“Dammit, Abby, look at me.” Taylor’s voice is hoarse, and I force myself to meet his eyes. “I could kill those fuckers. You listen to me, Abigail James. That guy at school was an immature dick, and the one at uni was a… a rapist, for fuck’s sake! You cannot judge yourself through their eyes.”
My eyes well up at Taylor’s words. His hands gently stroke my face and hair. “You are a beautiful person, inside and out, Abby. You define your own worth. Don’t ever let anyone try to do that for you.”
“I’ll try,” I whisper before placing a gentle kiss on Taylor’s lips. Gathering me in to his chest so that my head fits snugly under his chin, Taylor strokes my back until I fall into a deep sleep.
.........................
The rumbling of my stomach wakes me, and I find myself alone in the bed. I nip to the bathroom to clean myself up and find my robe. I take note of my swollen lips and dishevelled hair in the mirror and offer up a smile. My body is achy having used muscles this weekend that I didn’t even know existed, and I feel a little sore between my legs from all the action it has seen.
I pad downstairs and spot Taylor in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables. “What time is it?” I ask quietly, as I hop onto a stool at the counter. Taylor looks up, and a smile crosses his face. “Just before one, sleepyhead.” Wow, I seem to have slept the whole morning away.
“I have a roast in the oven, so I thought we would eat and then head back up to London, if that’s okay with you?”
“Of course, whatever suits you,” I reply, feeling a little sad that our time together is coming to an end.
“Sorry, I have some work I need to do before a meeting tomorrow. I would have loved to have stayed longer.” I suddenly feel bad for having monopolised his time. “Why don’t you head up and take a bath? You have about forty-five minutes before lunch is ready. You must be a little ‘worn out’.” The last bit Taylor says with a wicked grin across his face.
I take him up on his offer and ten minutes later find myself lying back, relaxing in the large egg-shaped bath, with bubbles up to my neck. Half of me is rather hoping that Taylor will join me, but the other half is revelling in the silence and having some time to reflect. My feelings for Taylor are complicated. He fills me with a need that scares me because what if he goes away? What will I be left with? But he also makes me feel cherished, and this alone makes my body hum. I know I am teetering on the edge of the cliff, ready to fall in love, but I am really scared to take that final step.
I’m interrupted from my musings when Taylor sticks his head around the door. “I thought you had turned into a mermaid,” Taylor jokes.
“Ha ha,” I say as I flick some bubbles in his direction.
“Lunch in ten, just wanted to give you the heads-up.” Taylor comes over and gives me a teasing kiss and then backs out the door, leaving me to finish up and pull some clothes on before heading down the stairs.
I am greeted by the most tantalising aromas, and my grumbling stomach reminds me that I haven’t eaten since lunchtime the previous day. I notice that the table has been set and Taylor is just placing the dishes up on the table. I grab some plates off the side, and we both take our seats, dishing up tender pieces of lamb, crunchy roast potatoes, sticky honey-glazed carrots and crunchy beans.
“Mmm. This is delicious,” I say appreciatively, having taken a mouthful. We both dig in and eat in companionable silence, listening to the music playing softly in the background. When the plates are clear and every last bit of gravy mopped up, I put my hand over Taylor’s and offer up a shy smile. “Thank you, Taylor. This weekend has been”—I search around for the most appropriate word—“incredible.”
“You are most welcome, Abs. I have enjoyed every minute of it.” Taylor reaches across and pulls me into his lap before kissing me intensely on the lips. My arms wind round his neck, and I push my fingers through his silky hair. Breaking the kiss, Taylors leans his forehead against mine, breathing heavily. “You are going to be the death of me, baby,” says Taylor, his voice husky with desire. Placing a kiss on the tip of my nose, Taylor gently tips me off his lap onto my feet.
As we start clearing up, my favourite song by Hoobastank comes on, and I find myself singing along softly. Abruptly Taylor turns the music up, a grin spreading on his face, and I find myself dancing along as I put the dishes in the dishwasher. This moment of frivolity in what has been a rather intensely emotional weekend brings me back to myself and the fact that I am only twenty-one years old and really need to stop overthinking everything. Time flies and it is not long before we are packed up and heading back up the motorway towards London.
