by Ellis, Kay
When Stef finally arrived, he was out of breath from running in those stupid boots of his; the ones he swore were the height of fashion and insisted on wearing everywhere even though they gave him blisters the size of golf balls. He dropped into the passenger seat, slamming the door hard enough to make the car shudder. Usually, that would have earned him a reprimand for treating my precious car with such little respect, but the words died on my lips when I saw his ashen face and red rimmed eyes.
“Have you been crying?”
“No.” Stef shook his head. “The wind got in my eyes, that’s all.”
“Uh huh.” I twisted in my seat to face him. “Now, try again – with the truth this time.”
“It’s nothing,” Stef insisted, not meeting my gaze. Fresh tears welled in his eyes, and he brushed them away quickly. “Can we just go home please?”
“Not until you tell me what’s got you so upset. Seriously, Stef, is there someone I need to go and kill?”
Usually, it made Stef smile when I said stuff like that, but he turned his head away as a stray tear rolled down his pale cheek. He always thought I was joking, and for the most part I was, but Stef had been hurt in the past because of me, and damned if I would let it happen again. I hadn’t been in a position to protect him before, but it was different now. I would do whatever it took to keep him safe, even if that meant giving someone a bashing and getting arrested again.
“Stef,” I said sharply, when he refused to answer, or even look at me. I reached across the centre console and grabbed hold of his wrist to make him face me. “Talk to me.”
Stef cried out, and yanked his arm away before cradling his wrist to his chest. I frowned, knowing I hadn’t grabbed hold of him hard enough to hurt him. I mean, yeah, I was twice his size and probably four times stronger than he was, but one thing I’d learned, over the past couple of years, how to handle him without being too rough.
“Show me.”
Carefully, I took hold of his elbow, and pulled his arm away from his chest. I pushed up the sleeve of his jacket, and gasped at the sight of the vivid red welts that circled his thin wrist. Already, they were beginning to bruise. I lifted my eyes to his tear stained face, surprised to see the fear, stark in his expression. He was scared of me? Why? I knew I hadn’t done this to him, whatever anyone else might think.
“I told you, it’s nothing,” Stef said, his voice small and shaky. “I bumped into a homeless guy when I came out of the salon. He pushed me away and I banged my arm on the wall.”
“Don’t fucking bullshit me, Stef,” I warned. “I know finger marks when I see them. Someone did more than push you.”
“It’s nothing,” Stef said again, which was infuriating, but I took a couple of deep breaths and bit back my temper. Stef looked at me pleadingly. “Please don’t do anything, Alex.”
“Babe, if someone hurt you, I can’t just let it go. You know that. I’m a shitty enough boyfriend as it is.”
“Fiancé,” Stef sniffed. “And you’re not shitty. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Stef…”
“Please, Alex, just take me home.”
I started the engine, flipped a middle finger at the hovering traffic warden, and drove out of the car park. Stef was silent the whole way home, other than the occasional sniffle. Something was wrong, I knew it; something that went deeper than bad dreams about Jimbo and bumping into homeless guys in the street. Clearly, he didn’t want to tell me about it and I didn’t know how to make him, or even if I should.
It hurt that he didn’t trust me enough to confide in me, but telling him as much would only upset him further, so I kept my big mouth shut. From now on, though, I would be watching.
And Heaven help anybody that hurt my man.
6
We ate cold leftover pizza for tea. It was probably past its best, but it was all we had until I got paid. Stef picked at his food listlessly, and was quiet for pretty much the whole evening. Around nine, Rufus phoned. Stef took his phone and went outside to sit at the top of the stairs where I couldn’t hear what was said. I tried not to let it get to me, but it honestly pissed me off that he would talk to Rufus and not me. What did he have to offer that I didn’t? That jumped up, arrogant, little prick wasn’t good for anything at the best of times. He’d certainly be no use if it came to warning someone off or an actual fist fight.
