by Anna Bloom
“Faith never wanted my help.” I shrug because it’s the truth.
“Neither do I. Don’t make me regret trusting you.”
“I won’t.” My promise is low, but I mean it. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a very busy schedule today.” I flash her a shit-eating grin.
“Yeah, doing what?”
“Research of my own.”
“Research?”
“Yep.”
We stand still, watching one another while a cold wind whips its salty tang around us, catching a strand of her dark hair and lifting it into the sky. “Do you want to drop your stuff at mine and shower before you start work?” There is no way to say that without sounding like a moron.
She smiles at my moronic and awkward question. “Sure.”
“Let’s go and get your car.” I have no idea what this thing between us will involve, but one small step at a time seems to be the only way to go.
For the first time in a long time I don’t sit in the lounge and stare at the four walls, or watch Jeremy Kyle trying to decide whether my life is more or less of a mess than the persons on screen.
I’m cleaning the kitchen when the phone rings. Knelt on the floor with my head in the back of a cupboard, I’m excavating a bunch of plastic takeaway containers from where they’ve been buried for a year. I reach into my pocket. Vinny.
“Hey,” I answer, straightening up from the kitchen floor and keeping my voice cool despite the heat rising up the back of my neck.
“Yo, Danny boy. How’s the bruises?”
I rub at the back of my neck. “Sore, again.”
He snorts. “Looks like you’ve got a rest this week though, my man. The police have had a word.”
“A word? What do you mean?” Why does it sound like my balls haven’t dropped?
“Nah, stupid bastards, shut me down, ain’t they.”
“Shit, Vinny. That’s a pain in the ass.”
“I know. You wanna get back in the ring hey? You’re a devil for the punishment, Danny.”
“That’s me,” I lie. Well half a lie. It was me until some point within the last twenty-four hours when a complete stranger with a penchant for kinky sex changed everything.
“I won’t lie, Vin, I probably need a rest this week, anyway. It was messy Friday night.”
He snorts. “We took an absolute killing. The crowd love that desperate edge of losing your shit vibe you’ve got going on.”
“Great.” I laugh, but it sounds all wrong. “I live to please.”
“Ah, now, Danny, that makes me happy to hear. You know how people gossip down here. Everyone pointing fingers, working out who might have called in the pigs.”
“Well it wasn’t me.”
“You gonna come and get your earnings?”
“Later. Keep them for me, yeah?”
“Sure. We’ll be up and running in a week or two once we’ve found a new warehouse. You’ll be first in the ring.”
“Great.”
“Stay out of trouble.” It’s not a suggestion.
“Always. Let me know if you hear anything.”
“Oh I will, Danny Boy. Oh I will.”
The line cuts off and I stand for a moment. Not much scares me. I’ve lived through enough to have a limited amount of triggers left. But Vinny Wayland has a bad side I don’t want to meet, want no one I know to meet.
Sighing, I lean back against the kitchen counter and pinch the bridge of my nose. Vinny had come into the shop the day after Faith went back to London. The day I realised our short foray into no-man’s-land between friends and something else was nothing more than her blocking her heart to her emotions.
I’d done Vinny a skull and crossbones on his shin when he commented on how I’d maintained my bulk despite not being at his gym. Maybe he’d seen how angry and desperate I was. I don’t know. Maybe he saw money and someone who wanted to die. No one held a gun to my head and told me I had to take him up on the offer of a fight. I’d gone into it with my eyes open, hoping to never come back out.
“Shit, Sienna.” I throw my phone on the side and stalk back into the lounge. The sofa is outside the front door. I’ve already called the council to come and collect it. I push at one of the large leather armchairs to move it over into the space the sofa once inhabited. The lounge is lacking in furniture, but it’s okay. All this cream leather was Dad’s choice, not something I’d go for myself. He will hardly tell me off for wasting a good three piece. I realise that now.
I’m taking down the pictures off the wall and adding them to a pile of sketches I found in the upstairs bedroom when the doorbell rings.
My stomach chills and it’s impossible not to think it’s Vinny come to have a 'chat' face to face. Maybe he’s come to pay me my winnings and kneecap me.
I pull on the door puffing out my chest ready to take anything that comes, but my air leaves my lungs in one long whoosh of air.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I look into the absurdly handsome, best friend stealing face of Elijah Fairclough; His Lordship.
“Hey, Dan. I’ve just met Sienna, and Faith’s lawyer for a meeting. I thought I’d stop by.”
“Faith’s not with you though?” I lift an eyebrow. I don’t want to see her, not right now. Even seeing him is too much. Knowing she’s having his child, knowing that every night they are slipping into bed with one another, experiencing something I will probably never know.
“No. You haven’t spoken to her?” He looks surprised, and it makes me pause from my angry internal shit talk.
“No. I’m off the friend list.” I don’t let him in. I stand in the doorway and block the view of inside. Last time he was here, Aiden and his mates beat him to within an inch of his life. I doubt he remembers the pale carpet he bled over.
He doesn’t look uncomfortable stood out in the street, the grey sky hanging over his head. He looks like he has no expectations to be let in.
Fuck him.
