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

by Paisley Alice Quinn

  Everyone huddled around her like penguins trying to keep warm, and all the while the fire blazed.

  Someone propped something under her head, and she was able to see Craig leap over Flora’s balcony, using a fallen pipe to smash open her window.

  “Flora!” she heard him shout between fits of coughing. “Flora!”

  She thought she heard a reply, but she couldn’t be sure if it was really Flora or just her imagination. She watched as Craig battled his way in through the glass, her heart pounding furiously as he risked his life for a second time.

  Sirens blared in the distance. Help was coming. She wanted to get up and pull Craig out of danger’s way. The fire brigade would have all the proper equipment: hoses and ladders, proper breathing apparatus that would allow them to sift through the rubble. Craig had nothing but his bare hands. He needed to get out now. He needed to be safe.

  She didn’t want to think about Flora. If she was in there, she would have breathed in a lot of smoke. She didn’t want the tears to keep falling, and she was shaking like a tree in high winds. She just wanted it all to be over and she wanted it to not be her fault.

  The sirens were close now. Police. Ambulance. Fire Brigade. She wasn’t sure. She collapsed back down on the pavement, causing the bystanders to fuss over her in a way she couldn’t stand. She had no strength to stop them. She was weak, weak in mind and weak in nature. And she was dirty, covered in soot and smoke and fumes that lingered in her hair and penetrated every pore, every cell until she felt like dirt itself.

  She drifted in and out of consciousness though she continued to hear every sound.

  “Just let us do our job, son.”

  “But she’s in there!”

  “Who’s in there?”

  “Flora. My friend.”

  Kylie let out a long breath when she heard his voice. Craig! He must be all right because he was talking.

  “Can you hear me, miss? Can you tell me your name?”

  A paramedic was standing over her, pulling a mask over her face. She didn’t want it and she tried to push it away, but he was very insistent.

  “This will make you feel better, hen.”

  “I don’t want to feel better. If I feel better, then everything will just get worse.”

  She gulped for air, and the paramedic immediately reapplied the mask.

  “Please lie back. This isn’t doing you any good.”

  She had no choice but to comply. Her head was swimming and her mind was screaming. She wished Craig would hurry back to her, and then, there he was, holding her just like she needed. She saw that a fresh layer of soot had settled on his nose.

  “They’re bringing someone out,” he said.

  She craned her neck to see and let out an animalistic cry of despair as she saw the body.

  “It’s Coach,” she said.

  “No, I’m afraid it’s Marc.”

  She collapsed back onto him.

  If Marc was there, Flora must be too. Where was she?

  There was a lot of commotion on the pavement. Another ambulance arrived and she could hear them trying in vain to bring Marc back.

  “We’re taking you two to hospital now,” the paramedic said.

  “No, wait! What about Flora?”

  “We’ll update you as soon as we know more.”

  The paramedic’s voice sounded strangely robotic. As if he was programmed to come out with that response. Kylie felt herself being lifted onto a stretcher and wished the pain in her lungs was much worse.

  “It’s my fault,” she sobbed. “I knew this would happen.”

  Craig took her hand in his. “You knew there was going to be an explosion?”

  “Things were getting too good. I had such a good time with you in Perth, Craig, and this is the price we have to pay. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.”

  “You’re not making any sense, baby. How can it possibly be your fault?”

  “Because that’s the way things work,” she said, tears dampening her shirt. “There’s no pleasure without pain.”

  “Of course, there is. None of these things are connected. You have to believe me, Kylie.”

  She lay back as they lifted her up into the ambulance. Craig climbed in too and sat opposite her. Then the doors closed with a finality that scared her. There had been no word about Marc, and she knew instinctively it wasn’t good. She pictured them covering his body with a blanket. And Flora. There had been no word of Flora. She must still be inside.

  She descended into the blackness then, the happiness of the weekend forgotten in the pain that now engulfed her. The way she saw it, she had a choice to make. If she didn’t suffer then Flora would. They wouldn’t both survive this, she knew it deep in her bones.