There was a part of me that was jealous, not just of the closeness between my fiancé and another man, but because, sometimes, I wished I had someone to talk to about all the personal crap. Marcie would have listened, of course, but things had not been the same since Killigan moved in with her. Killigan was another one that liked Stef, and simply tolerated me because he had to. He’d never really liked me though, and it would be hard for me to ever trust a cop, even if he had stood up and vouched for me in court. I was glad for Marcie, that she’d found love and someone who made her happy, but these days I watched what I told her, wondering if she was repeating every word to a man that hated me.
We went to bed early, me spooning Stef as usual, and heaving a sigh of relief when he didn’t push me away. Sex never entered my head, because holding him close wasn’t about getting my rocks off, but about being there for him when he needed me. I heard him crying again, once he thought I was asleep, but I was careful not to react and give away that I’d heard him. Deep down, I was too fucking scared that the reason he was upset was because he didn’t know how to tell me he was leaving me.
Finally, Stef cried himself to sleep, leaving me to lie awake worrying for pretty much the whole night. I wanted to know what was going on with him, but I was also scared of finding out the truth in case it was something bad. And, okay, maybe that meant I totally sucked as a boyfriend – fiancé, whatever – but my knowing was only likely to make things worse. I didn’t know what would happen if Stef really did leave me. I hoped I wouldn’t go back to the person I was before, but without Stef what would be the point of trying to be a better man? Or if I found out that there was someone out there terrorising Stef and making him miserable – I’d have no choice but to hurt them. Kill them if I had to. I’d do whatever it took to protect Stef, even if it meant going to prison and losing him anyway.
In the morning, I slipped quietly out of bed without waking Stef. Sleep would be good for him. Not to mention that I was a selfish bastard who didn’t want to have to see the quiet misery in his eyes. I hoped, when I spoke to him at lunchtime, he’d be back to normal, excitable, funny, sweet Stef, and whatever was going on would quietly fade away to nothing. We wouldn’t mention it again, and if we did, we’d laugh about the day Stef bumped into a homeless guy in the street and we’d both blown it so far out of proportion.
I arrived at work a whole ten minutes early, which seemed to shock the other guys to hell and back. Either that or they always drank their morning coffee in stunned silence. How should I know? Most days I scraped in on time by the skin of my teeth and the guys were already at their work stations.
Grabbing my gear, I set up in the courtyard and waited for one of the guys to bring out the first car for valeting. Tony arrived, giving me a nod of approval before heading into his office and closing the door. At least I’d made someone happy. I still had a bit of making up to do though for my little temper tantrum the other day, so I got my head down and started cleaning those fucking cars like my life depended on it.
Lunchtime came and went before I realised. It wasn’t like I had money to buy anything to eat, so there was no point in taking a break, but it suddenly struck me that Stef hadn’t phoned. I didn’t miss the food, but I did miss the sound of my fiancé’s voice. I walked off the forecourt, and a little way along the road before pulling out my phone and swiping through to my contacts to find Stef’s number. His voicemail picked up after only a couple of rings, and I ended the call with a growl of frustration. Where the fuck was he? Was it a college or a salon day? My useless, fat brain couldn’t remember. Not that it mattered, because he always phoned a
nyway. What if he hadn’t gone to either college or work, and he was still lying in bed, alone and upset?
Going back to the garage, I walked straight into Tony’s office, not bothering to knock.
“Can I talk to you?”
Tony looked up in surprise. “Well… er… yes, of course. Just let me…” He indicated the phone he held in his hand, and I nodded, which was stupid because it wasn’t like he needed my permission to finish his call. He kept his eyes on me, as he spoke to whoever was on the other end of the line. “Listen, Ian, something’s come up. I’ll have to call you back later.”
Dropping the handset into the cradle, he leaned back in his chair and stared at me expectantly.
“Well?”
Well what? Oh, yeah, I’d come in here to talk to him. Only now I didn’t have a clue what I was supposed to say. What was I going to do? Complain about Stef like a whiny little bitch? That was Rufus’s style, not mine. I needed to talk to someone about what was going on, though. Preferably a grown-up, because I sure as shit didn’t feel like one much of the time.
