Stella:

by K A Sands

  “He’s getting married again, mama. I can’t have him anymore.” I nodded an affirmation to myself, resolute. “But why should he get that? Why should he be happy, be able to love, while you keep me captive in your memory?”

  I stood up, the anger I felt at crying morphing into something else. Regret perhaps. I hadn’t gone there to break down, hadn’t come to absolve my sins or spill my secrets. This wasn’t me. I couldn’t come back here. Not anymore. It was time to let go.

  Time to let them all go, whispered the wind.

  Walking back to my car, regaining my composure with every step I took away from my mother’s grave, I knew exactly who was leaning against the bonnet of my car before I reached the slimy bastard. I didn’t ignore him like I should have, I never cowed away from confrontation and that’s what this most definitely was.

  “Stella,” he said simply, pulling his shades from his eyes and hooking them into the top of his t shirt. “Nice to see you again.”

  “Tony.” My smile was forced, saccharine and all for him. I kicked at the gravel below my feet in mock disinterest. “You going to move, or do I need to run you over? Because believe me, seeing you bleed out on the road is no hardship to me.”

  “Oh, I bet it’s not, darling.”

  “Fuck off with the darling shit. This isn’t round two. What do you want?”

  Pushing from the car with ease, he took a step closer as I took a step back. The thought of him getting any nearer made me sick to my stomach.

  “You don’t wanna finish what we started?” Clutching a hand across his chest, he openly mocked me. “You wound me. That’s too bad, Stella. I had fun, baby.”

  It was one endearment too far. Lightning quick my foot came out and the point of my shoe dug into his shin as I kicked. He cried out, hopping on one leg, his hands rubbing up and down.

  “Fucking bitch!” he growled.

  If I’d been quicker, I’d have gone for his balls, but the shin was good enough for now. “Don’t you forget it, cocksucker.”

  I made the mistake of turning my back on him, and before I knew it, I was slammed over the bonnet of my car where he’d been leaning earlier, my wrists pinned above my head in his big hands. With his face a mere inch from mine as he pushed his weight over me, he looked at me with something akin to disgust. And then I felt it. His erection. Solid, and right at the apex of my thighs. I flashed my eyes to his and the fucker grinned.

  Gathering my wrists into one hand, he wrapped the strong fingers of his other around my throat and applied pressure. “I should snap your scrawny fucking neck right now. Be the least you deserved.”

  Kicking my feet apart, he settled between my legs. Tony was a big, muscled guy, there was no use trying to struggle. He had a point to make so I’d let him make it, then he could fuck off. I could deal with my libido later on my own.

  “Or,” he ground his hips against me, “I could slip that skirt of yours up and give you another good fucking.”

  “You’re a disgusting pig,” I spat out.

  “Oh, come now. Don’t tell me you aren’t fucking soaked right now, Stella. I can see right through your lies, baby.”

  Jesus. I was. I really was. And so fucking tempted. But he was just another enemy and nothing good could come of it. “What are you doing here?”

  “Keeping an eye on my pay packet.” At least he hadn’t sugar coated it. “You liked my brother, sweetheart?” I thought back to DI Stenhouse and remembered I positively did not like his brother one little bit. “He liked you. Fucks like a stallion, too, you know. We share things, we’re close like that.” His mouth moved to my ear and a subtle shiver made my legs tremble. “Imagine that, huh? The two of us nailing that hungry snatch of yours like the cheap slut you are.”

  I snapped, my anger bursting from me. “Get the fuck off!” I screamed it again and again into his ear before he moved his head away and I struggled to free my hands.

  He was too strong for me, his weight too much to make any impact. As his hand tightened around my throat painfully, I dragged in precious air, praying I wouldn’t pass out. My fight left as quick as the black encroaching around the sides of my vision.

  “I’ve been watching you for years, Stella. Years.” His smile was unpleasant as he let me in on his wisdom. “I always wondered what you had between those legs of yours, watching all those men begging for more.” He stopped the pressure around my neck which allowed me a shallow gulp of breath. “All except your husband. Can’t say I blame him, he knew what you were. Now I’ve had a taste, I’m in no hurry to go back. You feel me?” His erection said otherwise as he rubbed against me. “I like seeing fear, like the smell of it, sweetheart. And you, my love, reek of it right now.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?” I boldly dared.

