Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
T he rest of the night was actually a lot of fun, with both of us seeming to decide that we had dealt with enough heavy issues.
I put on a pair of deeply enticing flannelette pyjamas, baggy, washed a million times and in a faded shade of pale blue, and took off all my make-up before emerging back into the living room.
It was a far cry from my foxier earlier self, but was more genuinely me.
Aidan took one look, laughed, and said: ‘You’re so hot right now.
Where did you get those PJs? Was it Victoria’s Secret? ’
I threw a pair of balled up fluffy bed socks at him, as they were the only items of clothing in the flat that stood a chance of fitting him. Turned out even they were too small, and the poor man was forced to sleep in just his boxers.
We talked until the early hours, catching up on important topics like our favourite movies, first kisses, childhood pets and whether pineapple is a valid topping for a pizza. It’s so not.
In the end, we both slept in the small room that the twins usually share, in single beds that are barely a foot apart. He was way too long to be comfortable on the sofa, and I assured him that I’d be able to restrain myself from ‘jumping his bones’, as he put it.
We laughed a lot, maybe inspired by the teenaged décor, and it was exactly what I needed.
He was flirtatious as usual, but I never felt at all uncomfortable.
The only physical contact was actually kind of sweet.
He reached out his arm as we were drifting off to sleep, and we held hands for a while.
Considering how anxious I felt when I walked into the apartment, it was quite the turnaround– and all thanks to him.
Instead of spending the night in a hotel, or coming back here alone and being completely freaked out, I ended up falling asleep with a smile on my face, feeling completely safe and relaxed.
I woke up a few minutes ago, and I still have a smile on my face. I roll over onto one side, and look at him. A few stray fingers of sunlight are creeping through the curtains, falling across the gorgeous man lying across from me. It’s like he’s a work of art being lit up in a gallery.
He’s half kicked the covers off, and is naked apart from his black boxers.
While he’s still sleeping, I allow myself the indulgence of taking it all in, the defined muscle of his chest, the broad shoulders, the meaty curve of his thighs.
I blush as I let my eyes roam over his body, feeling slightly indecent but not quite able to stop. He really is something.
‘Like what you see?’ he murmurs, opening one lazy eye and peering at me. I immediately hide beneath the covers, face blazing, while he laughs long and hard. ‘I could feel you looking at me, Sarah Wallis. It’s outrageous, really. I’m not just a piece of meat, you know!’
‘I know! I’m sorry!’ I bleat from beneath the covers. ‘Please go away so I can come out of the covers and not die of shame!’
I hear movement, and he replies: ‘Okay. I’m heading to the bathroom. This is your chance to run.’
The door to the en-suite opens, and I hear the shower switch on.
I try very, very hard not to imagine him in that shower.
Not to picture the water cascading over his shoulders, his hair wet against his skin, his gorgeous backside on full display…
Yeah. I’m failing. I sigh and go to the other bathroom to do the same myself.
I stand beneath the jets, washing my hair and wondering what it would be like if he was in here with me. Wondering what it would be like to touch as well as look. To soap each other up and wash each other clean. To be kissed like I was kissed last night…
‘Stop it,’ I say out loud. ‘You’re a dirty old woman!’
Once I’m done, I dress in jeans and a nice sweater in lovely shades of brown and orange.
It always feels like a good thing to wear in autumn– like camouflage.
I raid the freezer for some bread, toast it up while I make black coffee, and open up a fresh jar of jam.
Laura was making jam the day before I left, and the café was saturated with the delicious aromas of blackberries, plums and sugar.
I’m looking forward to going back, I realise.
Back to Budbury, the place that now feels more like home than anywhere else I’ve ever lived.
Aidan emerges into the room with damp hair, wearing his clothes from last night. He still looks sensational.
I pass him a coffee and some breakfast, and say: ‘I’m sorry I hijacked you. I’m sure you could have been staying with your mum and sister, getting looked after.’