“It’s just… I mean… it’s… well… the thing is…”
“Alex, take a deep breath,” Tony said, interrupting me mid ramble. “Come and sit down, and start again.”
I dropped into the chair on the other side of the desk to him, and did as he suggested. I took a deep, calming breath and tried to get the thoughts straight in my head.
“Something’s wrong with Stef,” I blurted out. “And I don’t know what to do.”
“I see,” Tony replied, his expression serious. “Can you be more specific?”
“I don’t know. He’s just not himself. He’s quiet, and he cries a lot when he thinks I can’t hear him. He had these bruises on his wrist, but he lied to me about how he got them.”
“I see,” Tony said again, and I bit back the urge to tell him he was actually being no fucking help whatsoever. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Alex, but it sounds to me as though Stefan is scared of you.”
“What?” Don’t take it the wrong way? How the fuck was I supposed to take a comment like that? “Why the hell would you think that?”
“Be honest with me, Alex. Was it you who gave him the bruises?”
“No,” I ground out, my jaw clenched tight in anger. See, this was why I never confided in anybody. People always jumped to the same conclusion, and assumed I had to be the bad guy. “I told you already – he won’t tell me where he got them.”
“Okay, okay… I had to ask.”
“No, you didn’t,” I snapped. “You could have just believed me in the first place.”
“Alex, do you know why I gave you your job back against my better judgement?”
“Let me guess,” I said bitterly. “Marcie asked you to let me stay.”
“Not Marcie, that fella of hers, Killigan.” Tony studied me from his position behind the desk. “He was concerned that if I kicked you out, you and Stefan would disappear. He asked me to keep you here and keep an eye on Stefan, make sure he’s safe.”
“Of course he’s fucking safe!” I jumped to my feet, furious. I’d come to him for advice and he was giving me this bullshit? “He’s with me.”
“I’m sorry, Alex, but from what I can gather you’ll have a hard job convincing anyone else of that. I’m not sure even Stefan believes it. I have to tell Killigan what you’ve just told me, you know that don’t you?”
“I came to you for help!” I yelled. Tony shrank back in his chair, looking slightly apprehensive now that he’d realised he’d not only made me angry, but I was between him and the door.
“And that’s the first step,” Tony said calmly, like I was a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Admitting you need help is huge, Alex.”
“I am not abusing Stef!”
I leaned over the desk, pounding the smooth surface with my fist, and feeling a flicker of satisfaction when Tony flinched. Okay, I wasn’t doing myself any favours, getting up in the boss’s face and being all aggressive, but like I cared. Who the fuck did Killigan think he was, telling Tony he had to look out for Stef? None of them trusted me. They never had, but over the past year they’d fooled me into believing they accepted my relationship with Stef. I bet they were laughing behind my back too. Big, dumb Alex, so fucking stupid he actually thinks someone other than Stefan likes him.
“I wish I could believe you,” Tony said, “but I know too much about you. Even if Killigan hadn’t told me what you used to be like, I’ve seen it for myself. You’re always so angry and aggressive, Alex. I never see you smile or talk to your work colleagues. You look at people like you want to kill them half the time.”
“I’m not that bad,” I mumbled, although, deep down, I knew I probably was.
“I’m afraid you are,” Tony argued. “And if you’re like it here, how am I supposed to believe you’re any different when you’re at home? How do I know you’re not as aggressive toward Stefan as you are to just about everybody else?”
“Think what you like,” I said, heading for the door. “You can tell Killigan what you like too. It won’t make any difference. Stef will never leave me.”
