Unlocked: Sweet Demands Trilogy #3

by A. E. Murphy

“We’ll go to a spa in York. I know just the place.”

  “That would actually be really nice,” I mumble, closing my eyes when he kisses the top of my head. “You really do love me, don’t you?”

  “What kind of a question is that?”

  I shrug. “I’m just only now starting to see it. It’s hard to believe that, out of everybody in the world, it’s me you love.”

  His ego pokes it’s head up. “Does it make you feel special?”

  I nod, smiling ever so slightly. “I like your soft side.”

  “My dark side is dormant while you suffer silently with your burdens. But as soon as you’re better…” He spanks the side of my thigh and rolls me onto my back, positioning himself between my slightly parted thighs. “You’re mine to be as rough with as much as I please.”

  “I like dark you,” I admit. “But right now I’m struggling with dark me. So I appreciate your patience and understanding.”

  “You sound like a hold message,” he chuckles, kissing my lips, and this time I kiss him back. Sobering, he strokes my cheek with his thumb and takes in every part of my face with his gentle gaze. “Please tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

  “I wish I knew what to tell you.”

  As promised he does take me away on a quiet and relaxing trip to a beautiful city. We spend two days in a hotel and spa, getting the best massages together, relaxing in a hot tub, making out in a hot tub and then arguing about whether or not he should ruin Josh for doing the same thing. He’s only appeased when I admit I can’t even remember what he looks like.

  Which is the truth.

  Our days are mostly silent. There’s no talking, no sex, no fighting, apart from the bickering over Josh that one time, and most importantly there’s no talk of work or the business.

  Or Thatcher.

  Definitely no talk of Thatcher.

  For two days I get to be myself in a place of relaxation. For two days I don’t have to take any anti-anxiety meds because for two entire days and nights, I just feel like a girl who is in love with a very sweet guy.

  No bullshit, no lies or drama.

  Just us and a spa.

  But that had to end eventually. Of course it did. We had to return to London and my drug test results just had to come back positive for the anti-anxiety tablets I’ve been taking. Luckily I had them on prescription so I don’t lose my job. Unluckily it opens the door to a whole new load of questioning, which forced Lockhart to jump to another conclusion that, during my pain filled haze, I completely overlooked.

  “Are you broken because Frank died?”

  I had an out. I had an excuse. It would hurt him but Frank was no threat, not anymore, so he’d get over it.

  I replied a simple, “Yes. It affected me deeper than I’d like to admit.”

  Which was a complete lie. I didn’t feel a thing when I found out. Not a single thing. Regardless of my current situation, I doubt I’d have felt anything, even if what happened with Thatcher hadn’t happened.

  “Well that explains a lot. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  I shrug, continuing the lie. “I was worried you’d be jealous or upset.”

  “I do believe that how you’ve treated me these past two weeks have hurt me more than you merely grieving over a pervert you once loved would have. I’d have rather been jealous and upset.”

  “I’m sorry.” I tilt my head back and accept his warm, moist lips. “I’ll try harder.”

  “Take the time you need.” He kisses me again and lets me know. “But, my Wild One, I’ll be helping to relight that fire in your eyes the second you give me permission to do so.”

  “I look forward to it.” He doesn’t see me wince or cringe at the thought of having sex with him, or anybody for that matter. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have sex again. Especially not while I’m waiting for my results to come back.

  I don’t want to risk passing anything on. This situation is already embarrassing enough without having to tell him I might have an STD. I wish they’d hurry up. I wish I had the kind of pull Lockhart has.

  “So, you’re both okay?” My mum asks and I can hear the frown in her voice. She’s already told me off multiple times for my behaviour that night. I’m grateful for her change in subject. “I can’t keep up with you.”

  “Stop watching me online and just ask,” I snap. “I’m sick of explaining rumours that aren’t even true! If you don’t hear it from me or the boys, or Sammy, then it’s not true. Okay?”

