Tainted Love

by Jaimie Roberts

  I step outside, a light breeze hitting my skin. Distant music and cheering can be heard from the marina behind us, their lights offering a nice, relaxing atmosphere on the deck. There, I find Chris sitting on the plush sofa, staring out to the sea ahead rather than the nightlife behind him. He doesn’t notice I’m approaching, or he does and is choosing to ignore me. However, I won’t be ignored.

  I grab his hands and pull them out, so I can slide on his lap, straddling his waist. I place both his arms around me, forcing him to cuddle. I lean forward, resting my head on his shoulder, and his body is rigid at first, but then he relaxes soon after, making me smile.

  “I’m sorry,” he utters, almost a whisper.

  “I’m sorry too.”

  His arms squeeze around my body, pressing me to him. His neck smells all musky, a familiar scent that has my hips moving involuntarily over his crotch. He hisses, pulling me away to grab my face in his hands.

  “Why do you make me do it then, Bri? Why?”

  Swallowing the truth, I let out a half lie. “Because it turns me on.”

  He closes his eyes a moment, a deep crinkle in his forehead. “Having me treat you like shit and throwing you around like that turns you on. Tomorrow you’ll no doubt have bruises all over your skin because I lost it, and how do you think that makes me feel?”

  I place my hands on his arms. “But I wanted it. Every minute of it.” And I did, my dark, fucked up thoughts making me this way with him.

  Chris pushes my hands away, grabbing my shoulders. “Yes, but I don’t. I hate it, and you know it. That shit fucks with my head for days after. I’m not the type of man to be rough with a woman, and when I am with you, it makes me feel like a monster. Don’t you understand, Bri? Fuck!”

  He attempts to push me off his lap, but I hold tightly to him, throwing my arms around him again. “I’m sorry,” I say, my eyes filling with tears. Chris has always been my gentle giant, and he’s right; I do push him until I create the monster he detests. I just can’t help myself. But knowing how much I’ve upset him cuts me deep to my core. “I’m sorry, so sorry,” I say over and over again, sniffling and snuggling my nose into the crook of his neck.

  His rigid body relaxes upon hearing my cries, and soon he’s encasing his big, strong arms around me. The relief at his acceptance has me releasing a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

  “I fucking love you, Bri, and I hate hurting you.”

  I run my hands through his hair, kissing the side of his neck. “I know, and I’m sorry for pushing you. I’ll try my hardest not to do it again.”

  His hands are in my hair next, tugging my lips to his. His hardness digs into my groin, so I thrust my hips, causing Chris to groan in my mouth.

  “I’m not fucking you out here. Someone might see us.”

  I chuckle into his mouth. Little does he know that’s already happened. I don’t plan to let that little secret out, though. Instead, I relax in his arms as he carries me inside and down towards our bedroom. My heart pounds and my pussy throbs as he undresses me and lays me down before fucking me until another orgasm rips me apart.

  When I’ve calmed and Chris has fallen asleep, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. With the euphoria of our lovemaking well and truly diminished, the usual dark thoughts are free to creep into my head again.

  I sigh, slipping out of the bed as carefully as possible and walk over to the window where the moon is shining through. While there, gazing upon the moon, I think of my brother. We would often watch the moon together, out in the park at night when we couldn’t stand being at home with our parents. When it was cold, sometimes we would manage to gather a blanket, lay it on the grass, and talk about what we would do if we could escape to the moon. “Being able to breathe would be an issue,” my brother would say, making us both laugh.

  I glance at Chris, a pang shooting through my stomach, thinking about all those memories. Oh, how I miss my brother. If he were here with me now, no doubt he would smile, ruffle his fingers through my hair like he used to, pinky-promising the world to me. I would give up all the planets in the solar system for one of those pinky promises.

  A single tear drops down my face, the pain at missing him so much tearing through me. I glance back at Chris, and he’s sleeping like an angel. It’s in these moments when Chris sleeps peacefully that my nightmares begin. My presence gives him solace, but in my waking moments, I wish… God, how I wish someone was here for me.

