CHAPTER 22 #2
He folded his arms. “That's just the thing, Sasha, what exactly is going on? Is it your imagination, paranoia, or is something really happening?”
“DeShaun, after what you just said, I think you're the paranoid one.” I looked at my empty plate. “Look, I'll see you tomorrow night. Come to mine. You can stay over.”
He watched me stand. “Thanks,” he said, sarcastically.
“Goodnight, baby,” I said, then walked out of the restaurant, feeling my short dress ride higher and wondering whether it was the right attire to run off and go meet him in.
I crossed the church car park under the moonlight, the heels of my knee-high boots slicing into the loose stones on the ground.
DeShaun had been right about one thing, I was paranoid. Not just about Drew, but about him as well. I was worried about trusting DeShaun with information which could be relayed, even indeliberately, to Drew or Kyle.
It was why I'd avoided meeting my PI in the hotel again, and why I now wanted to see him alone. And in secret.
“Ms Liu,” Dex said, as I opened the door of his car and sat next to him. “You look incredible.”
“You said you have something for me.”
His eyes were on my legs.
“Dex, please,” I said.
“Sorry, it's your perfume. It's captivating.”
“Dex, focus.” I looked out the passenger window. “I'm worried about being seen by someone.”
“Yes, of course. I have information about Drew.”
“Go on, please.”
He lifted a folder from his dashboard, then opened it. “Here's some of those involved in the protests from day one, Ms Liu.”
I grabbed the folder from him and started to sift through the photos.
“I took these from a mix of social media and company websites where some of them work. If you keep looking, you'll come to concrete links between many of these people and your Drew Heseltine.”
I happened on pictures, some blurry, some sharp, taken in local pubs which showed the same men and Drew, drinking.
“Drew knows them well. He's worked with a couple of them in the past too.”
“But does this prove anything, Dex?”
He was gazing at me.
“Dex?” I snapped.
“I spoke to these men.” He pointed to two men sitting with Dex in several of the pictures. “They like to chat.”
“And?”
“They're involved, deeply, in the protests, but they're not the organisers. And I kinda lost them when I asked once too often about Drew.”
“You lost them?”
“Threw them, I'm afraid. They asked me if I was another reporter snooping.”
Another reporter?
“I denied it, of course. I tried to run my mouth about how you were bringing about the destruction of the club, but they didn't buy it. They cut and ran.”
I felt my body overwhelmed with heat.
“Ms Liu, I can't find a direct link between the organisers of the protests and Drew.”
“You must, Dex. If he's involved-”
“However,” he interrupted, setting a single page on top of the photos, “there's the names of those involved in the bid to take over your club.”
“The consortium,” I said, nodding as I read them quickly. “They're putting more pressure on me every day to accept their bid.”
“Now, I have found links between some of them and the organisers of the protests... And to Drew too.”
“What links?” I demanded. “How close?”
“Social only so far, but I suspect it runs deeper than that. I need more time to look for a financial connection. It won't be easy, Ms Liu.”
“Damn it, Dex, I have to know if he's out to harm my club. We've got a match in two days. I need to get rid of him before then, if he is.”
“Two days will be tight, Ms Liu. Tomorrow's Friday, then it's the weekend.”
I clutched his wrist. “You must, Dex.”
He looked at my fingers on his skin.
I softened my grip.
“Two days?”
“Please,” I said. “For me.”
He exhaled. “I'll do everything I can, Ms Liu.”
“Dex...” I gently stroked his flesh. “Why don't you call me Sasha?”
I stood by the bed in his favourite pink panties, matching stockings and high-heels, listening to the sound of DeShaun snoring. So much for sleepover Fridays.
I needed to get off and slipped away to the bathroom.
Within seconds, my panties were around my ankles, my rear was wrapped around a dildo stuck to the wall and I was bashing my sex relentlessly, as my fantasies turned to someone other than my lover.
The forbidden nature of my thoughts only coursed my blood pumping faster.
How he'd looked at me when I saw him. How he wanted me.
How my body longed for sex which was as rewarding as it was giving.
I couldn't stop myself. I was on an unwavering path to orgasm, my mind convoluted by imaginings of another man's body devouring my own.
My knees weakened.
My anus tightened on the toy.
I almost cried out the name of my ex as I shot ejaculate onto the tiled floor, then slid down the wall to a crumpled mess.
Why couldn't I achieve this with my lover?
I buried my guilt before I returned to the bedroom and climbed in next to DeShaun, hugging onto him and hoping the team got the result they needed tomorrow.
“Did you cum?” he asked suddenly.
I was startled, and unable to come up with a lie quick enough. “Yes, sorry.”
He squeezed my hand. “I don't mind. I love you, babygirl. Forever.”
“I love you too.” I did. I told myself I did.
The local newspaper landed on my doormat on the morning of the Stenhousemuir match.
TAKEOVER CONSPIRACY
ELEMENTS WITHIN WORKING WITH CONSORTIUM
Angus Hamilton had written the front page story.
I hadn't spoken to him, despite his many attempts to make contact.
He claimed sources revealed a shadowy group inside Broxburgh FC, determined to oust me from my position, had made progress when the scandal about my affair broke and I agreed to stay away from match days.
Positions of power had been secured. Unseen changes made.
And, now satisfied with the current management team and recent results on the pitch, the same group agreed with the consortium's final ultimatum that my remaining as chairperson would be impossible.
His final paragraph said a source expected the bid to be accepted within hours and the deal finalised before the end of the season.
It seemed my paranoia had been well founded.
I stood in the same pink panties and stockings I'd slept in, looking up the stairs for DeShaun. “Who'd you tell I was gonna accept the consortium's bid?” I demanded.
He was halfway down the stairs, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What the hell are you talking about?”
I threw the paper at him.
DeShaun caught it, looked at it, then raised his eyebrows.
“Keep reading,” I insisted.
He trudged down the stairs, stopping next to me. “Sasha, I swear to you, I haven't told a soul.”
“Yeah, right. It says the bid's expected to be accepted in a few hours... You were the only person I confided in, DeShaun.”
“Babygirl, I didn't even know you were certain you were gonna sell. This is news to me, I promise.”
I folded my arms across my chest, shielding my nipples.
He reached out to me.
“Don't!” I yelled.
DeShaun froze.
“I let you into my bed. I ended a relationship for you. I forgave you for how you reacted to finding out I was trans-”
“Sasha-”
“Don't interrupt me, DeShaun, I'm not done. Look me in the eye and tell me the truth, who did you tell?”
“Nobody.”
I turned away from him in disgust.
“Sasha, you have to believe me, I haven't breathed a word to anyone.”
I didn't know who I could believe.
“I wouldn't betray you, babygirl. I'm in love with you.”
I pushed past him to the stairs. “Make your own way to the ground,” I snapped. “I've business to deal with-”
“What the hell is it with you, Sasha? You could have the world at your feet and instead of knocking the obstacles out of your way, you're drawing them in... Like you need them, on some fucked-up, psychological level.”
“And my business definitely doesn't concern you,” I said.
“Sasha,” he said quietly.
I ignored him, thudding my feet loudly up the stairs.
“Sasha, don't do this now. Not today. We have a match!”
I let the double doors of my bedroom swing shut behind me.