I stalked out, slamming the door behind me. God, I was so fucking stupid. If anything, I’d just made the situation worse. The way I’d just behaved would only cement into their minds the violent image they all had of me. Added to which, I’d more or less implied that I was the one hurting Stef, and there was nothing they could do about it. I’d bet good money (if I had any) that Killigan would be here by nightfall, sticking his big fat oar in where it wasn’t wanted. He’d be only too happy to believe I’d hit Stef. That was what he would tell the others, and then Amanda and bloody Rufus would turn up on the doorstep too, all of them trying to persuade Stef he had to leave me.
“Do me a favour,” I said to Nigel, who was hovering anxiously outside the office. “Tell the boss I’m finishing early.”
Tony would probably sack me for walking out, but then again – if he really thought Stef needed saving – maybe he wouldn’t. He might try and keep me close, at least until they could get Stef away. I didn’t care anymore. All I wanted was to find out what was going on with Stef. Someone, somewhere was making him miserable and I was determined to find out who. When I did, I’d put a stop to it once and for all, and I’d do it the old-fashioned way. My way. Make sure whoever it was understood they were messing with the wrong man.
I went home first, although given the size of the place, it took all of thirty seconds to know for sure that Stef was not there. That was a relief, knowing that he hadn’t spent all day in bed feeling sorry for himself. If didn’t explain why he hadn’t called me or answered his phone, but at least he’d gone to work. It was a salon day, not a college day, I remembered that now. If I went into town, I could quietly check up on him through the window. Stef wouldn’t even have to know I was there, and maybe I’d get lucky and see who was giving him a hard time.
Snatching my car keys from the top of the chest of drawers, I paused. I didn’t want to believe it, even for a second, but I had to be certain. I pulled open the top drawer, huffing out a short breath of relief to see it was still crammed full of Stef’s clothes. He hadn’t left me then.
I drove into town and parked in my usual place by the tower. The traffic warden was nowhere in sight, so I took my chances and left the car without a ticket. So what if I got a penalty notice? I didn’t have the money to pay a fine any more than I had it to put in the machine. The traffic warden would probably come in his panties in the knowledge he’d finally got me, so at least I’d make someone happy today.
A few minutes later, I stood across the High Street from Stef’s salon. Staying out of sight wasn’t easy given my size, and Stef spotted me almost instantly. He wasn’t with a client at the time, so he came to the door. I crossed over to meet him, trying to gauge from his face whether he was pleased to see me or not. Stef gave me a small smile and the briefest of hugs, before stepping back and wrapping his skinny arms around his body.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at work?”
“Finished early,” I said, deciding it would be better not to go into detail. “You didn’t phone at lunchtime, so I thought I’d…”
“Check up on me?” Stef asked, frowning.
“Not the words I’d have used, but… yeah, okay.”
He arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “How would you have put it then?”
“Well, I was… you know… not checking up on you exactly. More like, just checking you were okay. I was worried when you didn’t call me or answer your phone. So, are you? Okay, I mean?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” Stef sighed. He didn’t look at me, choosing instead to stare up and down the High Street. He didn’t look fine to me, but before I could argue, he carried on speaking. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t phone, but we’ve been really busy.” He blushed as he followed my gaze to the solitary customer sat inside the salon. “Obviously, not now, but we were before. By the time I was free, I assumed you’d be back at work. I didn’t know you had a half day.”
“Nor did I,” I muttered. “Anyway, I’ve seen you now. I’ll let you get back to work. Pick you up later, yeah?”
He nodded quickly, and ducked back inside the shop. I watched, trying not to let my jealousy show as a couple of his colleagues rushed over and hugged him. Like they knew something I didn’t. Or, worse – they thought he needed comforting after having to deal with yours truly. Stefan grabbed a broom and began to sweep the floor, moving closer to the window. I turned away, not wanting him to think I was spying on him.
Before I had taken more than a couple of steps, there was a loud crash, the sound of glass shattering, and people shouting. Several people ran past me, panicking, maybe thinking they were caught up in the start of a terrorist attack. Bastards had hit Manchester and London in recent months. Why not Weymouth? Me, though, my only thought was for Stef. While other people ran away from the danger, I turned and ran toward it.