  The following night, Chris and I stay at a five-star resort in Puerto Banus, allowing the lads to have a free night to do what they want. All I demand of them is that our bedroom remain completely and utterly off limits. They are not to bring any girls in there. Period. Apart from that, they can do what they want. Well, within reason, of course.

  After a night in the hotel where I am treated like a queen and have one of the best views of the Mediterranean, Chris and I are on better terms. He’s happy that we’re now back on track, but my heart still aches, the torture of my thoughts threatening to drown me. Knowing that we are on the way back to England today doesn’t help ease my mind either.

  “Fancy a beer?” Chris asks, offering a bottle to me. I shake my head, and he places it on the table before taking a seat next to me on the deck. The sun is warm, my face to the sky as I take in the last rays. The lads are listening to music, drinking and prancing about the place like lads on holiday do.

  “I don’t want to go back,” Chris says, interrupting my thoughts.

  I stare out into the endless sea. We’ve only been travelling on the water for around an hour, Michael’s capable hands at the wheel. “I don’t want to go back either,” I admit, but for difference reasons than him.

  “One day, baby. One day very soon this could all be ours permanently.”

  I sigh, leaning my back against his chest, his arms surrounding me. “Not too soon, though, with your supplier dying on you and you having to wait until his brother takes over.”

  If I’m honest with myself, I’ve been partly relieved but also partly scared of this fact. Relieved that it will take longer, but also scared that it just gives my past a better opportunity to catch up to me.

  “Don’t you worry about that, babe. Things have a habit of working out. Which reminds me,” he says, pulling away for a moment before delving his hand into his short’s pocket. I swivel my position so I’m facing him more, intrigued to see what he has for me. He lifts it up, dangling a silver chain with a small key attached to it.

  “I need you to promise me you’ll wear this at all times.”

  I frown at his request. “What is it?”

  “It’s a key to a locker at Green Park Station. If something were to ever happen to me…”

  “Chris, I don’t like where this is going,” I interrupt, scared all of a sudden. Why this? Why now?

  “Shh, listen to me, Bri. This is fucking important. I’m not planning on going anywhere, believe me, but if something does happen, I want you to promise me you’ll drop everything and head to Green Park. The locker number is 316, and inside it is a fake passport, credit cards, and enough cash to keep you going for a while. Can you remember the number, Bri? 316.”

  Meekly, I nod my head, taking the chain he’s thrusting in front of me. “Why now, though? What’s changed?”

  “Nothing’s changed,” he says, taking the chain back from me to loop it around my neck. “It’s something I’ve had planned for months but I only recently, before we left, managed to sort out. From time to time, I add as much cash as I can to the stash already there. It gives me comfort knowing that you will be okay, if ever I’m not. This is only a precaution, not because I’m planning to leave you. Wild horse wouldn’t be able to keep me away, so don’t worry. It just makes me happy to know you’d be taken care of. So can you promise me you’ll wear it at all times?”

  A sad smile encases my lips as I clutch onto the key hanging from my neck. “I promise.”

  Chris lets out a sigh, grabbing me to pull me to him again. �
�Then all is good in my world.”

  “Boss!” Kane shouts from the top of the ladder. “We’ve got a problem.”

  We’re both up on our feet, my heart skipping a beat, wondering what the problem could be. We walk to the edge of the boat, glancing at what Kane is currently staring at, when I spot a Guardia Civil boat heading towards us.

  “Shit!” Chris shouts, threading his hands through his hair.

  “Why? What’s the problem? We’re not doing anything wrong. We’re on holiday.”

  Chris plants me with a look that sends ice cold water over my skin. I grit my teeth, deciding not to ask another question that could land me in trouble. Now is definitely not the time for an interrogation.

  The Guardia Civil boat lines itself up with ours, and then a guy who looks to be in his forties comes onto the boat, his eyes scanning everyone.

