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

by Paisley Alice Quinn

  “That family,” someone had muttered on one of the rare occasions she and Cherry had gone out for a milkshake. “Can’t believe they’re showing their faces around here.”

  “It won’t be long till she’s following in his footsteps,” someone else had said, glaring at Kylie. “Like cockroaches, they are. Nasty, filthy skanks.”

  Cherry had stuck her middle finger up at them and Kylie had shrunk back into the booth, wishing the ground would swallow her up. She still felt the hostility when she visited her old neighbourhood. Those folks had long, selective memories. It didn’t matter how much good she did with her life, they would never let her forget.

  “You look tired,” he said, taking her tea cup and setting it down on the table.

  “Yeah, it’s been a long day,” she agreed glancing down at Dexter, who had found himself a comfy place to lie at her feet.

  She tried not think about Coach, about how close he had got to her on the train, but even the smell of him had sent shockwaves through her body. He had been mocking, angry. But there was something else that lurked in those obnoxious eyes of his. Desire. He still wanted her and the thought of that made her squirm. Craig edged a little closer and she leaned her head against his chest. She didn’t know why she was so tired, but it felt good to rest in his arms. She felt protected, safe.

  It was getting dark when she awoke, and Craig was nudging her gently.

  “You fell asleep,” he said. “We both did.”

  She blinked and tried to clear the sleep from her memory. “Did we…”

  “No, Kylie,” and a smile played across his lips.

  “Right,” she said, feeling a bit awkward. “Well, I’d better get going. I have to feed Dexter and Sinister.”

  She left his flat and darted down to her own, Dexter trotting beside her. She was aware of Craig watching her from the stairs as she rattled her key in the lock. The task seemed more difficult in her impatience to get in. Once inside, she pulled the bolt across and ran to the window. There was no sign of Coach outside so perhaps it was safe now. She pulled the curtain across all the same.

  Once Kylie had left, Craig let out a big puff of air. He couldn’t believe his luck when she had asked to come up to his flat. He had wanted to seduce her there and then, had imagined the excitement of laying her down on his bed and kissing those rosebud lips. And yet, Kylie had seemed nervous. He had got the distinct impression something was troubling her. Not something, someone. He had seen the way she kept looking out the window. Had she really wanted to spend time with him, or had she just wanted his protection? Either way, he was more than willing to give her whatever she needed.

  When she had laid against him, he had looked down and seen that the top button of her shirt had come open, displaying a little more skin than she usually bared to him. He had been careful not to stare, at least, not until she’d fallen asleep, but that extra inch of cleavage had taunted him, and he had longed to reach down and release her breasts from their prison.

  He still hadn’t told her how he felt, but he had hope after she had fallen asleep in his lap. Perhaps she’d been preoccupied with whatever it was that was troubling her, but when she’d laid her head on his chest like that, he had instantly become hard and had to cover his lap with a cushion. She couldn’t have noticed, because she still laid down on him and closed her eyes to sleep. He had watched her as she drifted off, loved the way her eyelids had fluttered. She was so delicate and beautiful, like a Celtic princess, and he wanted her more than ever.

  13

  There was still a faint chemical smell when Kylie returned to her flat so she went around opening all the windows. Sinister darted inside and butted her as she put the food out. Dexter bolted down his dinner as usual, smacking his lips and watching Sinister as the cat nibbled delicately at hers.

  “Give her a minute,” Kylie warned him. “Here, do you want your squeaky toy?”

  She microwaved herself a slice of apple pie and settled down on the sofa to watch TV. Her legs felt extremely itchy and when she glanced down she saw more flea bites dotted around her ankles. She glanced down at the floor but the fleas were hard to spot so she laid out a sheet of white paper. Instantly, she saw one leap onto it and then another. They were having a fucking party in her flat and there was nothing she could do about it. She was going to have to vacuum and spray all over again.

  A couple of weeks after she’d got rid of the nits, her hair had started itching again. She had thought the itching would drive her insane. She combed her hair through with the nit comb, but she couldn’t find any sign of them. She couldn’t even be sure if they were really there. The more she thought about them, the more she felt them, creeping and crawling in her hair. It drove her to distraction.

  Finally, she borrowed Cherry’s dressmaking scissors and used them to hack off the back of her hair. It had fallen to the ground like a pile of dark feathers and she had felt a bit sad when she saw it all. She had swept up the mess and styled her new hair as best as she could. At least with short hair there would be less chance of getting nits again.

  “Oh, really!” Cherry had said when she saw her.

  “It’s not that bad!”

  “Sit yourself down, girl. You can’t be going out with hair like that.”

  She had done a good job fixing the cut. It had ended up way shorter than she’d planned, but it didn’t look bad at all.

  “You know what? I like it,” Cherry had said. “It makes you look older, more mature.”

  Kylie had looked in the mirror and smiled. The new haircut had accentuated her cheekbones, making her look stylish and fierce. Cherry was right, she did look older than her sixteen years. She liked it.