‘Don’t be sorry. I had a great time. What’s your plan today? I’m going to call in at their place in Kensington and get changed. They’ll be waiting to grill me on why I’m doing the walk of shame, and I can’t promise to keep it all a secret once they start waterboarding me…’
I raise my eyebrows, while sipping my drink. ‘There’s nothing to tell, is there? It was just a performance for my family. It was all fake.’
‘If you say so,’ he answers, staring into my eyes. Damn him. He knows exactly what effect he has on me, and he enjoys it. I turn away, suddenly having an extreme need to wash the plate I just used.
‘I’m going to pop in and see my sister for an hour or so, then head back down to Dorset. Thank you. For last night. All of it.’
I sense him standing behind me, close enough that I could lean back and nestle into him. He smooths my hair away from my neck and drops a single kiss on the side of my cheek. ‘You’re welcome.’
Yikes. Every time this man touches me, I melt. His fingers, his lips, the slightest contact and I lose all brain function. It’s very unsettling, and also really quite wonderful.
I grab my bag and recheck all of the window locks before we leave.
The low buzz of the alarm activating sounds out as I close the door behind me.
I have no idea when I will be back here.
I really can’t imagine staying in the place alone ever again.
I have fairly regular meetings in London for work, but moving forward I guess I’ll book a hotel, or crash at my sister’s.
I should probably just put the flat on the market, and say goodbye to that part of my life.
It’s a big decision, though, throwing all my eggs into the Budbury basket, and not one I’m quite ready to make yet.
My car is in the underground car park, and Aidan insists on walking me there.
I’m actually quite pleased, because it’s a bit creepy.
I never liked it, even before any of the other stuff happened.
You can’t write the books I write and feel comfortable in a secluded subterranean car dungeon, even if there are cameras.
I’m offering to drop him off at his mum’s when I first feel it– the sense that I am being watched. I trail off in the middle of a sentence. I’m holding my car keys so tightly they dig into the skin of my palm. My eyes range around the place, but my body remains still.
‘What is it?’ he asks, his voice quiet, one hand on my shoulder.
‘I think… No. I’m being silly.’
‘You’re not being silly. Come on. Trust your instincts.’
I look around some more, and then spot a single red rose, the stem tucked beneath my windscreen wipers.
It would be pretty if not for the fact that it is desiccated and dead.
I suck in a hiss of breath. He’s been here.
He knew I was at the party and he knew I’d stay in the flat, and he knew I’d come down to the garage.
What he didn’t know, of course, was that I’d have company.
I wonder if he’s still here? Is he lurking, watching, waiting to enjoy the sick satisfaction of seeing me react?
Does he want to witness me falling to pieces, see my face go pale, smirk at my fear?
I think the answer to all of that is yes.
I’ve always had that strange feeling when I’ve felt him nearby, a kind of tingling sensation.
Previously I’ve always talked myself out of it, but Aidan is right. I need to trust my instincts.
‘You think he’s here?’ Aidan asks, following my gaze from the rose to the places he could be.
The stairwell, the door to the emergency exits, the ramp that leads out to the road.
The other parked cars. I know there’s a black spot in the CCTV in the corner to the side of the stairs, where the cameras are focused on the door instead.
I made it my business to ask a few questions once it all happened.
If I know that, then there is a chance that he could know that.
I nod at Aidan and his face changes. It’s subtle, but his lips clamp together, his eyes darken, and he looks around us in the way that an animal would look for its prey.
I remember what he said about wanting to beat the crap out of the guy who messed with his sister, and see how protective he is.
I could learn to love that about him, but right now I think I need to learn how to protect myself.
I am sick of this. Sick of living my life sneaking around, always anxious, always second-guessing myself.
Sick of being scared of shadows. Sick of freezing when I should be fighting. Sick of him .
I place my hand on Aidan’s chest, over his thudding heart, and smile up at him. ‘Stay here, okay? I know you’ve got my back, but I don’t want you dragged into this. Satisfying as it might be to see his smug face smushed in by my big strong hero, that’s not the right way to go.’
I see him struggle with the idea, but eventually respect my wishes and nod. ‘All right. For now. But I’d feel better if you didn’t leave my sight, and just shout if you want me to come and smush him for you.’
