Chapter 24 #2
Thomas bristled and narrowed his eyes to dangerous slits. “Be carefu –”
“Even when you’ve paid for me.”
“I’ve never –”
“Sure, you have. You might not have paid me money, but you fed me, you put a roof over my head and kept me safe, so yes. Me making you come was a service you were paying for, that’s all you are. A client, and I’m your escort.”
Thomas’s chest inflated, and his shoulders tensed like he was about to shout, but instead he let go of whatever anger was brewing. He slumped, looking tired all of a sudden, then shook his head and turned to leave.
“Where are you going?”
“Out,” Thomas replied over his shoulder. “I’m going out.”
“Fine,” Scott snapped.
Thomas left the room.
Scott held his breath, listening to Thomas trudge away, then the heavy slam of the front door. He glanced down at his hand, clawing at the wooden table, and released his grip.
Shit.
“Wait,” he yelled, scrambling out of his chair. “Wait. Come back. I didn’t mean it!”
He rushed down the corridor and shoved open the front door. It thumped shut as it latched behind him, and he paused, glancing at the door wedge on the ground.
“Thomas!” He hurried down the steps, slipping on the last few and grazing his ankle. “Don’t leave.”
He ran across the first floor, and down the grand staircase, pushing open the double doors just in time to see Thomas driving away.
“Shit.” Scott clutched his hair while watching the gate close.
Thomas had gone.
Scott groaned, making his way back into the mansion where he found himself outside the black door to Thomas’s quarters, squeezing the door wedge until his palm ached.
He’d locked himself out.
“Fuck,” he growled, throwing the wedge.
Scott took the staircase again, ending up in the bedroom Thomas first let him use before bringing him upstairs.
He opened the curtains, then parked his arse on the bed to wait for Thomas to come back.
If he did come back.
That thought infected Scott’s mind.
Thomas had left the mansion, a rarity according to all his staff.
He hadn’t left the place without Scott.
Where would he go?
Who would he seek out?
One name came to him, one head of green hair and one text message.
Russell had warned Thomas it would all blow up in his face and he’d be there for Thomas when it did.
Scott shook his head. “He wouldn’t.”
Jealousy filled his veins like poison. It made him weak, and hot, and too tight. He yanked at his shirt even though he wore a loose one. It itched; it stuck to his skin. Scott had to undo all the buttons to breathe.
Thomas wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t go to Russell.
But he’d wanted Russell.
Scott thought back to the day they were reunited outside of Brixton sat on the bench by the fountain.
He remembered the look of lust on Thomas’s face, the way his eyes tracked Russell as he passed them, the twitch of a fond smile on his lips.
He remembered how Thomas’s expression had folded once he’d gone and how desperately Thomas had sucked on the cigarette that had been in Russell’s mouth.
“Fuck.” Scott bit his lip when it trembled.
He reached into his pocket to get his phone, then clicked on Thomas’s name.
He typed out a word, one word, then stopped, cursing himself.
The word was ‘Don’t.’
Don’t kiss him.
Don’t go stay over at his place.
Don’t fall in love with him.
Don’t be happy.
Scott closed his eyes. Was that what he was asking? For Thomas to choose him even though he wanted someone else, was supposed to be with someone else. It was only ever going to be a month; Scott didn’t want to take Thomas’s chance of happiness away.
Maybe Russell was right for him?
Maybe Scott wasn’t…
He tossed the phone aside and caught his face in his hands, peering through them to watch the gate.
His heart leapt in his chest when a vehicle pulled up, but it was Tim, not Thomas, who opened the gate and parked out the front.
Scott’s phone vibrated on the bed.
He looked down at the screen.
Don’t what?
“Shit.” Scott swallowed. He’d sent the message. That one word.
Scott?
The phone started buzzing, and Scott snatched it from the mattress. He answered but didn’t say anything, and neither did Thomas. The jealousy rolling through him made him listen to the background noise, searching for another person, but there was nothing.
“Don’t what?” Thomas asked.
