Survival (Twisted Book 1) (14 page)

Ava and Kevin lived in Jersey and the only way we would see them would be to holiday there, and we hadn’t yet. He was good with kids, naturally paternal,
which no doubt came from him being a bit of a goofball, and he spent the day playing with the Scalextric we bought the boys.

He had a great family; relaxed and happy around each other. Francesca and Martin were affectionate, the kind of behaviour I was afraid of before I met Thomas. I had happy memories of my family, each one vague and clouded, and I couldn’t be sure if they were real or just what I wanted to believe.

“It’s getting late.”

Thomas stood from the sofa and held his hand out for me. I was tired, emotionally exhausted from having to pretend I wasn’t dying inside, wishing Oliver was here to celebrate with us. Tommy and Jake were in bed in Thomas’ old room and we had been snuggled on the sofa talking.

“Will you be here for New Year?” Fran asked as everyone stood and we made our way to the front door.

“We’ve got a company celebration,” Thomas said. “I’ve got to go and show Skye’s boss who the
real
boss is.”

I smacked the top of his arm and turned to his parents.

“Thank you for having me over today.”

“Nonsense,” Martin waved his hand in dismissal, much like Thomas had a habit of doing when he deemed thanks unnecessary. “You’re part of the family now.”

My chest tightened and my eyes blurred until Ava pulled me in for a hug. I had a chance to rein in the emotion with my head in the crook of her neck before she freed me.

“Anyone who puts up with Thomas is family in our books. Let’s get together.”

“Definitely,” as long as she didn’t bring up kids again.

We said our goodbyes and Thomas held my hand as he led me to the car.

“That’s another year you’ve survived a Radley Christmas.” He said as he pulled away from the house.

“I love your family.”

“I’m just sorry yours aren’t around to see how amazing you are.”

“Thomas-”

“I know. We don’t talk about it. Just know that you can, if you need to. I'm not going anywhere.”

“Thank you.”

There was a long silence as I watched the streets go by from the window of the car.

“I miss them all,” I spoke quietly, unsure if I really wanted to say it. “I never understood what happened. One minute we were happy and the next, it all fell apart. I miss Oliver the most. He didn’t choose to leave me, he was taken. I'm not the same Skye I was back then and that’s why I don’t talk about it. I repressed it so I could survive.”

“I would love any form of you. I would have fallen for you no matter what,” he pulled my hand onto his lap, but I kept my eyes on the world outside. “Is that what you do now? Survive?”

“It’s what I did for a long time. It wasn’t about living, it was about surviving. It was about making it through each day. How could I live, when Oliver couldn’t?”

“Have you ever thought about living for both of you?”

I turned to him and leaned over to kiss his cheek.

“I do live. With you. I never thought I’d have that.”

“You’ll always have it.”

I nodded. For once, I didn’t feel like eventually, he would leave me too.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind…Damn auld Lang Syne.

New Year’s Eve, 2009.

“I love your curves.”

Thomas made me jump as I arranged the cushions on the sofa and I turned to see him leaning against the doorframe, watching me. He was dressed for the party and biting his bottom lip. He looked utterly fuckable and charming; his usual self, and I loved it.

“Thank you,” I turned slowly to give him a show. “Are you ready?”

“I am. Come here.”

I stepped into his arms and accepted the kiss that made his lips the same deep red as my lipstick. I wiped it away with my thumb.

“No game tonight,” I said, keeping my eyes on his mouth. I slid my hand down and cupped him through his trousers. He hardened instantly. “I want to know that I can have you whenever, however, wherever.”

“As you wish,” he covered my hand with his and we stroked him together. “The car is outside.”

I dropped to my knees and took our hands away; my teeth grazed the outline of his hard cock, constricted in his trousers. He hummed and I heard him swallow.

“No rules tonight,” I stood up, tapped his chest and left the room.

“Nina.”

