She got out of bed to get some water. A cigar box sat on the kitchen counter, half-open. Tinsley couldn’t resist. She sipped her water and flipped open the lid to the box. She saw, straight away, the photo of Charlie and Lila – god, how sweet, she though. They were teenagers; Charlie must have been about nineteen, twenty, Lila a little younger, maybe not even in her teens. Charlie had his heavy arm around her neck and they were both laughing as they play-wrestled.
Tinsley guiltily looked through the rest of the box. Receipts from movies – some really old, she noticed – tickets from the Staten Island ferries, from the Washington State ferries, museum leaflets, concert ticket stubs. A life, she thought, a whole life documented in memories. She had never thought that Charlie could be so sentimental.
She found the letter at the bottom and recognised Lila’s handwriting immediately. The envelope was a heavy, expensive paper and Tinsley picked it up. She hesitated before sliding the notepaper out and opening it.
My dearest, oldest friend,
I have no words to say I’m sorry for leaving like this – just know I would not do so unless it was absolutely necessary.
Charlie, you are my brother, my friend, my guide and knowing I won’t be able to see you, at least not in the near future, is killing me. I have to do this, Charlie, and please, please, don’t come looking for me. Please. I really need to be alone in this.
If you can, or are willing, please give this other letter to the Carnegies and tell them I’m so sorry to do this so soon after Richard’s death.
I’m sorry, Charlie. I’ll miss you and I love you,
Lila.
Tinsley felt tears prick the backs of her eyes. God, what a shitstorm the whole thing was. She wasn’t surprised that Charlie had kept this letter – the bond between them and the love that Lila felt for him was in every line.
‘Enjoying that?’
Tinsley gasped and spun around, dropping the letter to the floor. Charlie, his face half in shadow, waited. She picked the letter up and put it back in the box.
‘Charlie, I’m so sorry, I have no excuse.’
There was a long silence then he stepped forward into the light and she couldn’t read his expression. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
She watched him pick the box up and shove it into a drawer before finally standing. The tension in the air was heavy.
‘Shit, Charlie,’ she went to him and tried to put her hand on his chest but he ducked away.
‘I said, don’t worry about it. I’m heading for a shower, I’m pretty gross.’
He walked away. ‘I could join you,’ she called out, hopefully, but when he didn’t answer, she felt even worse. She debated following him but instead, went back to bed and waited.
He was toweling his hair dry roughly as he walked back into their bedroom. Their bedroom. Huh. They’d been living here less than two weeks and Tinsley couldn’t get used to the fact she was living with a guy. It just wasn’t her and now she found herself wondering if it had been worth the risk. This right here was why she needed her own space, needed somewhere she could absolutely relax. She hated confrontation at the best of times but when it was with the person you were sharing a bed with…
Charlie got into bed and pulled her into his arms. He smelled of shower gel and fresh laundry. Tinsley snuggled up to him gratefully, felt his erection against her thigh and wrapped a leg around him.
‘Forgive me?’
He kissed her roughly. ‘Nothing to forgive.’ he took her, thrusting deep inside her, pressing her back onto the bed as he fucked her. Tinsley, her hands pinned by his, stared up at him as he moved. Something wasn’t right, something was off, she realized sadly.
She didn’t come although she pretended to and when he was in the bathroom afterward, she tried to figure out why. It was only later, when he was snoring gently beside her that she realized what it was. He hadn’t looked directly at her the whole time they’d made love.
The next day she got home to find all his possessions gone, a note on the table.
I can’t do this. I’m sorry. Tinsley re-read the note and then crumpled it in her hand.
She felt strangely relieved.
Seattle
Mr. Halston Applebaum would like to announce the engagement of his son, Dr. Noah Alexander Applebaum of King County, Seattle, Washington State to Miss Lila Tierney of San Juan Island, Washington State.
Lila nodded approvingly. ‘Nice. Short and sweet.’
Noah grinned. ‘Only my Dad would insist on placing an engagement notice nowadays.’
