“Get off,” I managed to slur. “Get off. Go away.”
“Not a chance.”
“Mmm, I forgot, you need to come first. Then you’ll go.”
He sighed heavily. I felt myself moving but my damn eyes still wouldn’t accept my command to open. My tummy didn’t appreciate the sway and I groaned, my cheeks swelling as I tried to take deep inhalations through my nose.
“Hang on,” he whispered as he sped up slightly.
Suddenly, as if I’d blinked and missed a moment in time, I was hung over the toilet, a hand circling my back and another holding my hair back as my stomach emptied the volume of alcohol it couldn’t cope with.
Tears sprang from my eyes with the force and I mentally chastised myself, hating that Jake was witnessing my humiliation. I didn’t want him there. I didn’t want him to see my grief, but at the same time I wanted his comfort, his soothing words that whispered around me as he tried to ease my distress. I didn’t want his help but I needed his compassion. I couldn’t keep up with the argument my head was having with my heart.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you.”
I snorted as another wave of sickness crippled me. Shaking my head, I replied between heaves. “You’ll never have me, Jake Devine. Never.”
His chuckle angered me. I hated his arrogance, the way he took what he wanted and didn’t care what people thought of his selfishness.
I sighed and drooped over the loo when I felt the last of the sickness leave me, my eyes heavy once again. A damp cloth lightly wiped my face then my mouth was gently prised open. I grumbled when I tasted mint and the soft strokes of a toothbrush cleaning away the taste of vomit.
Then I was lifted and moved again before a soft and soothing mattress took my weight. A warm press of lips on my head as I succumbed to sleep. Then a soft whisper I didn’t understand before I dropped deep.
“I’ll always have you, Isla Cormack. Because you’ve always had all of me.”
“OH DEAR GOD,” I mumbled. I heard him laugh from behind me and I blew out an exasperated breath. “Bloody hell, Jake. Why for two mornings in a row have I woken to find you in bed with me?”
“I know.” He chuckled, “And not once have you had the pleasure of feeling me inside you.”
Before I could reply, I felt the bed move and he slipped out. I couldn’t move any part of my body without it hurting. I’d managed to open my eyes but even that forced a pain through my head.
“Where do you keep your painkillers?” he asked quietly.
“Kitchen cupboard above the sink.”
I couldn’t have argued with him if I tried. For one Jake wasn’t the type that would listen anyway and for two, it hurt to talk.
My stomach vaulted when I knew what today would bring. I made a mental note to ring Adam and tell him I would be back at work the next day. I knew he’d refuse but to be honest, I needed the diversion, hoping it would keep my mind occupied. I was all for burying shit to the back of my mind, but lately the shit I’d pushed back for ten years was bursting to get free, devouring my soul in its conquest to be dealt with. I knew it wasn’t healthy and I knew I’d have to deal with the grief of Seb’s death sooner or later, but I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to accept it never mind face it.
Jake walked back in carrying a glass of tomato juice and gestured for me to sit up. I pouted. He tutted and flicked his finger, sternly commanding instead of asking that I sit up.
Grumbling under my breath, I manoeuvred as delicately as possible until I formed some sort of sitting position.
Planting two paracetamol in my palm, he waited until I’d popped them into my mouth then handed me the thick gloppy red mixture. “I can’t,” I mumbled around the pills that sat on my tongue, the stench and look of the juice making my stomach argue with me, threatening its revolt if a drop of the stuff so much as hit the lining of it.
It was then I realised all Jake was wearing was tight boxers. My mouth dried even more but suddenly all thoughts of nausea disappeared. His body, and I hated to admit it, was pure perfection, all hard lines and disciplined contours. It was obvious he worked out and looked after himself.
I squinted when my eyes fell on a tiny mark just below his right pectoral muscle. Leaning forward, Jake stepped back, his eyes regarding me questioningly.
“Oh relax,” I grumbled grabbing his hand to pull him forward again. “I’m not going to take a bite out of you.”
