Lying in Shadows

by Sofia Grey

  “You told Joni that AJ was bored with her. That he’d been messing around with you.”

  “You can’t prove that. It’s my word against hers. She’s always been a liar.”

  “You threatened to tell AJ he wasn’t the father of her baby.”

  His words sank in. “What are you on about?”

  “Mate, I hate to tell you, but it probably wasn’t your kid.”

  Alex recognised the words, but they didn’t make sense. “What the fuck are you talking about, Charlie?”

  “She had a couple of guys on the go. While she was engaged to you.”

  Shit. Alex needed to sit down. Maz clung to his hand, and he felt her trembling, but he was unable to respond. Half-forgotten memories swamped him. “I thought I always used a condom. She told me I was stoned and forgot, but I was sure.” He dragged his gaze to Charlie’s face. “Whose was it? Who else was there?” His voice was faint.

  Charlie looked down. Scuffed his feet a little. “One of the roadies—dunno his name. And Sam.”

  “Sam?” Alex felt as though he’d been sucker punched. “She was with Sam, while she was with me? No.”

  “Sorry, but it’s true.” Charlie hesitated. “There’s something else.”

  “Jesus. What other fucking secrets do you have stashed away in there?”

  Charlie jerked his thumb at Maz, by his side. “She knew.”

  She whimpered, and Alex stared at her. “You knew? Why didn’t you say something?”

  “You dumped me,” she cried. “You dropped me like a hot potato and went running back to Joni. I loved you, but you only wanted her. You broke my heart. I was eighteen. I knew nothing.”

  “Jesus-fucking-Christ.” Alex sank his head into his hands. He wanted to block it all out. Every last fucking word of it. He’d gone from a stratospheric high, to the depths of hell, all in one evening.

  “If I could change it, mate, I would,” Charlie said. “I only found out about Joni’s baby before Sam died. He told me the story. By then it was too late to talk about it with you; it was ancient history. Why dig up the past and cause you more pain?”

  Alex swallowed the bitter lump in his throat. “So why tell me now, eh? Why, Charlie? Why wait until tonight? I really think I’d rather not know.”

  Charlie fidgeted and scuffed his feet some more. “Sylvie,” he muttered.

  “Syl? What has she got to do with this?”

  “She read us the riot act tonight. She overheard me and Mick talking about Maz, and made me tell her what really happened to you and Joni. She was pretty scary. She pointed out how friends look out for each other, and asked why the hell we didn’t stop you from picking right up with Maz again. So here we are.”

  “Sylvie put you up to this?” Anger threaded Maz’s voice. “And this wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that I suspended her from work? She probably hates me.”

  Alex was fed up of the whole situation. “Charlie, can you give us a minute alone?”

  He nodded and disappeared up the corridor.

  Maz stood there, dressed in Alex’s clothes, bare-faced and vulnerable looking. She hadn’t asked for this tsunami of shit any more than he had, but there were questions he needed answers to.

  “Please tell me the truth. Have you been having an affair with Louisa’s husband?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and wrapped her arms around her body. “It was brief. Only a couple of nights. I didn’t want to hurt her.” She swallowed. “I was seeing Marcus before you texted me. I finished with him when you and I decided to get together next weekend.”

  It sounded plausible. “Louisa is a friend. She came to me in tears, to say she thought her husband was messing around on her. And you know, the other day she came back to tell me she was so happy, her marriage was safe. And now I don’t know what to think.”

  “Things are over with Marcus, so what’s to stop us being together?” Maz gazed into his eyes. Everything about her looked innocent. God knew he wanted to believe her. “Louisa can get back with him or leave him—whichever she chooses—but it doesn’t affect what you and I have. How can it?”

  She shivered, and he remembered lending her his jacket earlier. How fantastic it felt when she watched him on stage. The plans he had.

  “AJ, if this hadn’t happened tonight, you’d have come to London next Friday, and we’d have had a brilliant weekend together. As it is, we met up a week early. Let’s make the most of it.” She held out a hand to him, her blue eyes guileless. “I loved you back then, and I’ve always loved you. For the past ten years, I’ve compared everyone to you and always found them lacking. Please don’t ruin this chance we have for happiness.”

