“Oh, look, there’s that word again.”
Anger rising, I grit my teeth. “Why are you all of a sudden interested in my well-being? I didn’t get so much as a sentence out of you for a full six months, and then bam! You’re non-stop asking questions, non-stop poking your nose into my business. Why? Why now?!”
A vein twitches in the side of his neck, his mouth forming a hard line like he’s trying to hold in his anger. “Someone fucking has to! Your boyfriend is completely oblivious to all the shit happening around you because he’s too busy thinking about himself and what he wants.”
“That’s not true!” I bark back, but my voice quivers because deep down, I know there’s an element of truth in there somewhere.
“Why do you let people push you around like that? Why do you let him push you around? He acts like you’re his possession. It’s unhealthy, Bri.”
His question and statement completely stun me. Where has this come from all of a sudden?
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I snap.
His face is like thunder when he replies, “It is when he’s demanding my employee, who still has a number of hours to work by the way, go home.” He leans forward, his warm, minty breath fanning my face. “Whilst you’re here in your place of work. You. Belong. To. Me.”
He fails to see the irony in his statement, but I’m too fucking turned on at this instance to point that little nugget out. My eyes widen, my heart accelerates, and heat like no other burns deep inside the pit of my stomach. My mouth parts, my breath hitting his, and before I even register what’s happening, my lips are on his, my arms snaking up around his back until they land on his head, pushing him to deepen our kiss. Charlie holds my body flush to his, making a deep moan vibrate through my chest. Our tongues dance, our kiss deep, hot, and heavy, igniting a passion I’ve never before felt in my life.
He spins us around, my back hitting the wall, and he breaks our kiss to spray light kisses on the side of my neck. “Fuck!” I cry, unable to hold in my desire for him. My pussy is about to combust.
I palm my hand on his hard length, gripping him tightly, heat igniting in me at the size of him. He growls in my ear, sending lust zinging through my whole body.
I’m so engrossed in our make-out session that until Charlie pushes me away, I fail to hear the sound of Chris’s bike, the revving along the road getting closer, followed by the distinct beep of his horn.
We both stare at one another, our breathing hot and heavy, shock registering on my face but disgust on Charlie’s.
“You better get going. Loverboy is calling you.”
His words, obviously intending to sting, leave a bittersweet taste in my mouth after that fiery session we just shared. Guilt should shroud me now that Chris is here to fetch me, but all I can feel are Charlie’s lips on mine, the taste of his minty breath, and the spots of his gentle kisses which now burn on my neck, permanently etching their memory deep into my skin.
A couple more days go by, and since that kiss, I have been hitting replay over and over again in my head until I think it might explode. Chris has been a sulking mess, stomping around the house like a pubescent child not getting his own way. His way being that the Bilko’s completely disappear off the face of the earth.
For two days, he’s managed to keep me under lock and key. On the third day, I rant and rave at him, telling him that I’ve already had too much time off work and that I’ll get fired if I carry on. Truth be told, I just want to be with Charlie again—as fucked up as that sounds.
Since that kiss, my mood has changed. I think Chris notices something’s up, but I assume he puts it down to the fact that my attacker’s family are poking their noses. Either way, it certainly hasn’t helped diffuse the simmering atmosphere in our apartment.
“We have to figure out a plan to stop them harassing Bri,” Chris says to Michael as I busy myself getting ready for work. They’re both sitting at the dining table, scotch in hand at eight-thirty in the morning. No doubt I’ll have to deal with the fallout of that shit once I’m back home.
Michael is about to speak, but I butt in. “I don’t think we can do anything. If we start causing a scene, they’ll know we had something to do with his disappearance.”
Michael nods his agreement. “She’s right. Apart from killing the whole family, what else can we do?”
“I would start by leaving a trail,” I continue, offering my input. “Something that makes them think Brandon’s miles away from here. Find a place where the family can go to investigate, leaving us more time to figure something else out until they get back.”
