Chapter Twenty
MOLLIE
L ater that evening, I come to, lying on the sofa. Travis has my feet on his lap, one hand sprawled on my hip. He chews a pen between his teeth, looking down at a piece of paper in his other hand. I don’t move straight away. I just lay still, glad that he’s home in one piece. Watching him.
“Were you dreaming of me, baby?”
I smile, plumping the pillow under my head. “What makes you ask that?”
He doesn’t look up from the paper. “You were making cute little noises. Sounded like you were enjoying your dream.”
I give him a little nudge with my foot. “No.”
“Who were you dreaming about?”
Sitting up, I turn and immediately lay back down, now resting my head on his lap.
Travis lifts his hand for me to snuggle into him, then places his hand back on my hip.
“Not a who. More like a what,” I say on a yawn.
He leans forward, tossing the paper and the pen to the coffee table. “What was it about?” His big hand starts stroking my hair, untucking it from around my neck.
I close my eyes, seeing my dream like a movie in my head. I take a few minutes just to enjoy his soft touch. “There was a house by the sea. The sun was shining and you and I were there. We were walking along the sand barefoot, you holding my hand.”
“Sounds nice.”
“Hmm.” I yawn again, rolling to my back to look up to him .
He keeps stroking my hair, giving me a wink.
Letting my eyes fall back to closed, I continue. “There was a little boy. He must have been a baby, or a toddler, even. He had dark, wavy hair. He was walking by the water, the waves lapping at his small toes.” I smile to myself. “He was so small, but he didn’t need our hands. I’m not sure who he was, but I could feel he was with us. He was just so… happy. In his hand, he was holding a little toy duck.”
When I open my eyes, the face looking back at me, isn’t what I was expecting. There’s a hollowness to his gaze. A gentle darkness brimming. My eyes look between his as though I’ve missed something. I must have. His eyes blaze like torches. His jaw ticks at the same pace as my now racing heart. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” He’s quickly standing, forcing me to roll and move out of the way. He walks to the kitchen, still in my line of sight. His back’s to me as he swings open the fridge, grabbing the milk and tossing it on the side. He goes to close the door, but stalls, reaching down and grabbing a bottle of vodka. With the light from the fridge illuminating his beautiful frame, he throws his head back, taking a disgusting swig. He doesn’t falter. Doesn’t even retch or hiss as he swallows. Then he twists the lid back on the bottle, places it back inside and closes the door. “Brew?” he shouts. He sounds so casual, like he didn’t just panic at the mention of children.
In my dream .
“Yeah. Sure.” I frown, shaking my head, and stare at the blank screen of the television. Where did that come from? We’ve never spoken about marriage or children. Shit, we’ve not even spoken about getting engaged or anything so… permanent. But he told me he could see me in his future. Does he mean here? Just waiting for him to come home every day after he’s been out living it up in his criminal world?
Like fuck. He knows me better than that. No way I’d accept that. No way I’d sacrifice my future to suit anyone else.
You already have.
“Oh, piss off,” I say under my breath. I don’t need my conscience rocking up now. I know I don’t have long until I have to face the music. But that’s then. And this is now. I still have time.
I hear his feet padding towards me. Unable to shake my mood, I reach for the controller and click on the TV. My hand pauses looking down at the paper on the table. Matthew Elliot? It can’t be. “What’s this?” I ask, dropping the controller and checking the name again.
“ That is no—”
“—none of my concern. Yeah. But, Matthew Elliott? As in, my age? Tall? Blonde? Posh boy qualities?”
Travis’ eyebrows raise, then immediately fall into the biggest frown I’ve ever seen grace his features. Damn. I’m seeing that look more and more. Where’s the man that was smiling and laughing this afternoon before he left? “How do you know one of our buyers?”
I scoff. So it is him. “We attended the same Uni. He knows Hen—” I stop myself when Travis lowers the mugs to the table, scowling. “He knows people I used to hang around with. Why are you getting into business with this lot?” Because if I know one thing, Matthew is a class-A wanker. He’ll screw his way to the top, and he does not give two shits about how he gets there, or who he meets along the way.
Travis picks up the paper and pen then slumps back in the sofa. “Leave it.”
I roll my eyes. “You’ve spelt his name wrong.”
He looks at me.
“It’s Elliott with two T’s.”
His gaze holds mine whilst he lowers his pen and writes another ‘T’ on the paper. “Smart arse.”
“You can’t deal with him.” I voice my opinion like it’ll matter.
Travis pinches the bridge of his nose with his finger and thumb. “Why not?”
My eyes widen. Usually so quick to shut me down, he obviously feels bad for walking away when I told him my about my dream. He’s entertaining me. On this occasion, I don’t care. He needs to know Matthew, albeit a world away from the guys at the club, has a reach that they simply do not. “He’s dangerous.”
Travis throws his head back, howling with laughter. One hand comes to his chest as if he can’t breathe. He coughs, composing himself before looking at me. “ I’m dangerous. Your right hook is dangerous. Fuck, Rummy is dangerous. That posh cunt isn’t dangerous, Mollie.”
My face turns down.
“Come on. You can’t be fucking serious?”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” I cross my arms petulantly .
He smiles but mildly shakes his head side to side. “No. You look like you’ve got a fucking rod shoved up your arse.”
I hit him with my right hook, straight on his bicep.
“Ouch! See! Dangerous.” He rubs the area like I actually hurt him. Bastard arms are so fucking huge, I have to give it all I’ve got.
