Home > Tainted Love(4)

Tainted Love(4)
Author: Jaimie Roberts

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?”

Remembering 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.

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