Chris rubs the stubble on his chin, and then Michael raises his glass to me. “That’s a fucking mint idea. Isn’t it, Chris?” He glances at him for guidance, and at first, he doesn’t say a word, just stews.
“It could work,” he finally replies, looking at both of us.
“Do you still have his phone? You could maybe charge it and send it somewhere, switch it on and send a text so that it pings the location.”
Chris’s head snaps to Michael, but he’s frowning, deep in thought. “I’m not sure if we still have it,” Michael finally replies. “It’s normally Larry who deals with that shit.”
Chris immediately takes his phone out, I assume to call Larry.
“I guess I’ll be off to work. Don’t go too crazy with the booze,” I warn Michael, more for Chris’s sake than his.
Michael smiles, getting up from his seat as Chris speaks to Larry on the phone. “I’ll look after him.”
“That’s what I’m worried about,” I jibe, making him laugh.
“Larry’s going to take a look and get back to me.” Chris places his phone down on the table then glances my way, noting my bag in hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”
My body rigid, I stare him down. “To work. And that’s the final say on the matter.”
“You can’t go to work when there’s this threat hanging over our heads like this.”
My nostrils flare, anger bubbling at the pit of my stomach. “I can, and I will. Life doesn’t stop just because someone’s asking questions about a family member’s whereabouts. That would be ridiculous. Have you ever stopped to think that me not being at work the last couple of days looks highly suspicious?”
“She’s right, you know?” Michael adds.
“No one fucking asked you,” Chris snaps back.
“Hey, that’s enough. Michael is only trying to help, and all you’re doing is being downright fucking rude and obnoxious. You’re not the boss of me, Chris. I’m going to work. Final!”
The keys to my car scrape across the table as I snatch them up in my hand and storm towards the door.
“You better fucking call me, even if there’s whiff of something dodgy. You got that?”
“Yes, master,” I call back, waving my hand goodbye.
It’s only when I’m in the lift and making my way down that I release a deep breath, the tension in my shoulders finally letting go. I never realise just how wound up I am around Chris until I’m not.
Despite it all, I’m extra careful once I’m in the car park and get in the car, immediately locking the door behind me. Since Pete, I have learnt my lesson not to be too complacent when it comes to my safety.
I make the car journey in ten minutes, nerves creeping up but for an entirely different reason now. Since the kiss, I have messaged Charlie to let him know I wouldn’t be in the last two days, but all I got back so far were very brief acknowledgements.
I park the car in my usual spot, being careful to look everywhere before I unlock the car and get out. I stroll around to the front of the shop and glance down at my watch. In my haste to get away this morning, I’ve ended up at work fifteen minutes earlier than normal.
I place my key in the lock and walk through, not turning the sign to OPEN yet. I close the door behind me and walk towards my little stool, all is quiet, lights off. As it’s a little dark this morning, I switch on one light then set down
my bag, calling Charlie’s name. I don’t wait for him to appear, I simply seek him out, knowing he’s probably in his office.
As I approach his door, I peep in, and sure enough he’s sat at his desk typing away on his computer, his focus so intent on whatever he’s doing, he fails to realise I’m here.
As I get closer, I squint at the laptop, my eyes trying to scan anything that pops out. The words “warehouse” and “act soon” stand out, making me frown. What is he writing?
“Charlie?” I say again, and this time, his head shoots round, and in an instant, he slams his laptop shut.
“Fucking hell, Bri, knock before you go barging into people’s offices!”
His large frame, rigid body, and clenched fists have me stepping back. “I’m sorry,” I say, biting my lip. “I called out for you, but you didn’t answer.”
His eyes narrow like he’s trying to figure something out. “Next time shout louder.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, backing out of the office and turning to leave.
“Bri,” he whispers after me, his voice softer. I halt my journey and turn around, noting his posture is not so rigid anymore. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m a little wound up tight lately.”
