Love on the Menu

by Ellen March

  But one clarifying fact screamed at him, and that was that he loved her. He’d been a stupid, arrogant bastard. He swore that he’d make it up to her … if he could. He continued to rub at his eyes, experiencing the strangest sensation of stinging tears burning to escape. And onwards he drove.

  * * *

  Riley groaned. Her head thumped and she shook herself. The rusty taste of blood invaded her mouth. She wiped her nose, pushing herself up, and saw Mick preoccupied on his mobile. Without thinking, she lunged forward, grabbing him around his head. Anything to stop the car. She had thought she was so miserable that she wanted to die.

  But not now.

  She intended to fight for her life.

  The car skidded to a halt, and Riley pulled the door open and staggered out. Not realizing how dizzy she was, she dropped to her knees, grazing them. She struggled to her feet but fell forward again. Then, from behind, she was slammed to the floor on the grassy bank. Mick’s hand slapped her viciously.

  “Now, bitch, you’re going to get it sooner than you thought.” He pushed up her skirt and knelt between her outstretched legs, tugging at the belt of his trousers. He leaned forward, thrusting against her. “Feel that?”

  Riley spat in his face and received another hard slap across the cheek. She fell limply to the side, unconscious.

  “Bitch!”

  Jago spotted the car ahead and slammed his brakes when he saw the man on top of Riley. A red mist consumed him. He flew from the Jeep. Racing over, he grabbed Mick by the neck, dragging him off her.

  His fist smashed into his face and another in his stomach, winding him. But not for long. Swinging a mammoth punch, Mick hit Jago square on the jaw. He expected him to go down, and the shock on his face was clear when he didn’t. But Jago was beyond pain. His face a mask of fury, he threw punch after punch. Blood spurted and sprayed into the air. Until at last Mick lay still.

  On all fours, Jago leaned over him, gasping. Then he turned to Riley, still lying on the grass. She resembled a crumpled doll, and her face was a mask of blood and bruises.

  Crawling over to her, he touched her forehead. His hand trembled, but she remained deathly still.

  “Please, Riley. Please, honey, be okay!” He lifted her gently to him and rocked her. The tears that had threatened earlier now ran freely down his face.

  “I love you so much, honey,” he whispered brokenly, not even attempting to wipe the tears away. It had been a long time since he’d cried. So long he couldn’t remember.

  But now they came.

  She groaned, moving her head, and her eyes fluttered open, unfocused. She started to struggle. “No!” she screamed.

  “Hush, honey. Hush, it’s okay. I’ve got you now,” he soothed, trying to calm her fears.

  “Jago?” she said in surprise.

  “Yes, it’s me, asshole that I am,” he admitted with a shaky smile, determined that nothing or no one would hurt her again.

  He shot a furious glare at the unconscious man and was filled with disgust. Leaving him there, he carried Riley to his Jeep and laid her carefully inside. Pulling out a roll of baling cord, he returned to Mick and trussed him up like a turkey. Hauling his body into the back of the car, he locked it and tossed the keys on the roof.

  Jago jumped in beside Riley. Worried, he repeatedly glanced across at her.

  She was unusually quiet, and he feared she was badly hurt.

  Driving slowly, he kept flashing shaded looks at her pale face. She didn’t utter a word all the way back to Tom’s. Instead she simply looked straight ahead.

  “Tom’s okay,” he offered, thinking she must be worried about him. “He’s a tough old man.”

  “Good, I’m glad. He didn’t deserve that,” she said, speaking for the first time.

  Riley felt sick, loving his face, loving him. But she knew she couldn’t go through it again. And the vision of him in bed with another woman wouldn’t leave her. It haunted her. She clung to it, knowing what she had to tell him.

  Stopping outside Tom’s cottage, Jago helped her out, hovering anxiously. Normally she’d have found his display of loyalty funny. Now it was plain annoying.

  Playing the loving, caring partner didn’t suit him. She didn’t even question how he’d found her, didn’t care. It was over; they were over.