When at last Taylor pulls up outside my flat, the car seems to fill with electricity. He leans over and kisses me thoroughly, the pad of his thumb stroking my cheek. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you, but I have to get this stuff done.” A look of regret fills his face.
“Me too,” I say softly. “But you have an entire empire to run, so you best be off, then,” I add jokingly, trying to defuse the tension that is slowly building. Taylor chuckles and then releases me after placing a light kiss on my nose.
Taylor waits until I am inside before driving off, and I walk up the stairs with a spring in my step. I am antsy at the thought of a whole evening by myself, but I decide that I will do what I do best when I need to distract myself…bake. Remembering that Taylor mentioned in the coffee shop that lemon was his favourite flavour, I decide on a lemon drizzle cake that is complicated enough to take me the whole evening to make.
When at last I fall into bed, it is with a happy smile on my face and a feeling of peace in my heart. My mind replays Taylor’s lips on mine, the feel of his skin, his fingers running across my breasts until, at last, I fall asleep.
The Eleventh
I manage to sneak into Taylor’s office early by telling Patrice, his personal assistant, that I am dropping off some samples for him. She gives me a look but doesn’t challenge me, so I leave the cake on his desk, hoping no one peeks in the plain box.
My day passes in a blur, and I only stop when Michelle appears at my desk with a tapping foot, exclaiming loudly that it is lunchtime and she is hungry. I grin at her and gather up my purse so that we can head down to the little café we both love.
“How are you doing, chick?” she asks when we sit down with our sandwiches and coffees.
“I am surprisingly okay. The funeral was hard, particularly when I had to do my speech, but then Taylor stepped in…” I stop as Michelle’s eyebrows disappear under her fringe in surprise. “Um, yeah, he turned up at the crematorium…” I trail off.
“Mr Tall, Dark and Handsome Bossman turned up at Nonna’s funeral?” Michelle squeals, and I have to shush her and remind her we are in a public place. I take a breath and start from the beginning, filling her in on everything from Taylor stepping up to read my speech to him taking me home with him and staying the weekend. I leave out the really personal stuff, but she badgers me about whether he was any good in bed.
“Um, yeah…really good,” I stammer feeling a blush stain my cheeks. Michelle is my best friend, but I am not used to talking to her about stuff like this, my previous love life being completely non-existent.
“Whoop, whoop. I knew you were a dark horse, Abs. Hmm, you and the boss, who would have thought it?” I bristle slightly at her comment, thinking that she thinks that I am not good enough for Taylor. But when she sees my face, she retorts tartly, “Now stop those thoughts that I can see on your face, Abigail James. I simply meant that you are normally so proper that I didn’t think you would make a move for ages!”
Looking at the time, I realise we are running late, so we hurry back to the office. I haven’t even asked Michelle about her weekend, so wrapped up that we have been in my drama, and when I mention it she winks at me and promises to call me after work to fill me in.
I haven’t seen Taylor in the office, so I don’t know if he got his present yet, but I am too shy to ask anyone if they know where he is. I put my head d
own and concentrate on my reports until Eddy clears his throat and reminds me the home time is actually five o’clock. I laugh, shut down my computer, gather up my coat and head out the door.
I am halfway home when my phone suddenly buzzes. I look down and realise I don’t recognise the number, but I click anyway, my heart racing when I realise the text message is from Taylor:
Seriously tasty surprise! Thank you—a lovely treat at the end of a shitty day. I will have to make it up to you. Taylor ;-)
Ooh, a winking smiley. I am so glad he liked it, and the thought that I would be seeing him soon makes me breathe a little harder. I suddenly realise we never swapped numbers, so how did he know how to get hold of me?
I am contemplating this as I round the corner and my building comes into view. I notice a figure leaning against the front door, and as I get closer it seems more and more familiar. Taylor. He waves when he sees me, causing me to smile and speed up my progress. I can’t see his car anywhere but shrug it off. As I come up to greet him, I say hello and start shuffling through my bag to find my keys.
