Surrender

by D H Sidebottom

  “Oh hello, Isla.” Her bright red lips curled at the corners, looking like the cat that got the cream, and a huge fucking mackerel to boot.

  Refusing to accept the stab of jealousy that punched me in the gut, I squared back my shoulders and turned to a highly amused Jake. “What the fuck are you prodding her for? Her lady parts have been on Crimewatch. Every fucker in England has witnessed the violation she calls a pussy!”

  Jake’s eyebrows rose into his hairline as his wide eyes twinkled with humour, a complete contrast to Raquel’s huff of offence. He slammed his arm out, grabbing the doorframe and halting Raquel’s quick dive for me, but he never took his eyes off me.

  “Aww, you needn’t be jealous, Isla. Raquel was just leaving. She came with the excuse that she left something of hers the night of the party.” He leaned towards me and winked. “But between you and me, she was hoping I would fuck her.” He tutted and shook his head.

  Raquel stiffened and stared at him with narrow eyes. “No,” she said with a blush. “I honestly thought I’d left them here.”

  “Left what?” I have no idea why I asked but I thought I should join in the conversation.

  “Her glasses, apparently,” Jake informed me with a nod of his head, his eyes laughing.

  “Raquel, how desperate are you? You don’t even wear specs. Besides, your laser glare wouldn’t work behind lenses. Have you never noticed how Superman takes his off first?”

  Jake snorted, lowering his eyes to the floor as he removed his arm to allow Raquel through.

  We watched her teeter across the gravel and climb into her sporty little car. I’d always wondered how she afforded it on her waitress wages, but then I shrugged to myself; it was pretty obvious that one of her many conquests paid for it.

  Turning back to Jake, I found him standing with the door wide open. I frowned at him. He rolled his eyes. “Oh I’m sorry, were you waiting for an invitation? Would you care to come in, Isla?”

  Huffing at his arrogance, I stormed past him, making sure to nudge him with my shoulder—just because I was mature like that.

  As I started to say something, he grabbed my hand and led me across the floor, shocking the words back into my voice box when he held up a single finger to silence me. “Just wait. I think I need a drink before you start scorching my ears.”

  I remained silent like a good little girl when he took me into a large room. Dropping my hand he continued across the room to a small side table and snapped up a bottle of whisky. He lifted it to me, asking if I wanted a shot. I shook my head slowly.

  It was the first time I’d seen him out of his suit. He wore dark jeans and a simple grey V-neck t-shirt that sat against his body perfectly, showcasing his physique as though it had been designed specifically for him.

  He turned back to me, the glass of alcohol held tightly in his fingers. “Okay, now you may let rip.”

  I stared at him with incredulity. “What the fuck?”

  He shrugged. “What’s the point in beating around the bush, Isla? You obviously came here to say something, so say it. I’m a grown man, I’m sure I can handle whatever it is without dropping to my knees and weeping.”

  Why the hell he had the ability to make me seethe like he did, I had no idea. He shouldn’t have made me so damn emotional; he didn’t deserve any emotion. Gripping onto my remaining courage, or madness, I took a deep breath.

  “I can’t accept your . . . gifts, Jake. Nor can I accept your job, or your house, or your car, or even your damn shower gel, which I may add is just fucking creepy.”

  He stared at me nonchalantly, his deep green eyes boring through me and making me even more furious. “Why?”

  “Why? I don’t even understand why.”

  He cleared his throat and downed his whisky. Remaining quiet he refilled his glass then looked at me. “They are my way of apologising.”

  I shook my head in confusion. “Apologising for what?”

  He lowered his eyes for a moment then looked back up at me. The depth in his eyes caused me to gasp quietly. The deep green irises were alight and flickering with a blaze of emotion, his deep, heavy breaths drawing his chest up and down. Blinking slowly he sighed again, his expression one of sadness. “An apology for fucking you good and hard in two different ways, Isla.”

