the image robbing me of my senses. The word karma flashed across my mind. When I’d fucked Mrs. Andrews as a teenager, I hadn’t given a shit about her husband. Now I was the husband, the one being betrayed, the one utterly devastated.
Unable to handle seeing Kelly like that, I pushed out of my chair and threw my phone at the wall, yelling out in rage. I knew that fucking prick Eric Firth was trouble the first time I saw him stare at Kelly, but I’d ignored my gut instinct, allowing him to bullshit me, to lead me around like some stupid fucking moron, while he screwed my wife right under my nose and behind my back. All that shit about getting together for that night. I bet he’d set it up so Natalija took me out of the room, leaving him and Kelly to fuck each other, and I had stupidly allowed it. I didn’t want to do Natalija, I wanted to be with Kelly, had always wanted to be with her, but I had still left the room with that blonde bitch like a fucking lemming. And Kelly had stayed. Had she planned it too? Had she been screwing around with Eric all this time, playing me for a fool?
Dillon touched my arm, snapping me out of my enraged thoughts. I yanked my arm away from my best mate, someone Kelly thought was an idiot. Yeah, he was at times, but he wa
s still a good mate, someone who was loyal to me. He never lied like Kelly had, and was always there when I needed him—unlike my wife. I worked hard all day, yet when I got home she was usually glued to the computer, more concerned about her writing than spending time with me. It hurt, but I put up with it because I loved her. And now she did this. I still couldn’t believe it. Not my sweet Kelly. She may have omitted the truth about her work, but that was her writing, not a fucking affair.
“I’ve got to go,” I said, heading for the door.
“Tom, you have to tell me what’s happened,” Dillon said, his blue eyes concerned. “Is it your daughter?”
I stopped in my tracks, realising he probably thought Nicky had gotten hurt again, but the only person who was hurt was me. “She’s fine, but I’m not.” I ran a hand over my head. “I wish I’d never gone to that bloody sex club.”
He frowned. “Is that woman bothering you again?”
I gripped onto my hair. “She sent a text of Eric fucking Kelly.” I breathed out. “Kelly’s cheating on me.”
Dillon’s blond eyebrows shot up. “You can’t be serious?”
“I saw it with my own eyes. That English prick was naked and had Kelly up against a cabinet, fucking her.” I shook my head, my chest hurting like hell. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Dillon placed a hand on my shoulder. “Come sit down.”
“No.” I sidestepped him and headed for the door again.
Dillon followed me out of the caravan. I opened my ute and got behind the wheel, needing to get out of here.
“What are you going to do?” Dillon asked, staring at me through my window.
“The only thing I can.”
“What?”
“Pack.”
***
Her car wasn’t home, but I didn’t expect it to be. Eric was probably still fucking her while fucking ruining my life. I got out of my ute and opened the gate, heading up the path. It felt like I was dying inside, and it wasn’t a cli-fucking-ché. My chest was hurting while my heart was shattering into a thousand jagged pieces—karma soul destroying.
I opened the front door, stopping for a moment in the doorway. As usual, the house was a mess, and for the first time I didn’t give a shit. All I cared about was that I wasn’t going to be living with my family anymore. Although this wasn’t my fault, I knew I would be the one who would have to leave. Life wasn’t fucking fair, love was even worse. I’d been with Kelly for twenty years and within a month of her knowing Eric she had ruined it all.
Overwhelmed Page 23