  There had been a bounce in her step as she walked from the bus stop down to the pool. She couldn’t help glancing in the mirrors of the shops in Princes Street, admiring her new look. And it was much quicker to style than her old hairdo. No more plaiting or rooting about the house for an elastic. She simply had to run a comb through and it was done.

  “Wow! Your hair!” Ruth had gasped when she arrived at practice. “You never told me you were getting it done.”

  “It was a spur of the moment thing.”

  “Like your hair,” Mairi had said, opening her locker.

  Kylie had flashed her a tight smile. She hadn’t known whether she meant it, or if she was being sarcastic. You could never tell with Mairi.

  She had changed quickly and walked out to the pool. There were a couple of others in the water, but it was still early, and most had yet to arrive.

  “Morning, Coach!”

  Coach had done a double take.

  “Kylie, Kylie, Kylie!”

  He had circled around her, the whistle dangling from the ribbon around his neck.

  “What the hell have you done to yourself, girl?”

  “It’s just a haircut.”

  He had shaken his head.

  “I really wish you hadn’t done that. It’s going to take you ages to grow it back.”

  She had crossed her arms across her body, feeling rebellious, defiant. “I’m not going to grow it back. I like it.”

  He had moved in closer, getting his face right in front of hers.

  “Oh, yes you are.”

  14

  “My computer’s not working,” Ainsley complained at work on Monday.

  Muriel looked up from her desk and rolled her eyes. Patience was not her favourite virtue.

  “Call IT then. In the meantime, you’re not using yours, are you Kylie?”

  “No. Not right now.”

  “Well then, you can sit there.”

  Kylie stood aside as Ainsley walked over and set her bag down on the chair. She groped inside and produced a wet wipe, which she proceeded to dab all over the desk and keyboard.

  “I’m just a bit OCD,” she explained when she saw Kylie looking. “Nothing personal.”

  “Okay.”

  “Kylie, can you help Lachlan with Rhyme Time today?” Muriel asked before she co
uld get away.

  “Who? Me?”

  Ainsley looked unhappy. “I thought I was going to…”

  Muriel fixed her with a look. “I’m not asking you. I’m asking Kylie. Go on, Kylie, get over there.”

  Kylie pressed her lips together. There had been a time when she had loved working with the children but not now, not when it meant spending time with Lachlan.

  She pasted a smile on her face and walked over to the children’s section where he was busy setting out the chairs.

  “Muriel said I have to help you.”

  “Yes, I know, I requested you.”

  “You did?”

  He nodded. “I think it’s time we buried the hatchet. It’s a bit shit having to avoid each other, don’t you think?”

  She stared at him. She had thought she was doing all the avoiding, not him but she smiled anyway.

  “Sounds good to me.”

  “And listen, maybe afterwards we could go and grab a coffee together? I’d like to straighten things out with you. Put it all behind us.”

  He looked contrite, his mouth tugging into an apologetic smile.

  “I don’t know…”

  “Come on, just one cup of coffee. Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

  Against her better judgement, she found herself nodding.

  “We’ll go to Mario’s,” she said, naming the crappiest café she could think of. He looked a bit crotchety but he didn’t object.

  There were only a handful of kids that morning, so Lachlan cut the singing short after three songs. He read them the Tiger who Comes to Tea, and another book about a badger, then sent them all on their merry way.

  “I’m ready for that coffee if you are,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

  She glanced around a little nervously. “All right then.”

  She grabbed her jacket and followed him out the door, careful not to let her hand brush his as they crossed the road. She didn’t want him to think they were on again. She had enough complications in her life.

  The café was crowded. All the tables were full of cups and plates whether there was anyone sitting there or not.

  “I’m paying,” she said, as they walked to the counter.

  “Fine. I’ll have an espresso.”

  “And I’ll have a mocha, please,” she told the server.

  The woman threw their drinks together without much care and Kylie shuffled along to the till. Lachlan smirked as she emptied out her purse. Pennies rolled all over the counter, and the man behind them tutted as the server counted out the change and handed back ten pence.

  “Thank you,” said Kylie, slotting it back in her purse.

  “They don’t pay you that badly, do they?” Lachlan asked.

  “I’m careful with my money is all.”

  She let him pick the table. Not the one she would have chosen by the window, but a smaller one in the corner by the kitchen. She picked up a dirty cup and saucer and shifted it onto the counter before they sat down.

  “About our date…” she said.

  “You liked it,” he cut in. His voice was accusing, as if she had harmed him in some way.

  “I did like some of it,” she admitted. “But then you went and ruined it.”

  “Oh, come on, Kylie, don’t be coy with me. We both know you’re kinky as fuck.”

  She felt a familiar ache in her stomach.

  “What have I done to make you think that?”

  She glanced down at her outfit; the baggy shirt, and loose-fitting black trousers but there were no clues to be found there.

  “I was just trying to turn you on.”

  “I was already turned on! You were… you were fucking me!”

  The people at the next table turned to stare at them and her cheeks grew red with embarrassment.

  “I mean, it was good! Why did you have to ruin it?”