  Alex tried to think clearly, to push past the emotions that clouded his judgement. What happened ten years ago was awful, but it was history. He could do nothing to change it. If she was really finished with Marcus, there was nothing to stop them being together, apart from the hurt for Louisa.

  He bridged the gap, took her hand, and tugged her into his arms. Her eyes widened, hope written across her face.

  “I want to try things again with you, too,” he said. “But I figure we need to take the time to get to know each other first.”

  She nodded again.

  “So let’s grab a drink and go somewhere more comfortable.”

  “I like that idea.”

  She tilted her face up, lips parted, and he ducked his head to kiss her. They met and it was sweet and delicate. Alex felt strangely detached. Like this was the biggest anti-climax ever. The passion that flared between them while they stood outside the party was gone. Dissolved in a river of angst. He was right to take things slow this time.

  “Come on,” he said and disentangled himself. “I have one thing to do first.” He led her back up to the kitchen and walked in, his arm around her. Sylvie sat there, holding hands with Rico. Charlie and Mick stood with the roadies. They all stared at Alex, and he found his voice.

  “Maz is staying with me tonight. If anyone has a problem with that, you know where the door is.”

  ****

  Marianne was exhausted. The day had been too long, and the night too stressful. She didn’t know if she was capable of a meaningful conversation with AJ. When he produced a decent bottle of Polish vodka and suggested they have a nightcap, she leaped at the chance to unwind.

  They sat together on the bed, in one of his guest bedrooms, and she sipped the spirit. Marianne closed her eyes and let the liquor warm her veins. This was good.

  “Where are you supposed to be staying tonight?” asked AJ.

  She opened her eyes again and stifled a yawn. “At Jordan’s house, but I’m not sure what reception I’d get.”

  “Stay here. You can have this room.” He stared at his drink. “I’m not the horn dog I used to be. I told you, Maz. We’re taking it slow this time.”

  “Thank you.” This time she couldn’t stop her yawn, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long day.”

  “Yeah.” AJ leaned against the headboard and coaxed her to snuggle at his side, one arm around her shoulders. “Chill. It’s nice like this.”

  “You were amazing on stage tonight.”

  “Thanks. It felt good up there.”

  “How come Sylvie was playing for you? How do you even know her?”

  “Ah... that.” He placed the untouched drink on the side table. “Jordan introduced her to me. She plays bass, and I needed someone to fill in for Sam.” He hugged Marianne closer. “You know what? I’d rather not talk about Sylvie, if you don’t mind.”

  “Believe me, I’m fine with that.” What was it about Sylvie Woodrow? She might be innocent, but trouble surrounded her and flowed in her wake. The email she received. Her stolen laptop resurfacing. And now this—engineering a row that threatened to break up Marianne’s fledgling relationship with AJ before it had a chance to start. If Marianne never set eyes on the girl again, she’d be happy.

  A cell phone chirped,
and Marianne groaned. “That’s mine. I need to check it.” She separated from AJ, grabbed the tiny shoulder purse she took to the party, and slid out her phone. It was a text from Aiden.

  I dropped off your bags. You’ll find them at the bottom of the stairs. Jordan wants to see us at 10 tomorrow morning.

  What an angel. She now had access to her clothes and toiletries. She showed the text to AJ. “I’ll set my alarm for the morning, and then I need to go grab my stuff.”

  “Why does Jordan want to see you? Is it something to do with Louisa? D’you want me to come with you?”

  “Sweetie, so many questions—but no, it’s a business meeting. That’s why we came here this weekend. We all work for TM-Tech, and Jordan does consultancy for us.”

  “Okay.” He stretched. “I’ll get your stuff. You stay here.”

  “Thank you.” She pressed a tiny kiss on his cheek, and when he climbed off the bed, she rolled over and pressed her face into the pillow. It felt like she could sleep for a week.

  She woke to the sound of her phone alarm, and groped vaguely, eyes closed, to shut off the noise. Where was she?

