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

by Paisley Alice Quinn

  She bombed up and down the pool, practicing different strokes: crawl, breaststroke, butterfly and backstroke. She had never swum naked before, though she had thought about it. She remembered Mairi and Ruth arguing about it as they boarded the bus one Saturday morning, speculating whether swimming nude would make them faster. The conversation had died when Coach got on behind them. Nobody had wanted to talk about such things in front of him.

  “Do you want me to turn the wave machine on?” Craig asked.

  “There’s a wave machine?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  He reached for the control panel and flipped the switch. Instantly, there was an automated warning, telling non-swimmers to get out of the pool and then the waves began, crashing up and over their heads, tossing them like boats on the ocean. Kylie closed her eyes and imagined she were really swimming out in the open water.

  “One day, I’m going to swim the channel,” she told him.

  “Didn’t you say it was like, six hundred miles to Denmark?”

  “Yes, yes I did.”

  He watched her open-mouthed. “I bet you could do it, too,” he said.

  She smiled at him. “I know I could.”

  30

  Their wonderful trip came to an end all too soon and when it was time to leave, Kylie felt an ache in the pit of her stomach.

  “You’re very quiet,” Craig observed, as she stared out the window on the train.

  “I’m just wiped out, that’s all,” she told him. “It’s been such an amazing weekend.”

  She met his eyes with a grateful smile. “Thank you. I can’t thank you enough.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and she enjoyed the warmth he gave her. It had all been so amazing, like a beautiful dream. These sorts of things didn’t happen to people like her. She had thought they only happened to people who deserved happiness.

  She would have to pay for her pleasures. No good thing had ever happened in her life without a bad thing to balance it out. Like when she’d got the job at the library. She hadn’t been the best candidate for the position, she was sure of that, but Muriel had seen something in her, and there had been a softness in her face that day. A softness she had rarely shown since. Kylie suspected she hadn’t always had it so easy. So when she noticed the hole in Kylie’s shoes, and the lack of experience on her résumé, she hadn’t sent her packing. Instead she’d said this:

  “We’ll hire you on a trial basis. But you’ve got to prove yourself, Kylie, every single day.”

  She had nodded, her eyes welling with tears, and she could have sworn Muriel’s eyes glistened as well. That was the only time Muriel ever showed her such kindness, but perhaps that was only time she had deserved it.

  Getting the job had been a big stroke of luck for Kylie, who had been on the verge of homelessness. She had been sofa surfing for a while, and her favours were running out. If she hadn’t got that job, she didn’t know what she would have done.

  Still, on her very first week in the job, some women from her old neighbourhood had happened to come in and the looks they’d given her could have turned milk sour. Then one of them had tripped her up as she carried a heavy box of books, and she’d gone sprawling onto the floor. They’d all laughed and pointed at her. People didn’t like it when you tried to rise above yourself, but rise she did.

  Then there had been the time she’d found Sinister, starving and scraggy and unwanted. There was something about black cats that put people off taking them in. Stupid people who believed in too many superstitions. There was nothing truly sinister about Sinister. She was a good cat despite being so standoffish. The more she scratched Kylie, the more she loved her. She couldn’t help that she’d had a bad life. But three days after she took Sin in, someone stole her bankcard and withdrew all her money. She was left penniless for a more than a fortnight, the one small blessing being that she had already bought Sinister’s food. So she had a pet to love, but no money. Kylie had learned her lesson, alright. Nothing good ever went unpunished.

  “Aren’t you coming home?” she asked, as Craig paused in front of their building.

  “In a mo. I’ve got to nip to the shop. I promised Flora I’d get her a bottle of tequila and I completely forgot. I’d better go now before all the shops are shut.”

  “All right then,” she said. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

  She skipped up the stairs to her flat and when she turned the key in the door, she was greeted with a pale fog. A strange smell filled her nose and she fanned her hand in front of her face. She’d convinced Andy to fumigate while she was away. She hadn’t told him where the fleas had come from, but he’d felt obliged to rid her of them, especially after she’d undone the top two buttons on her blouse. He’d even taken Sin for the weekend, so she wouldn’t have to breathe in the smoke.

  “It should be safe enough by Sunday morning,” he’d told her. “Just go around and open all the windows once you get in.”

  Well, it was Sunday evening now and the fog was thicker than she’d expected.

  Still, at least it had been done now. She hoped that would be the last she’d be seeing of the fleas. She took a step inside. The fumes were strong enough to make her cough and her eyes were smarting slightly. She’d have to ask Craig if she could spend the night at his.

  Her body tingled as she thought of Craig and all the fun she’d had with him that weekend. She was still sore from all the sex, and yet she hoped that he would be up for more. She reached down and pulled off one shoe and then the other, enjoying the comfort of bare feet. She felt too happy to punish herself right now. All snug and warm in her bubble.

  She was walking towards the window when there was a knock at the door. She went to open it and the smile slipped from her face.

  “Coach!”

  “Hello, Kylie. Aren’t you going to let me in?”

  She clicked her tongue. This was not his fault. She had told him to come over. She had thought she could handle him, but that had been then.