  “I don’t know. I wanted to go the extra mile for you.”

  “Look, maybe I overreacted…”

  “So, we can put it behind us?”

  “I suppose so.”

  He took a sip of his espresso. “Honestly, Kylie, I’d have been happy with a blowjob.”

  She almost spat out her coffee but then she saw that he was smiling.

  “Better get back to work.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  She let him walk in ahead of her, not wanting to be the butt of anybody’s gossip. What had prompted him to make amends? Had he got tired of Ainsley already?

  She walked back to her desk where Ainsley was staring at the computer.

  “Sorry, just need to get something from the desk drawer,” she said, squatting down to open it.

  She wrestled with the drawer which was stuffed too full. She’d been meaning to sort it out but never got around to it.

  “Ugh, is that a flea?” Ainsley said, as something fell from Kylie’s shirt.

  Kylie looked down. It was a flea, so small that she wouldn’t even have noticed if it hadn’t landed on a blank sheet of paper.

  She tried to kill it, but there was no catching the thing. It was gone now, probably hopping about on the carpet.

  “Just an insect,” she said, giving up on finding what she was looking for.

  She prayed to god that Ainsley would forget about it, or it will be all round the library in no time.

  Despite cutting her hair, the nits had come back again. She didn’t know where they were coming from, but one had fallen onto her desk at college. It had landed right in her exercise book, where she had bludgeoned it to death with her pencil topper. Fucking sucking parasite. She hated them. Hated the idea that there were critters living on her, sucking her blood.

  Once she had seen that creature, her head was itchy all day. She was still itchy as she walked into practice, but Mairi was watching her from across the room and she didn’t dare scratch. She didn’t want it getting around that she still had nits. She didn’t tell anyone, not even Ruth, but Coach seemed to sense it, and he looked at her with that disgusted look on his face.

  “Here she is, Dirty Kylie.”

  She’d glanced around. Everybody was staring at her, but he was the coach. He could say what he liked. And she’d felt dirty, the nits took care of that. Even when she eventually got rid of them, she’d still felt dirty. Especially when Coach was around.

  He had leaned close to her as she’d climbed out of the pool. “You’re proper filthy, aren’t you? You’d do anything with anyone.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “It is true Kylie; I know about these things. Soon enough, you’ll be just like your step-mum. Giving it away to every man who comes near.”

  15

  The sad thing was, Coach had been right about Cherry. When Kylie’s dad died, she had taken it badly, even worse than Kylie, if that was possible. She had sought comfort anywhere she could find it. Kylie had soon got used to the different men coming in and out of the house. She hadn’t liked the way some of them had looked at her. The way their eyes had travelled up and down her body.

  “I’m watching you, sweet pea,” one of those boyfriends had told her. “Just waiting for you to turn sweet sixteen.”

  That man was long gone by the time Kylie did turn sixteen, but there were plenty more like him to take his place. They creeped her out enough that she went to stay at Ruth’s house for a few weeks until her parents had had enough of her and then she began renting on her own. She could only afford the cheapest of accommodation and she went from one dead end job to another. The only constant in her life was the swimming and she could only continue with that because Coach was training her for free.

  Kylie thumbed through the stacks of books on her trolley. It looked like somebody had been on a German philosophy kick. She hoped they’d had a nice weekend. There were quite a few books on sports science too and an armload of art history. She picked one up and flicked through it, becoming so engrossed that she didn’t notice someone standing behind her. Not until he cleared his throat.

 
; She whirled around to see Marc. He had a sheepish expression on his face, as though he had something to say, but didn’t know where to start.

  “Can I help you?” she asked. She didn’t mean to be rude, but he was creeping her out, the way he was looking at her.

  “I was curious,” he said. “When you didn’t want me to take your photo. I thought there must be more to it, so I’m afraid I reverse searched your picture.”

  She swallowed. “You googled me?”

  All the blood rushed to her face.

  “Why?”

  He took a step towards her. Too close.

  “You had no right! You need to mind your own business, you really do.”

  He looked flustered and grew red around the ears. She didn’t care. She had to shut him down.

  “What’s this?” said Craig, stepping out of the shadows.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked in exasperation.

  “Who’s this?” Marc asked.

  “Just my neighbour.”

  “Friend,” Craig corrected her. “But you were saying?”

  “No!” Kylie said. She didn’t want Marc to continue, especially not with Craig there. She felt a sharp pain in her chest. She had to do something but her body was seizing up.

  Of all people, Ainsley came to her rescue. She stopped right in front of Marc, arms crossed over her chest.

  “Why is everyone so fucking obsessed with Kylie?”

  Marc looked indignant. “I’m not obsessed…”

  “What’s all this?” asked Shona.

  “So, if you could just direct me to the section that covers criminal justice,” Craig said, gesturing for Kylie to follow him.

  “Er, certainly, sir. Follow me.”

  She set off as fast as her legs would carry her, and if it weren’t for the fact that he was so much taller than her, he would never have been able to keep up.