They Won't Believe You (Scottish Dark Romance Book 1)

by Paisley Alice Quinn

  4

  Craig watched closely as Kylie dived into the waves. He wished she’d worn a bikini instead of a thermal suit. How he longed to look at her lovely long legs, and perfect round bum. Her figure was slender but with curves in all the right places and it was all he could do not to yank down her zip and free those milky-white breasts.

  He tried not to stare as she flopped down on the beach beside him. He wanted so much to reach out and take her hand. But he was also worried about her. He had to know what had happened with Lachlan. It was killing him not knowing the truth.

  He had heard Kylie return from her date the night before. They hadn’t even noticed him watching from the balcony. He had witnessed the two of them, kissing and pulling at one another’s clothes. He couldn’t believe Kylie was falling for Lachlan’s charms so easily, and when they had disappeared inside her flat, he’d thought he was going to be sick.

  He had crept down the stairs and stood outside her door for a minute, but that only made him feel worse. From the moans coming from inside, Lachlan was doing a lot more than coming in for coffee and Craig had scuttled back up to his room to take it out on his punchbag.

  He had switched his music on then, as was his habit when he worked out, but all he could think about was Kylie, his Kylie, rolling around with that arsehole. He had pictured her naked and beautiful, writhing beneath that smarmy librarian. Being fucked by that fucking douchebag.

  How he had pounded the punchbag, his body growing tenser by the minute. Then came the sound of Kylie’s door slamming and Lachlan had shouted something at her. It had sounded like they’d had a fight.

  Craig had opened his door and looked down to see Lachlan desperately wriggling into his jeans. He’d felt a thrill go through him as he realised she’d thrown him out. But his excitement turned to anger as he tried to work out what had happened. Had Lachlan been too rough with her? Had he not treated her like the princess she clearly was? The thought of anyone hurting Kylie, especially in that way, made his head spin. He wanted to throw himself over the rail so that he could body slam the bastard right where it hurt.

  As he stood there, shaking with rage, Flora walked up the stairs and spoke softly to Lachlan. He couldn’t understand how she could be so calm, when he was so angry. He watched as Lachlan grabbed his shirt and scampered off down the stairs without waiting to put it on. His cheeks were flushed and he realised he looked embarrassed. Then Flora had disappeared into Kylie’s flat and he had started down the stairs after Lachlan, determined to make him pay.

  Lachlan had shot out the door and run for his car, perhaps sensing that Craig was behind him. Craig had watched as he sped off down the road and his body had felt like stone. He’d stomped back up the stairs and paused outside Kylie’s. He’d wanted to throw the door open and demand she tell him what had happened. He needed to know where Lachlan had gone wrong. Was it something he’d said or something he’d done?

  But he could still hear Flora talking calmly, both their voices too soft for him to pick out the individual words. Perhaps it was better that she talked to Flora. Flora was as gentle and soothing as he was rough and abrasive. He hadn’t wanted to lose it in front of Kylie. He hadn’t wanted to frighten her. That was the last thing he’d ever wanted to do. No, better to question Kylie in the morning once he’d had a chance to calm down.

  5

  “Afternoon!” Muriel barked on Monday morning when Kylie ducked into the library just after nine.

  Kylie’s eyes flicked to the clock on the wall. She was barely five minutes late. She cast her eyes around the room but there was no sign of Lachlan. Lately, he’d been in the habit of leaving her messages. Funny little post-it notes containing doodles or else cryptic riddles for her to solve, but today there was nothing. She glanced over the top of the filing cabinets and saw that his desk was empty. No suit jacket on the back of his chair. His computer wasn’t even switched on. Her spirits rose as she considered the possibility that he’d called in sick.

  She relaxed a little and allowed herself a small smile as she switched on her computer and checked her emails. She replied to one from Muriel. It felt silly emailing, when they were sitting just across the office from one another but Muriel liked to do things that way. That done, she placed her handbag in the drawer for safe keeping and rose to her feet. She wasn’t really sure why she even had a desk when she spent most of her time stacking shelves but she liked that she had a little corner of her own. Somewhere to place her cup and cardigan while she trawled around the library with her trolley.