  “Who’s the owner of this boat?” he asks in a Spanish accent.

  “It’s a close friend of ours whose brother recently died,” Chris answers. “He asked if we could bring it back to the UK. We’ve got all the papers to prove it.”

  “Show me,” the guard says, his hand out ready. “And I need to see your passports too.”

  Chris disappears inside the boat, the guard scanning the rest of us all the while, including two of his mates with guns clasped beside them. Even though I know I’ve done nothing wrong, my heart is in my throat. These guys are fucking intimidating.

  Chris reappears with a small bag in hand. He places it down on the table and unzips it. Inside there is no sign of any paperwork or passports, just a wad of cash.

  Fuck!

  Nervously, I swallow hard, my anxiety creeping up exponentially. If Chris bribes the wrong Guardia Civil, we’re all in deep fucking shit.

  What has he done?!

  The guard glances down at the cash then up at all of us, his eyes scanning us one by one before they land back on Chris. “You can close that back up now.”

  I’m all but peeing myself. The last thing I want is to end up in some foreign jail where nobody speaks English.

  To my utter surprise and relief, the guard picks the bag up and slings it over his shoulder. “You have a safe trip back home.”

  I don’t truly process that he’s leaving until he’s strolling back onto his boat, and they’re pulling up the fenders and throttling away. The moment I hear that sound, my shoulders sag, my relief palpable. Once out of the guards’ earshot, the guys all gather.

  “Fuck me, I almost shit myself,” Larry shouts first, making everyone laugh.

  “I was warned this might happen,” Chris answers. “They won’t bother us again. If need be, we’ll do the same in France.”

  My eyes land on Chris, my anger slowly building now that the shock and anxiety are waning. “What the fuck was that about?” I ask, causing all eyes to land on me. Silence fills the air, then Kane and Michael glance away, guilt written across their faces. “What are you not telling me?” I ask again to anyone who will answer. No one will answer, though. I know no one but Chris will, but I still want to make a show, nonetheless.

  “We needed a quick hit,” Chris begins.

  “I don’t fucking believe this!” I shout, throwing my hands in the air. “This was never about a holiday, was it? You were using it as a guise to do business.” My eyes scan the boat, wondering where the stash could be. “Where is it?”

  “It’s probably best you don’t know.”

  Something dawns on me. “Last night when we stayed at the hotel, that’s when the drop took place, right? Where did you get the stash from? Oh, no, don’t tell me. Probably Morocco?”

  Chris’s guilty faces says it all. “Fan-fucking-tastic!” I shout, my legs moving towards the living room.

  “Baby, please hear me out…”

  I turn forcefully towards him, my nostrils flaring. “You brought me here on the pretence of a holiday when all this was really about was buying drugs. What if that guard hadn’t been corrupt? What would you have done? You promised me you wouldn’t involve me in your shit, Chris. You promised! I could have been fucking arrested!” I try to walk away, but Chris spins me back round.

  “I would never have let that happen. If he wouldn’t have taken the money, the lads knew what to do.”

  My eyes widen. “You were going to shoot them, weren’t you? I can’t fucking believe this. They had guns themselves, didn’t you notice?!”

  “Yes, but we were prepared for that; we’re always prepared in case the worst comes to the worst. I would never let anything happen to you. It’s just that we found out we could make well over a million on this collection. Can you imagine how much of a difference that’ll make towards our dream?”

  Disgusted, I shake my head, puffing out a frustrated breath. The words “Your dream!” play on my lips, but I don’t dare let them out.

  “I don’t care that you had provisions in place, or money to bride officers of the law, or whatever the fuck you want to call it. What I care about is that you involved me in a drug run.”

  A flash of guilt flits through his eyes, but he stands his ground. “You really think I didn’t think about all that? Involving you was the last thing I wanted to do, but there was no way in hell I would have left you on your own at home. I had to think of something. What else was I supposed to do? Come on, Bri, you can’t get angry.” He steps closer, trying to pull my arms to him, but I yank them away.