  “Have you brought the dog?” she asked.

  She looked behind him, but there was no sign of Dexter.

  “You can have the dog,” Coach said. “Just as soon as I get what I want from you.”

  “No,” she said, pushing him away. “I’ve decided it’s not worth it.”

  He pulled a face. “Now you’re toying with me, Kylie. You can’t make a promise and then break it. You’re not a politician, you know.”

  She smiled weakly at his joke, but her heart was far from calm. Not only did she not want this, but Craig would be back soon. What would he do if he caught her out here with Coach?

  “You’d better come inside,” she said, quickly ushering him in.

  His hands were already reaching for her, pawing at her skirt, but she swatted him off.

  “What if we come to some other arrangement,” she said coolly. “When I get paid, I’ll give you fifty pounds for the dog. How does that sound?”

  He shook his head.

  “And another fifty… for your trouble.”

  He laughed at her. Laughed and then choked, coughing at the pale fog which still floated around their faces.

  “What the fuck you been smoking in here?”

  “I’m been fumigating the flat,” she said pointedly. “Getting rid of some pests.”

  He laughed and coughed again.

  “Always dirty, Kylie. You never disappoint.”

  “Listen, Coach. You’ve got to stop this. I’m with Craig now. Whatever the hell this is between us, it has to stop. We have to stop hurting each other.”

  He pulled a face.

  “Are you breaking up with me?”

  “I was never with you. Now leave me alone.”

  She felt her eyes tearing up.

  “One more for old time’s sake?” he whispered, pulling up her skirt.

  She shook her head. The buzzing in her ears was back, louder than ever.

  He reached for her bum and pinched hard.

  “Stop it!”
>
  It made her cough to speak.

  “We’re Romeo and Juliet, me and you. If it ends, it ends in tragedy.”

  She coughed. “We’re not Romeo and Juliet. We’re beauty and the beast, only sometimes I’m not sure which of us is beauty and which is the beast.”

  “You’ve always been my beauty,” he said, running his hand through her hair. “And I’ve always been your beast.”

  His breathing sounded wrong, and his eyes looked red-rimmed and spider-veined. Water streaked down his eyes and she choose to believe he was crying. In all the time she had known him, she had never seen him cry. She wasn’t sure he could cry.

  “I love you, Kylie.”

  He said it so quietly she couldn’t be sure if she had imagined it.

  “Is that why you ruined my life?”

  He turned his body away from her. The fog was still too thick, penetrating her mind like a swarm of angry wasps.

  “I can’t see a bloody thing in here,” he said, reaching for the switch.

  It all happened in slow motion. She felt herself being catapulted across the room. She hit the doorframe hard and slid down into oblivion. The last thing she remembered were his final words:

  “What have you done to me, Kylie?”

  And then all was silent.

  31

  Craig walked back from the shop carrying a great deal more than the bottle of tequila he had gone in for. He’d bought a loaf of bread, a bottle of white wine to share with Kylie, and a large packet of condoms because he’d decimated his supply in one weekend.

  He whistled to himself as he paid and the cashier looked surprised to see him so upbeat.

  “Someone’s getting some,” she observed.

  Craig’s smile grew wide. “Indeed I am.”

  The road outside was quiet as was typical for a Sunday night. He wondered if he should stop off at Flora’s first or go straight up to Kylie. Even though he’d only seen her ten minutes ago, he already missed her. He couldn’t wait to wrap his arms around her and hold her tight. It wasn’t just about the sex, not for him at any rate. He loved being with her, loved discovering new things about her. Loved the way she looked at him and made him feel so loved.

  He pushed through the door to the building and walked up to Flora’s. Then he paused mid-knock. What if she had Marc over? The two of them had been joined at the hip lately. He might be interrupting something. He looked up the stairs to Kylie’s. The tequila could wait till the morning.

  He put his foot on the first step and was about to take the second, when a powerful force picked him up and threw him to the floor. The bottle of tequila smashed behind him, its contents spilling into the gap under Flora’s door.

  Stunned, he picked himself up off the floor. What the hell was that? An earthquake? In Edinburgh? He didn’t think so. The ground shook beneath him and the broken bottle rolled about as if it were on the deck of the Titanic. He looked up at the ceiling, wondering if it was going to collapse.

  “Kylie!” he yelled up the stairs. “Kylie!”

  Kylie did not reply.

  He belted up the stairs and rattled her door.

  “Kylie! Can you hear me?”

  She had not put the chain on, thank god, and he was able to kick the door open.

  Dust and debris moved as it opened, and he stepped back to see what else might fall.

  “Kylie?”

  The flat was full of smoke. There was something odd about that smoke. It had the wrong smell, reminding him of the supplements his grandmother took.

  He took a step inside and almost fell over the body in the doorway. It was large and cumbersome, clothed in a dust-covered tracksuit. Shards of wood and metal stuck out of it, like a human pin cushion. The body did not move or make any noise. He nudged it with his foot.

  Coach.

  He did not stop to check for a pulse.

  “Kylie!” he called again, his eyes streaming.