  I had no clue why I was goading him, the last thing I needed was him taking what he wanted from me on the hood of my car in the cemetery where my mother was buried.

  “So easy…” he mumbled, easing his weight from me and standing upright. “I’m your shadow, baby. If I see you stepping out of line, trust me when I say I’m coming at you hard. You’ll soon realise I’m your worst nightmare, no matter how good my dick felt all up inside you. You’d do well to remember that, darling.”

  Lucca had eyes on me, I’d been right. I’d always suspected he had. It didn’t matter anymore, I just had to be cautious, plan a little more. How smart could this man be? I’d outwitted far more clever men and walked away. He’d got one up on me once, it wasn’t happening twice.

  “Welcome to my shit list, Tony,” I sneered.

  He blew me a kiss, a ridiculous gesture I tried hard not to laugh at. “Touché, sweetheart, touché. I’ll be seeing you, love.”

  My hands shook the whole way back to Brighton. I wasn’t risking going back to Fiona’s although it was more than likely he knew where I’d been before I’d visited my mother. Fiona could never be involved in my life like that. I made a hasty exit, drove back South, only stopping to run cold water over my face and top up on coffee. By the time I collapsed into bed, I was exhausted.

  It was a new day, and time to get this show on the road. I had two weeks. Two weeks until my beloved ex tied the knot with his whore of a girlfriend. Two weeks to cause mayhem. Fourteen days to put a plan in place then get the fuck out of dodge. I had to get it right, there was no more time nor room for mistakes.

  Ducks in a row, Stella. Ducks in a row.

  Laura

  All this constant looking over my shoulder had me on edge, it was exhausting. Almost ten years of doing the same and though the circumstances were entirely different, I was so sick of it. I wanted Stella to make her move, so I could get it over and done with.

  “Is Taylor meeting you there?”

  “Yes.” I snapped. Lucca had asked me a million times, or so it seemed. See - exhausting.

  “Laura…” he admonished, and I instantly felt like a bitch. He was trying his best, none of this was his fault.

  “I’m sorry. We’re getting married in two days. I just feel a bit out of sorts is all.”

  Stopping at a traffic light, it gave him time to focus his attention on me. “Not cold feet, I hope?”

  I’d put doubt in his head. “No,” I sighed, “not like that.”

  “Has it been too quick?”

  After Stella had finally signed the divorce papers; amicably would you believe, not a week later, Lucca had got down on his knee in the kitchen where we were all eating breakfast and made me cry. He proposed, said he wanted it sooner rather than later. But no, it hadn’t been too quick, not at all. I was simply worried it was all going to go pear shaped, what with a deranged lunatic sitting back and biding her time. Because that was exactly what she was doing, I knew it as plain as the nose on my face. She’d been quiet, and from what Tony had said, she was being a normal woman. Shopping, buying beauty products, lunch with friends. How she had any friends was beyond me.

  “No,” I answered honestly.

  But everything was
up in the air. Sophie was due her baby soon and both her and Ayden were struggling to hold the other up, though he seemed to be faring better then she was. It was all a mess.

  “It will be fine,” Lucca soothed. I was so ready to be his wife, I didn’t want him thinking otherwise.

  Five minutes later, Lucca pulled the Cayenne to a stop outside the bridal boutique for my last dress fitting. It had been a rush job but the dress I’d chosen hadn’t needed many alterations. The seamstress had done an amazing job, one last fitting and the dress was coming home with me.

  Once inside the quaint shop, I relaxed. Two women fussed around me as Lucca hovered by the door.

  “I can’t try it on with you here, baby.”

  “Just gonna wait until Taylor arrives.”

  My phone beeped from my bag and I knew it was my sister. She was always late. Always. Pulling out my phone, I groaned when I read her message.

  Taylor: I have a flat.

  Me: Where r u? Lucca can come.

