Taking Care Of Leah

by Charlotte Howard

  “Just behave,” Ty said, grabbing a glass and pouring a drink. He knocked it back, seething as the honey liquid burned his raw throat. “I’m going to have a shower. Don’t destroy the place.”

  “You’re going to join in, though, aren’t ya?” Lance called after him as he went back to the bedroom.

  * * * *

  Leah stepped out of the bathroom, drying her hair. Cool droplets fell over her shoulders, creeping below the thickened hem of the towel. She smiled as Ty appeared. He looked delicious, but brooding. His forehead was wrinkled, eyebrows knitted together with a stern frown, but it relaxed a little, smoothing out as he met her eye.

  “I won’t be long,” he said, kissing her forehead. “I’d say go and make yourself gorgeous, but you already are.”

  “We can’t escape?”

  “We only just got back, and I have a feeling Rainie might need some support later.”

  Leah rolled her eyes. “Okay. But you’re not allowed to leave me alone with either of them,” she said, pointing a warning finger in his direction.

  “I promise.”

  * * * *

  Rainie felt sexy. She’d left her hair down and even bought a pair of straighteners to get rid of the kinks and waves. It had taken her almost an hour to do her makeup—she wasn’t used to applying so many layers to hide the blemishes and framing her eyes with thick mascara. The glasses were gone too. Normally she hated contacts, but for one night she’d risk the agony of dry eyes.

  Standing at the front door, she adjusted her cleavage. There wasn’t much of it, but she’d invested in a Wonderbra, which at least gave the illusion of curves that were meant to be there, all squeezed into a tight and very low-cut top, and coupled with a knee-length skirt. She failed to understand how women could torture themselves with wire and spandex every day.

  Her heels wobbled beneath her, and she hoped that she’d be allowed to spend most of the evening sitting down, perhaps between those two hunks she’d met in the nightclub. She thought that Leah was a very lucky woman to be surrounded by so much masculinity.

  “Fuck me sideways,” Jerry said when he opened the door. “Rainie, right? Leah’s friend?”

  “Yes.” She nodded and offered her sexiest smile, a little offended that he might have forgotten who she was.

  “She’s still getting ready. Come into the kitchen and get yourself a drink. We’ve been banned from the living room for now,” he added with a wink.

  Unwanted nerves quivered through Rainie’s entire body. She forced a wide smile and stepped inside. Briefly, she noticed that not one thing was out of place—even the wallpaper was lined with careful precision.

  “Here.” It was Lance who handed her a glass of something that smelled sickly sweet and closed the gap between them. She swallowed it in one gulp and spluttered as the aniseed hit the back of her throat. Both men laughed, and Lance made her another. She took it without hesitation and drank it down, this time ready for the searing heat and licorice taste.

  By the time Leah and Ty found them, she was on her fourth glass of the homemade punch and the room had begun spinning at a rapid rate. Her stomach gurgled and twisted into knots as she drained the dregs and handed the tumbler back to whoever was doing the honors of getting her rip-roaringly pissed.

  “And I think you’ve had enough,” said a male voice. He caught her as she stumbled over her own feet. Exaggerating a swoon, she glanced up, hoping to see Jerry, but it was Ty smiling down.

  “Hiiii…” She waved a hand up, slapping him across the jaw.

  “How much has she had?” Leah stepped in, helping her to stand straight.

  “Only…this many.” Rainie held a hand up with what she thought might be three or four fingers. Nothing made sense. The deliciously dangerous concoction had annihilated her inhibitions and ability to focus. A hurried and loud conversation ensued between the other people in the room, but was silenced as more guests arrived and the music was turned up.

  She felt her arm being draped over some shoulders, and she was guided into another room. A cool breeze wafted over her, helping to dissipate some of the headache that built in her sinuses. She pinched at her nose, groaned and leaned forward so that her head was between her knees.

  “I’ll stay,” Leah said, rubbing large circles in the middle of Rainie’s back. “Go deal with those two.”

  “Sorry,” Rainie grumbled, collapsing in a drunken heap, head resting on Leah’s lap.