  She hadn’t been inside a hospital in a long time, not since her father had died. In fact, she had studiously avoided the place. Had refused to go for x-rays the time she broke her tail bone. Had made excuses not to visit when Ruth had broken her foot. But now here she was, arriving in an ambulance no less, the paramedics wheeling her inside. She looked around and couldn’t understand why it all looked so normal. So many people, milling about like they had nothing better to do. Buying hot drinks from the coffee shop, browsing the books in the gift shop. Choosing to spend time there when most of them looked well.

  The doctor was speaking to her in a kind but brisk manner, checking her chest and lungs.

  “We’re going to keep you in overnight, Kylie, but between you and me, I think you’ll do just fine.”

  “Thank you,” she said dully. She knew she ought to feel more gratitude for all the care these people had shown her but she didn’t feel grateful. She felt barely alive.

  The doctor studied her as if she was a puzzle he needed to solve.

  “Don’t you worry, I’m sure they’ll figure out a place for you to stay by the time we discharge you.”

  “I’ll find us a place,” Craig said.

  They were discharging him despite the fact he still had a cough.

  “Thank you,” she said. “But where will you stay tonight?”

  “I’m sure I can kip at a friend’s place. One of the lads on my course. If not, I’ll book into a hotel.”

  She leaned closer. “The fire - do they know what happened?”

  “They think the spark generated when the light was switched on, ignited the chemicals used in the fumigation.”

  She nodded, but she still didn’t understand. How could a fumigation result in something so disastrous? Andy had said he’d fix the problem. She could never have imagined it would result in anything so bad.

  “And Coach?” she said, hating herself for asking. “Is there any news of him?”

  “Coach is dead,” he said, taking her hand in his.

  He watched her face keenly, but her expression didn’t change.

  “Are you sure?”

  Craig nodded grimly. “I’m sorry Kylie, I know this must be hard for you.”

  “Not hard,” she said. She wasn’t sure what it was.

  They wheeled her up to the ward and Craig stayed at her bedside for a while. He was there when the news came about Flora. The news they’d been waiting to hear.

  “They found Flora,” the nurse said. “She’s in a bad way though. You won’t be able to see her yet I’m afraid.”

  Tears pricked Kylie’s eyes. “Is she going to make it?”

  “I can’t promise anything at this stage. The next twenty-four hours will be critical. She needs to rest, and for that matter, so do you.”

  “Thank you,” Craig said, squeezing Kylie’s hand.

  “And what about Marc?”

  “I’m afraid Marc was pronounced dead at the scene.”

  “Oh god!”

  “I’m terribly sorry. I know it’s a lot for you both to take in.”

  Craig nodded and thanked her and then she slipped away, back to care for the people she could help.

  “Marc didn’t deserve to die,” she said, tears spilling down her cheeks.r />
  “It’s not your fault, Kylie. It was just a horrible accident. I want you to remember that. And try to get some rest.”

  She lay back against the pillows, but she knew she could never forgive herself. Her happiness had already caused too many casualties. She was going to have to do something drastic before anyone else got hurt.

  Craig wrapped his arms around her, and she took some comfort in his warmth.

  “I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now,” another nurse said, interrupting their embrace. “Visiting hours are over and Kylie needs her rest. I bet you do too.”

  “But he’s got nowhere to go!” Kylie said, fresh tears streaking down her face.

  “That’s okay,” Craig said, pulling himself to his feet. “I’ll sort us out with somewhere to stay, Kylie. Try not to worry, baby. Okay?”

  Kylie’s eyes were large and watery when he left her, but she looked so tired that he knew he was doing the right thing. A good rest would make her feel better. Especially if he could bring her the news that he’d rescued the dog.

  He left the hospital and caught a bus to the town centre and walked around the corner to Canton Street. It wasn’t far, although he made a wrong turn at the corner and had to retrace his steps. Yes, there it was, the house where Coach had lived. The garden gate was wide open, and the wind had whipped rubbish all over the lawn. He walked up to the door and knocked, even though he didn’t expect anyone to answer.