  My whole body tensed, my eyes widening in shock as my heart slammed against my chest in a single heavy thud. My pussy clenched as my knees wobbled. “W . . . w . . .” I licked my lips and tried again. “I’m sorry, what?”

  I stepped back when he took one giant step towards me, his long legs consuming the gap between us too quickly. He nodded arrogantly. “I am going to fuck you, Isla. And furthermore, when I do, you’ll be begging me to. You’ll offer your soul to me so long as I fuck you.”

  I shook my head, unable to say anything when he stood before me. I hadn’t even realised he’d reached me until his nose almost touched mine.

  “Don’t bother denying it. We both know before long my cock will be fucking some exquisite part of you. Your sweet little pussy, your tight firm arse. Your mouth will be full of my cock soon, even your fingers will make me come. And hell,” he tipped his head, his smile arrogant and cocksure, “I’ll even fuck your pert little titties, Isla. I’m going to fuck every—inch—of—your—glorious—little body.”

  Something was wrong with my lungs. He’d cast a spell on them. They refused to work and all that came out was a wheeze.

  “My cum will cover your pale, soft skin, dripping from your mouth, your thighs, your face and your ass. My thick creamy spunk will be smeared across your tits, an indication that you’ve been thoroughly fucked.”

  His eyes roamed my face, reading my reaction to his words. Luckily my body’s response was from a place he couldn’t see as he looked at my face. He shrugged and suddenly walked away, leaving me staring at the space he had been stood in. Finally I blinked and looked up at him. “And the second way?”

  I rolled my eyes at myself. After all that, that was all I could ask.

  He stilled with his back to me. Lifting the glass to his mouth, he drained it then dropped his face to the floor. “Ah, that’s what the apology is for. After I’ve physically fucked you, after your throat is hoarse from screaming my name so many times. After the many orgasms I give you leave your bones weak and helpless and your sweet cunt is so sore that you will feel me inside you for days, weeks even. Then and only then will I mentally fuck with your mind.”

  “What?” I croaked, damning the high pitched squeak.

  He sighed heavily then turned to me. The sad gaze was back, his eyes full of remorse as he slowly blinked at me. “Yeah, that’s why I am apologising in advance, because you won’t allow me to say sorry after I’ve broken your heart.”

  I was suddenly so mad, his disregard for anything so God damned infuriating. “Who the hell do you think you are?” He stared at me, his face impassive as though he had expected me to say that very thing. “For one,” I held up a finger. “There is no way on earth you will ever bed me. And for two, what makes you think you can tear my heart apart?” Walking over to him, I made sure to get in his face. “You think you know it all, Jake. But actually you know nothing. There’s one thing you got wrong. I don’t have a heart so breaking it is impossible.”

  He stared after me when I turned and walked away. I stilled before shutting the front door when his voice stopped me. “Just remember, Isla,” he said quietly, “That I apologised. And you need to know how fucking sorry I will be, because out of all the people I hurt, hurting you will be my deepest regret.”

  He never made any sense. I thought my brain was warped but his was so twisted he was delusional.

  “Don’t worry,” I whispered without turning. “I won’t give you the chance.”

  I growled when he had to have the last word before I had the chance to shut the door behind me. “We’ll see, Isla Cormack. We’ll see.”

  “HEY.”

  My heart beat settled down when Seb opened his eyes and sque
ezed my hand.

  “Hey, sis.” His face was so severely bruised that I couldn’t see the blush of shame, but I knew it was there.

  Suddenly, all the things I had gone there to say became impossible. His eyes filled with tears before he squeezed them closed, his face pinching at the pain it caused.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Shush,” I whispered as I perched on the edge of his bed and pushed the floppy bit of hair away from his eyes. “It’s okay. I know.”

  He shook his head, almost glaring at me. “No, Isla, it’s not okay. It never will be. I can’t keep doing this to you. You saved my life so many times¸ and all I do is fucking hurt you.”

  I shook my head and swallowed the lump away that had formed in my throat. I knew what he was referring to and his guilt made me so mad. “Seb, don’t you dare. Why the hell you think I saved your life when it was my fault he . . .”