I babble on and on, not really taking note that Taylor has yet to say one word or touch me. At last I fish the keys out, unlock the door and stand back to let Taylor in. My subconscious is screaming at me that something seems off. I just can’t place what it could be.
Suddenly Taylor stops and whirls round, and as I stare into his eyes, it suddenly dawns on me. “You aren’t Taylor!” I exclaim loudly, backing away.
“Bravo. The others normally take a lot longer to figure it out.” I am sure the confusion I am feeling is playing across my face. My confusion shifts to fear as I take in the sinister smile that is residing on this Taylor lookalike’s face.
“Who…who are you?” I stammer out, my heart beating a desperate tattoo in my chest.
“Hmm. So he hasn’t told you about me, then?” The man’s voice is similar to Taylor’s, but the sneer I hear in his voice is poles apart from Taylor’s sublime tones.
“What are you talking about?”
“My little brother, Taylor…He hasn’t filled you in on our little arrangement, then?”
“I don’t know what the hell you are talking about.” My voice shakes as I try to understand what is going on.
“Hmm, let’s just say my baby brother knows that he has to share his toys with me, and you, my dear, are his latest.”
“Well, Taylor’s brother…” I realise I don’t even know this nutcase’s name.
“Richard.” He says smoothly, closing the gap between us so we are standing face-to-face. I flinch and try to create more room to escape his foul-smelling breath by stepping back but realise I have nowhere to go when my back hits the wall.
“Well, Richard, I don’t know what you are thinking you are doing, but I want you to leave. Now!” I am trembling, but I am not sure whether it is from fear or anger.
“I am not going anywhere, sweetheart, until I get what I came for.” The maliciousness in Richard’s voice chills me, and I know for definite it is fear coursing through my veins. I try to push him away, but he grabs my wrists tightly, forcing his body against mine. I can feel his erection against my hip, and it scares the life out of me.
“Get off me!” I scream the words, but instantly a hand claps over my mouth, and I freeze my struggles to free myself.
“Shut up, bitch!” Richard hisses into my ear. I start struggling again, panic making any rational thought fly out the window. All I can think of is getting away from him. Richard grabs me and slams my body back against the wall, knocking my breath out my lungs, before crushing his lips against mine. Instinct takes over and I bite down. Richard rears back, roaring at me, so fast I don’t see his fist flying towards my face. It feels like my cheek has exploded, and the tears course down my face.
All I can think of is why no one is coming to my rescue. Where are my neighbours? Why is no one answering my cries? I don’t know what exactly Richard wants from me, but my will to fight is starting to drain away as the pounding in my head ratchets up another notch and blood pours from my mouth. I bring my knee up in a last-ditch attempt to free myself from my captor, but Richard seems to anticipate this and aims a blow at my stomach, which leaves me reeling.
All of a sudden, there is a roar and then Richard is pulled off me. Without someone to hold me up, my knees buckle and I slide down the wall. I try to concentrate on what is happening in front of me, but my vision is blurry and the pounding in my head and my body makes me feel like I am about to vomit. The scuffling noises seem to have abated, and then there are two legs planted in front of me. I flinch, expecting another round of abuse, and bury my head in my arms, wanting to become invisible.
“Abby.” Just one word and I instantly know that it is Taylor. He crouches down and gently opens my arms and hooks a finger under my chin, lifting my face to his. I try to make out the expression on his face as he takes in my injuries, but as I am seeing three of Taylor, this is virtually impossible. I hear Taylor swearing under his breath as he lifts me in his arms. “It’s okay, Abby. I am here. Let’s get you to hospital,” he soothes. Instantly I tense. I don’t want to go somewhere I am going to be poked and prodded; I just want to get into by bed and forget this ever happened.
“No!” I croak. “Home. Please.” Taylor looks down at me, and as my vision clears slightly, I see his jaw is clenched in anger. I bury my face in his neck, and he starts walking in what I assume is the direction of the stairs. It is only when the frigid air hits me that I realise we are outside. I start to struggle, but Taylor shushes me and informs me that he is taking me home with him. Gently he places me in his car and straps me in before coming round and manoeuvring the car back out of the parking space.