  “She’s got a flat.” I waved my phone in his direction. “Can you rescue her, please? I have a million and one things to do, I don’t need this today.” I let out a long breath and glanced at the new message from Taylor.

  Taylor: 3 streets down. Kemp Street.

  “All right. Don’t leave, I’ll be right back.” He took a note of the street name and hurried back out the door, the two women watching him go.

  “Right,” one clapped, “let’s get you into that beautiful dress. I swear it was made for you.”

  It took ten minutes of pulling and shoving and buttoning before I saw the full effect of the fitted gown I was wearing. The breath-taking beauty caught me short. With the sweetheart neckline underneath the intricate French Chantilly lace, the dress wasn’t too gaudy, the trimmings from the delicately patterned lace did a good job disguising the ugly scar around my neck, you could almost be forgiven for thinking my skin wasn’t disfigured at all. The full skirt added length to my body, the cream silk satin Gazar falling past my ankles.

  I loved it, seeing it finished and on brought tears to my eyes. The assistants left the vast dressing room, giving me the moment, thankful not to have the audience when the first tear dripped down my cheek.

  I wanted my mother.

  Sitting down on the chaise longue at the back of the room, I took a deep breath. There shouldn’t have been any tears no matter how sad thinking of my mum made me. She’d be happy, I was going to be too.

  Gathering myself, I stood and admired the dress again, getting lost in the beauty of the fabric and the way it hung right and moulded to the places it should on my frame.

  “Well, don’t you scrub up lovely?”

  Instantly recognising the voice I hadn’t heard in so long, like nails down a chalkboard, I came face to face with the person responsible for setting me on edge.

  “You shouldn’t be here,” I stammered, my heart picking up pace in my chest.

  “No, you’re quite right, Laura. I shouldn’t be.” She flicked her hand upward, extending her finger and tracing along the edge of the lace around my neck, deceptively gently. “But neither should you, right?”

  When her finger touched my bare skin, I lost all composure and struck out, the slap ringing loud around the closed in room. She was never to touch me again.

  Flinching, Stella growled, grabbing for my wrist and hauling me into her. I wasn’t quick enough to pull away and we stood in this weird stand off where we both stared at the other. Squeezing her hand, she yanked hard against me again and before I knew what was happening, brown liquid had spilled down the front of my dress. I stumbled backward, my hands frantically swiping at the splashes across the fabric.

  “No, no, no…” I didn’t pay attention, big fat tears spilled down my face, my dress ruined. “No!” I sobbed harshly.

  Stella bumped me into the corner of the dressing room, so I had nowhere to go. “Oh, look at that. So clumsy.”

  “You fucking bitch!” Snapping, my claws came out and I scraped my nails down the side of her smug looking face, deep welts spotted with eruptions of red bubbled under my finger nails. “You bitch!”

  Taking a step back, she brushed down the front of her own clothes. “I told you once already. He’s not yours, Laura. Not now, not ever.”

  “Fuck. You.”

  “Such crass language, but it’s no less than I expect from you. Good luck on your wedding by the way. You mind if I bring a plus one? My friend, Tony. He’d enjoy it. Oh, wait. Maybe Lucca doesn’t want his employee there?” she sighed dramatically.

  The woman was crazy, absolutely nuts. The shock of the damage to my dress was wearing off and my senses were coming back to me. I couldn’t stand there and let her spit out her poison to me. She’d think she could do it over and over. What did you do with bullies? You stood up to them, beat them at their own, so that’s exactly what I did.

  Standing up taller, I sneered viciously at her. “Listen here, you crazy bitch. Enough is enough. Lucca is done with you, we’re all done with you. It’s time you walked away with the little piece of dignity you have left. There’s nothing here for you.”

  “Clearly, you don’t know me at all.” Her laugh was cruel and entirely shiver worthy.

  “What happened to your mother was not Lucca’s fault. Nor Ayden’s for that matter. You think she’d feel proud of the things you’ve done to your own family?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  Did it really matter? What the hell was this woman on? She needed some serious help and I felt sorry for her standing there, feigning composure while my words fell on deaf ears. Stella did not care. Not about Lucca, not about Ayden, not about anyone.