  “Okay, okay.” She’s a lot calmer now. I’m not. “You haven’t called in days. What am I supposed to think? Maybe we should come and visit?”

  “Definitely not. I live in a frat house. You’d be appalled. I’ll come home soon, okay?”

  “Okay, but it better be soon. Don’t think that I don’t know that you visited for a day and left before I got home!”

  “The line is breaking up,” I say, cracking my voice and rubbing my hand over the speaker before pressing the red button.

  When the call ends and my mum’s face vanishes from my screen, I see a text message from Enri and open it.

  Enri: Lunch?

  Why does everybody want to see me?

  Cerise: Fine, but clear it with your cousin first. I can’t deal with the headaches.

  Enri: So you are together? I’m finding it hard to keep up.

  Cerise: STOP FOLLOWING THE INTERNET

  Enri: Don’t shout at me! You’ll hurt my sensitive little heart.

  I smile and look around my plain room. I think about adding some colour but then remember that Lockhart might still want to move me in with him so what’s the point? Do I still want that?

  Shit… I don’t even know what I want anymore.

  My phone again lights up with another text, this time from Sammy. It confuses me greatly.

  Sammy: Babe… :’(

  Then my phone rings and it’s Lockhart. Speak of the devil.

  “Are you at home?” He asks, sounding tense.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Stay there. Do not leave. Not for anything.”

  “Oooooh kaaaay,” I drag out the words. “What’s going on?”

  He pauses and it makes me even more worried. I’m terrified actually. I’m starting to finally feel more balanced and I’m scared that it won’t last. “That bastard released our sex tape.”

  I don’t feel my fist move until my knuckles hit the tall mirror and it cracks, cutting into my soft skin, sending blood spraying in all directions.

  For the first time in my entire career, I Google myself properly with blood pouring down my fingers and onto my phone.

  “It’s not even a good fucking angle!” I scream, launching my mobile across the room. When it cracks against the wall I pray that it’s broken.

  This is rock bottom. This has to be rock bottom.

  “ERRR!” I hear Kai yell. “CERISE!” His heavy footsteps race to my room and stop at the door. “I just… you were… I got it in a message and I clicked play. I didn’t know.”

  “I’m never leaving this room again,” I sob.

  Please let this be rock bottom.

  What am I going to tell my dad?

  He’ll never look at me the same way again!

  “Cerise, let me in.”

  “Nope. No. Just go away. Don’t come back. Nobody come back.” I’m going to puke. I’m always puking.

  I puke into the waste paper bin, holding it between my thighs. My throat burns and strains as it forces me to bring up my meagre breakfast.

  “My life is a joke. It’s a fucking joke. This is karma for walking out on that concert and letting everyone down.”

  “I can’t hear what you’re saying,” Kai admits, knocking on the door again and rattling the handle.

  “Just go away!”

  I pull the blanket off my bed and drape it over my body and head after putting the puke filled bin to the side. It makes my breath feel warm in my lungs. A little too warm. I start to run out of oxygen and imagine t
hat I’ve been propelled into deep space where I can die in peace.

  Or pieces.

  Whichever.

  “AHHHH!” I hear Dane scream and then his footsteps carry to my door and stop.

  “You’ve seen?” Kai asks him.

  “I didn’t know what it was so I opened it.”

  “Me too. I need eye bleach.”

  “It’s okay, Cerise, honestly. From what I saw you looked really hot.” Dane says stupidly and then cries, “Ouch, what was that for?” I know Kai has hit him. It doesn’t make me feel better.

  “Both of you fuck off,” I mumble under the safety of my blanket. “Everybody fuck off.”

  I didn’t ask for any of this.

  Why is this happening to me?

  What did I do?

  Why did I do it?

  FUCK.

  “Cerise, wild one.” Lockhart tries the handle after an X amount of time. “Open the door. Let me in. Don’t worry, I have a plan to fix this.”