  There were plenty of books to stack that day. She sorted them swiftly, starting with the children’s books because she liked those the best. She loved sneaking a peek at the colourful pictures as she filed them away, sticking the big picture books in the tray for the little kids to grab. Those lucky children! She watched as they feasted on the books, grabbing whatever took their fancy and devouring them with loud, raucous enjoyment. No one had ever taken her to the library when she was a bairn. If they had, she might have learned to read a bit quicker.

  She pushed her trolley down to the far end of the library, stopping at the military history section, where she had a huge stack of books to file. Somebody must have been having a major geek out over the Battle of the Boyne. After a couple of hours, her arms were aching, and she decided it was time for her break. She checked that the coast was clear then darted through the door to the staff room. Lachlan was not there. Her breathing stilled and she took the tea caddy down from the cupboard and popped a teabag into her mug. She was just pouring the hot water when Marc Peters walked in. Marc was thin as a bird with ears that stuck out like handles. The moment he saw her, his mouth twisted into an awkward smile. He was all right, Marc, but his desire to do the right thing overshadowed his good nature, making him a royal pain in the arse at times.

  “Kylie, I still need to take your picture for the staff noticeboard. You’re the only one I haven’t done.”

  “I have a lot of books to shelve this morning,” she said, aware that she had used the same excuse last time.

  Marc rolled his eyes. “It’s a picture, Kylie. I’m not trying to steal your soul.”

  She poured the milk and took a step back. His breath smelled like bacon and onion pie.

  “I can’t do it this morning.”

  “Then how about lunchtime? I can meet you at the entrance at half twelve.”

  “Fine.”

  She took herself off into the corner, flipping through a comic book as she drank her tea. Marc took his tea away with him. Then the door opened again. She looked up sharpish, but it was only Muriel. She kept her head in her book but that didn’t stop Muriel from grumbling about everything from the Boolean system to the unseasonably warm weather and Kylie had to keep saying ‘yeah’ and ‘I know’ to show she was listening.

  Her trolley was waiting for her out in the corridor and someone had dumped more books onto it. She checked what was there and trundled along, turning into the literature section, which was dead quiet. She took the step ladder and leaned it against the shelf she needed. She felt pleasant little jolts of pain in her feet as she went up and down, returning the books to where they belonged. It was dusty up there and she sneezed once or twice as she slotted the books into place.

  She pulled a tissue from her pocket and was just about to blow her nose when a great booming laugh reached her ears. She saw Lachlan, surrounded by a group of small children and their yummy mummies. She had completely forgotten about Rhyme Time. The reading room was cluttered with buggies and small voices echoed throughout the library as the over-excited children ran about.

  Lachlan looked as pristine as ever. His shirt neatly starched, his hair combed into a perfect quiff. Her face burned as she recalled the last time she’d seen him. There was no way she was going out there, even if it meant hiding amongst the books all day. She waited until he began reading to the children, then she scooted over to the other side of the library where she hoped no one would find her.

 
She spent the next few hours refiling the science section, placing book after book on the shelves. It was only once she had finished that she spotted the French literature books at the bottom of her trolley. She peeked out from behind the shelves. Rhyme Time was over, but Lachlan was not at his desk. She guessed he must be in the staff room, or better still, at lunch. She took a chance and darted from one end of the library to the other.

  Marc Peters stood by the entrance and she remembered with a pang of guilt that she had said she’d meet him. Well she couldn’t, not today. She skittered past, hoping he hadn’t seen her and pushed her trolley behind the overflowing shelves. And not a moment too soon. Lachlan emerged from the staff room holding a steaming mug of tea. She knelt down behind the bookcases and waited a few minutes until both he and Marc were out of sight.