  Fuck. She sat bolt upright. She was at AJ’s, in one of his spare rooms. By herself. Disappointment mingled with relief. When she got hammered on vodka with Marcus, they ended up sleeping together. She was glad the same didn’t happen with AJ. New start and all that.

  She looked at her phone, and then reread last night’s message from Aiden. She needed to leave in half an hour. There was enough time to get a shower. And to see if AJ was up.

  Twenty minutes later, she still appeared to be the only person out of bed in the house. She dug out her notepad and wrote a quick note to AJ, which she left in the middle of her bed.

  Hey. I’ll be at Jordan’s this morning but will come back later. I need to get back to London tonight, though. If you’re not busy, why don’t you come down with me? Maz xx

  * * * *

  Marcus surfaced in an unfamiliar bed, fully dressed, apart from his shoes. A bright-yellow plastic bucket sat on the floor nearby. Dull sunlight crept through a gap in the curtains, but it was enough to make his head pound.

  On the bedside cabinet were a bottle of water and some headache pills. He sat up slowly and helped himself to both, while he tried to figure out where he was. The last thing he remembered was going back to the car. So how the fuck did he get here—wherever here was?

  Footsteps approached, and the door opened. He looked up to see Jordan scowling at him, and it all came flooding back. Getting hammered on Jordan’s malt. Texting Marianne. Stumbling into the house, too drunk to stand up and half-carried by Jordan and Rico.

  Fuck.

  “I’ve called a briefing at ten,” said Jordan, his voice as cold as his expression. “I believe you were gonna update me on the situation at TM-Tech.”

  Marcus struggled to reply. His mouth felt full of sawdust. “What time is it now?”

  “Nine-thirty. I suggest you shower and change, then come down to the library. Rico and Aiden are here. Marianne will be soon.”

  That’s right. Marianne had fucked off with AJ. Marcus heart twisted at the memory of seeing them kiss.

  Jordan waited, as though expecting conversation.

  Marcus ran his tongue across furry teeth and tasted last night’s whisky. What did he forget? Double fuck. “Is Louisa okay? I didn’t see much of her last night.”

  A muscle twitched in Jordan’s cheek—a sign he was beyond angry. “It was only Kate’s generosity that let you have this bed. Louisa insisted on you sleeping in the garden, and I was inclined to agree with her.” Jordan stared at him and narrowed his eyes. “She found your cell phone. Read your messages to Marianne. It was a shock to all of us. Then she had a fight with Marianne. You could say Lou’s not in the best shape at the moment.”

  Guilt slammed into Marcus like a wrecking ball. He’d brought this on himself.

  ****

  Sylvie couldn’t relax. The horrible scene between Marianne and Louisa played out in her head on auto-repeat. Charlie was tight lipped about his conversation with Alex, and Sylvie wished she never said anything in the first place. The shocked look on Alex’s face when Louisa confronted him, was bad enough. When he came back to the kitchen and announced Marianne was staying, he looked like a broken man. Worse than he was on the beach before the gig.

  Sylvie needed to apologise to him, for pushing the issue with Charlie and Mick, and the idea nagged and prodded at her all morning. Rico had gone to Jordan’s for his meeting, Charlie was still asleep, and Mick was hanging out with the roadies. There was no sign of Alex.

  Remembering where he escaped to yesterday, she headed out to the beach.

  It was cold outside, grey and overcast, with the wind tearing down the beach and creating little puffs of sand in its wake. In her biker jacket, she was frozen again, but her heart lifted when she saw him. This time he sat on a pile of rocks, close to the water’s edge, and tossed pebbles into the sea. He appeared to be lost in thought but looked up as she approached.

  Her steps faltered at his furious glare, and she tried a little smile. “Hey there. You okay today?”

  He curled his lip. Sylvie could be something nasty he scraped off his boot.

  She tried again, struggling not to shiver. “I was worried about you.”

  “Worried?” He sounded incredulous. “That’s a joke.” His mouth snapped shut. When he spoke again, his tone was more measured but almost venomous. “I don’t feel inclined to talk to you today.”

