My Valentine: Siren #2, Page 3

  I certainly can’t have that.

  I walk for miles and miles in the rain, and my clothes are soaked. The cold water seeps into my skin until it reaches my very bones. As I walk through nothing but mud and trees, my feet are cut by various twigs, and with each cut, my mouth automatically parts as I grunt with pain, which draws unwanted attention to the raw tenderness in my throat. My throat is an all too poignant reminder of what Reid has just done to me.

  I grip my shirt tight to me. The shirt that Reid, in his jealous rage, ripped apart. All the buttons have been pulled off, leaving me no modesty whatsoever.

  I have no clue where I am or where and when these woods will end, but there is only one force driving me forward.

  Retribution.

  I thought mine was over.

  I thought Reid was my ally.

  But, no.

  Then again, I only have myself to blame. I think my subconscious probably picked Reid because he is his father’s son. When I found out, all the jigsaw pieces suddenly fell together, and it all started to make sense.

  I was obsessed with my father.

  I was obsessed with his son.

  Am I still obsessed? I guess so because with each agonising step I take toward the unknown, the only person on my mind is Reid. Not my father, not my family, who betrayed me when I was a child, and not Stuart.

  Stuart.

  Clutching my chest, an ache constricts my heart causing me to stumble. As I almost fall, anger shudders through my body in a trembling rage. Reid did this to me. Reid killed me and took me away from ever having happiness so pure it made my black heart beat the purest of red when I was with Stuart.

  But, of course, Reid knew it was all a lie.

  Could I have given Stuart everything? Could I have given him my all with no recompense, no forethought for the life I used to lead? I was a slut seeking out pain, seeking out pleasure, and seeking out cock. I am not ashamed to admit that, but I was ashamed when I was with Stuart.

  Maybe he and I were never meant to be.

  A part of me thinks that maybe I should move on, seek Stuart out, and allow us to run off into the sunset with each other. Reid thinks he killed me, so he won’t go looking for me anymore.

  But a big part of me—the biggest part—wants revenge for everything Reid has done to me. He not only kept secrets from me, but he was also so enraged by my betrayal that he was willing to kill for it. He was willing to kill me.

  I’m not sure what drives me forward. Sheer force of will pushes my aching feet forward. No one hurts Scarlet and gets away with it. I am a woman scorned. A black widow spider out to hunt its prey. This thought causes the lyrics to “The Devil Within” by Digital Daggers to flow through my mind. Truly, it must have been written for me, and as I sing along internally, I find inspiration and cement my pledge. I will have my revenge, and I have just decided what form it will take. I’m startled from my reverie by a sudden sound. I stand still, listening for more. When I look into the distance, I see what appear to be headlights.

  A road.

  Thank fuck!

  Knowing this pushes me on. Adrenaline now courses through my veins, making me practically jog towards the lights. I step on a twig that snaps and cuts deep into my foot. I scream out, cursing as I fall to the ground. I grab my foot, inspecting it. I can’t see much, but I know I’m bleeding.

  I have to get back up.

  I have to keep going.

  With all the strength I have left, I pull myself up and limp the rest of the way towards the road. It seems to go on forever.

  Finally, I see a clearing in the distance, followed by further lights. I stumble towards the clearing and practically run out into the road. Headlights blind me, causing me to pull my hand up to cover my eyes. Horns blast and tyres screech. I try to scream out, waving the car down, but whoever it is just drives past me. The fucking bastard just drives on.

  When the car disappears out of sight, I squint as the light makes my eyes focus on what’s ahead. All I see is road and trees. As I start to walk forward, I notice a sleeping policeman on the road. I’m pretty sure I know where I am, but I need to get to a junction to be sure.

  As I near the junction, I notice a road I recognise and hope surges through me. I now know just where I can go.

  Hobbling along, I walk the mile or so. It takes me forever to get where I’m going, and the rain certainly hinders my progress. Along the way, I hear the odd car, but try and shield myself as much as possible. I don’t want anyone to see me.

  I don’t need their fucking help.