  He couldn’t find the source of the smoke, but he felt the warmth of the fire as it spread across the walls. The walls looked broken and damaged. It felt like both sides of the flat were shaking. He glanced up and saw that part of the ceiling was missing. A gaping hole gave him an eerie view up into his own flat above. He could make out his laptop lying next to his bed. The whole thing could come down any second.

  He moved carefully, stepping over the debris on the floor. Broken crockery lay side by side with the remains of Kylie’s TV, and there were bits of shelving and metal that must have come down from the walls. He looked up and saw the smoke alarm hanging off its hinges. It gave a weak bleep and gave up.

  Where was she?

  He stepped over a microwave and a piece of tile that had come down from the ceiling and that’s when he saw her arm. His heart thudded furiously as he rounded the corner. Kylie lay motionless on the floor, her arm out in front her. She was face down, her cheek turned slightly to one side.

  “Kylie! Baby!”

  Speaking only made him cough more. He knelt down at her side, relieved to find she was warm. Yes, he could hear her breathing, though her breath seemed weak and shallow. He too was struggling to breathe. The smoke formed a thick fog around them, and he knew they did not have long. He had to get them out before they both succumbed.

  Kylie moaned softly and he swooped down and lifted her up, bundling her over his shoulder. He fought his way back through all the rubble. There was more of it now, and the gap in the ceiling was larger. He stepped over the TV, and repositioned Kylie on his shoulder. Not a second later, a large piece of the ceiling landed in the place he had just vacated.

  “Fuck!”

  He felt a rush of air coming from where the window should have been, and the frame that remained rattled like a sail in the wind.

  We’ve got to get out of here.

  He heaved himself towards the door. He was so close he could touch it, but a large beam lay in his path, blocking the exit. Reluctantly, he set Kylie down on the ground. He was going to need both his hands if he was going to shift this thing.

  “Craig?”

  “It’s okay, baby. I’m going to get us out.”

  The beam was wedged at a difficult angle, making it very hard to move and the fire was spreading rapidly. If he didn’t do something fast, they were toast.

  A flash of anger shot through him. An unwelcome memory of the time he had spent inside. It had been six months, according to his calendar. But in his heart, it had felt like six years. It wasn’t right for a man to be caged like that, trapped like a creature in a zoo. The thought of it brought out something primal in him and gave him a strength he didn’t know he possessed.

  “I will not be trapped!”

  He flexed his muscles and pulled at the beam with his fists. It gave way slightly, but the lack of oxygen was getting to him, and it felt like the walls were closing in. He glanced down and saw Kylie wilting on the floor like a dying flower. If he didn’t move this beam, they were both going to die, trapped inside hell’s furnace.

  He let out a loud roar and pulled at the beam again. This time it shifted further. Not enough to get the door open, but enough that it stayed in position when he let go. He took one more breath and pulled again, straining under the weight. The beam screeched away from the door, bringing down a shower of debris on top of him. He shook the dust off his head, ignored the splinters and the blood pouring from his ear. He lifted Kylie and bundled her out of the door.

  The hallway was filled with smoke too now, and he could barely see the stairs in front of him.

  Got to keep going…

  The flames were not far behind them, the heat was still on his back. He took the stairs quickly, dragging Kylie along with him, too weak to lift her now. He could no longer see the way out, and he could only trust that he would be able to find it when he reached the bottom.

  A large piece of rubble came down behind him, and he heard the clang of a pipe as it rolled down the stairs. He charged forward, the banister slipping beneath his fingers.

  G
ot to keep going. Got to keep…

  The building gave a loud creak that was both eerie and musical. What was happening? What the actual fuck? The walls seemed to be bending in the middle, as if the whole thing was folding in on itself. He forged ahead, his feet hitting the last step, and he ran, coughing for the exit. He hit the door with his face and kept on going, bursting out into the cruel sun. He kept hold of Kylie, dragging her across the street with him until he finally collapsed to his knees.

  He gulped greedily at the air, desperate to catch his breath. Across the street, the building made one last creak of protest, and then there was a big bang. He threw himself over Kylie, waiting for more, but all was still. He sat up slowly and looked back. The roof had blown clean off the building and now sat neatly on the pavement in front of their house.

  “Will you look at that?” Craig stared at it, unable to believe his eyes.

  Kylie sat up slowly, her eyes were red and raw.

  She coughed badly, and he patted her on the back. She kept trying to say something but he couldn’t make it out.

  “Slow down,” he told her. “Take a breath.”

  “Flora!” she said, hoarsely. “What if she’s still inside?”

  32

  Kylie stared up at the burning building. It was her fault. All her fault.

  “I’ll bet she’s at Marc’s,” Craig said, wiping the soot from his face. “It will be alright, you’ll see.”

  She nodded and tried to breathe through her tears. She was too weak even to lift her head. Definitely too weak to drag herself to her feet and force her way back into the building. But Craig was about to do exactly that.

  “Wait there,” he told her bravely. “I’ll be right back.”

  She watched, amazed as he rose to his feet and charged across the road.

  A crowd had assembled on the pavement and an old woman gave Kylie her coat. A group of teenagers had already rung the emergency services. Five of them, each wielding a phone.