  “Fix this?” I squeak. “Unless you have a time machine, this isn’t going to be fixed!”

  “Open the door.”

  “No.”

  “Cerise…”

  “Go away.” I sniffle, gripping the blanket tighter around me. I think my hand is broken. It’s starting to pulse and throb. It’s stopped bleeding though, I think. “My poor dad.”

  “She has to come out eventually,” I hear Kai say. “She’ll need to pee.”

  “I have a bucket!” I yell back.

  “That’s gross.”

  “Tell that to my vanishing dignity.”

  Dane laughs out loud, Kai sighs and Lockhart bangs on the door again. “Cerise… please. You don’t think this is bad for me too?”

  Is he kidding? I stomp to the door, unlock it and yank it open enough to see him. “You’re a man. A man, in this industry, who has sex like you is a legend! Me! I’ll be called a whore. My parents will never look at me the same way. My sister will be hounded because of my reputation. I want Enri’s balls for this.”

  “Enri did this?” Kai mutters.

  I whip my head around and glare at them both. “Go away. I can’t look at you.”

  Kai yanks Dane away by his collar and Lockhart forces his way into my bedroom.

  He takes one look at my hand and curses under his breath, then he looks at my mirror and curses again. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

  Before he can do that, I break down again like before, sobbing and clinging to him like he’s my only anchor on earth, yet hating him at the same time.

  I feel so fucking violated. AGAIN. And the reality of what is happening now hasn’t even sunk in yet. I’m not sure I can take anymore.

  “I’m so sorry.” He strokes my hair as I cry like a baby. “I’ll fix this. I’ve already got people pulling it.”

  “It’ll never be pulled. Stop giving me false fucking hope.”

  I hate my life. Hate it.

  I grab the bucket and vomit again.

  This has to be rock bottom. It has to.

  Please let this be my rock bottom.

  My shell is empty once more. I want to go home now. I want to go home and live with my parents in safety until the day I die.

  “I need to call Mum and Dad. Or Sammy. She knows. Maybe she can tell them? Before they see it? Oh my god. My dad.” I whisper, sitting back on the floor against the wall. “Why is this happening, Tobias?”

  “Because I didn’t protect you.”

  I don’t argue because I don’t have the energy.

  My body is crippled by the emotional agony these past few weeks have caused and I’m pretty certain it can’t take another blow. I’ve been depressed before. I know when I’m spiralling. I used to hate it but now I welcome it.

  Give them time,” she says to me softly. “They’ll come around.”

  “No they won’t.” I reply and hang up the phone.

  I’ve lost my parents. My reputation. My dignity. My will to live.

  Since yesterday, when I found out about the video, I haven’t left my room. I don’t know how to and Lockhart is trying to get me to speak to a therapist.

  Enri has called me endlessly on my phone with a cracked screen but I’ve been avoiding him. Dane and Kai have avoided me, not knowing what to do or how to act.

  Lockhart has been busy on the phone, trying to get it completely removed. I’ve heard him promising vast sums of money to different magazines to stop them from publishing and to run with something else. By his anger he wasn’t successful.

  I tackled my parents last night. Calling my dad and having to admit that there’s a sex tape of me and Lockhart going viral is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

  He gasped and then hung up the phone. My mum called me back, screamed at me, cried with me and told me she’d never forgive me and how badly I’ve embarrassed her.

  Her words swim around in my head over and over.

  Like I’m not already embarrassed?

  That nurse is going to think I’m a whore.

  Speaking of that nurse.

  My cracked phone screen lights up and my phone vibrates. I tentatively put the phone to my ear. I’ve had a few random calls from publishers asking for me to give my side of the story.

  I hung up.

  I figured this would be the same.

  It’s not; it’s the nurse.

  “Sweet,” she says softly, “Are you there? Are you able to talk?”

  “I’m here. I’m alone.”

  “I’m calling you to discuss your results.”