  When they walked back into the house, Tom beamed. “Glad to see you, lass.” His pale eyes were suspiciously moist.

  “We won’t be staying long. I want to get her home,” Jago said firmly. “We just called in to make sure you were all right.”

  Riley shot him a ragged glance. He was arrogant as ever. Positive that she’d do what he said, whenever he wanted it. But no more.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said with quiet determination. “It’s over between us. You saw to that.”

  “What do you mean?” he sputtered, swallowing uneasily. “Of course you’ll come with me. Don’t start acting stubborn now, Riley.” He brushed a hand nervously through his hair.

  “I mean it, truly. It’ll never work.” Her voice was firm, low, and husky. She wished he’d just accept it. “You’ll forever think badly of me.” She paused briefly and snatched a deep breath. “Something will always come up. You’ll never accept me for who I am. And sorry, Jago, but I’m not willing to change. I can’t because if I do, I’ll lose my identity. I won’t be me anymore.”

  “I don’t want you to change,” he swore. A rush of fear swamped him as he realized he was losing her.

  “Look at what happened last night. In the day it was me you wanted. And the next thing, you were through with me, choosing to believe a text. One I didn’t even know about. And you took that woman to bed!” She vented her anger, finally releasing her pent-up pain. It spewed out in a deluge of miserable wretchedness. “Do you know how that made me feel? Well, do you?” she screamed. “Because it hurt! It hurt so deep you’ll never ever realize. You made me feel cheap, as if what we shared meant nothing to you.”

  “Nothing happened,” he said, although he knew much of what she said was true. “Don’t ever think it meant nothing between us, Riley, because it did. Still does.”

  “The only reason you didn’t have sex with her was because you were too drunk,” she shot back, hitting the nail on the head, ignoring the rest of his words.

  “Can we start over? I promise I’ll change,” he pleaded, unwilling to leave her go. If she wanted him to beg, then he would.

  “What were your words to me? Oh yes, ‘Don’t touch me, get out of my room.’ No, I wasn’t good enough last night, but she was. You replaced me in an instant.” She whispered the words in a broken voice; they snagged in her throat. “And no, Jago, we’re not starting again. I can’t let you put me through this again.”

  When she finally looked up at him, the raw agony blistered from her eyes. “And you know what the worst thing is? I really loved you. I’d have died for you,” she said sadly. “But that wasn’t enough for you, was it? I gave you everything, yet it still wasn’t enough. You couldn’t even give me a moment of your time, couldn’t trust me for a second.”

  Dropping her head onto her arms, she felt the pain lance through her. Screaming at him inside to just leave and let her be.

  He didn’t want her. He had that brunette clinging to him like ivy, soft and suffocating.

  Jago raised his hand then dropped it. “Where will you go?” His voice was steeped in anguish. He couldn’t accept that she was walking out of his life.

  “Back home,” she mumbled, wishing he’d leave before she changed her mind. Didn’t he know he was tearing her apart?

  Tom struggled to his feet. “I think you’d better leave.” He could see how hard it was on her; she was barely keeping herself together. She’d be a sobbing wreck soon.

  He held the door open. Jago paused before walking through, and Tom touched his arm. “You’re an arrogant fool, Jago,” he said. “But I think you know that, don’t you? She’s one of a kind, and you treated her like she was a criminal.
As far as I’m concerned you deserve all you get.”

  Jago merely nodded, his eyes glittering with feverish intensity. Slowly he got into the Jeep, and with one last soulful glance, drove away.

  I love you honey.

  Driving back, he thought of Riley, remembering the day she’d burst in on him, full of exuberance. Cheeky, carefree, and happy. He thought of her now, a shadow of her former self—pale, quiet, and hurting.

  He’d sucked the life out of her.

  He admitted sadly that she was right. She’d given him everything, and he’d selfishly taken it, giving her nothing in return, and still she’d loved him. It was all his fault! He slammed the steering wheel angrily. God, he thought, he’d made a lot of mistakes in his life, but this had to be the worst, ever.

