Her Jim sounds a little like someone I know.
“Doesn’t that get old fast though?” I quiz her.
She stops what she’s doing and turns to face me. “Do you know what I think would get old fast? Not caring enough to even bother fighting.”
Should I tell her? Should I ask for her advice? I don’t really know how to do this. But Alice seems knowledgeable. Fuck it.
“I think I know a man like your Jim. I’ve known him two weeks and I’m already drained,” I put the remark out like it's nothing, just a casual bit of chit-chat. I want to speak to her about it but I don’t even know where to begin. She fills the cups with tea and I start to think maybe she’s not going to say anything else.
“Do you like him?” she finally asks.
I think about that for a minute. “Sometimes. But I know I shouldn’t. He’s done some fucked up things — not to me,” I add that little lie because I’m ashamed to admit, even to her, that I started out as his victim, “but you’re not supposed to like people who do bad things, are you?”
Alice shrugs while she takes our cups over to the table and sits down. “I don’t know about that, but it seems to me that if no one likes the bad person, then what's to stop the bad person doing bad things?”
Hmm. I see where she’s going with this. Villains need love too, and all that. “You have a point,” I say, taking a sip of my tea while I think about it. “But what if you can’t change the bad person? What if you’re not even sure you want to change them?”
I don’t know if she’ll understand the second part of my question.
Maybe a part of me wants Shaun to be telling the truth and wants him to like me. I definitely want him to stop trying to ruin my life. But do I want him to change completely?
That’s a harder question to answer. There’s another man who wants me, and that one is all sickly sweet and ‘babe’. Liam couldn’t be poured into a fight if you melted him, he’s light in all the places Shaun is dark. On paper, Liam is everything I should want, everything my father wants, everything you’re supposed to want.
And yet he doesn’t make me feel the way Shaun does.
I’m scared that I could live my whole life without anyone ever making me feel the way Shaun does.
And somehow I don’t think I’d feel this way if Shaun was just your regular, average nice guy.
“So, you fall for the bad guy. You won’t be the first — christ knows I wasn’t — and you won’t be the last either. Maybe you get hurt, maybe you don’t. Maybe you end up brokenhearted, but then again, maybe you end up like me, 50 years later, the glint in his eye still gives you butterflies and the grand-bairns keep you awake all night.”
I laugh at the mental image of us ever having grandchildren. I’d have to survive having actual children with him first, God help me.
“You do what you want to do. Either way, who is judging you?” she asks.
“No one… I’m judging myself,” I tell her with a shrug.
“Exactly. And we’re always our own worst critic.”
Chapter 2
SHAUN
Hours later and her words still fucking sting. I’m used to her harsh tongue — hell it’s usually a turn on. But this time is different. This time, her words actually reflect her actions and I can’t deny that it’s ripped me a new one.
If even a tiny part of me thought for a second that this was good for her, I would have let her go. I never thought I’d see the day where I said that, but it’s true. I’m used to taking what is mine. I’m used to fighting. When you fall off, you get back up and you try the fuck again. But I wouldn’t have fought her if I thought she’d be happier without me.
I want her to be happy.
But this just doesn’t feel right.
And the worst part of it all is that she thinks it is. She’s so used to not being cared for that she thinks this is normal. A business agreement. A transaction. A number on a ledger. I’ll take Liam down for what he did to my sister, but I’ll enjoy taking her dad down just as well.
Piece of shit.
There is also a part of me that’s angry with her too, for being so fucking naïve. Why is it she can’t see any wrong in her dad, or in Liam? And yet with me she’s this strong, resilient force that dares to be reckoned with?
She lets everyone else walk all over her while she puts all of her energy into fighting me. It’s both infuriating and frustrating at the same time.
I park the car on her drive. It’s 4.45am, and the sun is about to rise. Too early for anyone to be awake, but not early enough for anyone who might be awake to think twice about seeing the housekeeper’s car parked on Lacey’s driveway.
My gran is an angel and refuses me nothing.
How can I say no to that face when it’s enough to stop traffic?
She said that to me once when I was just a sprog who wanted more chocolate pudding. And she’s been saying it ever since, even when I asked her to come out of retirement for me.
I don’t regret doing that. Lacey will probably go mental when she finds out, but at the time it seemed the easiest way to know her and daddys whereabouts, and more importantly, to understand how much further I needed to push her before she cracked.
I get out of my gran’s Volkswagen Golf and head around to the back garden, where she left the sitting-room window unlocked as usual. As I get closer, I notice she’s clipped that arsehole of a rose bush after me bitching about it on Sunday.
Good girl.
The other times I’ve done this, I’ve not cared about making any noise. In fact, the other times I’ve actively tried to startle her.
This time though, I’m quieter than a mouse. I don’t let a single floorboard creak on the way up the stairs. As much as a struggle that ends in a fucking is right up there on my hot list, this isn’t the time for it.
Plenty of time for that when she’s safe.
She’s sound asleep. I can barely see her, but I can hear her breathing.
I unlock my phone to give me a wee bit of light. The flash light would be too much, but with this at least I can make sure I’m not jabbing the needle right into her eyeball or something.
I take a seat on the edge of her bed, the mattress shifting under my weight. She sighs in her sleep and sticks her arm under her pillow. I watch her for a few minutes, thinking how peaceful she looks now and wondering what her face will be like the next time I see her.
She’s going to hate me, but I told her I didn’t care if she hated me, and I wasn’t lying.
Doing this will prove to her I wasn’t lying.
Eventually.
It’ll all come out in the wash, son.
My wee gran used to say that to me too, usually after I’d fucked something up.
I don’t see this as a fuck up, though.
I see this as a necessary evil.
Chapter 3
LACEY
I wake up and I’m not in my bed.
I don’t think I’m even in my bedroom.
The surface I’m sleeping on feels harder. My body feels slow, groggy, and every muscle aches.