At some point in the drive I pass out, and when I finally come to, I find myself lying on Taylor’s bed. A strange, but kind face suddenly appears over me, and I start. My body aches fiercely. My head feels like a fire is burning out of control. “It’s okay, Abby. This is my friend James.” I hear Taylor’s voice, and I relax as his face comes into view. “He’s a doctor. I know you didn’t want to go to hospital, but you need to be looked at by a professional.” Taylor takes my hand, and I nod my consent.
James starts gently prodding my body, making me wince. When he is finished with his examination, he talks directly to me. “Abby, there is nothing broken and you don’t seem to have a concussion, but you have taken a bad beating and you are going to be really sore for a few days. I’ll leave some painkillers with Taylor, and I want you to get some sleep. Can you do that for me?” I hear the concern in his voice and make a mental note to quiz Taylor about him later.
“Thank you, James.” My voice is hoarse, but at least I can talk.
“You rest up and let Taylor here look after you.” With that, James gathers up his bag, and I watch as Taylor walks him out, talking softly but urgently. I catch the word ‘mugging’, and I can only imagine how Taylor is justifying my injuries. But the truth is, until I can actually talk to Taylor about what happened, I don’t really know how to even justify it to myself.
I am struggling to sit up and swing my legs down off the bed when Taylor walks back into the room. Immediately he is at my side. “I need to have a shower, Taylor. I feel…I feel…” I can’t find the words to describe how violated I feel, but he seems to understand, simply picking me up and carrying me through to the bathroom. With the gentlest of hands he slowly removes my clothes until I am standing in front of him naked. Taylor rakes his eyes across my body, his expression darkening until I am certain he is going to hit something. I am not afraid of him, but something in his expression makes me uncertain of what he is thinking.
“I am going to fucking kill him” is all that Taylor says before he leads me into the shower. He quickly strips himself and adjusts the pressure of the water so that the normally punishing stream is as gentle as a rain shower. Soaping me, Taylor takes extra care when he notices me wincing at his touch. We are silent, both our minds working overtime. When Taylor finally ma
kes his way up to my face, I see tears in his eyes as he wipes away the dried blood. I reach my hand to cup his face and whisper, “This is not your fault.”
Taylor places his forehead against mine, and I see the bleak look in his eyes, a mixture of grief and guilt. “It is all my fault.” The words are harsh and I flinch slightly, but I hold firm and repeat, “This is not your fault.” Shutting off the shower, I let Taylor wrap me up in the biggest fluffy towel I have ever seen, pick me up and return me to his bed. Taylor is softly patting me dry when his phone rings, startling us both out of our intense reverie.
“Sorry, I have got to get this,” Taylor says, looking down at the number. “Stix, you okay?” I can only hear his side of the conversation, but it’s intense.
“Is Richard there?” I flinch at the sound of his name.
“Well, you need to be somewhere else tonight. He’ll be heading there. I am sure of it.” I can hear the voice at the other end, questioning him.
“He got to Abby.” The gasp at the other end is clear. “I pulled him off her before it got too far, but he has hurt her. Badly. He is going to be so pissed. Please, can you just go and stay at Lisa’s tonight so I know you are safe. Please.” I hear the pleading in Taylor’s voice, and I feel a real fear for whoever it is at the other end of the phone. When Taylor is reassured that this Stix is going to her friend’s house, I see his shoulders start to relax.
“I love you, Stix. Be safe, Okay? And any problems, call me.” Taylor cancels the call with a sigh and turns back to me with haunted eyes. “My baby sister” is all he says, with a shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t know where to start.” I have never heard this flat tone to Taylor’s voice before, and I ache to comfort him. I put a finger to his lips.
“Shh. Not tonight. Neither of us has the energy to deal with this tonight. Tomorrow is another day.”
Book One: Thirty Days, Book 1 Page 8
