Chapter 4
K yla Marshall glanced up into the night sky, admiring the vibrant stars twinkling above her. Leaning back against the cool bricks of the pub where she worked, she gave in to her nicotine craving. Grabbing the last cigarette from the battered silver packet in her hand, she grumbled about the cost of the damn things these days.
As soon as she lit it and took the first drag, she tried to breathe out all of her negative thoughts with it. The sweet rush of nicotine surged around her body, tingling through her veins. She dared to think back over her mere thirty years of life. Working in The Phantom Horse , and still being single at this age hadn’t been her plan, but since when did life care about plans?
Staring at the old oak tree on the boundary line between the pub and the mansion behind, Kyla found herself lost in thought. Daydreams of sitting in an oak-lined office with a psychopath offering up his mind for dissection brought a small smile to her lips. Her idealistic dreams of becoming a criminal psychologist seemed like a whole lifetime ago and belonged to someone she no longer knew.
Still, her morbid fascination of serial killers and the inner workings of the mind had never faded and even now she relaxed to murder documentaries and read whatever books she could on anything murder related.
A violent shudder ran through her, bringing her back to the present and leaving goosebumps in its wake. From out of nowhere, a powerful gust of wind whipped around the empty garden, knocking her sideways. Dropping her fag when she used her hands to steady herself against the wall, she frantically looked around for it.
“For fucks sake,” she said, chasing it across the grass.
She grabbed after it like it was a long-lost piece of treasure. Being her last one, she didn’t want to have to traipse into town when her shift finished. She could moan about needing to do that in the morning instead.
Fishing around in her pocket for her lighter, she placed her fag back between her lips and relit it. She’d barely finished inhaling her next hit before a clap of thunder and another strong burst of wind took it from her again.
“Are you freakin’ kiddin’ me?” she yelled, looking up into the vast dark sky.
With the threat of a storm lingering, she felt more than grateful she’d chosen laziness today and driven the two miles to work instead of taking her usual walk. Chasing after her fag again, she plucked it from its place near the hedge lining the boundary of the pub’s land.
“Kyla. Where are you?”
The high-pitched voice of Kyla’s boss, Keith, echoed through the shadowed garden. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and counted to ten.
“Coming,” she shouted back, trying to sound as sweet as possible.
Chewing on her tongue to stop a flow of curse words from spilling out, she threw her ill-fated cigarette over the hedge into the abandoned garden on the other side and stomped back to work. Reminding herself she only had two hours to go until she could go home, she plastered a smile on her face and played nice to the customers.
Several of the regulars were leaning on the bar with empty glasses, bored expressions on their faces. Wondering to herself what the hell Keith was doing and why he couldn’t serve them, she remembered that her boss was nothing but a lazy bastard and expected all of his staff to do everything. Regardless of whether they were legally entitled to breaks or not.
The man disgusted her, but to be fair even that didn’t describe the skin-crawling revulsion that swamped her every time she so much as thought of him. She couldn’t pinpoint anything specific that made her feel that way, it was just the whole package. Short, bald, fat, blackened teeth—the few he had left anyway, and small, piggy eyes, his entire demeanour made her cringe. That and the fact he perved over anything with breasts.
If he’d been a nice guy, she could have excused him for being the same height as her ample chest and not having anywhere else to look at eye level, but he wasn’t. The best word to describe him would be a leech. He only ever employed young, single women.
As Kyla was halfway through pulling a pint for the last thirsty guy, Keith scurried through from the kitchen. Sweat glistened all over his bright red face, and his belly heaved up and down.
“Fire,” he said, gasping for breath.
Kyla’s mouth dropped open and her heart stopped dead. “What? Where?”
He pointed to the back of the pub. “The garden!”
Without a second thought, Kyla ran past him, ignoring the nausea swirling in her stomach as she brushed against him. Bolting outside, she stopped dead when the blazing heat hit her several feet from the hedge. Sure enough, bright orange flames were consuming the ancient oak tree that had sat on the boundary line since before she was born. Charred black pieces of tree floated through the illuminated air. Every passing second only ensured the tree trunk would be nothing but a crispy log.
Dread hit her. It could only have been her fag. So certain it’d been blown out by the wind, she’d thought nothing of tossing it over the hedge.
“I’ve already rung the fire brigade.”
Kyla jumped, not having realised Keith was stood next to her. When his greasy hand clamped around her forearm, she shook her arm free and shuffled backwards. She couldn’t help but shiver when she registered the fact his flesh had touched hers. Thoughts of how much he would have enjoyed those few seconds of skin on skin contact sprung to mind but she pushed them away before she made herself sick.
Glancing around her, it seemed the entire village had now piled into the back garden to watch the slow, miserable death of what had been a rather magnificent tree. The wail of sirens sounded in the distance, surprising her with how fast they’d responded. But as she thought about it, it’d probably taken Keith a good couple of minutes to waddle through from the back room where the phone sat.