  “Leave us the fuck alone.”

  “I can’t do that, Laura. He’s not for you.”

  “Well, I’m fucking telling you this now, if you don’t get the hell away from us it’s going to be to your detriment.”

  “Is that a threat, little whore?”

  The next words from my mouth came out with total conviction. “Absolutely.” I nodded at her, believing myself. “I have the means to put you down, don’t even need to get my hands dirty.” I stepped closer to her, hoping I looked at least a little intimidating, even though she had a few inches on me. “Don’t doubt I will if I need to.”

  “Congratulations,” she sang, airily opening the dressing room door to leave, “and good luck. You’re going to need it.”

  Glancing down at my ruined dress, I burst out crying the minute she disappeared. Sinking to the floor, the brown and cream fabric pooled around my legs, the stained material unsalvageable. The tears came harder and I dropped my head into my hands.

  I had somewhere to go, but nothing to wear. I was a ruined princess, I’d been spoiled.

  Stella had well and truly won that round by a long mile.

  Stella

  Satisfied I’d done enough damage for the time being, I didn’t look back at the sobbing figure before closing the door. If she was upset now, Lord help her when she saw what was in store next. I was going to ruin them all.

  Instant awareness had my hackles up. I’d taken too long in the dressing room; my way was now blocked by an angry looking ex-husband who I swore wanted to throttle me. He was on the other side of the boutique door, hand to the glass. A second later, he pulled the door open so hard it rattled the hinges.

  “What the fuck?” The menace in his tone was unmistakable. My, my, Lucca had finally grown a backbone.

  “Well, hello there, dear husband.”

  Laura’s sister was a foot behind him and glaring daggers at me, much like he was. Placing my glasses on, I gave them both a radiant smile. “I was just leaving. Lovely bride you have there, Lucca.”

  He didn’t let me take another step toward the door, blocking my way out, the little brunette moving to stand at his side. We’d never met before, but I could see she had far more spit and fire about her than her sister.

  “Taylor, I presume.” I extended my hand, knowing she wouldn’t reach f
or it, but it was the polite thing to do.

  “What are you doing here?” she spat out, derision tainting her pretty face. She was a real beauty, not that I expected anything less from Ryder.

  “Congratulating the happy bride,” I chuckled. “Her dress is just divine!” Oh, it gave me such glee to see Lucca’s face blanche the way it did, to watch the colour drain. “But I think she might need some assistance.”

  I pushed then, making it clear I was leaving. Lucca did move, paid me no more attention as he hot footed it toward the back of the boutique where he’d undoubtedly find a snivelling faced fiancé. No such luck with the sister though. She stood rooted to the spot, ready for a fight.

  “What did you do?” She eyed the coffee cup I still held and had forgotten about, her eyes travelling over the splotches on my blouse, finally resting on the stinging welts down the left side of my face. “What did you do?” she asked again with more grit to her words than before.

  “Just a little help with that gorgeous dress. It needed…something. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”

  Not giving her time to think, I barged past her and out the door in an instant, making a hasty retreat toward my car. An altercation on the street was the last thing I wanted. I walked as quick as I could, my heart rate picking up with each step, more from satisfaction than apprehension about either Taylor or Lucca following me.

  Rounding the corner of the alleyway where my car was, I staggered to a stop. The prick was leaning against my driver door this time, thumbing something into his phone that he was intently focused on. He looked up sharply and speared me with such a contemptuous look I almost, almost, shrivelled where I stood. Yeah, well. Fuck you too. I was getting so sick of playing games with this fool.

  Walking steadily, I approached my car, stopping a few feet away form him. He wasn’t pinning me down to anything this time around.

  “Nice move, Stella.”

  A coy smile crept across my face. I’d given him the slip and I bet he hadn’t liked that. He hadn’t hidden the fact he’d been following me around for a while now, since the day my lovely ex’s best friend, Ryder, had been apprehended and thrown in jail for a couple of hours. Drugs were such a nasty business. He’d been easy enough to trick, but I’d need to be more inventive in the future. I was getting no second chances with him.