He stared at me. “Take your pills like a good girl and I’ll let you touch.”
My eyebrows shot upwards. “Are you for real?”
He shoved the juice in my direction again. “I’m surprised the pills haven’t disintegrated on your tongue, they’ve been in there long enough.”
Sighing and grabbing the juice, I hastily took a mouthful not even tasting it as I eagerly pulled him forward. It was a tattoo. It was just a shape, no bigger than a ten pence piece, a small blob of what I could only describe as an ink splat inside a . . . chariot. Okay, very strange.
“What is it?”
“I said you could touch, I didn’t say you could interrogate me.” He moved away, his body stiff as he made his way into the bathroom.
I gazed after him, unable to work out his sudden irritability. Shrugging and checking Jake wasn’t looking, I downed the rest of the juice after deciding it was rather nice. I’d always seen it in Leah’s hand and thought it looked bloody revolting, but admitting to myself only after moaning about it, I realised it was yummy.
“Bath’s ready.”
I frowned at Jake’s voice which came loud from the confines of the bathroom. “Eh?”
I heard his heavy sigh before his head popped round the edge of the doorframe. “I said your bath is ready.” Then he disappeared again leaving me gawping at an empty space.
I climbed out of bed, groaning at the sudden thud in my head, and shuffled into the bathroom. I stopped short, lifting a finger as if to say something when I found the shower running and a huge figure stood under the stream of steaming water. More steam rose from the depths of the bath, the foam high and plentiful as bubbles escaped over the edge.
Nothing was real.
Sighing and giving in to it, not sure what else to do, I quickly and stealthily pulled off my underwear and climbed in the tub. The heat grabbed hold of my aching muscles and caressed them causing me to groan in appreciation as I closed my eyes and slid down, the thud in my head overruled by bliss.
“Make that sound again and I’ll be in there with you making sure it’s me that causes you to moan like that.”
My eyes popped open and I glanced around the room, sighing in relief when I realised Jake was still in the shower, still washing as if he hadn’t said anything.
He washed, I lazed, both of us silent and lost in our own thoughts. My stomach twisted again and I screwed up my face, hating the pain that stabbed me in the chest.
“What’s wrong?”
I opened my eyes to find Jake sat on the toilet looking at me, his body still glistening with water and a towel wrapped around his waist. I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to talk right then but when he cocked his head, probing for an answer I swallowed. “I have to go to Seb’s to sort out some stuff. I’m just not looking forward to it.”
He nodded, his gaze softening. “Have you any idea why he would want to take his own life? Apart from the drug addiction, that is?”
I stared at him in disbelief. “What do you know about Seb?”
“Not a lot, just stuff I’ve heard on the grapevine about him.” He was almost arrogant, carefree about the information he held about my little brother.
“Don’t disregard his life like it was nothing, Jake. He was my brother, my little brother who I loved more than anyone in this world. How dare you judge him?”
His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, resting his arms on his thighs. “Do I look like I’m judging him, Isla? Do I look as if I give a damn what Seb did with his life?”
“You arrogant fuck!”
I ga
sped when he shot off the toilet and slammed his knees down beside the bath. Taking my chin in his grip, the gentleness with which he held me was a complete contrast to the fury in his eyes. He leaned towards me. “I know nothing about Seb. I know he was your little brother and he took drugs. I’m trying to fucking help you! I was trying to find out if your grief could be counselled by revenge! I was trying to find out if he owed debts, debts that would come back to you, Isla.”
I licked at my lips, the lump in my throat causing me to wheeze. “Oh.”
He shook his head angrily. “Why do you always think the worst of me? You always did, sat there in that damn cold classroom, your eyes looking at me. You have no idea, no idea what life is really about. The pain of it, the deep dark corners in your soul that feed the very depths of your sanity. You don’t know who I am. You’ve never known. You’ve never wanted to fucking know!”
He’d gone mad. I hadn’t the foggiest about what he was on about.
