Wicked Game

by Michelle Betham

  I lie there; I close my eyes and I concentrate only on my breathing. It’s still shallow and ragged, my throat tight, but then I feel him touch it; feel his fingers lightly brush my neck, and just like he did that night, it’s like he sets my breath free. The tightness disappears, my breathing slows down, I’m good.

  “I told you you’d want me, too,” he murmurs, his lips skimming my skin as he speaks.

  I open my eyes and sit up, I look at him. I want to tell him he’s wrong, I don’t want him, but that’s a lie. I want him, I just don’t know why, I don’t want to want him.

  “We’ve separated. Noah and me. Temporarily.”

  And I don’t know why I’m telling him this, it’s none of his business … no. It’s very much his business.

  He stands up, holds out his hand and pulls me up with him. “Do you have any whisky?”

  I nod, jerking my head towards the kitchen, and he smiles. I wish he hadn’t. I wish it didn’t make him seem ordinary. He isn’t, ordinary.

  “I’ll get us some drinks.”

  I watch him head into the kitchen, and I don’t move for a second or two. There’s a small part of me that’s unsure about leaving him here, in my home, alone, even if it’s just for the shortest of time. But I need a minute to get myself together, and I quickly run upstairs, pull on some denim shorts, tie my hair up. And when I get back downstairs he’s in the living room, standing by the window, looking out across the road.

  “Jenna lives over there.”

  He doesn’t phrase that as a question and it sends a small shiver racing up my spine. He knows too much. I’ve given him too much, I’ve crossed over that line and it scares me that coming back from that – it might not be possible.

  “I like having my best friend close.”

  He leaves a beat or two before he turns around to face me. “Is that where Noah’s staying?”

  “You assume he isn’t staying here?”

  “You said you’d separated so, yes, I’m assuming he’s living elsewhere, for the moment.”

  I say nothing, I just pick up my drink and take a sip as I sit down on the couch, curling my legs up underneath me. “We shouldn’t have done that.”

  He remains standing, and that doesn’t surprise me. It gives him a certain power over me, if he remains standing. “It was always going to happen.”

  “I hate your arrogance.”

  He smiles slightly, perching himself on the arm of the chair opposite me. “You and Noah – what caused you to separate?”

  “He told me the truth, or what I’m assuming is the truth because, right now, I don’t know what to believe. He told me he’d slept with someone else. Told me that he’d wanted to try and ease his own guilt by watching me have sex with another man … but you know all this. You knew before me …” I break off, drop my head, and I shake it. I laugh, because I can’t actually believe what I’m saying. And then I raise my gaze and my eyes once more meet his. “It doesn’t sit right with me, the way you just offered to do what Noah wanted you to do without questioning it.”

  “How do you know I didn’t question it? You weren’t there. “

  He raises his eyebrows and now I really do regret what I did. I regret letting him back inside me, letting him touch me like that. And I hate that I enjoyed every wrong and twisted second of it.

  “He needed my help, I gave it to him.”

  “You didn’t think it was weird, or – you didn’t think it was wrong, that Noah wanted you to sleep with me purely to ease his own guilt?”

  “Again, Kari, it wasn’t my place to judge the man, or his actions.”

  “How fucking noble of you.”

  “We all need to escape sometimes …”

  “He wasn’t escaping, Joe. He was looking for a way out … Why do you do it, huh? Why do you host those parties? What fascinates you so much about that world that you have to put yourself front and centre of it?”

  “The kind of life I lead – my work – it makes that need to escape a necessity, sometimes. That’s why I host those parties.”

  I stare at him, saying nothing, I just look at him, try to read his face, but he gives nothing away. “Am I the first woman you’ve stalked? Or have there been others? Do you ruthlessly track all your conquests the way you’ve done me?”

  He finally breaks the stare, dropping his head and laughing quietly, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, Kari, I don’t.” He looks up, smiling slightly, his hand still on the back of his neck. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever felt any connection with.”

  “I should be flattered, then. Right?”

  His smile widens a little. “I understand how hard it must be for you to get your head around this, the situation, it’s complicated. But you and Noah aren’t alone. There are many others out there who want to indulge in fantasies, make them real …”

  “Except, ours wasn’t really a fantasy, was it? In the end. It was a set-up; manipulated so my husband could feel better about the fact he’d screwed someone else, so yeah, it’s complicated. And no, I doubt we are alone, so I guess you’re doing the world a favour, huh? In between business deals and power lunches you’re helping to provide a service to all those with twisted sex fantasies.”

  He doesn’t respond to my outburst, he remains silent, but his eyes – they burn into mine with a quiet yet fierce intensity, pulling me in, I can already feel any control I may have had left slipping away. He’s taking it all.

  “I never asked for this, Kari. I never asked for these feelings, I never wanted them. I walk away, that’s what I do. I give people what they want, and I walk away. I go back to my life and I live it. Until the next time I need to escape.”

  “But you didn’t walk away this time.”

  He holds my gaze for a few, long beats. “No. I didn’t.”

