Skin of the Night: Book One of The Night series

by Claire D. Bennett

  Suddenly, lies had become my closest friends. Deception had seemed the only way. It was a gamble, but then I had nothing to lose. He – whose name I refused to mention out of spite – had the luxury of owning her fond laughter, her gentle kiss of good morning, her loving touch after lovemaking and her mysterious thoughts as she confided in him before sleep. I had no claim on such luxuries at all. I felt poorer now than I ever had because her affection wasn’t mine to keep.

  She’d left behind a vacancy in me that could only be filled by her. Upon realising that, I had made it my quest to win her over once she started work, but I knew I’d have to change my strategy. The weeks leading up to June, I had spent cogitating on how to proceed.

  Although I had been satisfied with the discovery, my pursuit of friendship had failed. She had confessed she couldn’t stop herself from thinking of me, that I had distracted her so profoundly that her focus had shifted from her ambitions and onto me, and I had inferred from it that she harboured at least some interest that I could nurture. However, I knew I had to be careful about it.

  To spare her education, she had begged me to abandon her, and while I had agreed at the time, I hadn’t told her it would only be temporary. I’d respected her wish solely because I knew how important her education was to her. In light of her relationship with him, it had been a difficult decision, but for her, there were few things I wouldn’t do. Alas, it had enabled my jealousy over their bond to fester beyond measure. After dark, I’d lie in my bed and imagine her beside him, on top of him, the melody of her moans ringing in my ears like a customised means of torture.

  I could still hear her so clearly – sometimes so plainly that it might as well have been my current circumstance. The sound of her pleasure haunted me even in my sleep. There had been pure ecstasy present in her moans, and I hadn’t been the one to deliver it. He had.

  To end my agony that day, I had pushed over the shoe cabinet and the coat stand in the hope of ending their session. It had been an impulsive action, but I had feared that calling her name would only have made them quiet down – pause, at best. It had occurred to me to leave without making my presence known, but the part of me that resented her for her actions had forced me to remain. Instead of leaving, it had urged me to draw her out only so that I could force her to face what she had done. I’d wanted her to know I was there, and that I had heard her. In fact, I had experienced it as a compulsion. I had hoped it would stir some remorse in her, perhaps even inspire her to change her mind and pick me over him, but instead, all she had offered were rational apologies, and I hated them all, for reason had deserted me in favour of love.

  I’d felt so hollow in the wake of it that I still hadn’t recovered the parts of me that the sound had carved out. It had wounded me more than anything else ever had. What made it especially unbearable was knowing I was not entitled to my feelings. Rationally, she had done nothing wrong. She wasn’t mine, and she owed me no loyalty.

  I sometimes projected my hate for that fact onto her. Indeed, I frequently hated her as though she had committed the worst imaginable crime a lover could. It repulsed me to know that she would allow him to touch her the way I was supposed to, and it made me feel sick to know that she furthermore enjoyed it. He wasn’t right for her, and it drove me mad that she couldn’t see it.

  I’d taken it as an insult that she favoured him over me. It made me feel inferior. I hated the idea that she preferred his company to mine in bed, because it could only mean he was able to offer her pleasures where I had failed. I’d been an inadequate lover. Despite my ardent efforts, I hadn’t been able to love her body sufficiently. Why else would she have chosen him? My touch hadn’t been addictive. The pleasure I had meant to provide had been deficient.

  ‘The right one will be there at the right time,’ she had told me during that awful day in May. All I had heard was that he might still be there, just waiting for her to reach the point when a relationship would be something she’d want. She’s been with him for three years already. In light of that, I was confident he was in love with her, too. The only reason he hadn’t made romantic advances yet was that he knew how she worked. Like me, he knew how formidable the strength of her convictions was. In all likelihood, he had settled upon strategic patience because of that. Then, the instant they weakened, he would strike.

  What made matters worse was that, from her perspective, he didn’t carry the same risks as I did. She’d made it clear that my role as her boss prevented her from considering me in a romantic light. Being her best friend’s brother didn’t aid my case, either. He had none of those titles. Instead, he owned the title of being her lover. The advantage that gave him in the battle for her affections made me ill with jealousy and fear. Considering her threshold, the likelihood that she would date him was far higher than the likelihood that she would date me.

  They’d been sleeping together for three entire years. That could easily advance into a relationship. I had no guarantee that her feelings towards him wouldn’t evolve soon. It was evident she already harboured some version of love for him, or else she wouldn’t have been so attached. And I was scared that love could grow. What if, in a few months, she realised she’d like to keep him around for years to come? She’d told me what a comfort he was, how simple he made her life, that he was ‘exactly’ what she needed. What if that inspired her to make their situation permanent?

  I couldn’t bear the thought.

  At first, I had considered whether to wait for her – at least suspend my pursuit until her vacation scheme was over – but her relationship with him had convinced me I could not. Waiting could cost me my only chance with her. I couldn’t afford to take that risk. I had to act now – when there might still be some trace of affection for me left in her. And, most importantly, I had to be there before him.