“You think I didn’t see you, the way you would hide in a book. You live in your head, Isla. You build a wall in there with a little window, making sure no one gets in but you can see out. You can observe all the little things that mean something.”
“Jake, I . . .”
He closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly before he yanked his hand away and stormed out of the bathroom, leaving me, once again, staring after him.
The anger in his expression . . . I’d never witnessed anything like it before. It was a wrath, a hatred that consumed his very soul. He hated life, me, the beat of his heart because any emotion meant he was alive.
I couldn’t stop the rampant thoughts that escalated by the second. What the hell had happened to make him that way? I knew, or rather I guessed, he’d had a troublesome childhood, his behaviour at college had almost verified that fact, but what the hell had happened between then and now to make this man so angry at everything? So angry at me?
JAKE AND MY FATHER were sitting at the kitchen table chatting when I walked in. My footing stuttered. Dad looked up and smiled. “Morning, sweetie.”
“Hey, Dad,” I whispered as I kissed the top of his head. He grabbed my hand, giving it a little squeeze.
Jake stood up, gesturing for me to sit in the chair he had occupied beside my father, and proceeded to make a drink.
“No, it’s okay . . .”
“Sit, Isla.”
My father lowered his face, hiding his smirk, but just to prove them all wrong when I could see their expectation for my argument on their faces, I smiled politely and sat on the chair, smiling appreciatively at Jake when he placed a mug of hot tea in front of me. Both of them regarded me curiously, making me gloat internally. Yeah, up yours.
“I have something to do this morning but I’ll pick you up around eleven, Isla,” Jake said. When I looked at him with a blank expression, he clarified. “To take you to Seb’s.”
“For?”
He frowned. “I thought you needed to go through his things, sort out some stuff.”
“Well, I do, but that doesn’t mean you do.”
He sucked in his lips, a humorous expression on his face. Nodding once, he placed his empty cup in the sink. “I’ll pick you up at eleven, Isla. Make sure you’re ready, I hate waiting. I’m not sure whether you’ve gathered but I don’t hold an ounce of patience.” And with that he shut the door behind him.
“What?” I snapped at my dad when I caught his faint chuckle.
“You’ve met your match there, Isla.” He stood up and placed his own cup in the sink. “I’m a bit upset though, that you didn’t tell me you’re in a relationship.”
“I’m not,” I answered, taking a sip of the tea.
He blinked at me, his face full of confusion. “Oh, Jake said . . .”
“Jake said what?” He flinched when I barked the question at him.
“I must have misheard.”
“I doubt it.” I sighed. “How are you feeling?” I asked, diverting us from the topic of Jake Devine.
“Numb,” he answered simply.
I nodded. “Yeah. Is there anything specific you want me to grab from Seb’s?”
Pain contorted his face, the laughter lines that had once decorated his eyes now resembling horror lines but he smiled forcefully through it, shaking his head in reply. “The vicar is coming out later; I’d appreciate it if you could be there.” I nodded. “And then I’m off to see your mum. Are you going in today?”
“No, I don’t think I’ll get the chance. I start work tomorrow so it’ll probably be after then, around seven.”
“Okay. I’m moving back home today . . .”
“Dad . . .”
“No, Isla. I need to be at home. I can’t not face this. Seb is gone and the way to get my heart through the pain is to tell myself that my only son isn’t haunted by the things that hurt him anymore.”
I nodded, blinking back the tears. I’d managed without them for this long, I could keep going without them. “Okay.”
He kissed my cheek. “See you later. Make sure you’re home for the vicar.”
“I promise.”
He pursed his lips and tipped his head to one side, knowing full well if I said I’d be there that it meant I would be an hour late and flustered when I actually arrived. “You need me to text you a reminder?”
I nodded, grinning sheepishly. “Thank you.”
No one knows you better than your parents.
Jake was due to pick me up at 11 o’clock, so at 10:30 I climbed in my new shiny red car and made my way to Seb’s. However, my stubborn side mocked me when I pulled up in front of the small block of rundown flats that had been my brother’s accommodation for the last few months. The whole area left a lot to be desired and since Seb had moved in I’d begged him to stay at mine until he could fix himself up with something a little more habitable.
