Tainted Love, Page 2

For a moment, I’m confused. “What question?”

  He exaggeratedly rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you like people calling you by your full name?”

  I let out a breath and lean back, my eyes darting to the sound of the bell ringing on the door. My boss is back looking gorgeous as ever. Le-sigh. “Oh, that. I’ve never liked my full name. It sounds common. At least Bri sounds more sophisticated. Like cheese.”

  A rumble of laughter echoes, making me jump. “You prefer to be likened to cheese,” Charlie says, sniggering still.

  I fake pout at my boss as he moves to stand behind me. “It’s not just any old cheese. It’s French.”

  Charlie rolls his eyes. I turn my head away to face Freddy, who has a glint in his eyes. “I’m partial to a bit of cheese.”

  Charlie groans and when I glance up at him, he points to the back door. “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

  I nod my head and turn to deal with Freddy again. Immediately, I get up and wander around the counter. “Are you really interested in the crystal lady?”

  Freddy stands tall and inhales, puffing out his chest. “Of course. Every time I come in here, I keep telling myself if she’s still here next week, I’ll buy her, and I never do. She reminds me of my old lady.”

  I glance at the crystal lady, taking in her elegant, heart-shaped face, long eyelashes, and luscious hair that flows for miles, and say, “Wow, she must be beautiful.”

  “She was,” he replies sadly.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not,” he chuckles, shocking the hell out of me. “She was a fucking witch.” He then sighs at himself. “Excuse my language.”

  I giggle before responding. “You’re excused.”

  “It was an arranged marriage, of sorts,” he explains, walking over to the crystal lady, his eyes dancing over her. I follow after him, listening intently. “I loved another woman, but she was from a poor family. My parents said all she was interested in was my money. I didn’t believe them, not until I saw a letter from her agreeing to my parents paying her off to stay away from me. Bitter and hurt, I went along with marrying a woman I didn’t love out of some kind of revenge. It was only after my father died many years later that my mother told me my dad had the letter forged and had blackmailed Bethany. That was her name.”

  This is the first time Freddy has ever opened up like this about his private life. I feel bad for him, but I also have empathy. I, of all people, know what it’s like to feel trapped in something there’s no escape from.

  “That’s awful,” I finally say. “Did you ever try and find her?”

  He shrugs both shoulders. “What was the point? At the time, I had been married over ten years, and a couple of years before that I had heard she was married with twin boys.”

  My shoulders sag for him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Ah, it is what it is,” he replies, taking another step towards the lady.

  “So why do you want to buy something that reminds you of your ex-wife?”

  He turns his head towards me, a slight glint in his eyes. “Because, my dear. Despite the lack of love, there certainly wasn’t a lack in passion, if you know what I mean.” He taps his nose and winks. “She was part Sicilian.”

  “Well, that explains everything,” I respond on a giggle.

  “How much is she?”

  “She’s two hundred and twenty quid, but I’m sure Charlie won’t mind giving it to you for two hundred.”

  He sharply nods his head, decision made. “I’ll take it.” He digs into his wallet, takes out some cash, and starts counting.

  I take that as my cue to walk to the counter and start writing out a receipt for him. Once all done, I look up to him with a smile. “I can deliver it later, if you want?”

  “I can take it …”

  “No, I insist. She’s a lot heavier than she looks.”

  Freddy jokingly shakes his head. “Typical. I’ve only just purchased her, and she’s already causing trouble.”

  I laugh out loud before handing him his receipt. “Thank you for your order, Freddy.”

  He takes the receipt with my hand and kisses the back of it before giving me a wink. “Enchanté.”

  He then turns and heads for the door. “See you later, Freddy.”

  He offers me a wave but doesn’t turn. “I will look forward to it, sweetheart.”

  I hear the ring of the door and watch as he walks out. I’m smiling as I sit down before suddenly realising what’s been on the counter this whole time without me noticing.

  Picking up the foil wrap, I start undoing it and salivate once the smell hits me.

  A bacon sandwich.

  Charlie must have popped out to get me one.

