by Nigel May
‘That’s a nice thought. Considerate,’ said Blair.
‘My little sister has suffered so much. No one deserves to go through what she has lately. No one!’
Nikki stared across at Heather again. Despite everything, she looked incredible, her skin glowing in the Bajan sunshine as she sipped on a glass of sparkling water. She wore a loose-fitting T-shirt, a design of a unicorn and a rainbow splashed across the cotton in bright hues, over the top of her bikini. It was an upbeat ensemble for someone who had recently had to cope with so much misery.
‘Heather’s incredible,’ said Nikki, as Blair pulled her towards him again and planted a kiss on her lips. ‘Truly incredible,’ she added. ‘And so are you.’
Heather herself felt far from incredible, despite what the vibrancy of her outfit may have suggested. There was a rage burning inside as intense as the sun overhead. For a free spirit who had spent a lifetime living in harmony it was a sensation that was alien to her; one that she didn’t like, but couldn’t shift, rotting the beauty of her soul with a cancerous force. And her father was to blame.
When Heather had abducted the toddler in St Lucia she had been out of her mind. Something had broken inside her. All she saw was Coral, the little girl that she and Max would have had together, a new life to raise between them, to take their perfect life in an even more perfect direction. Could perfection be improved upon? She had believed so when she stared into the eyes of the toddler. Her innocence and beauty had eclipsed the misery and woe that had been strangling Heather’s own life. It had made her forget.
But then the police had arrived, and then the medics. Suddenly all of the misery, the despair and the heartache had returned. The child was gone and she was alone once more with her hatred and wretchedness.
Everything had been a black smudge of anger and bafflement until her mother had turned up. Suddenly there was Sutton to take her away from all of the people who were buzzing around her. Heather was unaware that her mother had paid the toddler’s parents a huge sum of money to prevent them from pressing charges. They understood why she had done as she had when Sutton explained to them about Max and her subsequent loss and so they had dropped any intended charges and the police and medics were forced to allow Sutton to take her daughter away. Sutton was convinced that a mother’s love would be more beneficial to her youngest daughter than any quack’s credentials could ever be. Within a matter of hours of her arrival on St Lucia, she had worked her maternal magic, packed a case for Heather and bundled her daughter onto a Velvet private jet back to Barbados.
Heather hadn’t seen her mother crying at all – but privately Sutton had been weeping. A lot. Heather’s breakdown in St Lucia and her stealing of the toddler from the beach had shocked Sutton to the core. She had cried at the hospital, tears that wouldn’t cease. She had cried as she comforted her daughter about the loss of her baby, silent tears falling as she held Heather close. She had cried as she watched Heather sleeping, tiredness taking her as she sat on the private jet heading back to Bridgetown.
It felt good for Heather to have her family around her. Life would never be the same again, but she needed some sort of stability and having both her mother and her sister close was proving beneficial. She was feeling stronger. More able to focus on what was needed for the future. A clarity was washing over her about what she had done back in St Lucia, about the madness that had possessed her: she could see that taking the toddler had been wrong, could see the pain she must have caused to the parents of the child. Family was so important – she could see that now.
Heather looked around her on the catamaran. Her lips looped into a smile as she watched Nikki and Blair leaping into the sea from the edge of the boat, their bodies disappearing underneath the clear surface in a foaming of bubbles and then rising back into the air, grins painted across their faces. She watched as they swam around, gazing at the turtles, large and yet somehow graceful in their size, moving below them. She listened as Blair excitedly shouted that he had touched one with his feet, inadvertently using the creature as a makeshift surfboard. Heather looked across at her mother, sitting in a shaded area of the catamaran, working on her laptop. She had no idea what she was doing – maybe answering emails about the upcoming boxing match. Perhaps shopping online on some designer website or hunting for a new man on a millionaires dating site. She wouldn’t blame Sutton if she had been looking elsewhere. If she were married to a man like her father then she would search elsewhere as well. He was to blame for Max’s death and the loss of the baby that had been growing inside her. Sutton deserved so much better than a man who would bribe his way out of a situation and put his own reputation before honesty and love for his own family.
It felt good to be around her family but as far as Heather was concerned her father would never be a real member of the Rivers family again. Blood may be thicker than water but nothing could beat the viscosity of what raged inside her. He would never be her father again. Not now. She would see to that.
Heather lay back on the leather cushions she was resting on, the sounds of the water lapping around the catamaran and the tapping of Sutton’s manicured fingers on the keyboard filling her ears. She closed her eyes, an image of her father’s face scorched across the greyness of her thoughts. She would try to sleep. It was always good to sleep before you pronounced sentence, was it not?
Heather had no idea how long she’d been asleep when she was woken by the sound of her mother’s laptop making the strangest of noises. Recognising it as the sound of someone calling up on Skype, she looked around to see where the others were. They were all lying in the sunshine, spread across the mesh of criss-cross ropes that decorated the front of the boat. Sutton and Nikki both stirred as the sound of the Skype call hit their ears. Heather was staring at them.