Luckily it was a bright day so I could see my way through the creepy enclosed area to the large metal door that served as a communal entrance to the six flats inside. Numerous lowlifes were stood around and all of them turned to consider what I was doing fiddling about with a set of keys in my trembling hands. Trying not to give them any attention I nervously worked my way through the set until I sighed a huge breath when one fit and clicked the lock open. I’d never moved so bloody quick in my life. My feet carried me so fast through the open doorframe as three of the larger men started to make their way towards me.
“Shit, Seb!” I puffed as I slammed the door shut behind me, bracing it for a moment to steady my nerves. “Why the hell did you have to live here? Don’t think about your poor sister when you’re gone, will you? Having to bloody come into this shithole just to make sure you turned your damn heating off.” I rolled my eyes at myself, sure that the place didn’t actually have heating.
Seb had never allowed me to visit his home. Right then I understood why. I was angry at him for lowering himself to live in such shit. Not when I’d offered him a comfy sofa and security. Although he’d never been one to shy away from a fight, I couldn’t imagine living there provided much in the way of comfort.
It was like a BBC documentary as I hesitantly made my way up to the second floor. Used syringes and garbage littered the hallway as the overhead lights either flickered or just didn’t bother to light the dark corners. Strange noises, shouts from various people and babies crying filled the cold corridors, the concrete steps doing nothing to aide my attempt at being stealthy.
Finally finding the fourth flat, I quickly slipped inside. The hallway was dark, and feeling around the wall, I found the light switch and flicked it. Grumbling when nothing happened, I worked my way along, feeling all the way until I found a door and turned the handle.
I stood staring at the small light-flooded space in shock. It was like a parallel universe, as if I’d stepped through a portal that had transported me into a different place. It was tidy and neat and clean. A small couch sat against the back wall, a cream throw draped over it with a couple of cushions placed strategically aga
inst each arm. A tiny coffee table sat to the side, and directly in front of it an old but seemingly okay TV sat on a long unit. He’d hung a few pictures and placed a few knickknacks, nothing classy but still obvious he’d made the effort. Curtains covered the windows and through a small door to the right of the room I could see a small, equally orderly kitchen. Although it was all pretty basic in décor it was obvious my little brother had tried to make a home.
Grief comes at stupid times, and the sight of the small home my brother had made brought mine forward at a ferocity I couldn’t breathe through. My chest heaved so powerfully that I dropped to my knees to fight the force of the overwhelming sorrow.
My forehead hit the floor as a long high pitched sound erupted from me. My lungs refused to function as my ears hummed and my whole body shook. My despair tore me in two and I couldn’t do anything to stop it as I curled up on the floor and let it free, my body rocking back and forth to counteract the pain as long weeping wails broke from me.
I wasn’t sure how long I lay there, my mind shattering as I whispered Seb’s name over and over but I was suddenly vaguely aware of a noise coming from behind another door to the left of the room.
Managing to climb up, my chest heaving with my sobs, I made my way over to the faint scratching. I pressed my ear to the door, listening harder. My eyes grew wide when I realised what was making the noise. Flinging open the door, a small black cat leapt at me, making me scream even though I’d known what it was before I’d set it free.
“Bloody hell Seb!”
The poor scrawny thing stank. Its fur was matted and it was obvious it was full of fleas when I saw a few scabs marking the top of its head. However, the kitty wasn’t proud, it didn’t care if it smelled and had things living on it, as soon as it landed in my arms it started to nuzzle me, probably thanking me after thinking it was gonna see the end of days with a party of lice and a couple of fur balls.
“Hey, sweet thing. You missing your daddy?” I wrestled it around until I could lift it up to look at it properly. “Well, Jesus Christ, you’re more of a Herbert than I am.” I peered at its half an ear and its one eye. “Where the hell did Seb find you, the toxic dump site?”
Surrender Page 9
