Chapter 32 Kit
KIT
“You can’t be serious,” a tinny voice whines on the end of the line.
“Did you not read the email I sent you, Lucien?” Damian asks with mock concern.
“We have everything on film since your clever arse thought it was a good idea to have cameras running when you kidnapped your own stepson.” I mean, really, his monologue outlining his diabolical plan was a bit much.
“I want our trust funds doubled, and I want our university tuition paid in full, all by the end of the week. We’ll be in touch with our final terms then.
Oh, and you should probably go ahead and ignore any charges to your credit card for the next few days.
“Remember, if you don’t fall in line, all that pesky camera footage and a record of Kit’s medical examination will be making their way to Scotland Yard courtesy of our solicitor, and that would be very bad for you.”
There’s been no medical examination. I couldn’t face it, but it’s a nice touch from Damian.
Though the threats about the footage and the solicitor are all legitimate, thanks to Jack and Jasper.
Jack managed to hack into Lucien’s other laptops, phone, and tablets this morning while Damian and I were asleep.
There’s enough evidence there to charge him six times over.
Jasper’s dad also happens to be a very successful, very scary judge, so we’ve got our bases covered.
Not that Jasper’s actually mentioned this to his dad, of course.
“That’s blackmail,” the disembodied voice of my ex-stepfather rants.
Damian blinks, trying to figure out why he’s being told the bleeding obvious. “Yes.”
I stifle my laugh, feeding my boyfriend a chocolate-covered strawberry. We’re lounging on the bed in our hotel suite, stark naked and aching all over… in both good and bad ways. But at least the champagne is helping with that.
There’s more incoherent indignation spilling out of Damian’s outstretched phone, and he allows it to continue for as long as it takes for him to finish his strawberry. It’s rude to speak with your mouth full, after all.
“Okay, well that’s all great,” Damian drones once he’s finally swallowed. “But we’ve got to go now. I’ll contact you on Friday. Be ready, I won’t be kept waiting. After that, consider us gone. We don’t want to hear a peep from you again, and we won’t be contacting you either.”
I don’t think Lucien’s paying enough attention to hear the “much” I tag onto the end of Damian’s assurance.
His muffled outrage continues, but it’s soon cut off by Damian’s quick “toodles” before he hangs up.
He chucks his phone to the end of the bed, but doesn’t account for the ridiculously plush mattress, and it bounces right off again, flying through the air until it lands underneath the spider-wardrobe.
“Toodles? Seriously? We’re trying to scare the man into giving us money, not trying to arrange a dogwalker.”
“I was aiming for intimidating, like those mafia movies where you know shits about to go down because the bad guy starts being all nice and polite.”
“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, I think I’ve had too much champagne,” Damian admits, staring at his empty glass accusingly.
“Probably, considering you forgot to tell him to take down the fucking porn channel I’ve been starring in for over a year.”
Damian’s eyes go comically wide. “Oh shit! Wait, should I call him back?”
“Maybe not a good idea,” I laugh, falling back onto his chest and sloshing my drink all over him… Well, there’s an idea for later. “We’ll remind him about it when we make more evil demands on Friday.”
“I don’t think we should have planned world domination while drinking,” Damian considers.
“It wasn’t our smartest idea.”
“Oh well, too late now,” Damian shrugs, taking a gulp of air from his empty glass. “That’s one parent down, one to go. Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you this evening?”
“No, I think I have to do this on my own. Figure out if our relationship is salvageable, you know?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Damian pouts. We’ve been having the same argument for the past hour. “Can I at least wait outside the bar? I really don’t want to leave you alone, not after last night. I mean, we don’t think your mum was involved, but what if we were wrong?”
Damian’s shoulders are tense, the worry in his eyes palpable. And I know how he feels. The thought of being apart from him makes me feel queasy, too.
“I want to ask mum personal questions about your dad. Do you think she’ll open up with both of us there?”
“If she can’t, then is the relationship really worth saving in the first place?”