  I feel the room start to spin. I’m suddenly light-headed, a little bit scared, I’m definitely confused. “He slept with someone else,” I whisper, and as tears start streaming down my face all I can see is Noah, and my heart breaks all over again, I can’t process this. I can’t believe where we are; that we’ve done what we did, it’s so cruel. “I loved him, so much …”

  I can’t believe I’m crying, and I hurriedly wipe my eyes with my shirt sleeve, take a long, deep breath and down a mouthful of whisky. It hits the spot instantly, warming my belly, but it doesn’t take away the pain.

  “He started this. He brought you into our lives.”

  Joe remains silent, he just watches me. Listens.

  “He did this to us, and I don’t know if I can forgive him …” I trail off, because this has nothing to do with Joe, and then I realise, again, that it has everything to do with him. “I don’t know what to do.”

  His eyes lock on mine, and I feel nothing and everything, it’s crazy.

  “Don’t do anything.”

  I frown slightly, fiddling nervously with the hem of my denim shorts. “I have to do something.”

  He drops his head for a second, three beats exactly, I count them, and then he raises it and his eyes are back on mine. “You might think I’m this arrogant, overly self-assured man with too much money and an ability to manipulate any situation he wants to, but that isn’t me. It isn’t.”

  I watch him as he talks, watch the way his hand grips the glass he’s holding; the way his expression remains stoic, but there’s something in his eyes … I don’t know …

  “I hide behind that man a lot, because underneath it all I’m scared, Kari.”

  My frown deepens, and I don’t know whether his words are making me nervous or making me fear him less. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who gets scared.”

  “You don’t know the kind of man I really am.”

  We both allow a few more beats to go by, let the silence give us time, to think. Time to get our heads around what’s really going on here, but I doubt either of us will be able to do that. Because I don’t think either of us know.

  “I hide behind that man because I’m lonely
. When I first set up Millar Readman it was exciting. Every day was different, I didn’t have time to draw breath I was so busy. I built that company up from the ground, and I worked damn hard to make it what it is today, but it’s there now. I’ve done it. It’s up and running and it does that without the need for me. I have no purpose anymore.”

  “Are you looking for sympathy?”

  He keeps his gaze steady, his expression bordering on impassive. “No. Never. I just want you to understand that the man you think I am – the man I’ve portrayed myself as, he isn’t real. He’s a version of me that I thought I needed, to be able to cope with the man I actually am …” He drops his head again, and he laughs, but it’s a laugh tinged with nerves, and I watch as his fingers tighten further around his glass. “I’m not making much sense here, am I?”

  He isn’t, but I don’t say that. I don’t say anything. I just watch his body language because that’s telling me so much more than his words are trying to.

  “Maybe this is my wake-up call, you know?”

  As he says that he slowly raises his gaze, his eyes once more locking on mine.

  “There was something I had to do. I did it. And now – now I should move on, but …” He stops, drops his head, and I see his shoulders sag – in defeat? Or relief? I don’t know what’s happening here. He’s confusing me.

  I frown again, because he really isn’t making any sense now. “Something you had to do …?”

  He looks at me, and he smiles, and I don’t know what to feel. What to think. What to do.

  “I think it’s time I laid that man to rest now. He’s served his purpose.”

  I put down my drink, clasp my hands together in my lap and I continue to watch him, watching me.

  “I don’t need to be him anymore.”

  “Why did you really need to be him in the first place, Joe?”

  He hears my question, but he doesn’t answer it. Maybe he already has, I really don’t know.

  “You said, it had to happen. That night, it had to happen … I still don’t know what you mean by that.”

  “It did, have to happen. At the time. In hindsight … Do you believe in fate, Kari?”

  I stare at him, and I think back to that night – back to the night before, when I saw him in the bar. When his eyes met mine and I felt something. When I saw him at the party; when I realised he was going to be the one to sleep with me while Noah watched … I remember that fleeting moment when I’d wondered if fate had played a part, making him the one; putting us in the same place that previous night, I’d wondered. And then I’d refused to give that thought another second of my time, but now …

  “Yes. I believe in fate.”

  But he doesn’t respond to my answer. He just looks at me, and there’s this atmosphere filling the room that I can’t explain, it’s strange. It makes me feel exposed; vulnerable. It scares me.

  “Don’t be scared, Kari.”

  I widen my eyes a little, can he really tell what I’m thinking? What I’m feeling?

  “I know I told you I’m scared too, but, you don’t need to be.”

  “I think I do. I’m scared of everything this is turning out to be, I’m scared of you.”

  He shakes his head, gets up and walks over to the window and I watch as he stares out, his hands in his pockets, his shoulders back.

  “That night, it had to happen, Kari. But this – what’s happening now …”

  He turns around to face me, and I feel my stomach clench, I’m sick with nerves.

  “Everything’s changed.”

  “You’re not making any sense,” I whisper, and I don’t know if I want him to carry on talking or if I want him to leave.

  “I should go,” he says, lowering his gaze, and I get up. I go over to him.