  “No!” I shout back, shocking him so much he takes a step back, his mouth agape. Tears fill my eyes at his betrayal. He knows full well he fucked up. No amount of excuses are going to cut it.

  “Don’t you dare tell me how to feel. You could have thought of a better way of handling this. Hell, you could have sent the guys, and you and I could’ve gone someplace else for a holiday, but no. You had to be here, didn’t you? You had to be the one who took all the glory. To be the one who made sure it all went the way you wanted. I don’t care that it makes our dream that much closer,” I say through gritted teeth. “It could have been dealt with better.”

  “I’m sorry, baby. Please. I didn’t think you’d get so angry.”

  I stare at him, my eyes widening and my heart breaking. “If you truly think that then you don’t really know me at all, do you?” I whisper, turning and walking down the steps to our room, but not before noticing the devastation written across his face.

  In the confines of our bedroom, I take to the bed, pulling the pillow to my chest, hugging it flush to my body. I’m angry, but more than that, I’m upset. Chris promised me. He’s been saying since day one that he would do everything within his power to protect me from his way of life. Now I’m so far involved, I could land in prison if caught. I have no idea where all the drugs are, and even though I asked, I don’t really want to know.

  I scoff at the fact that he didn’t think I’d get so angry. If he honestly thought that, then why didn’t he tell me to be begin with?

  Questions like this and others fill my head, making me even angrier. Now I have to spend the last few days of my holiday knowing that sleeping beside me each night is enough drugs to probably send me away for the rest of my life.

  Deep fucking joy.

  Five days later, we sail into St Katherine’s Dock in London, my heart heavy, eyes weary from lack of sleep. Luckily, the rest of the journey was uneventful, but that didn’t stop my nerves from fraying the whole time, constantly on the lookout for any police presence out at sea.

  Chris and I have hardly spoken since, and it’s taking its toll on both of us. He knows I need space to cool down, but his patience will only last so long before he’ll snap and get angry, demanding my forgiveness. Yeah, like that will make me forgive him. The irony has my eyes rolling.

  It’s now Monday morning, and I’m getting ready for work. In one sense, I’m looking forward to getting back to my routine, and if I admit it, to seeing Charlie again. I didn’t realise how much I missed him until I was showering this morning.

  “Good morning,” Charlie announces
the moment I walk into the shop, a bright smile and steaming cup of tea on the counter.

  I approach with my hefty bag, placing it on the counter in front of us. “Good morning,” I smile back, his cheerful demeanour immediately infectious.

  His eyes lower down to the bag. “Ah, we need restocking again, I see,” he mutters, pointing to the bag.

  “Nah-ah, you have no right saying that because the last time you did, I ended up across the road with my kit, practically performing surgery.”

  “You mean saving someone’s life,” he quips back.

  “Whatever you want to call it,” I reply, waving my hand dismissively. “If I hadn’t had these things here, then Lord knows what would have happened. And for all we know, the man still died. I might have done something wrong and killed him.” That thought makes my eyes bug out of my head.

  “You didn’t.”

  My eyes snap up to him. “Didn’t what?”

  “Kill him,” he replies, stroking a hand over his sexy five o’clock shadow. My my. Just that one simple act has me inadvertently licking my lips. Of course, he had to look there when I did, didn’t he? I really wish I wasn’t so obvious around him.

  Composing myself, I clear my throat. “How would you know?”

  He gets up from my barstool, clearing a path for me to sit, but for now, I stay where I am.

  “I figured you might worry that you didn’t do it right and done more harm, than good, so I visited him in hospital. I overheard the doctor saying he’d make a full recovery.”

  I drop my shoulders in relief. “That really is good news.”

  “I thought you might like to hear that. Anyway, how was your holiday?”

  My shoulders tense again, and Charlie notices, frowning. “It was good, thanks. A nice break.” Well, it was nice up until I found out we were on a drug run!