  He was met with an excited yapping sound.

  “Are you in there, buddy?” he called. “It’s all right. I’m going to get you out.”

  The dog popped up at the window. He didn’t look right, his eyes seemed dry and sunken and there was a helplessness in his bark. Perhaps he already sensed the death of his master. Dogs loved their owners, no matter how cruel. Or perhaps he was simply suffering from dehydration. He didn’t know when Coach had last fed him.

  He tried the door and found it locked. Dexter barked more incessantly. It broke his heart, the way he kept pawing at the door. He cased the building, looking for a way to get him out. There had to be some way. All he needed was an open window.

  When he failed to find one, he picked up a loose brick that he found by the shed. He held it in his hands and wondered if he dared. Dexter was desperate to get out, but he didn’t want to frighten him. All the same, how much longer could he leave him to fend for himself? It was not a difficult decision. He swung back his arm and smashed it against the glass. It shattered neatly, just as he’d hoped, leaving a hole large enough to get his hand in. He took the brick and knocked more of the glass out, clearing the way for the dog.

  “Stay back!” he called. “Let me just move all this out of your way.”

  He must have heard the sound of a car pulling up but he’d been so intent on what he was doing, so concerned for the welfare of the dog, that it didn’t register until the police officer was virtually on top of him.

  “Are you the owner of this house?”

  “No, I… he’s just passed away. I came to get his dog. Look, he’s trapped inside.”

  The policeman eyed him warily.

  “Have you got any ID on you, son?”

  Craig felt his face grow hot as he handed over his driving license.

  “Look, I’ll pay for the window,” he pleaded. “Just, please. Help me get the dog. He looks frightened and thirsty and I don’t want him getting cut on the glass.”

  A second police officer appeared beside him. She had a softer face than her partner.

  “I’ll deal with the dog,” she offered.

  He nodded gratefully.

  “What brought you to this residence this evening?”

  Craig coughed. The residue of the smoke lingered in his lungs and he knew he must look a sight.

  “Coach… Fraser promised the dog to my girlfriend. He was killed in a fire earlier this evening and Kylie – my girlfriend is recovering in hospital. It would mean so much to her if she could have the dog.”

  He waited while the first officer went to the car to check out his story. He returned with a grim look on his face. He knew that look. No one believed a word he said once they heard he was an ex-con.

  “Craig Leland Campbell, I’m arresting you on suspicion of breaking and entering.”

  “I haven’t entered!”

  “With the intention of entering. I must inform you that you do not have to say or do anything, but anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?”

  He swallowed. “I understand, but do you really have to arrest me? I was just trying to save the wee dog.”

  33

  “I need to make a phone call,” Craig said as soon as they arrived at the police station. “My girlfriend will be worried if she doesn’t hear from me. She’s in a very fragile state.”

  The police officer gave him a patient nod.

  “You have the right to one phone call. If I were you, I would use it to contact a lawyer.”

  “You’re not hearing me. I really need to speak to Kylie.”

  “What about a lawyer?”

  “You have to provide me with one, don’t you? I’d rather use my one call to speak to my girl.”

  Ringing the hospital proved to be fruitless. He got the switchboard to put him through to Kylie’s ward, but the nurse there told him that the patients couldn’t take calls.

  “Can you just tell her I called then?” he said. “And that the dog’s just fine.”

  It wasn’t strictly true, but he wanted to put Kylie’s mind at rest. He knew from experience how these things could get dragged out. Even if he wasn’t in a whole heap of shit. Even if they didn’t send him straight back to jail.

  He fought the urge to kick the wall. He couldn’t be in here, he had promised himself. He couldn’t be locked up again, he genuinely didn’t think he could take it. And Kylie, poor Kylie. How was she supposed to manage without him? He was supposed to be picking her up from the hospital in the morning. He was supposed to be finding them somewhere to stay. Instead, he was here at the police station, where they would undoubtably lock him in a cell.