  Quickly gorging on the sandwich, I sit on my little stool wondering…

  How much more could I possible fall in love with my boss?

  I had forgotten to mention that part. I’m in love with Charlie and have been for around three months. I can’t for the life of me understand why as he doesn’t show an ounce of interest in me. Despite all of this, I still fantasise about us being together, regardless of the fact that I belong to another. Guilt constantly flares inside of me whenever I think about Charlie, but my mind still wanders there. No matter how much I attempt to push my feelings for my boss aside, they still taunt and tempt me like a shiny, gold carrot on a stick.

  Chris is my sickness.

  Charlie is my path to redemption.

  As per usual on a typical day at work, I use the massive amount of free time when clients aren’t there to do the bookkeeping. I like it because in those few moments of doing nothing but number crunching, I’m free. I’m free, and I’m numb. I don’t have to worry about Charlie or my life outside of work. In those few precious minutes, I get to lose myself. Not because I’m made to, but because I want to. I don’t belong to anybody or anything. I know that sounds crazy and dumb, but it’s the truth.

  This is the life of Bri Wilkinson.

  “Are you looking for overtime, because I’m not giving you any? You may as well stop now and call it quits.”

  My pen stops midway through jotting a number down from the receipt in my hand. I hadn’t realised I’d been engrossed this long until I glance up to find darkness creeping up upon us. My eyes flit down towards my watch, my eyes widening in shock.

  “Holy fucking shit!”

  It’s after seven.

  “Are you cursing at the fact I’m not paying you extra, or because you’ve realised how late it is?”

  I rub my temple, stressed as hell. I check my phone, but Chris hasn’t called me. That’s so unlike him, not to check up on my whereabouts.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally say, glancing up at Charlie. “I got carried away.”

  His gaze lands on the laptop beside me. “Some say that crunching numbers on one of these is far quicker than how you’re doing it.”

  I almost shiver at the thought. I’m only twenty-three, practically brought up on technology, and yet I seem to repel it. “I guess I’m just old-school.”

  I take that moment to glance up at my boss, taking in his sharp jaw, five o’clock shadow, and eyes so caramel brown, I could get lost in them. Sometimes when I look at him, I can almost see a life other than the one I’m living. A life where there’s no secrets, no violence, no sick, twisted desires living within me like a growing snake. Once just a tiny speck, it’s become a part of me, now coiled into a huge, tight ball.

  “Old-school is sometimes the best.”

  The corner of my mouth rises up. “See, I knew you’d get it.”

  His eyes land on mine, and in that moment I will them to show me something, anything that gives me a glimpse into that soul of his. Anything that will show he may have an ounce of interest in me. But unfortunately, there’s nothing. Zip. Nada. It’s like staring into a void, an endless ocean or sky that just goes on for miles, never willing to reveal to you what’s on the other side.

  “So are you going home?”

  Rememberin
g the crystal lady, I gasp. “No, I can’t. I’m supposed to deliver the crystal lady to Freddy. I promised him I would.”

  Shaking his head, Charlie dangles his car keys in front of me. “I will deliver it.”

  “But…” I start to protest, but Charlie shows me the palm of his hand.

  “I know Freddy will be disappointed it’s me, but at least this way he will have another excuse to visit the shop again… where he might end up purchasing something else.”

  I fake gasp, a huge smile curving my lips. “So that was your dastardly plan all along. How conniving of you.”

  He shrugs one shoulder, exhaling lightly. My eyes naturally wander to his broad chest. For a moment I’m lost, daydreaming about running my hands over his tight pecks. The thought makes me bite my lip with lust.

  “So I ask again. Are you going home?”

  Like a bucket of iced water was poured over my head, I snap my eyes up to meet his. “If I didn’t think differently, I’d say you were trying to get rid of me.”

  Try as he might not to laugh, or even smile, I witness the moment the corner of his mouth twitches. It’s so tiny, some would deem it insignificant, but it was definitely there.

  “The crystal lady is coming with me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Bri.”

  He turns, stalking out of the door, leaving me to chuckle slightly at his indifference. He’s so good at it that it’s almost charming.