  We both looked away, my stomach churning with the mention of him.

  “Well,” he said quietly. “Whatever. I’m not going to let the guilt and nightmares hurt me or you anymore. I’m done.”

  I nodded, giving him a wide smile, my heart sighing with relief. Before I had a chance to encourage his determination and tell him I would help him book in somewhere to undergo rehab, the door to Seb’s hospital room opened and my father walked in with a polystyrene cup in his hand. He smiled at both of us. “I’m sorry, sugar pie. If I’d known you were coming I’d have got you one.”

  I stood up, kissing his cheek when he leaned in to kiss mine. “I have to go anyway.” Seb stared at me when I turned to him, as though he wanted to say something, but forced a smile instead. “I’ll be back in the morning.”

  He nodded. “Love you,” he called out as I closed the door.

  “And you, little brother.”

  My heart ached all the way down the fourteen floors in the elevator, but a part of me hoped that this time he would keep to his word and get the help he had refused before. Hell, I’d even pay the bill myself. In fact, if I hadn’t been so stubborn I would have the wages that could pay for it.

  Groaning to myself and regretting my spontaneous side, I knew I’d have to swallow my pride and ask for my job back, the job I’d quit before I’d even started. But for Seb, for the guilt that swallowed me whole every day, I’d do anything.

  After treating myself to a burger and chips and using the time to phone round some rehab centres to obtain a few quotes, I arrived home late and found the little red Fiesta still parked in front of the cottage. A faint light came from the front window of the house and I could see the top of Adam’s shaved head inside, so taking a deep breath I opened the front door.

  He was reading one of my books, his legs tucked under him on the sofa. The fake log fire roared and a lamp on the table beside him provided him with a cosy light to read with. I smiled to myself. He was so engrossed in the book that he hadn’t even heard me walk in.

  “Boo!” I shouted in his ear as I crept up on him. His body lifted at least four inches off the sofa, all the blood draining from his face as his wide eyes rounded with horror.

  Laughing, I shook my head at him. “I’m sorry, couldn’t resist. You looked engrossed.”

  He blew out a breath and placed his hand on his chest as though that would settle his frantic heartbeat. “Bloody hell, Isla! You scared the shit out of me. Even my balls have shrivelled up with fear.”

  I walked into the kitchen, shouting over my shoulder. “You want a drink?”

  “Of course,” he said from directly behind me.

  “Where’s Leah?” I asked as I filled the kettle and he parked himself o one of the chairs, the book, I noticed, still clutched in his hand. I knew I’d never spend time with Mr Grey again and that before long he’d be back for volume two and three.

  He waggled his eyebrows at me, a grin on his face. “She’s out with Kris.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Never takes her long.”

  I sat opposite Adam at the table and placed our drinks down. Adam slowly slid the car keys across the table to me, an eyebrow raised in question when I blushed and took them from him. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. “No problem. PMT?”

  My mouth popped open and I glared at him. “Why do men always think PMT explains everything concerning a woman?” He tipped his head and I sighed. “Okay, maybe I am due,” I mumbled under my breath.

  He laughed, shaking his head before lifting his mug to drink. “We still okay for you to start Monday?”

  I nodded again. “If that’s still okay?”

  “Of course. Don’t be daft. We all have our moments, Isla. And trust me, where Jake is concerned, I completely understand your . . . reactions.” He frowned and peered at me then pointed to my lip. “What happened?”

  Waving him off, I chuckled. “Got a little drunk last night. My face found the floor before my feet did.”

  He stared at me, his eyes holding mine for a moment to give me a chance to change my lie but when he realised I wasn’t going to, he sighed and shook his head, standing up. “Well I have to go. Call in to my office in the morning. We need to sort some paperwork out.”

  Nodding, I picked up both our cups draining mine and started to rinse them out at the sink.

  “Isla,” he said quietly from behind me. I didn’t turn around. I could tell from his tone that I wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “If you’re in some sort of trouble . . .”