  I can be locked up again, I can’t.

  It wasn’t just about him this time, though he was going nuts. He was worried about Kylie. She was so damned beautiful, and she didn’t even know it. And she had that damaged vibe about her, the kind predators picked up on. She needed him there to look out for her. Otherwise he’d go crazy with worry.

  The night passed in a blur of changing shadows. Kylie tossed and turned but it was impossible to sleep. One of the other women on the ward kept crying out in her sleep, and another snored like a tank running over bubble wrap, making strange popping sounds with her nose. It would be funny if she weren’t so fucking tired.

  She rolled over painfully, fresh tears wetting her pillow. No one could tell her anything more about Flora. She knew she was in a coma, but there was no word on when or if she would wake up. And she couldn’t believe Marc was gone. Sweet, kind, slightly awkward Marc. A man who’d never done anyone any harm. It wasn’t fair that he was dead, and she was still here. It wasn’t fair at all.

  “You might like to take a shower,” the nurse suggested in the early hours when she saw that Kylie was still awake. “The bathroom is just through there; you can grab a fresh towel and a wash kit from the nurse’s station on the way.”

  “Thank you,” she said.

  She didn’t deserve the nurses’ kindness either. The nicer they were to her, the guiltier she felt. Coach would not have been in her flat if she hadn’t invited him over. Andy wouldn’t have had to fumigate if she had never stolen Dexter. Every way she looked at it, she was responsible. She was supposed to die in that fire, and if it weren’t for Craig she would have.

  The bathroom was empty when she walked inside. She stripped off her clothes without bothering to close the curtain. She threw her things in a heap on the floor and hung the towel up on the hook, then she turned on the tap to the coldest setting.

  The nurse had given her a wa
sh kit in a little blue bag. She unzipped it and had a look inside. It was much too nice for the likes of her, containing a new pink washcloth and a sachet of honey scented shampoo. A neat bar of soap nestled in its wrapper. She unwrapped it and set it on the window ledge, then she pulled the cloth from the bag. Underneath was a small disposable razor. She removed the cover and examined the metal blade. It looked a little blunt, but it would have to do.

  She stepped under the water, shivering violently at the coldness. Her pale skin was covered with goose bumps and her knees knocked together as she slathered the soap all over her body.

  She picked up the razor and began to run it up and down her legs. They were already quite smooth because she had shaved thoroughly for Craig at the hotel. She winced as the razor nicked the skin on her thigh and set it down for a moment, bracing herself for what must come next. She had to do this. Only she had the power to save Flora.

  She looked up and saw a strange man in a wine-red dressing gown, not one of the hospital standard issue ones but a warm, luxurious one he must have brought from home. As she watched, he undid the front tie and let the gown fall open, revealing his pale, naked body and a cock that stood to attention.

  She shuddered and went to draw the curtain, now aware of her own nakedness and vulnerability. But something stopped her. She thought of Flora, fighting for her life in intensive care. Maybe she was supposed to do this. Maybe this was meant to happen. She reached for the shampoo and squeezed a generous amount out into her hand. She locked eyes with the stranger as she massaged it into her hair. She did not drop eye contact as she used the resulting bubbles to soap her breasts.

  His tongue fell out as she moved her hand down, rubbing the entrance to her slit. She spread her legs and rubbed the space around her clit, feeling her juices flow. The excitement was building inside her and she came noisily, moaning as she got herself off. Then she turned and faced the wall, bending over to give the pervert a view of her butt cheeks. She worked herself up again, one hand leaning on the wall, the other working herself up into a state of frenzy. She came again, quivering as the orgasm rippled through her body. She glanced back at him and saw that he was rubbing his own hardness, his face growing hot as he did. She kept her eyes on him as she delved into her entrance with her fingers. The cold water made her shiver as she climaxed, and she smiled as the come ran down his cock and splashed his toes. He never touched her, and she never touched him. She didn’t even like him. She only knew that she had no choice.