“Come in,” I grunt.
He follows me and I stand with my arms folded.
“Sienna told me you got yourself into trouble again.”
“That wasn’t her business.”
“Maybe not, but you’re Faith’s friend, and she has enough going on at the moment.”
“So? I’m staying well away. I doubt she gives a shit about me right now.”
Elijah sighs, the fight going out of him as he slumps a little. His hand rises and runs through his short hair. “Dan, I heard what you said to her the other day before you left Chesham Place. I know what you did for her, saving her life.”
“Yeah, well, that was a long time before she met you.”
“It’s irrelevant. I’m still grateful for it. And I know when my sister needed help, and I sent her to Faith, I know you helped her too.” I’d almost forgotten about the two teenagers, one knocked-up, who had turned up on my doorstep over the summer, back when I thought Faith might keep this as her home forever.
We stare at one another for a moment. I’d never realised how tall he was. I guess I never really considered it before. The first time we met it was in passing and I thought he was just one of Faith’s flings, and I was focused on Dad, anyway. The second he was in a heap on my floor. He took a beating for her. I have to give him respect for that.
“You’ve protected her too.”
Another sigh. “Not as well as I would have liked.” His eyes meet mine. “I love her, but I don’t know how to reach her. Her walls are sky high.”
I shake my head. “That’s Faith though. She’s been battling this so long she doesn’t know how to be any other way.”
“Do you think if I get it to court it will help?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Why are you asking me? Talk to her.”
“I know you love her.”
“It doesn’t matter.” The fight I hold deep inside unravels a little. “Wanna go and grab a drink? I haven’t got anything in the house.”
His gaze flickers towards the kitchen where black bin
bags hold the contents of the cupboards. “Moving home?” he asks.
“Nah.” I shake my head. “Just making one.”
He holds my gaze for a moment. “A drink would be good.”
He turns for the door. There’s a pub on the corner we can walk to. As odd and strange as this whole situation is. “Wait, Elijah. You should have these.”
I pass him the paintings I’ve taken down from the walls. All by Faith, all of them hung proudly by my dad. “Look. I found these in her room. She must have done them while she was here during the summer.”
I flinch a little as his bright gaze reads my face.
Without saying a word, he shifts them slightly so he can see the pencil on paper. Sketches of him. So many I gave up counting; each one from a different angle.
“She’s never drawn a picture of me. She told me it would burn the paper or worse, her hand.”
His lips curve into a smile. “I’ll never forgive myself for the chain of events I put into action that night of the Bowsley Ball.”
I shrug. “You don’t have to forgive yourself. You just have to make sure it never happens again.”
He clutches the pictures to his chest like they are a hug he so desperately needs. “I will.”
“Then maybe I won’t hate you forever.”
“That would be a good start.”
This is way too touchy-feely girly shit for my liking. “Come, let's get a drink before Si—” I stop talking before blurting Sienna’s name.
He hasn’t missed my slip though. “Be careful, Dan. I’d hate for you to get burnt again.”
As we walk to the pub in silence, I think about his words.
I find it ironic he thinks anyone can hurt me more than Faith has. This is just fun. Something else other than depression and a deep need to never see another dawning day. And I’ll take that for as long as it lasts.
Twelve
Sienna
It’s only been an hour since my meeting with Reggie Fitzpatrick and Elijah ended and I’ve already ticked five names off the list I created with Dan and Abi’s help.
Brighton is tight-lipped, and the further you walk down streets where houses are crammed closer together and the paint work peels more, the tighter those lips become.
I’m close to heading home and giving it up, but determined to try five more house calls before I head back to Dan’s. I’m surprised at how keen my feet are to walk towards his home. The time since I left and went to 'work' seems to have ticked by at half its usual rate.
When my phone rings, I perch on a front wall of a house and fish my phone out of my bag. There’s a cereal bar too, so I grab that. I’m not convinced of when I last ate. Definitely not breakfast—breakfast was far more enjoyable than plain old food. My cheeks warm just remembering it. Being with Dan is surprisingly easy. He doesn’t judge and that sting of shame I feel when I’ve let my natural inclinations rule my sexual encounters is non-existent. I drag in a deep breath, knowing he doesn’t judge makes it so much easier to breathe.
“Hi,” I answer Melissa’s call.
“Where are you? I haven’t heard from you. I’m pretty close to calling the police.”
“You spoke to me Saturday.”
“Today’s Monday. What’s your excuse?”
I chuckle, although silence from the other end of the line meets my snort of laughter.
“Okay, no joke. What’s going on. Why are you laughing?”
I shake my head and cross my ankles. Hopefully the owner of the house won’t mind me perching for a while. “Are there rules against me laughing now?”
“Well huh, if you did it more often then maybe I wouldn’t fall off my chair in the office when it happens.”
“Shut up, you did not.”
“Could have though.”
Holding my phone between my shoulder and my ear, I use my free hands to peel the wrapper from the cereal bar and take a small bite.
“Anyway, this is business. First, the Metropole called and said you’d disappeared without handing back in your key card.” There’s a brief pause. “Sorry, I’ll correct that. She said key cards.”
Well bollocks.