I stand on tiptoes and kiss him lightly on the cheek. ‘That’s very sweet, but I know you’re just after those man points.’
‘Damn right. I’m almost there for the lawn mower.’
Our eyes meet, and for a moment the rest of the world and all its bullshit simply fade away. That moment gives me the strength to move.
I stride confidently and quickly towards the dark corner beside the stairs, realising that I’m going to look like an absolute idiot if there’s nobody there.
I am scared, but I’m also fizzing with anger.
Something about this whole scenario has suddenly changed for me.
Maybe it’s Aidan. Maybe it’s Budbury. But for some reason, I find that I can move, I can push past the paralysis.
‘Scott Jones!’ I say loudly. ‘I know you’re there, you creepy little man! Come out and face me!’
I know Aidan is a matter of metres away, leaning against my car, alert and ready to intervene.
That is reassuring, but somehow, I don’t think it will come to that.
Scott Jones is a creepy little man. Everything about him was a lie, and he gets his kicks from messing with women’s minds.
That makes him a failure and so much weaker than I’ve ever realised.
How sad must he be to live like this? He has a wife, children, a job, but he needs to do this to feel good about himself?
It’s pathetic, but for some reason I’ve never seen it like that before.
He takes a step from the shadows, and for a moment as I see his face, shielded beneath a baseball cap, the fear threatens to overwhelm me.
The snarl on his lips, the cruelty in his eyes– it all makes me remember that day in the coffee shop when I finished it, and the way he grabbed my arm so viciously.
No, I tell myself sternly. You will not freeze and you will not flee. This time, you will fight.
I throw the dead rose in his face, and he swerves to dodge it. ‘No more,’ I say firmly. ‘This ends now.’
‘Or what?’ he asks, taking a stride towards me. ‘You’ll get your pretty toy boy to rough me up? I’d love to get that on film. When did you start cradle-snatching anyway?’
‘Since the men my own age turned out to be spineless arseholes who can’t take no for an answer.
I’m not here to debate with you, Scott, and I don’t think you’re in a position to lecture me on my relationships.
I just wanted to tell you, face to face, that this is over.
I’m taking everything to the police. I have records of it all, and as we speak, my friend in the Met is logging a case file. ’
None of this is true, but it could be. It should be.
‘I’ve done nothing illegal,’ he says, looking infuriatingly smug. I really would quite like to smush him myself, but perhaps Aidan’s dad had the more sensible idea. There is more than one way to skin a Scott.
‘That’s debatable. But it’s for them to sort out.
I’m told there’s at least enough for a restraining order and for the police to visit you at home.
Plus, you know, given my profile and all, a court case might attract some media attention.
That would be embarrassing for me, but I’d survive.
For you, I suspect it might be a lot worse.
Do you really want your daughters to know what kind of man you are?
Your boss? You might even lose your job… ’
‘Are you threatening me?’ he hisses. He’s trying to look tough, but I can see him pale slightly. He’s not used to this version of me. Neither am I.
‘Yes, I am,’ I reply simply. ‘Now I’m going to leave, and I’m never going to see you or hear from you ever again. Goodbye, Scott.’
I turn and walk away, shaking inside but maintaining the illusion of strength.
Bloody hell, that felt both terrifying and awesomely good.
And actually, now I think about it all, I will speak to the police, or at least to my investigator’s contact there.
Even if it doesn’t result in legal action, they need to know about it.
They need to know so they can keep an eye on him.
I might not be the first woman he’s done this to, but I’d love it if I was the last.
I reach Aidan and his eyes flicker over me, like he’s inspecting me for damage. Adrenalin is zinging through my body, and I suddenly feel light-headed. I’ve just faced up to something that usually breaks me, and I have lived to tell the tale.
I nod at him, and say: ‘I’m fine. All good. But can you drive? I might need to throw up sometime very soon…’
He hugs me and kisses the top of my head. ‘Sure thing,’ he says softly. ‘Anything you need, warrior princess.’
Warrior princess. I like the sound of that.