  Realising he will want me gone so that he can lock up and deliver the lady as quickly as possible, I put all my papers away, grab my bag, and shout my goodbye before heading out.

  With Summer almost knocking on our doors, it’s still somewhat light out. Twilight this time of year is always my favourite time of the day. London forever busy, filled with people rushing around trying to get home, just seems more pleasant. Some stay in town, taking to the local pubs for a refreshment with their colleagues before setting for home. The tubes and buses are a frickin’ nightmare, though, so I’m lucky to have a car as well as a parking space behind the shop.

  Despite the inconvenience, I always go out the front door and around the shop rather than going through the rear exit as I get the sense Charlie likes his privacy and doesn’t want me to go past his office. It doesn’t bother me. Sometimes it’s nice to get out and breathe some fresh air before getting in my car. That’s if you can call London’s air fresh.

  Getting in my little, rusty, fifteen-year-old Mini, I shut the door before digging out my phone. Still no calls or messages from Chris, which concerns me. I wait until I’m home before I really start to worry. The moment I’m through the door and all I’m met with is silence, I call him. It goes straight to voicemail. I then send him a Facebook message, but notice he hasn’t been online in over three hours.

  “For fuck’s sake, Chris. Where the fuck are you?”

  I can’t stand his level of hypocrisy. If I go radio silent on him for more than five minutes, he’s sending out a search party to find me. But the moment he does it, I’m nagging if I question him.

  Trying to ignore the lingering concern in my stomach, I open the fridge to see if there are any leftovers, finding I’m in luck. Chinese food.

  I reheat the noodles and fetch a cold Bud from the fridge. I switch the TV on and sit at our little dining table, watching an episode of Big Little Liars whilst I eat. When nine turns to ten and I still haven’t heard a thing, I’m about to call his friend, Michael, when speak of the devil, he calls me instead.

  “I was just about to call you. Where the fuck is Chris?”

  “We’re at the Black Mamba.” Phone still clutched in one hand, I place my head in the other. I should have fucking known. “Chris is a little wasted. You might want to get over here and take him home.”

  Annoyed, I ask, “Why can’t you bring him?”

  “We’re a little wasted too.”

  “Of course you are,” I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  “Thanks, Bri.”

  I end the call, immediately grabbing the keys to my car, and leave our penthouse apartment. How far we’ve come in only six months. A year ago, I was living on my own in a tiny studio flat, struggling to pay the rent. Then Chris came along like my white knight, promising to save me. He did, but he’s also destroyed me in equal measure.

  How’s that for irony?

  I arrive at the Black Mamba to a load of drunks spilling out of the door, one almost tripping me. I would kick his drunk arse if it wasn’t for another I have to deal with.

  “Watch it, arsehole!” I seethe through gritted teeth.

  “Sorry, love,” the drunkard offers with a cocky grin. His eyes widen with lust once he locks his eyes on me. He’s about to say something, but I’m too quick, my focus solely on one person and one person only. I have no time to deal with a drunk flirt on top of everything else.

  As I make my way farther in the club, I’m assaulted by Ed Sheeran’s “Shape of You” blaring so loud, I can hardly hear myself think. Thick smoke floats around the bodies of people dancing, or rather jumping, on the expanse of the dance floor. Trying to squint through the fog, I push one body and then another, hands touching me in places they shouldn’t. I slap as many as I can away as I make my way to the VIP lounge. I don’t even need to ask if Chris and his cretins are in there. I already know.

  When I reach the doors leading to the VIP lounge, Trey, the bouncer greets me, immediately getting out of my way so I can climb the stairs.

  “Thanks, Trey.”

  “You’re welcome, Bri. Seems Chris is out of it tonight.”

  I grumble at the thought. “Thanks for telling me.”

  “No sweat,” he shouts out after me as I reach the top.

  I burst through the doors, and what I see assaults my eyes.