I can hear the squeal Melissa is holding in. I swallow my bite of compressed cereal. “It’s not what you think.”
“No? Because then I’m totally thinking you’ve been on a dirty weekend.”
“No. Not at all.”
Jeez, I hope no one can see me now. My face must be the colour of fresh pickled beetroots.
“Oooh, Richards, I can tell when you are lying. I’m hurt here, I thought I was so much more than a secretary.”
“You are. But the receptionist must have been mistaken. It was just me.”
“You know, if I knew a good investigator, I’d try to get the CCTV. Especially the lift, I reckon that’s got to be the best camera in a hotel.”
My face burns even hotter when I remember Dan and I leaving the hotel this morning and the way his kiss had nearly consumed me alive in the lift. She’s not wrong. And now I remember we didn’t check out. It had been a miracle I could walk on my shaking legs. I’d done it though just out of principle to wipe his cocky smirk off his face.
“Shame you don’t know a good investigator.”
“True. So anyway, now I know you haven’t got swept out to sea, I can tell them it was a mistake and you’ll drop the cards back yes?”
“Yeah, I guess.” There must be something wrong with me because in my head I just have a vision of Dan and I walking along the stony beach at sunset… That is not the normal stuff I think about.
“Okay, second, a Scott Harrington has called for you, twice this morning. He wants to know when you are free for a drink and asked me to check your diary.”
“Presumptuous.”
“Is this the other key card holder?”
“Hell no.”
“Okay, so what do I tell him?”
“Tell him some time the other side of never.”
“Okay. Last thing; your Dad called. He wants to confirm your weekend dinner.”
My lungs just exhale and don’t take in more air. The glow I had coursing through me evaporates and I bite hard on my lower lip.
That’s one way to remind me this is all make believe. Nothing about my time in Brighton is real. A flourish of anger blooms in my chest like an unfurling rosebud in late May. “Can you tell him I’m busy this week?”
There’s a pause. “Sure.”
“Thanks.”
“No, I mean, are you sure?”
I blink up into the cloudy sky, willing the tears to stop prickling my eyes. “Yeah, I am sure.” I wipe at my face and refuse to think any further ahead than one moment at a time. I won’t think of Dad’s reaction. I won’t think of any repercussions. I’ll just try to claim one moment for myself, and then the next, one at a time.
“Okay. So will you be in Brighton tomorrow too?”
“Mm, I think I might need longer, possibly until the end of the week. There are lots of people to see.”
I glance down at the paper holding only a few more names.
“Excellent.” She knows I’m lying. “I’ll tell Elijah.”
“No need. I’ve seen him this morning; he knows I’ll be here a while.” Another lie. He told me to get back to the office as soon as possible considering Brighton seemed to be a dead end.
“Everything okay, Sienna?” The concern in Melissa’s voice is impossible to ignore.
I sigh and pick off a piece of my bar. “Actually, do you know what?”
“What?” I can imagine her leaning over her desk like we were talking over a glass of wine in our regular wine bar.
“It’s pretty damn good.”
I disconnect the call and then pop the end of my snack into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully while I work out what I want to do next. I want to go and find Dan. I want to hand myself over to him and let him make me come in shuddering waves of desire.
“Can I help you there, love?” I turn at the sound of a male vo
ice behind me. A guy is at his front door, leaning against the frame. He looks like I’ve woken him up with my senseless chat.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” I jump up and tighten my jacket over my chest. “I just sat down while I was taking a call, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
He smiles, dark eyes, dark hair—not dissimilar to Dan. He looks about the same age too. “I don’t suppose you know Dan Smith, do you? You look kind of similar.”
“Not since school; we run in different circles.”
I shrug. This address wasn’t on my list of names, so this is a bonus. “It’s a big town.”
He shrugs. “Not that big. What’s old Danny been up to this time? Is he still fighting at that club?”
I school my frown into a neutral expression. “Not that I know of. I’m trying to find out about Brighton Comprehensive. There have been some historical complaints. I work for the council.”
“Please tell me they are going to knock it down.”
“Maybe. I don’t get to decide that. I’m just down the ladder with the clipboard collecting information.”
His eyes settle on my face. “It was okay, I never heard of anything bad going on.”
“Oh, that’s interesting. I’ve heard all sorts of things from other ex-students: fights, attacks. All sorts.” I chuckle a little. “Maybe you were in one of the better friendship groups.”
“Goody-two-shoes me.”
Yeah, bet you were, buddy.
He leans out of the door slightly as though he doesn’t want the neighbours to hear. “You know what, that Dan, he’s always been at the centre of all the problems. Him and his friends. I’ve heard they’ve been spreading rumours about all sorts of innocent people.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
My rebuttal is too quick. I’ve timed it all wrong. I should have written it down and pretended that I had no prior knowledge.
Rookie error.
It’s too late, but I write it down anyway, nodding slowly like I’m absorbing the information.
When I look up the guy is smirking, his eyes hiding depths that tell me he knows exactly what I’m here for.
“And you are? Do you mind me asking? I won’t be passing it on anywhere. It’s just to show I haven’t made up my evidence.”