  As I near the last corner and see the house I am after come into view, exhaustion I have never felt washes over me. I’m limping, and my foot is still bleeding from the cut as I approach the gate. I can feel myself falling into oblivion, but I can’t die.

  I refuse to die.

  With the last bit of strength I have, I reach out toward the security gate and press the buzzer, hoping to God that he’s in.

  As the rain runs down my face in rivulets, I look toward the dark house willing for life to be there. I watch, but my vision is blurring. I try shaking my head, but the more I do, the more my vision clouds.

  The darkness is surrounding me. I feel it taking over, and there is nothing I can do to stop it. As I fall, I swear I notice a light shine in the distance.

  That’s the last thing I see before my world turns black.

  Reid

  As I stumble through the doors back to the bar, I almost trip in my haste to find out who this fucking delight of a woman is. As I approach the bar, Radiohead’s “Creep” is playing, and I notice the familiar skirt, blouse and high heels, but when I look to see who it is sitting there with one leg wrapped around the other, I almost stutter.

  “Dr … Dr Mercy?”

  Fuck me, it is her!

  Her head snaps up to mine, and she offers me a small smile. Akilah places a glass of red wine on the counter for Dr Mercy, and it makes me think back to Scarlet. She always hated red wine. She said it was vile stuff. Once Akilah places the drink down, and Dr Mercy picks it up, Akilah glances my way with a smirk. I know that look. He’s just as taken with her as I am.

  “Hey, Reece. I hope you don’t mind me being here? I know you said—”

  I find my feet, racing towards the bar. “I know what I said,” I interrupt, “but … but … what was that in there?” I point in the direction of the fantasy room and await her answer. I sit right next to her, and something in her eye catches me off guard. “Scarlet?” I ask, forgetting myself.

  She visibly sighs, leaning over to whisper. “Reece, we’ve gone over this countless times. You and I both know I’m not Scarlet. You told me yourself that she’s dead. The sooner you start admitting that to yourself, the sooner you can start to heal. This isn’t good for you.”

  Fuck! This woman’s driving me nuts.

  “But … but what the hell was that?” I ask again, needing the answer. I will never be able to get that image out of my head.

  She is slightly gritting her teeth like she’s trying not to cringe. It’s very slight, but I see it nonetheless. “I don’t normally advertise these things, but I also dabble in therapy for couples.”

  “Sex therapy?” I practically screech.

  She dips her head, shushing me. “Keep your voice down. As I said, I don’t like to advertise that fact. I saw the couple struggling, and I thought you weren’t here. I guess I just wanted to help them out.”

  “Are you a lesbian?”

  She cackles at that. “No. But I do offer women intimate massages in some sessions. I don’t do many of those.”

  “Do you make them come?”

  Fuck, my dick’s getting stiff again. To make it worse, she smirks, causing my cock to jolt against my jeans.

  “Isn’t that always the aim of the game at the end of the day?”

  I gaze upon today’s tawdry, boring ensemble. She’s wearing a frilly white shirt. The matching skirt flows slightly past her knees, doing nothing for those shap
ely legs, which she obviously keeps hidden underneath.

  Where the fuck did this woman come from? How can she look so drab in one sense, but also be the most captivating person I have ever met other than—

  I break off my internal monologue and force myself to focus on the conversation.

  “Do you do these massages for men?”

  Dr Mercy crosses her legs, and I notice the slight rise of her skirt. As if knowing she’s being watched, she attempts to tug it down. It makes me smile.

  “No, I do not offer these massages for men. Is there any chance we can change the subject? I came here to get away from work. Not to talk about it.”

  “So, if I were to bring a woman with me for one of these massages, would you do it in front of me?”

  She sighs, shaking her head with a smile. “You’re not going to let this lie, are you?”

  My eyes widen. “Are you fucking kidding me? I just watched you wank a woman off, and you want me to drop it?”

  She fixes me with her stare. “Okay. Let’s finish this. I only offer these sessions for couples who have been together for a long time and want to stay together, but find there’s something lacking in their sex life. I offer them a chance to reclaim it—that spark they once had. There’s nothing seedy about it at all.”