My cheeks puff out. “I mean it, Travis.” I push up from the sofa, but I’m quickly stopped from walking away. I look down at my wrist now in his grasp.
He trails a thumb over the thin layer of skin. “Tell me what I need to know, baby.”
I try to yank my arm free, but it’s pointless. I’m not walking away now. “Don’t try to pacify me. Pick another buyer. Anyone, just not him. Please.”
He checks my expression. “I wish I could, but that’s not up to me, baby.” His voice is flat. Knowing.
My body sags. I’m guessing he saw him today already. Whatever they spoke about or tried to negotiate, I bet Matthew was hard work.
“You’re sure about this?”
I nod.
“Why?” he asks, gently placing the paper and pen down and pulling me to straddle him.
I slip my legs either side of his waist, dragging the sleeves of my jumper over my hands. He isn’t going to like this. But he has to know. “Before seeing him at the wedding, the last time I saw Matthew was at a party before we graduated. He’d bought loads of cocaine as standard and was handing it out to everyone. And I mean everyone. There were kids there—well not kids, just, people younger than me who clearly couldn’t handle what they were taking. It was obvious; he was showing off. Like usual.”
Travis cups my bum with his hands, his thumbs running over the material of my pyjama bottoms. “What happened?”
“What always happened. He took things too far and one of the people he’d been feeding the coke to all night overdosed.” His eyes darken. “Rather than call an ambulance for him, he made sure all the coke was gone first.”
“He flush it?”
I shake my head. “No. Snorted most of it.”
Travis’ eyebrows hit his head.
“But not before he tried things on with me. ”
His hands on me tighten as I knew they would. “What?” I can see his anger smoking away inside him. “Did he hurt you?”
“No,” I reassure him quickly. “But he did threaten me.”
Eyes crazed, lips slightly parted, I fear Travis will explode if I don’t move past my declaration that Matthew was a sleaze and refused to listen when I said no.
I swiftly lift my hands and cup his cheeks, my back straightening, my hips rolling into him. I wait until he focuses on me. “I wouldn’t have let him get away with that.”
We remain still, eyes dancing. Eventually, Travis comes back to me, his rage simmering. “How did he threaten you?”
I chew the inside of my cheek. “He couldn’t have me, so he set out to ruin me. He shoved the coke in my face and threatened to tell the police.”
His anger starts festering again. “That’s not just a fucking threat, Mollie,” he seethes rubbing a hand down his face. “Then what?”
He wants this conversation over with. “He overdosed himself.”
He sneers. “Good.”
“Not good,” I counter.
Travis’ eyes jump to mine.
“The kid died, and everyone else fucked off. It was only me and Henry left.”
“They left?”
“It’s amazing how people save themselves when the shit hits the fan.”
“What did you do?”
I sigh this time. “Made sure all the coke was gone and called an ambulance. We were too late, though.”
“Matthew didn’t deserve your help.” His temples are twitching.
“No. Maybe not. But the other kid did. Henry and I covered it all up.”
“Why?” he asks, his eyes closing.
“Because Matthew was working for my dad at the time. My dad would have ended his whole career before it had even started.”
He looks at me confused. “Why would that have been a bad thing?”
I try to smile, but feel defeated. “Because he threatened to tell everyone that I had something to do with the kid’s death. I knew he would have lied and said I took the coke willingly. My dad would have made me take a blood test, then he would have thrown me out. I would have embarrassed him without doing anything wrong.”
“I thought that’s what you wanted?” His words squeeze past his gritted teeth. He’s seething now.
I frown. “Me leaving had nothing to do with hurting my dad,” I fire at him. “It was about me. At the time, no one would have benefitted from telling the truth.”
“But he got away with it, Mol. That isn’t fucking right.”
I angle his head, forcing him to listen. “It’s done. History. I just moved on.”
“I don’t fucking like this.”
“I can tell.”
He watches a small smile break on my face then looks infuriated.
“I love you.”
“I should have killed him when I had the chance.”
The small smile I had, drops. “No. One day, he’ll get what’s coming to him.” I take a breath about to deliver my killer blow. “If you’re certain you have to deal with him, you’ll need me there next time.”
He goes to stand, but I latch on, refusing to let him go. “Mollie!” His hands go to my hips trying to push me off.
“You’ll need me there as a reminder to him of what he did. If he thinks he can win, he’ll try anything to do just that. He knows people higher than even Tim did.”
Travis slows in his attempts to leave and murder him right now.
I loosen my hold ever so slightly, trying to calm him. “One look at me, and he’ll back down. Eventually.”
“Eventually?”
“He’s a knob. He’ll push all your wrong buttons. But eventually, he’ll concede… if I’m there.”
“He’s already pushed all the wrong buttons.” My eyes jump between his as his fingers flex on me. “You’re not coming with me.”
I’m swiftly removed from his front and he’s grabbing his phone to make a call. He wants to make Matthew a priority just to stake his claim to me. It won’t work. Travis could try every trick in the book, and he’d get nowhere.
Quietly, I make my way to the bedroom. I hear a thud and him sounding agitated, then he says Dean’s name on a loud, trying-to-be-hushed breath. I was right. He’s making his move now .
Pulling out some skinny jeans and a cropped t-shirt from one of the boxes we’ve yet to unpack, I casually dress myself, scraping my hair back into a high ponytail. I drag on my boots and throw on one of Travis’ shirts, tying the ends in a knot.
Then I sit on the end of the bed and wait.