‘Meh,’ Lila shrugged. ‘There’s no harm in it. I’m just glad he likes me, is all.’
On return from the island, Noah and Lila had been busy, out with his father and his step-mother, getting to know some of his friends. She especially liked Jakob and Quilla Mallory and she and Quilla had met up a few times on their own since. She liked the other woman a great deal; she was sassy, and funny and beautiful and more than anything, a survivor. Quilla had been raped and stabbed by a vengeful ex-colleague of Jakob’s and still carried the scars of that attack. Her two young sons, she told Lila, made everything worthwhile.
‘Even though they are exhausting,’ she grinned at Lila. Lila adored the two boys; their mischievous grins and rambunctious personalities were encouraged by their mother – much to Jakob’s chagrin.
‘You’d think she would want them quiet at the end of the day but no,’ he grinned fondly at his wife, ‘I get home and there they are, all three of them, yelling at me, singing at me.’
Lila could picture the scene now and felt a pang of sadness. Would she and Matty have been as bonded as Quilla and her boys? She hoped so.
Quilla nudged her, seeing her contemplation. ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said, ‘and yes, I think you and Matty would have had a great time together.’
Lila smiled at her, tears in her eyes. ‘Thank you. I miss her. I know that sounds strange, but I do.’
‘Of course you do.’
Lila sighed. ‘I keep thinking maybe the stabbing did something to me, made it so I couldn’t carry to full term.’
Quilla’s eyes were kind. ‘I can’t tell you the answer to that, only that when it happened to me, it destroyed my uterus. Hence…’
‘God, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. It’s just one of those things. We didn’t ask for that, did we? We have to make the best of the fact we survived, Lila. We survived.’
Lila was still thinking of Quilla’s words later when she and Noah were alone. ‘Quilla told me that the arts foundation she runs is thinking about branching out to help survivors of violence get back on their feet. She asked me if I would be interested in leading some groups and doing some work around that. I’m not sure what…maybe art therapy?’
She was excited by the prospect and Noah grinned. ‘Look at you, all excited. You look like a kid with a new toy.’
‘Whatever, Grandpa.’ She giggled at his face then. Noah tugged on a lock of her hair.
‘So, I’m thinking we should mark our engagement somehow?’
Lila gave him a look. ‘I told you, I don’t do rings. Wedding yes, engagement…’
‘You wore an engagement ring for Richard.’
Lila swallowed. ‘Noah…this time’s it’s different. Richard kept on and on and on at me to wear one; in the end I just gave in. You know me better than he ever did. You get me.’
Noah sat back in his chair, grinning. ‘Nicely done, Tierney.’
Lila was going to protest but then thought the better of it. ‘Thank you.’ She yawned and crawled into his lap. ‘If you want me tonight, you’ll have to be quick.’
Noah burst out laughing. ‘My god, has the romance gone already?’ He tickled her until she begged him to stop. They made love slowly and leisurely then fell asleep wrapped around each other.
The phone woke them at four in the morning. Noah scrambled for his cell phone and checked it. ‘Yours,’ he said, somewhat smugly and Lila groaned, not even bothering
to open her eyes as she groped for her phone on the nightstand.
‘Yeah?’ Her voice was muffled but then her head shot up, her eyes opened. ‘Charlie? Is everything okay?’
Noah was watching her now, his brow creased. Lila looked at him, and then said into the phone. ‘Okay. Okay then. Let me know. Yeah, you too, bub.’
She ended the call and looked at Noah for a long minute, her eyes full of confusion and sadness. ‘What? What is it, Lila?’
She shook her head in disbelief. ‘It’s all over,’ she said in stunned voice, ‘Riley’s body has been found.’
Manhattan
Woods Kinsayle was white-faced and trembling as he sat beside Charlie in the police cruiser. Charlie, to his credit, had insisted on going to tell the Kinsayles the news himself and Woods had volunteered to help identify the body.
Charlie looked over at him now. ‘Woods…I have to warn you. We pulled him out of the East River – and it looks like he’s been there for some time. There’s…god, Woods, are you sure?’