  Please say dying. Please say dying.

  She continues, “But I can’t do that over the phone. You’ll have to come to the clinic.”

  “That’s not happening,” I mumble. “I’m never leaving my apartment again.”

  “Right,” she responds softly. “I could come to you? It’s not the normal way, but considering the circumstances…”

  “Just please… I need to know. Do I have an STD? Yes or no.”

  She hesitates and I hear her chair squeak in the background. “No, sweet, you’re clean, but you will have to be retested in six months as some do take longer to show than a few days. It’s still ninety-nine-point nine percent accurate though, so I don’t think you have to worry.”

  I wipe my nose on the back of my hand, feeling no relief at her words. “Which means I’m pregnant.”

  “I can’t…”

  “Confirm. I know. That was confirmation enough.”

  “Please come and see me. I can help you.”

  “Nobody can help me,” I whisper and hang up.

  There we go.

  This is rock bottom.

  It has to be rock bottom.

  There’s no rockier bottom than this.

  I turn over and scream into my pillow so loudly Lockhart comes racing into the room, preparing to tackle an attacker.

  “What?” He pants, sounding panicked. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing!” I yell, into my pillow. “Nothing is wrong! Except everything is fucking wrong.” Then I stand, grab my jacket off the side and my scarf.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I need to go out. I need to get out of this fucking apartment.”

  “Let me go with you.”

  “No!” I shout, circling around him to get to the door. “Nobody is coming anywhere with me. Ever. I need fucking space. I need to breathe!”

  “Cerise.”

  “Stop, Lockhart. Stop acting like you’re okay and everything is going to be okay because you can wave money at it. It’s not okay. IT’S NOT OKAY! I’m falling apart at the seams and you’re a fool to stay here and watch.” I pull the scarf up over my face. “Now, I’m sneaking out alone because if you come with me, they’ll know who it is. So back the fuck up.” When I reach the door, I turn to look at him through the fuzzy lining at the top of the wool mask I’ve made. “And please don’t be here when I get back. I’ve just had enough of seeing you.”

  “You’re taking your anger out on
me!”

  “Guys,” Kai says softly. “Cerise. There are like a bunch of reporters camped out there. It’s not wise to go now.”

  “Shut the fuck up! If it wasn’t for you, I never would have been at that stupid party to begin with!”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” He frowns.

  I reply, “Why don’t you tell them, Tobias? Tell them what the terms of his employment were.”

  Lockhart clenches his jaw. I can see he’s hardly restraining himself.

  “What is she talking about?” Kai asks and I don’t have an ounce of feeling or regret towards him or his solemn face right now.

  “In order for your junkie arse to stay in the band, I had to continue fucking him until he said otherwise.” I laugh callously. “You’re the reason I entered into prostitution. How about that?”

  On that note, I turn, open the door and then slam it behind me, only to find a reporter crouching down outside my apartment door with a fucking video recorder in his hand.

  “ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?” I don’t even think about it. I bring my boot clad foot up and push it powerfully into his face. His nose pops and he falls backwards. The door behind me opens and I hear Lockhart curse at the mess I’ve made, so I flip him off over my shoulder as I walk away with slumped shoulders. “I hate this fucking life!”

  “Cerise! Wait!” Lockhart calls but he doesn’t follow. He’s doing damage control with the guy I just assaulted.

  I’m pregnant.

  I’m fucking pregnant.

  When I reach the ground floor I peek around the elevators and realise just how correct Kai was. There are at least fifteen men and women with cameras, chatting as they wait for us to leave.

  I won’t give them the satisfaction.

  I knock on door number 2. An elderly man with shocking white hair and a large humpback opens it and smiles at me.

  “Are you okay?” He asks. “I think you might have the wrong apartment.”

  “I’m actually hoping you’ll let me climb out of your window.”

  He throws his head back and laughs before inviting me inside and offering me a coffee.