  The laugh that escapes me doesn’t go unnoticed. She hooks me with those stern, boring brown eyes of hers—the same eyes, which, no matter how boring, still get my dick stiff. I seriously need to fuck this woman. Preferably tonight.

  “My cock seems to think otherwise.”

  I think she’s going to retort, but she simply shakes her head, picks up her wine, and slugs it down in one go. It gives me an idea. An idea that makes my cock strain harder than ever.

  “Here,” I say, taking her glass, “let me buy you a drink. I’ll have one with you.”

  I slide off my stool with my glass in hand and notice the slight nod she gives me. This woman is in so much fucking trouble, and she doesn’t even know it.

  Once I walk around the bar, Akilah emerges from the back, looking down at the glass. He offers a hand. “Want me to sort that out, brother?”

  Clutching at the glass possessively, I shake my head. “No, I got this.” I lean over to whisper. “You didn’t see a thing. Got it?”

  Akilah offers me an amused expression. He places his hands up in surrender. “I don’t see fuck all around here.”

  I nod my head. “Thanks.”

  Immediately afterwards, a crowd of young men and women approach the bar making Akilah busy. The speech I just offered him is unnecessary, but I felt it only right to warn him that I’m up to no good.

  Placing the wine glass in the dishwasher, I discreetly grab the tablet Akilah gave me from my jean’s pocket before grabbing two new clean glasses and placing them on the bar. With my back to Dr Mercy and everybody else, I plonk the tablet in Dr Mercy’s glass before pouring the wine. I wait for it to stop fizzing as I slowly pour my own drink. Once I’m satisfied she won’t notice anything untoward, I pick up the two glasses and head over to Dr Mercy with a smile.

  Yes, I know I’m a cunt, but I’ve been dreaming of driving my cock into this woman since the day I met her. Now, after that little show in there, I’m practically obsessing over it.

  With her glass set in front of her, I offer mine in salute. In about half an hour, the crowds will gather, the music will get louder, and I shall be busy taking my precious little doctor up the stairs to bed with me.

  “Cheers,” I say, happy when I see she’s picking up her glass.

  “Cheers,” she says back. I take a sip of mine, but she doesn’t sip hers.

  Fuck. I need to hurry this along. I’m desperate to get in between those legs she’s fucking hiding from the world.

  “Do you have any crisps?” she asks, looking over at the bar. “I’ve been drinking a little too much too soon and need something to help soak it up a little. I’m used to eating peanuts or crisps with my drinks.”

  I smile at her. If crisps help her to drink faster, then hell fucking yeah, I’ll get her all the crisps she wants. “Wait here. I’ll be just a moment.” I get up, turning to walk to the end of the bar to fetch her those crisps. I search underneath the bar where I find multiple packs of salted Lays. I grab two, throwing them up onto the bar in front of her before peeking up to see her. She smiles brightly.

  “Thanks for that,” she says, ripping open a bag straight away and wasting no time putting one in her mouth.

  “Are you sure you don’t want a sandwich or something?” I ask, amused.

  She shakes her head. “No, I’ll be fine with this. I’m planning on grabbing a takeaway on my way home. This will do for the time being.”

  I take that as my cue to walk back around the bar and sit next to her. When I see her picking up the glass I almost laugh my excitement.

  “Cheers,” she says again, waiting for me to pick my glass up. I’m only too happy to oblige. “Cheers,” I say back, taking a generous gulp. My eyes widen in delight as I watch her practically down half the glass. Man, my Dr Mercy’s a bit of a lush. A very sexy lush.

  “So, how long have you been living in Marbella?” I ask in order to start some sort of conversation. I need to keep her here with me—at least until the drugs start kicking in.

  She makes an attempt to say something but hiccups instead, letting out a little giggle. “Excuse me. That came out without me meaning it to.” She clears her throat, shuffling on the stool. “Erm, about four months, on and off. I travelled back and forth to Glasgow to tie up loose ends for a couple of months before I could really start practicing.”