  While biding my time until she felt ready to settle down with someone, I would try to warm her up to the idea of being with me. I’d show her that, rather than take from her, I meant to give to her – everything in my power to help her reach her goals. She was convinced she could manage it on her own, and while I was sure she could, too, my presence in her life would make it even easier, not harder. I meant to prove that to her – that I’d be a convenience, not a burden.

  “Spare me the brooding, Will,” Violet said, and I was instantly jolted out of my thoughts and into my current situation. I’d been here several times since that fateful night and several times before then. Still, Disrepute now reminded me only of Cara. It was strange how empty it seemed without her presence.

  “Who’s brooding?” I said and looked over to acknowledge Violet by my side.

  “You are.”

  “I was enjoying a moment of thought.”

  She curved a neatly plucked brow and raised her gin and tonic to her mouth. “You’re horrible company.”

  “Where’s Andy gone?” I queried when I noticed his absence. He’d been here just a minute ago, entertaining her. Had he left me with the task instead?

  “The gents’,” she explained with a shrug. “Anyway, what’s eating you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Don’t offend me, Will. I can tell when you’re lying.”

  Sometimes, her ability to read me irritated me rather a lot. Then again, it was precisely her ability to do that which had summoned me into her bed that first time, now a year ago. In Violet, I had discovered a kindred spirit. While our bodies were composed of different genes, I could easily have mistaken her for a long-lost twin. She was almost as calculating as I was, and she was undoubtedly one of the more perceptive people I’d met. I’d learnt with time that it was her ability to perceive people’s true intentions that had led her to dislike people in general. We had bonded over her view on that, as I frequently found myself guilty of the same. It was arrogant of us to presume we were above others, but then people often did such silly things it was difficult not to. If only people would care to think,
so much could have been avoided.

  “What do you want me to say?” I replied with irritation.

  “I want you to admit that Cara’s absence tonight is bothering you.”

  Rolling my eyes, I reached for my glass of lager and looked away from her.

  Since Violet and I had always confided in each other about almost everything, she’d been one of the first to know that I had fallen in love. Though I hadn’t expected anything else, she’d been supportive. When I had confessed that Cara was the target of my affections and that she would start working with us, she had immediately suggested that we should end our arrangement so that we might avoid unnecessary trouble. I’d been surprised at that point, as I hadn’t expected her to be on my wavelength quite so perfectly. While I had brought it up with the intention of ending things, she had beaten me to it, and I doubted I could ever tell her enough how much I appreciated that.

  After a sip, I answered, “What’s the point in telling you something you already seem to know?”

  “Well, I was mainly looking to introduce the subject,” she replied, and her sly method left a faint smile on my mouth. I wished she played chess. I would have loved having her as an opponent.

  “Why is that?”

  “Ellie told me something curious today, which you’ve failed to mention.”

  “Which is?”

  “I heard Francesca paid you a visit on Wednesday.”

  I sighed. Elisabeth and her never-ending blabbering. After a slow nod, I turned to face her. “She did.”

  “What’s that all about? I thought you ended things with her last week.”

  “I did,” I said. “She showed up unannounced to beg me for a second chance.”

  The news surprised her. “Christ. Where’s her pride? I never understood what you saw in her.”

  “I saw nothing. That was in fact the problem,” I reminded her curtly.

  She frowned. “Did Cara see her?”

  “She did.”

  She grimaced. “How did she react?”

  Her question prompted the scene to awaken in my mind as though it were my present reality. I vividly remembered how Cara had frozen in her chair when Deborah had called, and even clearer did I remember how consciously she had avoided meeting my eyes. Her reaction had inspired me to hope that, despite her pretence, she would actually care if I gave my attention to other women. I had been both desperate and eager to find evidence to support it, so I had told her to collect Francesca. It had occurred to me to collect her myself, but upon recalling my encounter with him, I hadn’t been able to resist the opportunity to retaliate and give Cara a taste of her own medicine. Since I’d been forced to interact with and acknowledge his existence, I had wanted her to experience what it was like, hoping it would humble her, or at least enable her to empathise with at least a portion of my misery.

  It was like a vengeful demon had reigned my brain when I’d told her to bring her computer with her. The insinuation had been rather obvious, and I had seen from her reaction that my deceit had fooled her.

  To substantiate my deception, I had intentionally prolonged Francesca’s visit. While it was cruel of me, I had at first listened to her pleas while giving a false impression that she could, perhaps, sway my mind, but I had done it solely to drag out the time. Patience and interest had emitted from my demeanour while she had tried to explain why we were compatible and that she would work harder to ensure my satisfaction with her.

  When she had reached that point, my conscience had finally suffered, so I had decided to put her out of her misery because I knew better than most how much it could hurt. I’d broken her heart and told her never to contact me again, and she had wept and wept in the wake of it. The sick demon in me had appreciated that, because it had further prolonged our interaction while we waited for her tears to run dry.

  It would be a lie if I said I didn’t wish Francesca all the best, and that I had intended to use her solely for my personal gain, but I simply hadn’t seen the harm in taking some advantage of the situation.