‘I’ll know if it’s my brother,’ Woods said stiffly. ‘I’ll know.’
Charlie sighed. The body had been discovered by kids who were no doubt telling the story of how they pulled the gross dead guy out of the water. They wouldn’t have to exaggerate much. Riley – if it was him – was bloated, half missing and naked. What they could tell was that there was a bullet hole in what was left of his skull, at the temple. Fish had been eating him, the elements not helping either; there wasn’t much left to identify.
At the mortuary, Woods gagged when he saw the remains. Charlie didn’t blame him. It was hard to think this had once been Riley – fun-loving Riley Kinsayle, with the charm and cuteness women adored. Riley Kinsayle who may or may not have been obsessed with Lila.
‘It’s him,’ Woods said eventually, his eyes locked on the bloated head. He pointed at it. ‘Behind that ear, he had a small ‘K’ tattooed. If it’s there, it’s him.’
The mortician looked at Charlie who nodded once and the mortician, gloved hands, lifted the ear gently. A part of it came away in his hands and Woods whirled around and threw up in the nearest trash can. The mortician – who had seen it all in his day – looked up and nodded. ‘A ‘K’ behind the left ear – confirmed.’
‘Fuck.’ Charlie hissed the word and Woods gave a strangled sob, pushing open the door and slamming out of the room. Charlie thanked the technician and went to find him.
Woods was outside, breathing in deep lungfuls of air to try and not throw up again. Charlie stood at his side and waited.
‘I knew it,’ said Woods eventually, wiping his mouth. ‘I knew he was dead. I could feel it.’
Charlie tried to keep the skepticism out of his tone. ‘Yeah?’
Woods nodded. ‘Okay, so we didn’t get along a lot of the time but he was my brother, you know?’
Charlie nodded, staying quiet. If Woods thought he could kid the world that he and Riley had been close…
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Woods suddenly said, his expression fierce. ‘Yeah, I busted his chops. Yeah I kicked his ass. That’s what we did.’
Charlie couldn’t stop himself. ‘No, Woods, that’s what you did.’
The other man’s expression became sly then. ‘Have you considered that Riley might have killed himself when he found out the guy he trusted with his life every day was trying to lock him up? That you breaking into his apartment and going through his personal stuff was a violation of that trust? That you thinking he could have stabbed Lila in cold blood might have been the straw that broke the camel’s back?’
Charlie looked at him steadily. ‘Riley wasn’t suicidal. And having a wall plastered with photos that the subject didn’t know were being taken isn’t just ‘personal stuff’, Woods, it’s stalking. It’s obsession. Lila had no idea.’
Woods laughed then. ‘God, you poor deluded asshole. You don’t think Lila knew how Riley felt about her? They fucked, for Christ sakes.’
Charlie went very still. ‘You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.’
Woods’ smile was snaky. ‘Your precious little Lila screwed my brother on the floor of the bar. He told me as much himself. See, you can take the girl out of the trailer park but…’
Charlie slammed his fist into Woods’ jaw and the other man went down hard. He tried to defend himself but Charlie whaled on him with his fists, unrelenting until Woods was beaten bloody and two men from the mortuary were pulling Charlie off him.
His captain just shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Charlie. Badge and gun. I wouldn’t be surprised if Woods presses charges. He’d just identified his brother’s for Christ’s sake. Now, look, I can talk to the powers that be, tell them you were distraught over Riley….you listening to me, Sherman?’
Charlie was staring out of the window at the white sky over Manhattan. He shifted his attention to his captain and stared at him, his face set. ‘Don’t bother,’ he said calmly. He stood, placed his gun and badge on the desk. ‘I quit.’
His captain sighed. ‘Sherman, don’t be an idiot.’
‘I’m not. Truly I’m not. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Now Riley’s gone and Tinsley and I have called it quits, there’s nothing left for me here. My family is in Seattle. Lila is in Seattle and I want to be with my family.’
His captain stared at him. ‘Well, you can’t leave until we know about Wood’s condition or whether charges will be brought.’