  “It’s okay,” she soothed. “What are friends for?”

  “Is that what we are? Friends?”

  “I’d like to think so.”

  “So… You and…” She searched for his name. “Ty. Ty, that’s it. You two. Are you…?”

  “Yes.”

  Rainie scoffed. “You get all the luck.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “You do!” She slapped a hand upward. “You’re beautiful, and confident, and sexy and intelligent. Look at me. I’m…pfft.” She blew a raspberry and closed her eyes.

  “You’re just drunk,” Leah reassured.

  “I’m…something.” Voices blurred. Her head was spinning through the darkness. “But he’s not all that…”

  Leah sighed and stroked Rainie’s hair. She wondered what she had meant when she’d said, ‘He’s not all that.’

  Ty entered the room holding a blanket. Leah shifted from under Rainie’s weight, taking the fleece and placing it over her dozing body.

  “She okay?” Ty asked.

  Leah nodded. “What the hell is in that stuff?”

  “Half a bottle of absinthe with some Sambuca, tequila, vodka and whatever else was in the cupboards by the sounds of it. They’re all shit-faced. Want a glass?”

  “Sounds like my idea of a party,” Leah drawled, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

  Ty sniggered. “Leave her to sleep it off for a bit. I don’t think they’re expecting anyone else to arrive, and apparently this party is for you.” He held a hand out.

  “Fine,” she said reluctantly, putting her palm on his and leaving Rainie with her intoxicated dreams.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Pop music blared out of the CD player, filling the kitchen and drowning out the possibility of conversation. She recognized a few faces from school, but most of them were people she had never met before. Ty had done a good job of playing host, introducing her to everyone they bumped into or spoke to, which happened often, considering how packed the ground floor was, minus the front room.

  Leah grabbed a glass and filled it with white wine from the fridge. After seeing the effects of the punch, she’d made the conscious decision to pour her own drinks. Ty had been accosted by a burly guy he used to work with. He gave her an apologetic glance from across the kitchen before turning back to the bald man and laughing at a private joke.

  She was sipping at the cool, refreshing drink when a woman stepped a little too close.

  “Great party, huh?” she said, beaming. Her neck and wrists were adorned with paste jewelry that jangled and clinked whenever she moved. Leah could hear the rattle of fake gold on fake gold, even above the sound of an electric guitar being shredded while a drum boomed around her. “So you’re Ty’s new bird then?” she continued.

  Leah smiled and nodded in agreement. “Guess so.”

  “Candice,” the woman said. She grabbed Leah’s shoulders and pulled her into a hug, kissing both her cheeks. Candice was older than Leah by at least a decade, with deep brown eyes and jet-black hair in tight curls that suited her olive complexion.

  “Have you known Ty long?” Leah asked, probing the depth of her relationship with Ty.

  “A while,” she said with a nod, taking a glass that was handed to her. By the look on her face, it was the infamous punch she’d been given to try. “We used to work together,” she explained. “I’m the owner of Kiss-Kiss.”

  “Oh,” Leah exclaimed. “The club. You two stayed in contact?”

  “You could say that.” Candice gave her a knowing smile.
Leah felt her insides twist with jealousy. “All over now, though,” she assured her. “But he still uses and abuses me from time to time. You know, getting in for free, queue jumping, using my back office…” She tossed her a wink. The jealousy morphed into embarrassment.

  “Oh,” Leah mouthed.

  “Hey, don’t sweat it. I know what that bad boy’s like, and how difficult it is to say no to him. He is certainly a force of nature.” She looked over her shoulder toward Ty, who was still laughing and joking with the man who looked like a bouncer, and let out an audible sigh. “It’s a pity he’s not at the club anymore.”

  “What happened?”

  “He didn’t tell you? No, I guess he wouldn’t. It’s not really my place to say.” She reached out and rubbed Leah’s arm.

  “Leah!”

  Leah turned to face the hallway. A familiar face broke through the throng. Large doe-like gray eyes framed in long and luscious lashes that were batted at any man who looked her way. An incredible grin headed at her.