  A large, semi-circle sofa houses Kane, Larry, and Andrew on one side. I note there is no Michael to be found, but what makes me want to bleach my eyes and has my stomach instantly filling with nausea is Brandon, the new guy, standing on the other end of the sofa, jeans around his ankles as he fucks a butt naked woman wearing only red high heels. Chris is on the sofa, too, his head tilted back, eyes shut as she bends over sucking his cock. At first, they’re all oblivious to me. All laughing as if this is some big fucking joke.

  “What the fuck is this?!” I shout, all heads turning towards me, apart from Chris. His head is still very much the same as where I found it, resting back like he’s fast asleep. Brandon just gives me an evil smirk, not giving a shit that I’m here, as he carries on fucking the woman from behind. And she carries on letting him. She’s even still sucking on Chris’s cock.

  “Holy fucking shit!” Larry shouts, causing the rest of them to laugh. “Brandon, you’re in for it now.”

  “So is Chris when he fucking wakes up,” Andrew shouts, his head lulling to one side, no doubt due to drugs and alcohol.

  It’s then it dawns on me. Chris hasn’t reacted to my presence at all. If he realised I was here, this bitch would be off him in a second.

  Frowning and my anger at boiling point, I approach the woman hovering over Chris as her head bobs up and down. I grab her hair, pulling her back until she yowls with pain. Chris’s cock is as limp as a Frankfurt sausage. He’s so fucking out of it, he doesn’t even realise this woman’s trying to suck him off.

  “You fucking bitch!” I seethe, furious that she’s taking advantage of him when he’s like this, but equally furious that her bright, slut red lipstick is smudged all over Chris’s dick.

  She’s about to say something, but I don’t even give her a chance to. My knee raises, immediately meeting her face. A crack sounds, followed by blood gushing from her nose. She goes down, face first into the sofa, hitting Chris’s leg on the way. He doesn’t even flinch.

  “Holy fuck, Bri. You’re savage!” Andrew yells, but I fail to acknowledge him, my full attention on Brandon, who despite his sex partner being comatose, is still fucking her.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” I growl, waving my h
and at the woman he’s still fucking. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

  Brandon, picking up his pace, sucks in a breath, closing his eyes before they meet mine. “She went real tight there when you kneed her. Fucking glorious.”

  My face screws up with disgust. “You sick motherfucker.”

  I hear Kane, Larry, and Andrew laughing behind me, and then Kane says, “That’s Brandon for you.”

  It’s like I’ve entered La La Land.

  Brandon, who is the latest addition to Chris’s group, is one of the biggest pricks I’ve ever come across. I’ve told Chris a hundred times already that he isn’t to be trusted, but, apparently, he’s quick on the drug runs and knows how to use his fists when necessary.

  I step closer, and despite the stench of sex hanging in the air, I stand my ground, sneering in Brandon’s direction. He knows I don’t like him, and I believe it’s quickly becoming a mutual feeling.

  “You’re nothing but a low-life, son of a bitch, you know that?”

  Brandon, ignoring me still, quickens his pace, closing his eyes. His head lulls back as his hips thrust into the lifeless bitch bleeding all over the sofa next to where Chris is still completely out of it. Brandon pants, grunting before stilling inside her. I turn my head in disgust, but then movement catches my eye. Brandon slips out of her, quickly discarding the bitches bare body face down on the sofa. He tucks his now semi limp dick back in his jeans, zips them up, and smiles at me like the cat that’s got the cream.

  “No condom,” I observe before smiling sardonically. “I hope you catch something from this skank and your dick drops off.”

  Brandon’s eyes look up in thought before they land back on me. He steps towards me, carefully and calculatingly. “I’m surprised Chris tolerates you, you’re so fucking square. Where did he pick you up from anyway?”

  His brow raises like he knows something. My heart beats rapidly in response, and my mouth becomes dry. I’m a family friend with no parents, who quickly became a member of Chris’s family when I was a teen. That’s what we’ve been telling everyone. That’s the story Chris and I made up and have stuck to.

  Paranoia sets in, and it’s then I feel like an idiot. This arsehole can’t know anything. None of them do. He’s trying to get a reaction from me because he’s suspicious, and now I’m giving him a reason to be.