  “I can see you’re angry with me,” she began, but he didn’t let her finish.

  “Angry is the understatement of the year.” He stood up, towering over her on the sand. “Shall I tell you? Huh?”

  She took an instinctive step backwards. “Yes. Please, tell me.”

  Alex stared up at the sky for a moment. “I don’t know where to start. How about you sticking your nose into my business? Nagging Charlie to talk to me and dig up all kinds of ancient history? Things I’d managed to put behind me, and forget about, and you decided—in your wisdom—I need to be reminded of. Acting like you’re concerned about me. Slagging off the woman I love—you and Rico. Not sure I trust either of you. How about that for starters?” He roared every sentence, his eyes blazing fury.

  Sylvie stood her ground. “I thought I was helping. I didn’t think it fair that your friends would let you risk screwing up your life again, over her.”

  “How the fuck would you know anything about it?”

  “Charlie told me.”

  “Charlie said you asked him.”

  “I don’t want her to hurt you again.”

  “Like I said—what makes you the fucking expert on my life?” He turned away, his breathing ragged.

  Great. She was looking out for him, in her usual clumsy way, and this was what happened. She tried to stay calm. “Alex, I’m sorry. I’d no idea it was going to kick off like this. The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

  “Well you won’t be offended if I ignore you from now on.” He turned to face her again, his expression ice cold. “I’ve been thinking... I’m going down to London with Maz, probably for a few weeks. It’s not appropriate for you to stay here. I’ll tell Jordan he needs to move you. Let some other poor sod have the fun of you fucking up his life.”

  She shivered, and not from the cold.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Was there something else?”

  There was a lot she wanted to say, but the power of speech vanished. She shook her head.

  “Goodbye, Sylvie. I’d like you out by this afternoon.”

  Christ. He meant it. Sylvie stuck out her chin, scowled at him, and turned to walk away. She paused after a couple of steps. There was something else. Fuck it. She’d never have this chance again. She spun on her toes, walked back to where he stood, reached up, and went to kiss his cheek.

  He turned his head at the last moment. She found his lips instead.

  Pulling back a fraction, she spoke in a whisper. “I�
��m truly sorry. Thank you for everything. I’ll never forget you.”

  Alex could have been carved from stone.

  She turned, and ran full pelt for the sand dune, back to his house, for the very last time.

  ****

  Alex couldn’t remember the last time he felt so angry. The pent-up fury from the night before boiled in him as Sylvie ran away.

  After everything he did for her and Rico, it felt as though she’d stabbed him in the back. It was blindingly obvious she had issues with Maz, and if it came down to a straight choice, there was no contest. Maz was his lover, returned after years apart. He’d known Sylvie for one week.

  Thank fuck she was out of his life.

  This was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

  He lifted a hand to his lips. What the goddamn fuck was that about?

  As he stared after her, it felt as though someone was watching him. Alex focused further down the beach. The camera guy was still hanging around. Alex was sure he was a journo and now he had some gutter-press-worthy-pictures of the argument with Sylvie.

  Common sense disappeared. Adrenaline pumped through Alex’s veins. He charged straight for the guy and swung a hefty punch in the man’s face as they collided.

  The photographer toppled over, to lie flat on his back on the sand. Breathing heavily, Alex grabbed the camera—an expensive-looking Canon—and fumbled with the buttons as he searched for the memory card. There it was. He slipped it into his jacket pocket and took a step back.

  The journo stared up at him, a dazed look in his eyes, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.

  “Keep the fuck away from me,” snarled Alex and stomped away. With luck, the journo got the message, but if he was dumb enough to come back, Alex would sue his ass for harassment.

  The rest of Sunday passed in a blur. When Charlie and Mick were packed and ready to leave, they asked if Sylvie would be playing bass for the charity gig. This sparked Alex’s temper again. He had no intention of letting her have anything more to do with the band.

  If he never saw her again, it would be too soon.

  He left a message for Jordan, and then escaped to his studio, while he waited for Maz to return from her meeting. It would be good to get back to London. Exactly what he needed.