  “Yvonne!” Leah gripped her best friend in a tight hug, surprised to see her. “How are you? What are you doing here?” She fired a hail of quizzical questions.

  “I’m fine, much better, thanks. Bloody norovirus. The doctors thought they were going to have to put me on a drip! I felt like utter shit. How are you? I got your text.” Yvonne looked around the house, taking in everything she saw. “Nice place. Are you seriously moving in? I haven’t even met the guy yet.”

  “Von, what are you talking about?”

  “You must be Yvonne.” Ty appeared at her side and gave Yvonne a friendly kiss on the cheek. “It’s my fault,” he admitted. “You looked so miserable when I mentioned the party. I thought it only fair that you had at least a couple of friends here. I borrowed your phone while you were in the shower earlier.”

  Leah frowned. She couldn’t remember telling Ty anything about Yvonne, or mentioning her friends outside work at all. “Stalker,” she said, sticking her tongue out.

  “I can’t stay long,” Yvonne said, feigning a sad face. “But I wanted to meet this Mr. Perfect that you were so intent on moving in with after, like, a week.”

  Leah blushed at the mention of the texts she’d sent previously.

  Yvonne set her sights on Ty. “What do you do?”

  “I’m a—”

  “Colleague,” Leah interrupted, and she saw the hurt in Ty’s expression. “He works at the school.”

  There was a loud crash. The sound of shattering glass caught everyone’s attention.

  “Shit. Ty!” Jerry yelled.

  Ty pushed his way through the crowd.

  “So he’s a teacher?” Yvonne asked.

  “No. He’s a… He’s the caretaker.”

  “Oh,” Yvonne mouthed. “He doesn’t look like a caretaker. I thought they were all old and closing in on retirement.”

  Leah chuckled. “Yeah, I don’t know why he works there.”

  “Mysterious. I like…”

  Leah smiled, glancing around the room, wondering what on earth had happened.

  * * * *

  “You’re a fucking moron,” Ty spat, grabbing a towel from the draining board and wrapping it around Jerry’s hand. He’d sliced it open trying to clear up the broken bowl. The floor was covered in the remnants of the punch, shards of glass reflecting the alcohol and light.

  Dragging Jerry over to the sink, Ty took off the cloth and ran the cold water, cleaning the wound. “It’s a minor cut,” he said, taking Jerry’s other hand and slapping it over the injury. “You’re lucky you didn’t sever an artery.” Picking up a dishcloth, he wrung it out and chucked it in Lance’s direction. “Get a brush and clean up the glass, then clear that mess up.”

  A crowd had gathered, all trying to get a peek at the gore, and all groaning in disappointment when they saw the inch-long red line.

  “Fucking hurts, mate,” Jerry whined.

  “You’re a giant girl. Man up. There’s a first aid kit in the upstairs bathroom. Get a plaster or something.” He pushed Jerry into the hall before helping Lance clear up the sticky floor and emptying the dustpan of glass into a bin. “I would suggest you start to calm this place down.”

  “We could move into the front room,” Lance suggested.

  Ty pinched the bridge of his nose. “Give me a minute.”

  Rainie was beginning to wake when he walked in. “I am so sorry, Ty,” she cried. “I drank too much too quickly again.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Don’t tell Hilary, please. She threatened to fire me last time I got myself into such a state. I had the staff handbook thrown at me, with the personal conduct page highlighted. I swear that woman has spies everywhere.”

  “I’m not going to tell her anything. Why would I?”

  “I’m so sorry, it’s not like me. Any of this.”

  “I know.” He sank onto the sofa and wrapped an arm around Rainie’s shoulders, ignoring the skewed state of her top and the wrinkled skirt that was now well above her knees. “Do you want to go and sleep it off? I think they’re going to come in here now.”

  “Where’s Leah?”

  “Talking to a friend. She’s worried about you, though,” he added.

  “Would you mind?”

  “Nah, go and find a bed. You can stay the night. I’ll take you home in the morning.”