  Craig kept his head down, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He walked up and down, scanning the rows of bookcases, before he found what he was looking for. Lachlan looked as stuffed and preppy as he had on Friday night. Craig trailed him past a flimsy partition to what appeared to be his office.

  Lachlan sat down at his computer, humming to himself as he jogged the mouse. Craig hated how happy he looked, as if his conscience was as light as a feather. Did it not bother him that he had hurt Kylie’s feelings and possibly done something worse?

  He glanced around. The room was empty aside from Lachlan and a skinny man with sticking out ears. The skinny man darted a glance at Craig and withdrew as soon as he got a whiff of his testosterone. Lachlan didn’t even look up. He continued to tap away at the computer, humming an irritating tune. Craig strode up to him and crouched down on his haunches, positioning himself by Lachlan’s left ear.

  “A word, please.”

  Lachlan looked up, startled. A bolt of recognition flickered over his smooth features.

  “What did you do to her?” Craig asked, his fists balled up tightly.

  “Kylie? I had her eating out of the palm of my hand.”

  Without meaning to, Craig punched him. It wasn’t a hard punch, more of a warning shot.

  Lachlan stared at him in horror, his hand nursing his shoulder.

  “Tell me,” he demanded and Lachlan’s smugness evaporated.

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “We were having a good time. Then I tried something I guess she didn’t like and instead of talking about it, she kicked me out.”

  “So you didn’t intend to hurt her?”

  “No! I just wanted to… please her.”

  Wild pictures ran through Craig’s head. He pictured him touching her, somewhere his touch wasn’t welcome.

  “You’re sure you didn’t hurt her?”

  “No, I swear!”

  “You’re lying.”

  He punched him again, just in case.

  Kylie worked through lunch. She enjoyed slotting the books back into place, touching them tenderly as she tucked them in. She dusted off a few of the sorrier looking ones and pulled them out a bit so that someone might notice them. She liked climbing amongst the shelves and being with the books. No one bothered her up there. She felt calm and safe.

  Towards the end of her shift, she noticed a bulky figure moving through the sports section. Fucking hell, what was he doing here?

  She strode out from her hiding place and walked towards him.

  “I’m amazed you even know where the library is!”

  Craig placed the almanac back on the shelf.

  “Seriously. What are you doing here?”

  “Working on my dissertation.”

  “You don’t normally work here.”

  “No, well I’ve decided I need a change of scenery.”

  He set down his bag and squeezed into one of the little carrels.

  “Where’s your laptop then?”

  “I’m working on paper.”

  “You got a pen?”

  He patted his jacket. “No, I must have left it at home.”

  “Wait there, I’ll get you one of mine.”

  She walked across to her desk and grabbed one.

  “Thanks,” he said as she handed it over. “What time do you finish? You want to catch the train back together?”

  “Actually, I’m heading off now. I worked through my lunch break.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  She shrugged apologetically. “Good luck with the dissertation.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  She gathered up her stuff. She really did have to get going, if she was going to avoid both Marc and Lachlan. She gave him a wave as she skipped out the door, relieved to have got away unscathed.

  The sky grew grey as she walked towards the station and a cold, damp mist travelled in from the sea. She mooched along the streets, staring at the goodies in the shop windows, the brightly coloured flip-flops and the jaunty hats and bikinis. She held her umbrella tightly and hurried past quickly, not daring to look too long in any of the windows. She didn’t have the cash to splash out on luxuries, especially not after eating out with Craig and Flora that weekend.

  Across the road from Starbucks, she stopped and tilted her brolly at an angle, shielding her face from the drizzle. The beast whispered in her ear.

  Look! Over there.

  She watched as a man wearing a navy-blue tracksuit strode along the pavement opposite, his wee dog scampering at his heels. The man had a strong roman nose and narrow eyes. She watched as he tied the dog’s lead to a post. He had an easy smile that flickered on and off again in the blink of an eye. She watched as he disappeared inside the shop without so much as a backwards glance. His hair was the colour of cocoa and receding slightly, but not so you’d notice. But then, most people wouldn’t look at him for as long as she did.