‘That’s fine. You know where to get a hold of me.’
Charlie walked out into the street and took a deep breath. Yeah, this was what he wanted. He’d had enough of this city; too many damn people. It was time.
He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. When Lila answered, he smiled. ‘Hey kiddo, guess what? I’m coming home.’
Seattle
Lila was only half listening to Quilla as she showed her around the QCM Foundation’s offices. She couldn’t stop thinking about Riley, his merry face, his smile. His body the night they had made love. He had been exactly what she needed that night and now he was dead. Maybe because of her, because she used him. No, no, that night had been so…she had wanted him and he had wanted her. That was it; purely natural, purely instinctual.
But the men in her life kept winding up dead. God.
‘Lila?’ Quilla’s lovely face was concerned. ‘Are you okay?’
If anyone were to understand, it would be this woman but Lila couldn’t bring herself to talk about it. Shame. She felt ashamed. She tried to smile at Quilla. ‘No, sorry, bit of a headache. Where were we?’
‘This is where we interview the people who apply to the fund. It’s very informal but because we just can't give money out left and right, it is quite stringent. I do confess, it’s mostly gut instinct. If someone’s passionate about art, you can tell. If they love pastel chalk under their fingernails or smudged on their cheek, if they talk about a particular shade of a color, you know that person is genuine. If they’re in it for fame or just to impress, sorry, there’s the door.’
Lila considered. ‘I like that. College is great but it depends so much on results, on almost reducing artists to tick-lists instead of who they really are. ‘
Quilla smiled. ‘You get it.’
Lila nodded. ‘I do. What I don’t get is what you want me to do.’
‘Come with me,’ Quilla smiled. She led Lila down to a small office. A young blonde woman was talking to a small of group of females.
‘That’s Nan, she’s a teacher and helped set up this group. This group is for survivors of domestic violence. They can come here, to these offices and downstairs we have studios that they can use whenever they like to just express themselves. We also have some rooms with cots and facilities so that they can stay if they want to. It’s a safe space. Nan runs this workshop twice a week where they can discuss their work and get critiqued.’
Lila looked through the window to watch the women talking and laughing. ‘What a great idea.’
‘We’re ver
y proud. Now, let’s go grab some coffee and I’ll tell you what I have in mind.’
In the spacious, clean cafeteria on the top floor, they sat in comfortable chairs with steaming cups of hot chocolate. Quilla sipped hers.
‘What I have in mind is a new group, for survivors like you and me. Woman – or men, but we may need to do separate groups to avoid triggering – people who have survived non-domestic violent crime. Rape, muggings, attempted murders, serious physical and mental harm. I am a huge believer in art therapy.’
‘Me too,’ Lila was getting excited now. ‘Wow. Wow.’
Quilla grinned. ‘That’s the spirit. What do you say? Want to come run it for us?’
Lila nodded enthusiastically. ‘Hell, yes. God, Quilla, I can’t thank you enough.’
‘No need for thanks, I know you’ll be perfect.’
Lila laughed. ‘You’re very confident in my ability.’
Quilla shrugged, chuckling. ‘Noah has been singing your praises since even before he reconnected with you.’
Lila flushed with pleasure. ‘He has?’
‘Oh yes. I’m probably breaking some sort of ‘bro-code’ here but there were many night of him talking about how he’d met the most perfect woman in the world and how he wished you hadn’t disappeared on him.’
‘There were?’
‘Lila Tierney, are you getting emotional?’
‘No,’ Lila protested but her eyes had teared up and she blinked them rapidly. Quilla laughed.
‘Well, he was a lost cause, Lila. That man is crazy about you.’
Lila grabbed a tissue from her bag. ‘And I about him. We’re getting married, you know.’
‘I do know, and I’m so happy for you.’
‘You’ll come to the wedding?’
‘Try and kept me away. Although I warn you, I’m a terrible drunk.’
Lila laughed. ‘Excellent, then there’ll be two of us.’
His Sweet Torment: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 99