“I guess not,” I sigh, finally conceding. “Fine, you can come too.”
“Yes!”
That agreement sees us perched stiffly on stupidly high, swivelling stools in a swanky West End cocktail bar by nightfall. After a very satisfying shopping spree, of course. Thank you for my new silk shirt and combat trousers, Lucien.
“I don’t know why we had to meet somewhere so public,” I hiss out the corner of my mouth as I watch my mother unfold herself from a taxi outside the window.
Damian snorts disdainfully. “I do.”
Mum walks through the bar like she owns the place, ignoring the server who tries to seat her and heading straight for us. Her face is blank, a perfect mask that shields her from the world… or the world from her, I’ve never quite worked it out.
There’s an empty stool beside us, but she makes no move to take it. Instead, the three of us stare at each other, too scared to make the first move. The moment stretches for an eternity, earning us filthy looks from the partygoers who have to edge around our tense standoff.
Finally, Mum crumbles.
“Oh, my Kit. I’m so sorry, so, so sorry,” she cries, throwing herself at me so forcefully I nearly fall to my death off my towering chair.
Um, okay, this is weird. This isn’t the greeting I was expecting. Maybe she’s been hitting the champagne as hard as Damian…
“Why don’t you take a seat, Leah?” Damian says, looking as shellshocked as I feel. He peels her off me and deposits her on the stool beside him while covertly ordering three bottles of mineral water from the confused bartender.
“Shit, boys, I’m sorry. I said I wouldn’t cry in front of you. But you know, it’s hard. I mean, what a fucking day.”
For lack of something better to say, Damian pats Mum’s arm in sympathy.
“Do you know how many solicitors I know?” she continues, snatching up Damian’s peach daiquiri without so much as a by-your-leave.
“Loads. Every other fucker Lucien introduced me to worked in some form of law. But do you know how many will deal with divorce? None. How is that even possible? I’ve got one decent lead after an entire afternoon on the phone. One!”
There we go. This is the reaction I was prepared for.
“So, you’re definitely leaving Lucien then?” Damian asks, subtly nudging the water towards her.
“Oh, it’s Lucien now, is it?” she asks haughtily.
“Well… yeah,” Damian says like it’s obvious. “He did try to kill us numerous times last night after all.”
Not to mention, we’re about to rinse him. Familial titles are hardly appropriate anymore.
Leah blanches. “Yes, of course. I saw the state of you and Kit when you dropped Lucien home.” Ha! “I know something really awful must have happened to you. I’d just hoped…”
“You’d hoped what?” I ask cautiously.
“I’d hoped that it wasn’t as bad as it all seemed.” Mum slumps against the bar. “I’d hoped you were overreacting.”
“Overreacting? Are you fucking serious?” Damian seethes. “He filmed your son for over a year and sold him on the internet. Kit, show her your wrists, show her what happened after he cable-tied you to a tree.”
I reach out and grasp Damian’s hand, squeezing it tight until he looks at me. “It’s okay, Damian. Mum doesn’t need to see, and I don’t need to be taking these dressings off in public.”
Damian takes a deep breath and slowly blows it out. “Sorry, I… I mean, what a fucking day, right?” he laughs wearily, echoing mum’s words.
“What a fucking mess,” she sighs, taking a healthy sip of Damian’s cocktail.
“Did you really never suspect anything? There were no signs that he was up to something like this?” It’s the only question I want answered, the only reason I wanted to meet with her this evening.
I anxiously pick at a drinks menu, wondering if this is the moment I lose the relationship I have with my mother forever.
What if she says yes? What if she looked the other way because it benefited the lifestyle she’d grown accustomed to?
“Oh, I knew something was going on,” she sneers.
My stomach drops. “The secrecy, the security on his phone, even the shady people he associated with, it all pointed to something. I just assumed he was having an affair. If I’d had any idea what he was really doing, what sickness he was bringing into our house, I would have gotten us out of there in a heartbeat.
” She reaches out to me but thinks better of it, pulling her hand back at the last moment.