  I had noticed her certificates on the wall. She’s only very recently graduated from Glasgow University.

  “You’re not married,” I say as more of a statement than a question. She doesn’t wear a ring, and I would think she would be the type to wear a ring.

  She shakes her head. “No, not married.”

  “Significant other?”

  She smiles. “Sort of. It’s complicated.”

  I lift my drink up, taking a swig in the hope that it will encourage her to do the same. She does. “Isn’t it always?”

  “Yes.” She sighs, placing her drink down. “I suppose no one needs to see a shrink to know that relationships aren’t always as cut and dry as they seem.”

  Cocking my head to one side, I’m suddenly curious. With my arms leaning on the bar, I get intimately closer to her. “So, what’s your story? You never know. I may be able to help—from a man’s perspective, of course.”

  She starts laughing. “I thought I was the one offering help?”

  Taking one of her crisps, I pop it into my mouth. “You may be my therapist, but you’re still a person.”

  She lightly trails her delicate fingers up and down the stem of her wine glass. My dick comes to life all over again. “I know. It’s not a great thing. Just commitment issues.”

  Remembering I’m supposed to be serious here, I answer, “On your side or his?”

  “His,” she responds.

  “He doesn’t want to commit?”

  “Something like that.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe he isn’t the right one for you. If two people want different things, then perhaps they’re just not meant to be together.”

  Glancing my way, she smiles. “You should charge by the hour,” she says, giggling and setting me off doing the same. It has been a long time since I laughed like that. Afterwards, I feel a sudden rush to my head.

  Whoa, what the fuck was that?

  Shaking it off, I answer, “Hey, I’m no expert.”

  I watch as she downs the rest of her wine, making me do the same. She then turns to me. “Hey, is it hot in here?” she asks, pulling at her frilly blouse.

  Now that she’s said that, I can feel it too. Jeez, it’s like the air con’s been turned off. It actually gives me a good idea. “If you want, we can go up to my flat. The living room’s always nice and cold.”

 
She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re not trying to get me alone, are you?”

  I laugh. “Not unless you want me to.” I put my hands up when she glares at me. “Scouts honour, I’m only asking because you’re feeling hot. To be honest, I’m feeling it, too.”

  At first, she doesn’t say anything. She just looks at me for a few seconds. “Okay. Lead the way.”

  She motions with her hands, so I get off my barstool, wobbling a little as I do. Fuck, that wine must be strong.

  “Are you okay?” Dr Mercy asks, concern in her voice.

  Shit, what’s wrong with me? It’s like I’m drunker than normal. “I’m fine,” I reply, trying to pull myself the fuck together. “Follow me.”

  I make my way around the bar, hollering at Akilah as I do. When he turns, I motion to him that I’m going upstairs. The look on his face doesn’t go unnoticed once he spots who’s with me. He may as well have given me a wink and a thumbs up along with a “Get in there, boy!”

  As I shake my head, I walk through to the back where the stairs are and attempt to climb them, but it’s like my legs have turned to jelly.

  “Let me help you.” I feel Dr Mercy’s arm around me as she helps me up. “You’re not normally a drinker, I see.” She has the audacity to smirk.

  “Hey, I can handle my drink. I can put it away better than anyone.”

  She laughs. “Clearly, you have not drunk with a Scot.” I want to respond, but the words get stuck. “Where to now?” she asks.

  Lazily, I point to the second door on the right. “In there.”

  She attempts to drag me to the door, but the more she does, the more I become limp.

  What the fuck’s happening?

  “Keys?”

  I point to my jeans pocket as I can’t be arsed to put my hand in there. Suddenly, I can’t be arsed to do anything. The hallway’s starting to spin.

  “Easy does it,” she says, leading me into the room. I hear the door bang, so I assume she’s closed it. I’m now all alone in my room with the exception of Dr Mercy. This is something I’ve been dreaming of ever since I met her. And yet, here I am with the room spinning, and instead of wanting to fuck, I want to sleep. To say that I feel both frustrated and disappointed would be an understatement to say the least.