  It was absolutely immoral, but then, for Cara, there were few things I wouldn’t sacrifice. I’d already cast aside my honour and my pride. All that remained was my virtue, and at that moment, I’d decided to throw that to the wind as well.

  Francesca had been about to leave when I had reached for her ponytail. ‘You look so lovely when you let your hair down,’ I had said as I’d freed her hair of its confinement. While I’d meant it, it was also a deliberate action to give Cara the wrong impression. What I hadn’t seen coming was Francesca’s response. She’d launched herself onto me, lips locking on mine as though she thought it could somehow change my mind. The shock had paralysed me at first, before pity had driven me to kiss her back for a moment.

  Eventually, guilt had demanded that I should pull away. I had kissed the wrong woman, and the thought of the right one being just outside had made me feel instantly nauseous. To calm my upset stomach, I’d opened a window for some fresh air, but as soon as I’d turned back, Francesca had gone.

  At first, I’d been angry that I had pulled away. I’d been angry that I had felt nauseous about kissing someone else, and I’d been angry that I couldn’t reciprocate her affections. She was a sweet girl, and I was confident she would have gone far to ensure my happiness. That sort of dedication was what I hoped to discover in Cara. Nevertheless, the reason for my anger was simple: Cara didn’t deserve my loyalty, and yet no matter how hard I tried, my body refused to agree and would not cooperate with my notion. It would accept Cara, and only her.

  “How did she react?” I echoed as I returned to the present. “She asked whether she would need to clean my desk.”

  A titter poured out of Violet. “Wow. That’s brilliant. I love her already, and I don’t even know her. What did you say?”

  I’d known even before Cara started that Violet would come to adore her. Had she been mine, I would have appreciated it, but for now, it served only as a sore reminder of how intriguing the target of my affections was. “I told her it wasn’t necessary.”

  Violet necked the remains of her drink before she turned towards me. “Given her question, I think it’s safe to say she assumed you had sex.”

  All I offered was a nod.

  “Did you correct her impression?”

  Behind her, I saw Andy exit the men’s room, and I was grateful when I saw him approach. After meeting his eyes, I returned my attention to Violet.

  “Not plainly.”

  She gave me a look that made it obvious she thought I was making a mistake. “You ought to.”

  I disagreed. If not love, I hoped my deceit would awaken at least a sentiment in her that I could work on. “If she jumps to any conclusions, that’s her mistake, and I’ll be happy to correct it when the time is right.”

  Because I found it patronising, I didn’t appreciate the way Violet reached for my hand. “Will, this stunt might cost you.”

  I removed my hand from her hold. “I disagree,” I asserted. “You don’t know her like I do. She’s too stubborn for her own good. Reverse psychology really seems to be doing the trick. If she learns prematurely that I intend to wait for her, she’ll probably leave me on a bed of nails for an eternity while I wait for her to make up her mind. This way, I’m forcing her to act. We’ll just have to wait and see.”

  She tutted, and I hated the condescending sound. “After hearing this, I’m not surprised she declined to show up here today. She’s probably upset with you.”

  “Everyone’s always upset with Will,” Andy interrupted when he reached us. “Though, in this particular instance, who is?”

  “Cara,” Violet said, because she knew I wouldn’t mind. After all, Andy already knew everything.

  “Ah, Cara,” he echoed with a nod. “The headfuck.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” I muttered. “I was just telling Violet about
the incident with Francesca on Wednesday.”

  “Were you?” he asked and turned his attention to our mutual friend. “What do you make of it? I thought it was brilliant. True Will-style.”

  “I think he’s insane.”

  “All is fair in love and war,” Andy joked.

  “As an able lawyer, you know that’s not true,” Violet contested. “It might not work out.”

  I said, “Let’s just wait and see. She’s been quite reserved ever since it happened, and I’m hoping it’s because she’s miserable.” Like me.

  “You can lead her to the water, Will,” Violet said, “but you can’t make her drink.”

  “Nor do I mean to.” I frowned. “I’d never force her to be with me, and it’s not like I could, either. She’s not one to get pushed around. My intention is simply to scare her a bit – make her doubt my interest. If that doesn’t work, I’ll think of something else. One way or another, I’ll let her know the truth when the time calls for it, but until then, I see no harm in letting her mind run wild with ideas. All I’m trying to do is find out whether or not she’s got feelings for me. I’m aware I can’t force her to feel anything. But, if she harbours some portion of interest in me, I’m hoping this incident might serve as a catalyst.”

  “Have you told Jason about this?” Violet queried then.

  I shook my head. “I haven’t told him anything at all. Seeing as they’re best friends, I’m worried it could jeopardise things.”

  “Do you think he’ll be cross?” she continued to question, and her sincere concern charmed me.

  “Not with me. Perhaps with her, but I’m absolutely certain he’ll side with me when he eventually learns the truth. He’ll understand where I’m coming from without a doubt. In the end, she’s the one who begged me to keep it secret from him.”