  Pulling into Tyrian, he remained in the Jeep, listening to the silence. No bouncing, dynamic Riley to torment and annoy him. Then he stared bleakly over at the stables. Farley nickered, a sad, haunting whinny, as if he knew. Unable to stand the emptiness of the yard, he slammed the door shut and strode up to the house. He needed a whisky.

  When he reached the door, Emily materialized, anxiously twisting her apron. “Well, did you find her? Is she safe?” she asked worriedly, looking behind him. She expected Riley to follow him like an enthusiastic, loyal puppy. Then she looked back at his stern face. “Where is she, Jago?”

  “She’s not coming back,” he said quietly. Saying the words out loud reinforced the fact that it was over. And all he could envisage was a long, bleak life without her.

  “I see,” she said, shaking her head. “You hurt her badly, Jago. But I think she loved you too much to stay. You’d have ended up destroying her.” Emily turned away and plodded back to the kitchen, dabbing at the tears that ran down her chubby cheeks.

  He watched her go, wondering why everyone else could see what he hadn’t. Was he that blind? Or had he been deliberately looking for ways to hurt her? To keep her at bay, so he wouldn’t have to admit he loved her. That he’d walk through hell for her.

  Grimacing, he realized he was already there. An eternal stomping ground of misery stretched before him.

  His head bowed, he walked slowly into the lounge, looking for leverage. A glass of whisky to numb the agony wrapped around his heart, the agony that shredded it slowly and methodically to pieces.

  He sipped morosely from the crystal glass. The lights of the sun glinted on its facets, sending a kaleidoscope of rainbow colours filtering around the room.

  Eve walked in, a victorious smile pasted on her face. Emily had told her Riley had left. At last she’d managed to get rid of the bitch.

  “So what happened?” she asked conversationally. Sitting on a nearby seat, she crossed her legs. Pulling her skirt up slightly, she revealed was she hoped was a temptingly long length of thigh.

  “Nothing.” Remembering the drugs upstairs, he tapped in a number. “Yes, police please.” Half an hour later he finished explaining and began his wait for them to arrive. He was only too aware that nothing in the country could be worked out quickly. He didn’t care if they’d picked Mick up. He’d left the keys on the roof.

  At the thought of Mick, his fists balled in anger. He still wanted to kill him, but knew he wasn’t worth doing time for. There were other ways of getting what he wanted. Money did talk, he thought glumly.

  “Will she be arrested?” Eve persisted, smiling at him, noticing she had his full attention.

  “Eve, why did you take her mobile?” Jago thought about her reaction and realized that it had all stemmed from her.

  “What d-do you mean?” she stammered, blushing beneath his close scrutiny.

  “I mean why would you go looking at her messages? It had nothing to do with you,” he pressed. “But you never liked her, did you?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t say that. But she was a bit common, wasn’t she?” She smiled up at him expectantly.

  Jago played along. “Yes, she was. I finally realized what she was like, thanks to you.” He was truly seeing her for the first time.

  “I’m glad,” she purred, moving closer.

  He put an arm around her, running a hand over one scrawny breast. She’d been wanting that for an eon, he knew. “So, did you by any chance have anything to do with the needle in the numnah?” He placed a soft kiss at the side of her throat.

  Unable to move, relishing in his touch at long last, she nodded.

  He pinched her nipple. “And the adder?”

  Again she nodded, groaning beneath the sensations he was unravelling.

  “And you went looking for something to get rid of her?” His hand came up and massaged her other breast. Couldn’t miss how it disappeared in his hand whilst Riley’s spilled over, and then some. “You wanted her away from Tyrian, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” she groaned, and unexpectedly found herself free.

  “Get out, Eve. I’ll pay you till the end of the month. You’re sacked.”

  “But I thought ….” Her eyes narrowed in confusion.

  “You didn’t think enough, you evil bitch. Get your scrawny ass out of my sight and don’t come near me or my house again,” he snapped with a raw, cold fury. “Do you understand me?”

  Eve backed away nervously, and clasping her bag, ran from the room.