My heart calming, I smile, appreciating his candidness. “Aren’t we all,” I breathe out, relieved that he doesn’t seem so mad anymore. It still doesn’t stop me from wondering what that little writing session was all about, though.
“When I get wound up, I write stories. It’s kind of my thing.”
That explains it. “Anything you’d let me read?” I ask, my voice teasing. Charlie’s laughter is low but deep, sending a zing of lust through me.
“It’s kind of my thing, so not something I share with anyone. No offence.”
I shake my head. “None taken. I can understand more than anyone how writing your deepest thoughts down on paper is something sacred for only your own eyes to see. It’s cathartic.”
Silence hangs in the air a moment as we stare into each other’s eyes.
“I need to apologise to you about the other day,” he starts, his body rigid again. He’s obviously not used to handing out apologies. “I was intrusive and rude, and I am acutely aware of my hypocrisy too. One moment I’m asking you why you’re letting men walk all over you, and then I go and do the same thing by claiming you when you’re here. It was not only completely unprofessional of me, considering I’m your boss, but it was downright unacceptable.”
He’s right to apologise for what he said, but I sure hope he’s not sorry for what transpired after. “I’m not sorry,” I reply, deciding to lay it all out on the table.
“Bri,” he whispers, turning his head away, dismissing my admission.
“I know,” I reply back, stopping him from adding anything further. “I realise we can’t be together like that.” I stop a moment, my heart aching with the knowledge of this and having to admit it out loud. I take in a breath, trying to compose myself, completely aware that Charlie’s watching me. I dip my head down, embarrassed. “I just want you to know that I’m not sorry it happened. I will never be sorry…”
Charlie closes the distance between us, his finger lifting my chin to face him. His eyes search my own, noticing my unshed tears. “Why don’t you leave him?” he asks softly, no resentment coating his voice, just genuine confusion.
Two of the unshed tears drop down my face as I shake my head. “I can’t.”
His frown at my answer is laced with pain. “Can’t or won’t?”
I’m about to tell him that it’s more complicated than he realises when the doorbell chimes, alerting us to a customer. Although the sign says we’re closed, it’s obviously been ignored by whoever’s entered.
“I… I better see who that is.” I sniffle, wiping away my tears and sucking in a breath to compose myself. Charlie simply nods, letting down his hand, the loss of his touch more than just physical.
As I walk out to the shop’s entrance, I smooth out my blonde locks and dab my eyes, making sure there’s no moisture left as I plaster on my best, winning smile.
However, once I emerge and see who this so-called customer is, my smile instantly drops, and all colour drains from my face.
“What are you doing here?” I growl, annoyed that he’s entered my workspace.
“I sent you a message last night, but you never answered me. If you don’t answer when I call, then I come looking for you. It’s as simple as that. Next time, you may want to reply when I fucking click my fingers.”
After the last few days, this is all I need. I’m wound up so tight that my voice raises an octave when I answer. “I’m not your fucking puppet, ready to pick up and play with whenever you feel like it. I have a life, and right now you’re invading my workspace. Go now, before I scream and alert my boss that you’re here.”
His teeth clench. He doesn’t like it when his plaything talks back. “Tonight at six in the same place as the other night. Be there, or my tongue will decide to become loose.” He’s about to leave, but something behind me catches his eye.
“She’s not meeting you anywhere, you sick fuck.”
Pete takes in the beast of a man that Charlie is, his demeanour slipping for a second. Then his lip curls into a snarl, baring his teeth in Charlie’s direction. “The conversation between me and my niece has fuck all to do with you. Keep your nose out!”
Charlie attempts to barge past me, but I thump my back into him, holding his arm with my hand when I do. I have to laugh inside that I’m ironically shielding my uncle from his wrath. Immediately, Pete’s eyes land on my hand on Charlie’s arm, causing him to raise an eyebrow at me.
“It has everything to do with me when I’m aware her pedo uncle is blackmailing her,” he snarls back. The anger bouncing from his chest into my back has my heart racing.