“Don’t go to him.”
Thomas didn’t say anything.
“Don’t stay over at his place and fall in love with him.” Scott savaged his bottom lip, but it still twitched beneath his teeth. “Don’t choose him over me.”
Thomas sighed. “You’re an idiot.”
“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said in the kitchen –”
“No, not tha – did you really think I drove to Russell’s place?”
“I hurt you. You were angry at me.”
“Scott, I’m…” Thomas huffed. “I’m not angry with you. I know what you said isn’t true.”
Scott clutched the phone. “It’s not. I didn’t mean –”
“I know,” Thomas repeated. “But if I’d stayed in that kitchen, I would’ve used words to hurt you, and you would’ve used them back, and we would’ve kept on like that until you either left or I kicked you out.”
Scott swallowed hard.
“I shouldn’t have looked,” Thomas said softly. “I wanted to help, get this man off your back for good.”
“The look on your face when you found out I didn’t go to Megan’s funeral…”
“You didn’t talk about her much inside, but I knew you loved her.
You wouldn’t have tried to blackmail that politician unless you loved her.
You wouldn’t have made a deal with a psychopath unless you cared about her.
My immediate reaction was shock that you didn’t go to her funeral.
But I do know you, Scott, maybe not all of you, maybe only a tiny part, but I do, and you would’ve had your reasons. ”
“I didn’t go because I was angry at her.
” Scott eased out a breath. “She didn’t last the full eight weeks.
She promised she would, but she didn’t. Then there was nothing.
She knew exactly where I was in Brixton, but she didn’t visit or write or anything.
I was numb when I found out she’d died, and I was going to go to the funeral but… ”
“But?” Thomas whispered.
“It was only seven years before that we’d buried our mother.
Drugs were her weakness too. I held on to Megan’s hand as we watched her be lowered into the ground.
I couldn’t go back there, couldn’t see that grave opened up so they could dump my sister’s body on top of her.
I didn’t go, and I didn’t tell you, and that was not about trust. I didn’t know how to talk about any of it. ”
“You’re talking to me now.”
“I am,” Scott agreed. “People think because I have nice hair, an attractive face, good clothes and a defined body that I’ve got my shit together, but I haven’t. I’m a mess on the inside.”
“I know you are.”
Scott snorted. Thomas’s reply should’ve offended him, but it came as validation.
“From the age of eighteen, my life became about sex, money and the high it gave me to please people. I touched my disgusting art teacher. He’d known me since I was twelve.
He paid me money. I gave it to my mum so that month we wouldn’t have to choose between food and running the heating, and she’d smile at me and that made me feel good.
My teacher introduced me to a few of his friends.
They paid me well. Mum never asked where the money came from.
That’s how it started, and this is where I am now, alone, with an unhealthy relationship with sex and money, trying not to fuck things up with you.
” Scott’s eyes stung. A tear rolled down his face and hooked on his jaw.
“I can’t bear to see you drive away from me again. It really fucking hurts.”
Thomas sucked in a breath. “Listen,” he said. “You listening?”
Scott wiped his cheeks as he did, frowning when he heard an engine start.
“I’m driving back to you, Scott, and we’re going to sit down, and we’re going to have the talk.”
“What talk?”
“The talk you know we’re supposed to have, but we were both too chicken-shit to start.”
Scott spluttered a laugh. “Where are you?”
“With the man-eating deer…”
Scott slumped. “You’re only across the road?”
“Yes,” Thomas confirmed. “I’m only across the road. I wanted to give you some space.”
“I had some space from you, and turns out I’m not a fan.”
Thomas snorted. “I’m heading back right now.”
“Forgive me for going downstairs, standing on the steps and watching the gate like a lost puppy.”
“Already forgiven. Ten minutes.”
Thomas ended the call, and Scott jumped up from the bed, turning towards the door. He stumbled back at the man stood in the doorway wearing Tim’s jacket, and his flat cap.
Warren grinned. “Hello again, Scott.”