  Jago watched her leave, unable to believe she was so warped. She’d actually tried to kill Riley. Then he gave a snort of disgust. Eve had tried to destroy her physical body, but he’d succeeded in destroying her soul.

  After draining his glass, he refilled it.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Emily sat in the kitchen, absently dunking her favourite shortbread biscuits. It had been over a month since Riley had left. The police had arrived the following day and taken the drugs away, and the man known as Mick had been arrested. He’d been found locked in the car, gasping for air. Apparently he hadn’t been discovered till the following morning. When they’d cut him free, he’d screamed in pain as the blood rushed through his veins. Divine retribution, she’d thought at the time.

  But Tyrian remained silent.

  Jago had cancelled all bookings and spent his time drowning in bottles of whiskey. Never much of a drinker, he seemed to live for it now. The horses had all been put out to grass, so he had no reason to get up.

  He spent his nights drinking, alone with his melancholic thoughts, and his days in bed, recovering. He was in a constant bad mood. She couldn’t talk to him and was even contemplating handing in her notice; he’d become too difficult and unpredictable. His violence and temper constantly simmered beneath the surface.

  She noticed that he wore the bracelet Riley had bought him, never taking it off. He was constantly rubbing a finger across the inside inscription as if touching it would make it come true.

  She sighed, knowing something had to be done. He couldn’t go on like this. She wondered how Riley was coping. She hadn’t contacted anyone, not even Tom. She’d faded away as if she’d never been. But her legacy was affecting everyone she’d touched.

  Her eyes brightened with a sudden thought. She waddled to the office and rummaged through the papers scattered on the desk until she came across a letter from the agency that had sent Riley. Noting the telephone number, she rang them.

  “We can’t give out personal details,” droned the robotic voice. “It’s against company policy and the data protection act.”

  “I know that, but this is a matter of life and death,” she persisted, only too aware that wasn’t far from the truth. Another month of this and Jago would be dead, his liver pickled. The weight had dropped off him because he refused to eat regular meals. He was a shadow of his former self, lack of use and sustenance wasting his muscular build.

  “Sorry, can’t help,” trilled the stilted reply.

  “Just her address, nothing more,” Emily begged, knowing this was her last chance.

  “Sorry, can’t help, have a nice day.” The receiver went dead.

  “Bugger,” shouted Emily, a firm Methodist who ne
ver swore. The blasphemy only reinforced the strength of her feelings.

  She wandered back into the kitchen, wishing Riley’s second name was something more distinctive than ‘Smith.’ She’d keyed in 1471 to trace the call from her brother, but it came back ‘number withheld.’ How did you trace a person who didn’t want to be found? The frustration ate into her.

  * * *

  Jago woke, his head thumping again. But he welcomed the pain. It was punishment, and it also reinforced what he’d lost. He couldn’t cope without Riley. He needed her like he needed the air to breathe, and without her, he didn’t want to live. If someone had told him how he’d feel and how he’d react when she was gone, he’d have ridiculed them. But now, all he wanted was to drown in his misery.

  He wondered what she was doing. Was she back at the lap-dancing club? Visions flashed before him. Of her enjoying herself, dressed in her indefinable, tacky style, her gutsy laugh reverberating around the room. He could almost see her, taste her.

  Then he was slammed back to reality, a reality he no longer wanted to live in. She wasn’t there. He threw the glass he’d automatically picked up viciously at the wall, finally recognizing that he had to get a grip on himself. He’d been drinking himself stupid for over a month. And now he needed to sort his life out. He wasn’t ready to lie down and die.

  Standing beneath the shower, he flicked it on. Memories of Riley flooded over him, and he turned the water to freezing cold to get his mind off her. He was determined to sober up. He needed to be mentally strong.

  He would accept her decision no longer. He had decided to go to her. She was coming home if he had to kidnap her, he decided with finality. Again he glanced at the bracelet. ‘Forever and a day,’ she’d said. She’d loved him then and he would swear she loved him still.

  And today was going to be that day.