“Right, people. Come on, move along please. The fire brigade will need room.” Kyla clapped her hands together and shouted over the low hum of excited chatter. “NOW, please.”
Painfully slow, the crowd began to move out of the garden, congregating on a small patch of grass across the road, outside the village hall. It really said something about village life when the highlight of their year was watching an old tree burning down.
Still, it’d gotten her off work early.
A minute later, the firefighters arrived on site, each man seeming to go on auto pilot with his own job to do in the team chain. Aware of giving them space, Kyla headed back inside the pub to tidy up, lock up, and shut everything down.
As she gave the bar a final wipe down, the rustle of a jacket caught her attention. Seconds later, a young, dark-haired fireman appeared. His bright green eyes were the first thing she noticed. Combined with high cheekbones and tanned skin, he was more than easy on the eye.
“All sorted,” he said. “Unfortunately, there isn’t much left of the tree. Do you know the owners of the land?”
“Kinda,” she said. “Old man Worthington died a couple of years ago. He didn’t have any family except for two nephews he’d not seen since they were toddlers. He left them the estate, but they’ve been travelling ever since, pissing the family fortune up the wall.”
He nodded and pulled a thin smile. “I see. Well, I guess that’s lucky for you then.”
Kyla frowned. “How’s that?”
“Because it was your cigarette that started it.”
Biting back a smirk, Kyla couldn’t help but play with him. He was cute and she loved a bit of flirting. Feigning hurt, she slapped a hand over her chest. “Excuse me? How dare you accuse me. There are plenty of people who smoke around here. What brings you to the conclusion it was me?”
Grinning, he ran his tongue over his lips. “The fact your lighter is hanging out of your back pocket. And your boss said you were out there only minutes before it happened.”
She sauntered back along the bar, wiping the mahogany surface as she eyed the young man, deciding he was in early twenties at the most. Coming closer to her prey, she raised an eyebrow at him as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “Have you been staring at my ass?”
He glanced towards the doorway, checking for his colleagues, looked back at her and smiled. “And what if I have?”
“Well, I think I’d have to ask for your opinion.” She stepped towards him and ran her index finger down his navy-blue jacket. Noticing it was unzipped, she slid her hand under it, surprised at the hard chest beneath his cotton t-shirt. “So what do you think then?”
“It’s lovely,” he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.
Grinning, she turned slightly, placing her ass just in front of his hand hanging by his side. “Why don’t you see if it feels as good as it looks?”
His eyes lit up with hunger, the temptation of such easy meat taking over any rational thought. He pressed his hand to her ass and when he squeezed, a small groan slipped through his lips.
“My boss will kill me if he sees me in here,” he said, almost breathless.
“Really? Taking risks for me already?” She pushed back into his hand and looked back at him over her shoulder. “I like that.”
He slid his hand up to her lower back, slipped his arm around her hips and pulled her against him. “You’re hot, you know that?”
“Hot enough to burn a tree down?”
“And some.”
A man’s voice shouted from outside, sounding very close to the back door. Kyla flickered her eyes towards the open doorway they stood in front of. One glance down the corridor and she knew they’d be caught.
Stepping away from him, she tugged on his jacket for him to follow. He needed no encouragement. A few strides and they were out of direct sight.
“So is my naughty little secret safe with you?” Kyla asked in a voice so sweet, it would rival any angel. Placing both of her hands on his solid torso, she revelled in the feeling of his hard body beneath her palms. She could feel his pecs beneath his thin t-shirt and the temptation of ripping his shirt off was becoming harder to resist by the second.
Backing her up against the bar, he leaned into her ear and whispered, “That depends.”
“On what exactly?”
“If you’re free for a drink or dinner one evening?”
Trailing her fingers down to the waistband of his trousers, Kyla peeked up at him from beneath her lashes and whispered back, “Skip the pleasantries. No point in beating around the bush.” She flashed him a wicked smile. “Not that I have a bush. If you get my meaning,” she said, giving him a cheeky wink.
A pink flush spread over his chiselled cheeks. “What...what time do you get off tonight?”
Kyla leaned into him, inching towards his ear. Gently placing his ear lobe between her teeth, she nibbled on it. “That depends what time you come and get me off.”
The young lad swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Jeeze, lady. You’ll give a man a heart attack.”
“I’d rather give him a hard on.” Kyla moved her hand down and grabbed his crotch, smiling as she felt the bulky handful through his trousers.
“Jesus,” he said, jumping backwards and pushing her away.
“Oh, sweetie. I don’t think you’re man enough for me yet.” She pulled away from him and winked. “I’d eat you for breakfast.”
A deep voice yelled down the corridor, “Matt, get yourself here. We’re going.”
Seemingly dazed, he smiled at her before wandering back to his team. Kyla couldn’t help but grin to herself. At least she’d managed to have some fun this evening.