  The dog whined and pawed at his lead. A group of tourists waltzed past and he smiled beseechingly at them, but they blundered on without noticing him and continued along the Royal Mile. Kylie dipped across the road and knelt down in front of him. She ran her hands over the damp fur on his head. He was soft and fluffy as a sheep, with a glistening black nose that looked like it could have been sewn on.

  “Your poor wee mite, left out here in the rain!”

  The dog licked her arm and she had a swufty up at the shop.

  “Are you hungry?”

  She rooted about in her bag and produced the corned beef sandwich that should have been her lunch. The dog’s eyes grew large and he let out an excited yap as she tore it free from its wrapper. Tiny or not, the dog snatched up the sandwich in his jaw and snaffled it up in no time. She glanced again at the shop.

  “Does he not feed you?”

  His owner was at the counter, gazing up at the board. No doubt he would be ordering coffee. Not one of the nice ones, the mocha or the cappuccino. It would be one of the pointless ones: no milk, no sugar, no caffeine, no fun.

  The dog tugged at the lead. It was too tight. Her eyes flicked back to his owner, now searching his pockets for change. Not once had he glanced back to check on his dog. That was very irresponsible, she thought. This was a public place. Anything could happen.

  The dog was tugging at his lead, but the more he tugged, the tighter it got.

  There was a fluttering in her chest. Did he have to tie him up so tight? The muscles in her arms grew tense. Another swift look at the man and a burst of adrenaline fizzed through her. She was filled with a desire to put things right. Some people shouldn’t be allowed dogs, and that man was one of them.

  Her hands shook as she wrestled with the lead. She knew she had to act quickly. She had maybe seconds before he came back out. She threw her umbrella to the ground, the spiky frame poking out for anyone to trip over. There was no time to shake it out and fold it, let them walk around her for a change.

  Her fingers and thumbs felt too big for her hands and the knot impossibly small.

  “Come on!”

  If only she had a hair pin, she could slip it into the knot to pull it loose, but her clumsy hands were the only tool she had. She yanked and she pulled, the friction burn
ing her fingers. Her nail caught between the grooves of material and then the knot was loose.

  She tumbled backwards, then righted herself. The dog looked at her with his large, trusting eyes, and she scooped him up under one arm, seizing the open umbrella with the other. The dog did not struggle. Instead, he yapped and licked her, the sandwich having been enough to buy his loyalty.

  “Do you want to come home with me, laddie? Course you do!”

  Sirens wailed behind her and her heart grew cold as she saw that the dog’s owner was no longer at the counter.

  Where was he?

  He stood in the doorway now, the plastic cup of coffee in his hands. He hadn’t got the lid on right and he was fumbling with it, trying to force it down. She walked on rapidly, head down under her brolly, the wee dog nestled neatly under her mac.

  She chanced one last glance back at him and saw that he had finally cottoned on. He stood as still as a lighthouse, sweeping the streets with his eyes. Was that loss or regret in his furrowed brow? He should have kept a closer eye on the dog, not just left him outside where any chancer could nab him. A lot could happen in five minutes. Everything could change.

  A bus rounded the corner and pulled up at the bus stop with a fizz. She piled in behind the crowd of passengers, all of them eager to get out of the rain. She waited impatiently, not daring to look back. He would be combing the streets now, she was certain. Covering the distance between them in a few easy strides. She did not dare fold her umbrella until the very last minute and kept her head down as she waited to board. She felt his presence in the cobbled streets behind her and sensed his shadow on the wall as she pushed her way onto the bus, the dog smuggled neatly under her coat.

  Once she was on board, she slid into a seat on the far side of the top deck. She clutched the dog to her breast and willed the bus to start. It seemed to her that they had been standing still an awfully long time when finally, her prayers were answered. The engine jerked to life and the bus pulled away, leaving the dog’s owner behind.