  “Thanks, Ty. You’re a good friend. I wish you were more…” She lifted a hand and palmed his face. Ty jumped back. “Oh, bugger.” Rainie groaned. “Oh, bugger, bugger, bugger! Ty, I’m sorry. Don’t tell Leah. Please!”

  “You’re drunk. Go and sleep it off.” He watched Rainie stumble out of the lounge, listened to her heavy footsteps thud up the stairs. “Shit,” he said to himself. “What a fucking night.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The street was shrouded in darkness, broken by the orange glow of streetlights and flickering TVs from behind curtains. Leah rubbed her arms against the chill that blew around her as she waved Yvonne goodbye and promised to catch up with her in the week.

  She turned to go back indoors just as Lance came toward her with a full glass of something cold. Ice cubes landed on her cleavage, and the smells of vodka and an energy drink permeated her senses. She tried to cry out, but it sounded more like a shriek than an expletive.

  “I am so sorry.” Lance laughed, planting a palm on one of her breasts in an attempt to wipe the splashed drink away. The wipe became a paw, and Leah slapped his hand away.

  “Idiot,” she snapped, storming past him and up the stairs. She could still hear him laughing as she reached the top step.

  Stripping the dress over her head, she let it drop in a sticky pile on the floor. As she patted at her chest, she realized that the drink had done more than soak her clothes. She furrowed her brow in disgust as the sweet stench crawled over her body, and removed her bra as well. Grabbing a makeup-cleansing wipe, she smeared it over her breasts and cleavage. She was still topless when she heard the handle of the door being pushed down.

  “Fuck me sideways…” breathed Jerry. He closed the door and stepped forward closer to her, each stride filled with more purpose than the last.

  “Get out,” she snarled, darting for the chest of drawers and grabbing one of Ty’s T-shirts. She pulled it over her head, blocking her view for a mere second, but it was long enough for Jerry to close the gap. “I said get out.” She stepped away, stumbling on her heels and falling backward. Her backside stung as she landed with a thud, loudly enough that she hoped someone downstairs would hear and come to her rescue.

  “Come on…” Jerry cooed, rubbing at the white bandage that stretched across his hand. “Ty won’t mind. He’s used to sharing girls.”

  “Not me,” she stated, pushing her hands into the plush carpet beneath her.

  “Do you even know what he’s into? What he’s really into?” He dropped to his knees, crawling on all fours over her. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. She smelled the intent. Her elbows quaked, thre
atening to give way.

  He looked down at her with dangerous brown eyes. “Has he told you how he likes to fuck?” His tone was low and deep, sending shock waves to her core. Leah gulped at the fear that built. She could hear her breath catching each time she tried to fill her lungs.

  “Get off me, Jerry,” she said, trying to find her voice.

  “He has,” he acknowledged, dropping closer to her. “Then it’s my turn.”

  Leah fought to edge backward. “Fuck you,” she spat, clambering from under him. She stood up, his face against her feet. It was tempting to kick him square in the jaw, maybe knock a few teeth out. He jumped up before she had time to process the thought.

  “Oh, come on…” He swayed. “It’s just a bit of fun.” Jerry reached out and grasped at her hips. The connection between her palm and his cheek came with a sharp slap. She shifted away from him, twisting and turning, trying to find her way to the door, shaking the sting from her hand.

  “You’re drunk.”

  “And horny,” he said, waggling a finger in her direction. He sidestepped and blocked her exit. “But that’s something we can fix.”

  “What about Rainie? I thought you liked her.” Leah glanced over his shoulder at the door, which remained shut.

  Jerry scoffed. “Yeah, when I’m desperate for a quick shag. She’s easy enough, but she’s not…” He took hold of her again, sweeping his hands over her backside and teasing with the hem of the T-shirt. “You.”

  Crunch!

  Leah dug her knee into his crotch. Jerry dropped to the ground, clutching his balls. “Fucking bitch!” he screamed.

  “Fucking twat,” she spat, stepping over his fetal curl.

  The door swung open and Rainie walked into Leah. “What’s going on?” She glanced over Leah. “Why are you only wearing that?” Pushing past, Rainie forced her way into the room and saw Jerry, hands in his pants, readjusting himself.