  “No,” I cut in quickly. “Don’t be silly. I just need to curb my drinking addiction.”

  I could feel his eyes boring into my back. Turning, I found him still watching me. For a moment neither of us said anything.

  “Well,” he eventually said, “you are part of the Devine family now. You need anything then you need to accept that it will be sorted.” He paused, the deep blue hue to his eyes darkening before he lowered his voice. “And by anything, Isla. I mean . . . anything.”

  My phone rang from inside my bag as Adam and I looked at each other. It sounds strange but something between us clicked. I can’t explain it but I knew, without a doubt, that he would keep to his word. If I ever needed him, he would be there.

  My phone rang again as we stood silently. Finally Adam blinked and gestured with his chin to my bag on the table. “Sounds important, you’d better get it.”

  I reached for my phone, smiling softly at him. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He nodded and shut the door behind him.

  Within thirty seconds, after the sound of my gut wrenching scream filled the air, Adam rushed back inside. He found me on the floor, rocking back and forth and mumbling random shit, the phone that still echoed my Dad’s voice dropped by my side as my whole world shattered.

  I PEERED UP AT Jake through blurry eyes when he handed me a crystal tumbler containing golden liquid. What was here doing here? Looking around, I realised I wasn’t really here. I was on an unfamiliar couch, the plush overfilled cushions under my backside comforting and warm. I knew I was in Jake’s house. How I had got there, I hadn’t a clue. However, I was too exhausted to care.

  He gave me a simple nod when I brought the glass to my mouth. “It’s okay, Isla,” he encouraged softly. “Drink.”

  I tipped the glass back, allowing the warm fiery liquor to soothe my throat. My eyes remained on Jake’s soft green ones as the heat from the whisky seeped into my tummy and gobbled up the emptiness.

  When I brought the glass away it was empty. Jake refilled it, the clink of the bottle rim against the edge of my glass making me jolt.

  He settled into an armchair opposite me. He gracefully lifted one leg and rested his ankle against his knee, his eyes warm and observant as he took a sip of his own drink, the ice in his glass creating a harmonious tune when he tipped it back.

  We sat in silence, both of us gazing at each other. Jake was watchful and I was vacant. Everything felt numb, as though I didn’t belong inside the carcass that was carrying me around, as though the thing beating inside my chest was an echo of someone
else’s heartbeat, or a ghostly impression of something that had once been there.

  Looking away from his stare I fixed my attention on the carpet, noticing how deep the pile was. Of course it would be; Jake Devine wouldn’t furnish his house with anything but the best.

  “He said he was done,” I whispered out of the blue, even surprising myself with the words. Jake remained silent, his attention completely on me, his own voice mute as mine needed to be heard. “I thought he meant he was finished with the drugs.” Taking another sip of whisky, I shook my head. “He meant he was done with life.”

  I noticed a small red stain in the beige carpet beside Jake’s chair and stared at it. My eyes felt heavy, my limbs almost jelly-like as my breathing became a pulse in my head, my mind focusing on the in and out of it.

  I lifted my head and looked at Jake who was still in the same position, surveying me with a soft expression. “How desperate must you be to climb out of a fourteenth floor window?”

  He didn’t answer me. My eyes closed for a moment but I snapped them open.

  “Isla,” Jake’s soft voice penetrated the haze enveloping me. “Let it happen. Close your eyes, sweetheart.”

  I did as he told me, grateful for his permission. The last thing I felt was the glass being taken from my hand and my body being lifted. A calming embrace surrounded me tight and firm, the comforting scent of Jake shrouding me as I snuggled into him.

  I allowed the darkness to take me somewhere with no emotion.

  HER SNORES WERE SOFT and regular, almost soothing to the rage burning in my gut. Her long dark eyelashes lay against her soft pink cheeks; once or twice a flicker made them shiver. Her full lips were pale, their usual natural pink tint gone, evaporated with her spirit the moment she received the call that broke her soul.