Pete glares at me but points at Charlie. “Who the fuck is this guy?” He steps forward, a sarcastic laugh escaping him. “Are you fucking him?” He laughs harder and louder this time, causing Charlie to stiffen beside me. I squeeze his arm, a silent ploy for him to keep it together. This is what Pete wants. If he riles Charlie up enough that he hurts him, no doubt the police will turn up arresting Charlie, and then Chris will find out and start asking questions. I simply can’t let that happen.
“You are, aren’t you?” He laughs again. “Does Chris know about your extra-curricular activities?”
“Leave my fucking shop now, or I’ll…”
“You’ll what? Hit me? Go ahead, punk. Make my day!” Pete beckons him with his hands, causing Charlie to step forward again, but again, I hold him back.
“Stop!” I hiss back with gritted teeth. “This is what he wants.”
“That’s right, Bri. Get your fucking mutt under control.”
Charlie growls, but only loud enough that I hear it. Despite the fact that Pete’s here being a prick, I’m surprisingly calm against Charlie’s chest. His warmth surrounds me, giving me a sense of security that for a moment, under these fucked up circumstances, saddens me. Because it’s temporary. Only ever temporary.
“I’m going to leave now, so keep your fucking hair on.” Pete walks towards the door, but pivots just enough to point at me. “Just remember our agreement. Tonight. Don’t be late.”
He storms out, and once the door is shut, I instantly relax back against Charlie’s chest. He grabs my arm, spinning me to face him, but I surprise him by placing my arms around his waist. “Thank you for keeping it together there.”
His body relaxes, reciprocating my affection, his arms holding me to his chest, my safety net fully engulfing me.
“You’re not going to him tonight, Bri. I fucking refuse to release you to that monster.”
I nod my head, because despite knowing I have no other choice, I also refuse to let Charlie suffer the guilt of knowing I went and that he could do nothing about it. He can’t do anything about it. It is what it is.
“I won’t go tonight,” I mumble into his chest, my eyes slamming
shut at the lie.
“You promise?”
Pinky promise.
Pain slices my heart when the sound of my brother’s voice whispers in my ear. I keep my eyes shut tight, agony tearing away at my insides. It had been our mantra, we’d agreed that promising is sacred, and we would never, ever break our promises.
So when I promise Charlie that I won’t go tonight, it takes everything I have not to break down at my treachery, taking everything I have to keep the nausea, guilt, disgust, and torment locked up tight, deep inside me.
I truly have slipped down that deep, dark, rabbit hole.
I plan out my day, using my lunch break to do a big shop and placing all the bags in the boot of my car. I purposefully don’t buy anything frozen as it will be stuck in the car for hours on end. I then message Chris to let him know that I’m going shopping after work, so he knows I will be a little late back and not worry. I get a message back saying he’s not happy but knows I’ll just ignore him anyway. Apparently, they have a plan of action now to get the Bilkos off our backs. I don’t ask what that plan is, figuring I will get to ask that later. For now, I just need to get through whatever Pete has in store.
Closing my eyes, a wave of nausea erupts in my stomach. He will want more tonight, that’s for certain. And that’s why, when I went shopping, I bought some condoms. If I have to endure his cock in me, I at least want a layer between us. I absolutely refuse to let him come inside me. Just the thought of that has the acid in my stomach threatening to bubble in my throat.
I leave the shop with the empty promise to Charlie that I’m heading home. I even turn my usual right towards home rather than left where I need to go before backtracking.
The closer I get to the park, the more my hands become clammy with sweat, the more my body trembles with anxiety, and the more my gut twists with disgust. Several times today I found myself staring into space, my thumb stroking over the blade of my pocketknife, imagining all the things I could do with it tonight.
Making the last corner, I pull into the wooded area, noticing there’s no one around. No one but Pete who’s eagerly sat on a wooden fence, his smile widening when he notices my car.
Tainted Love Page 19