  “You said, it had to happen, Joe. I need to know what that means.”

  He looks back up, and this time his expression is anything but stoic. For the first time since he turned up here, unwelcome and unwanted, he looks sad. Lost. And that confuses the hell out of me.

  “It did, have to happen,” he whispers, reaching out to cup my cheek, his hand warm against my skin. “But this …” He shakes his head, pulls his hand away. “I should go.”

  “No, wait … Joe…!”

  He stops in the doorway, turns back around to face me, and he smiles. Just a small smile, but it’s there. “Goodnight, Kari.”

  I watch him leave, my feet once more seemingly rooted to the spot, I’m unable to move. Until I hear the front door close out in the hall, and I run out there, fling open the door, but he’s gone. He’s out of sight, and I lean back against the wall and close my eyes, grasping at my hair as confused tears start to stream down my face.

  It had to happen, he said …

  It had to happen …

  Sixteen

  I told Kari I came here, to find her, because I wanted her. And that isn’t a lie, not really. I did want her. I do, want her. I want her more than I should, more than I ever intended to. And because of that, I’m losing sight of the real reason I’m here. The job I came here to do – drive a wedge between Noah and Kari Ostberg. Deliberately wreck their marriage. Kill it dead. Have I done that? Maybe.

  It’s still not enough …

  *

  I can sense something’s wrong the second I walk into the office. And when Jenna looks at me that only confirms my suspicions.

  “I thought we were friends, Kari.”

  “We are …”

  “And yet, you didn’t think it important to tell me that Joe Millar is the man you slept with? You didn’t think to tell me, your best friend, your partner in this business – you didn’t think to tell me that.”

  I throw my bag down and lean back against the front of my desk, dragging a hand through my hair. “It’s a mess, Jen.”

  “No shit!”

  “How did you find out?”

  “I put two and two together. The way you are around him; the way Noah reacted when he came face to face with him in the restaurant … I mean, at the time, I didn’t think anything of it, not really, but, then you told me the full story. It didn’t really take a genius to put the pieces together after that.”

  I look at her, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to explain any of this when I don’t understand it myself. After Joe left last night I just sat there, watching TV but taking nothing in because all I could think of was him. What he said, what he didn’t say. The way he looked, his body language, all of it was confusing and unsettling and I spent hours just trying to get my head around it. Trying to make sense out of something that makes no sense at all. I still don’t know why he’s here, not really. I still don’t know what he really wants. But what I do know is, he isn’t the same man he was when he turned up in the club in Newcastle that night. He isn’t the same man who fucked me while my husband watched.

  “Do you want to tell me what’s really going on, Kari?”

  “I can’t, it’s such a long and complicated story, Jen …”

  “He’s our client.”

  “Do you really believe that? Do you really believe all that bullshit he’s spinning us about new offices; all the business he’s supposedly going to put our way? You honestly believe all of that’s true? That he means all of that?”

  She looks slightly wounded by my sudden outburst, but she needs to know the truth. Or what I think is the truth, I know nothing for sure, not anymore.

  “It’s not real, all that crap. Yes, he’s a businessman. Yes, Millar Readman exists, but that isn’t the reason he’s here. His company doesn’t need us, Jen, it doesn’t even need him.”

  She looks confused, and she has every reason to be. “You should’ve told me.” Her voice is barely a whisper, and I just feel so angry that this mess is spreading, not being contained, and with every day that goes by I feel less and less in control.

  “I know, but I thought I could handle it. I thought I could handle him.”

  “What’s really going on, Kari?”

>   “I don’t know. I don’t, that’s the truth. I just know that me and Noah, we’re paying the price for something we should never have done. We should never have gone there … and Joe … he keeps telling me that it had to happen, that night. It had to happen.”

  Jenna looks even more confused, and I’m thinking out loud now, that’s all. Trying to work out what he means, what it means. But I can’t.

  “What had to happen?”

  I lean back against the desk, drag both hands through my hair and I sigh heavily. I wasn’t expecting this, I’m not prepared, for this. “It’s a mess, Jenna. That’s the only thing I know for sure.”

  “Have you slept with him again?”

  I squeeze my eyes tight shut and nod. It’s pointless lying, I’m tired of the lies. “Yes.”

  “Jesus, Kari …”

  She drops her head into her hands, and I open my eyes and look out of the window.

  “My head’s full of him, Jen. He’s leaving no room for anything else, he’s all there is.”

  “What about Noah?”

  “Does he know I’ve slept with Joe, again? No. He doesn’t.”

  “Are you going to tell him?”

  I turn back to look at her. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, like I said, it’s a mess.”

  “And you can’t use that excuse forever.”

  “I know.”

  Neither of us says anything for a few seconds, the silence hanging heavy in the air.

  “What Noah did … I’m not using that to excuse what I did with Joe, there is no excuse. It was wrong, but that man …” I trail off, because I don’t trust myself to keep on talking. “We should never have let him into our lives,” I whisper. “We played a dangerous game, and we lost.”