‘Can you grab that, Heather honey?’ said Sutton, rising to her feet and carefully treading across the vortex of binding she’d been lying on. ‘I’m coming over. It could be Hatton or Fidge about the fight. As long as it’s not your dreaded father…’ The words had fallen from her lips automatically.
‘Sure,’ replied Heather, moving to the laptop and pressing the button to answer the call. It wasn’t Hatton or Fidge who appeared in the Skype window, but Heather’s great-grandmother, Pasinetta, whose aging beauty filled the screen. Heather loved Pasinetta and immediately smiled upon seeing her. Pasinetta, who had obviously not been expecting to see Heather, smiled broadly as she looked at her great-granddaughter.
‘It’s Great-Grandma,’ smiled Heather as Sutton reached her, the words causing Nikki to raise herself from her sun worship and join the other two women gathered in front of the computer screen. Blair continued to doze in the sunshine.
Pasinetta beamed as the three women pooled together so that she could see the entire trio. ‘Well, this is certainly an unexpected delight, seeing all three of you together.’
‘Hi, Grandma,’ smiled Sutton. ‘I’ve been meaning to phone you, but there’s been a lot going on lately. I’m so sorry. But yeah, it’s great having my girls with me right now. We’re on a boat, turtle-spotting. Heather’s here and so is Nikki, with her new boyfriend.’
‘It’s so good to see you looking so well, Heather, especially after losing Max so recently. He was a lovely man and I miss him.’
‘Thank you, Great-Grandma,’ said Heather. She and Max had visited Pasinetta many times when they had stayed at their New York apartment. It had been Max who had first switched the elderly lady onto the joys of Skype after she’d watched one of his demonstrations on shopping TV. Pasinetta was a lot more switched on than most women half her age when it came to the delights of social media and communication. Before the end of the day Max had set her up with her own Facebook page and Twitter account. Heather wouldn’t be at all surprised if she started vlogging one of these days.
‘And Sutton, I am so sorry for you and Sheridan over the death of Julian. I know he was a good worker and friend to you both.’
Sutton pursed her lips in annoy
ance at the mention of her husband’s name, stretching the already taut skin into a small peak. She let it go – Pasinetta didn’t need to know about the grief that Sheridan was causing his family right now.
‘He was a good man, I’ll miss him,’ said Sutton, deliberately avoiding all reference to her husband.
‘And Nikki, I assume this new man of yours is the DJ chap, Blair Lonergan. He’s a stud muffin if ever I saw one!’
Nikki laughed. Her great-grandmother never ceased to amaze her. She had more life and sass in her than any other member of the Rivers family, despite her age. She was sharper than a craft knife.
‘Yes, he is!’ giggled Nikki. ‘I’ll tell him you approve. But how on earth do you know about me dating Blair? It’s not really common knowledge.’
‘Well, I assume the whole world can make the same assumption as me after watching that interview with you fainting, dear girl. You had me quite worried about you. The interview is all over the Google, or whatever it’s called.’
‘The what?’ questioned Sutton.
‘Google. It’s where I search for information about all of you. I like to keep an eye on what’s going on with my family. I may be old but I’m still able to track down what you lot are up to. Plus, you know I like to record anything I can when you’re on the TV. Between you, Scream Queens, Total Divas and Telenovela my TV box is looking rather full right now.’
‘You are so switched on,’ smiled Heather. Sutton took a moment to reflect on how fabulous it was to see her youngest daughter smiling after everything she had been through.
‘Thank you, Heather, I try.’ Pasinetta smiled too, but the smile quickly disappeared as she moved the conversation in a different direction. ‘But I do need to speak to you, Sutton. It’s about something quite delicate. That’s why I’m contacting you. I just didn’t expect to see Nikki and Heather at the same time.’
‘Do you need us to leave?’ enquired Nikki.
‘I’ll let Sutton call that one,’ said Pasinetta. ‘It’s about your mother’s killer, Sutton.’
Sutton let the words sink in before answering. ‘If it concerns the family, the girls can stay. I have nothing to hide from them. No secrets. Unlike some I could mention…’ She wrapped her arms around her two daughters as if offering her undying loyalty to them, the dig at Sheridan not going unnoticed.
‘Okay, well I was wondering how soon you can get here, Sutton. I have some news I’d like to share with you. I need to show you something.’
Sutton looked confused. ‘Show us what?’
‘You’ll see,’ said Pasinetta. ‘Would you come?’
‘Of course, Grandma, I can be there by the end of the day. Is that okay?’
‘That would be great. I need to show you something in person and bring the girls too if you can.’
‘Why? You’re worrying me.’
‘Because I believe I’ve finally seen the man who killed your mother, Sutton, and I think he may be someone who’s a lot closer to you than I would ever wish.’
‘We’re on our way.’
The three women were heading to the airport to fly to New York mere minutes after docking the catamaran back at Bridgetown harbour, leaving an understanding and slightly sunburnt Blair to head back to Velvet.
56
‘You’re a dirty bitch, Kassidy, I’ll give you that!’ smirked Sheridan as his assistant worked her lips up and down the length of his erect shaft.