“You have to believe me, Kit. If I knew what he was doing to you, what he was capable of, I’d have taken you away. ”
My eyes prick with tears. It’s as good as I could have hoped for. “Okay,” I say shakily, offering her a tentative smile.
I can see the tension fall away from her.
Mum returns my watery smile. “Okay.” She reaches out again, this time daring to cup my battered cheek.
There’s a warmth from her palm, something that reminds me of a home before mansions and galas and terrible decisions.
God, it makes my heart ache. “I really am sorry, Kit,” she says softly.
“I know,” I whisper back, placing my hand on hers. “I might be quiet for a bit while I work through a few things, but I think we can move past this… if you want?”
“That’s all I ask,” she sniffs. “And more than I probably deserve. Honestly, what mother pushes her child into the path of such a monster?”
“He had us all fooled,” I reassure her, gently moving her hand from my face.
“Yeah, he was a Class A cunt,” Damian adds… helpfully? “So, how much are you going to fuck him over in the divorce?”
Oh, bloody hell. Where did he get another daiquiri? At least he’s banished the morose atmosphere, I suppose. Mum lifts hers (or is that his?) in camaraderie. I quickly order my own. I don’t want to be left out after all.
“Take my word, he’ll have nothing left once I’m finished with him.”
“Here, here,” Damian cries, clinking his glass to hers. “If you need any videos to bribe him with, let me know. We have a stock.”
Mum turns a pale shade of green. “Perhaps not, Damian. I think I’m better off not seeing those. But thank you anyway.”
“No worries. That’s what family is for.”
“You and I won’t technically be family for much longer,” Mum laughs, sipping her drink.
“Don’t say that,” Damian gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. God, I could throttle him right now. And maybe I would, if I could stop my face from smiling so hard. “Besides, you’ll be my mother-in-law soon enough, so this is more of a temporary pause on our family membership.”
“Is that so?” Mum says, her eyes sparkling over her cocktail glass.
“Don’t pretend to be shocked,” Damian snickers. “You saw us in that video.”
“You saw that?!” I shriek. Every pair of eyes in the bar turns my way, and I beg for the earth to swallow me whole. Fuck, my mum watched me lose my virginity. I think I might need to crawl into a hole and die.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, we can pretend I didn’t see anything if it makes you happy?”
“Yes, please,” I say weakly.
“Fine. But just for the record, I think this—” she wriggles her fingers between Damian and me, “—this is a good thing. You’ve been so close for years. At least there’ll be no nasty surprises for either of you later.”
Damian squeezes my thigh, and I can’t help the shy smile that shines just for him. “Thanks, Mum.”
“I’ll let you know when you need to buy a hat,” Damian vows.
I roll my eyes but secretly love the idea that we might make this official one day. Although we’ll need to talk about names. Like hell am I becoming a Hansel.
The three of us finish our drinks with lighter conversation, which runs out rather quickly, given everything. Before long, we’re calling it a night and flagging down a couple of taxis. All at Lucien’s expense, obviously.
“Take care of each other, boys,” Mum says, kissing our cheeks. “And keep in touch if you can.”
“We will,” I promise. “Are you going to be okay? Where are you staying?”
Mum looks at me like I’m a simpleton. “I’m at the house, of course. I had the locks changed this morning. God knows where Lucien is. Hopefully, the sewer.”
With a final parting wave, she steps into her black cab and heads back home. Part of me hopes she’ll sell the house. I won’t be able to step foot in there again, and it would be nice to visit her every so often.
Damian hails another cab and directs the driver to The Lancaster. Once we’re safely buckled in, he leans over to kiss the bruising that mars my cheekbone. “So, are you ready to start the rest of our bankrolled lives?” Damian asks seductively.
I catch our taxi driver’s startled expression. Nosey Parker. I smile mischievously, reaching over to return the favour, taking Damian’s lips in a slow, demanding kiss.
“Lead the way, brother. Lead the way.”