Kassidy was in no mood to answer as she expertly twisted her hand around her boss’s cock and let her tongue flick across it. Plus, the fact that she had her mouth full was hardly conducive to a decent conversation.
What would she have said anyway? That she would rather suck on a mouldy root vegetable than chew down on Sheridan’s cock right now? That was the truth of the matter after all. She was over fucking her boss. Almost thirty and not so much as a boyfriend, what was going on? She should have been out attracting men with the Hollywood looks of Channing Tatum or Zac Efron, but instead she was working the salty length of a man old enough to be her father.
Sheridan had requested that she turn up at his suite at Velvet Barbados. He had been a little drunk by the time she arrived, a tumbler of whisky swirling around in his hand as he demanded that Kassidy kneel down in front of him. She had obeyed, as she knew she must do, but his barking of orders was anything but sexy. His voice was raised, his grip on her hair as he pushed her to her knees more than a little rough, with little to no thought for how he might be hurting her. And as he unzipped his fly, removed his erect cock – not so freshly laundered as Kassidy would have liked – and shoved it into her mouth, she could feel herself gag with disgust and horror as she caught sight of herself in the bedroom mirror. What was once a reflection of lust, horniness and ambition was now no more than a reflection of her own shame. Thoughts of her downtrodden mother came into her head as she serviced Sheridan. For a moment Kassidy hated herself. Was she more of a chip off the old bullied block than she cared to admit?
Sheridan let her work her fellating ways for a good few minutes before pulling his cock from her mouth and demanding with a slur that she fetch him another drink from the bar in his suite. He couldn’t go himself because of the Savile Row trousers around his ankles. And anyhow, this was only Kassidy, she worked for him so she could fucking do it as far as he was concerned. It wasn’t like she was some woman he really needed to impress. Poking someone on the payroll had its benefits.
Kassidy walked over to the bar. She was fully dressed. Sheridan hadn’t asked her to take her clothes off. Maybe he wouldn’t. It looked like he was merely in the mood for being blown.
As she was pouring another good dose of whisky into his glass, she spotted the will lying on top of the bar: signed, sealed but as yet undelivered. She’d wondered where it had been. Sheridan had demanded to see it again, which had sent Kassidy into free-fall panic. She needed to have it filed with his solicitor before Sheridan spotted any of the changes she had made in the small print, involving money being left to her as his loyal assistant. She’d been paranoid about the will ever since she had managed to convince him to sign it on the flight to Toronto. The longer he had it back in his grasp, the more likely it would be that he would pore over the finer details and discover her treachery. Her few camouflaged alterations could be the key to life after Sheridan.
She picked up the will and turned to look at Sheridan. He was swaying and muttering something about Hatton Eden. She wasn’t sure what.
He spotted Kassidy looking at him. ‘Get that fucking mouth of yours back over here, will you? My cock is wilting! It’s not as hard as some other women make it. You must be losing your touch, Kassidy. Come and sort it out.’
Sheridan’s taunts would normally have sliced at Kassidy like a knife but not now. Something inside her made her know what she had to do. She started to unbutton her blouse and opened it, exposing the purple Agent Provocateur bra that lay underneath. She stared as Sheridan’s glazed eyes moved down to her breasts and watched him pump his cock into life in his hand again as she moved her hands around her back and unhooked her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her blouse followed, as did her skirt and footwear, leaving her standing there in nothing but the most micro of lacy underwear. A sense of satisfaction hit her as she watched Sheridan’s member rise back up to its fully girthed glory. No matter how he treated her, it was still good to know that her body could have the desired effect on a man… even a bastard like Sheridan Rivers.
‘Wanna screw?’ she purred, turning around so that she was facing away from him. As she spoke, she pulled down her panties across the raised pink orbs of her butt cheeks and slid them down her legs. She kicked them off and then spread her legs into an upturned V-shape, bending herself forwards so that she was staring back at Sheridan through her open legs and then reaching up to part the outer layers of her pussy, spreading it wide to invite him to the delights within.
Whereas a few minutes earlier her pussy had been dry while she fellated Sheridan, no feelings o
f lust or any degree of horniness sweeping through her, suddenly the ripe, juicy folds of her sex were wet and slicked with anticipation. There was an excitement about what was to come that had nothing to do with the sex – that was merely a foreplay to the climax that she hoped would end the evening. A climax she was hoping to orchestrate by using her powers as a woman. Something that she suspected her mother had never done.
Sheridan moved towards her and without saying a word slid his cock into her from behind. The force of his actions, the size of his rod and the drunken swaying of his condition caused Kassidy to nearly fall forward but she held her ground, placed her hands on the floor to steady herself and pushed herself back onto his girth. It felt good, helped by the images of Hollywood stars she would really like to fuck flooding through her mind.
Kassidy rode his cock well – she wanted this over. It was only a matter of minutes before Sheridan let out a smug gasp of masculine completion as he emptied his balls and slapped her bare butt, hard enough to leave a pink stain on the tender skin. After that he swayed and shuffled to the sofa, his trousers still around his legs, and fell onto it with another exhalation of satisfaction at its comfort.