Thomas and I approached my boss, surrounded by her guests. Thomas held his hand at the bottom of my back and I caressed my champagne flute. It was our usual position; it showed other women he was taken and it showed other men I wasn’t interested. It showed neither of us were available for conversation that wasn’t professional. We didn’t want anyone bursting our bubble without permission.

“Here she is!” Nina pulled me away and squashed me to her.
“Beautiful dress. I told you Bruno was the man for you.”

“You know what you’re talking about
,” Nina had recommended Bruno to me and he gave me a black cocktail dress. It was simple and classy. “You’ve met Thomas.”

I stepped back to him, but Nina smothered him before we could resume our position.

“I have,” she held him at arm’s length. “Mr Radley, you get better looking every time I see you.”

“No one’s looking at me, Nina. Your beauty lights up the room,” he kissed her hand,
then her cheek and I shook my head, smiling. Charmer. “A great party as always.”

Nina winked. She knew she’d rocked it; she always did. She threw the biggest New Year’s Eve party every year; the best money could buy.
Champagne, h’ordeuvres, live music, chandeliers, a mixologist and a bar that sparkled black and gold. All set out in the grand estate that was The Bertolli Household. Even when she was married, the estate was named after her. Nina and Thomas could no doubt charm the pants off each other all night. I was still socially awkward; I had never been able to play the charm game with Thomas. He simply ensnared me and I never wanted him to let me go. But it was time to take him back from my boss.

“Come on,” I took his hand. “Nina, you’re in demand, and I owe my boyfriend a dance.”

Nina purred playfully and clawed at Thomas’ arm as I pulled him away and to the dancefloor.

“I’m not sure who won the bet,” Thomas said taking me into his arms. “She’s quite…rabid.”

I gave him the ‘I told you so’ look and settled into his embrace. We fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle, his 6’1 a perfect match for my 5’7 and he settled his hand on the bottom of my back as we laced our hands together on his chest.

“We get to start another year together,” he said, pressing his lips to the top of my head.

“We’ll end another one together, too.”

He sighed with relief and we danced in silence as the rest of the part
y disappeared. I hated that he did that, waited for me to leave him. I knew it was my fault because I was waiting for him to do the same. I looked different on the outside; I had money, a career and the life many strive for. But I was still the same girl from the turn of the century, lost and frightened. Only I wasn’t alone anymore. I had Thomas and I had to show him how important he was.

The guests gathered in the centre of the hall as the countdown began. Everyone counted, waiting for the new year to arrive, but I turned to face Thomas. I looked into his eyes as he counted down to the beginning of our next year together. His eyes shone, his smile made him appear younger and his hands held mine like he didn’t want to let go. It was always like that when I looked at him. It felt like magic, every time. The clock struck midnight and the cheers erupted, but I didn’t cheer. I didn’t celebrate. I reached up and kissed Thomas. I tried to show him, without saying the words, that I loved him and I was in it for life.

I stepped back and opened my eyes, but I didn’t look at Thomas. A familiar face was just behind him, stood still in the middle of the celebrating crowd. His face no doubt matched mine. Confusion. Shock. Pain.

“Skye?”
Thomas called.

I looked up at him, remembering where I was, but when I returned my gaze, the face was gone.

“One minute,” I squeezed his hand and took off, running through the party as I looked for him. I didn’t know where to go; I simply let my feet guide me.

I stopped outside the house, but I was alone. I saw nothing. No evidence from the past that had reared its ugly head to remind me how much I hurt. I scanned the front yard and called out, again and again.

“Curtis!”

I wasn’t stalking. You couldn’t stalk someone you couldn’t find. You couldn’t stalk a ghost.

October, 2003.

The Ford Fiesta was good. I expected a shit wagon when I only paid six hundred pounds for it, but Berta – yes, I named her – and I
were good friends. Companions. Lone rangers on the endless roads we travelled together.

I pulled up in a parking space and killed the engine. I checked the name of the place against the leaflet in my hand and I climbed out of the car when I had confirmed I was in the right place.

I was nervous. I always got nervous before the next part. I was hopeful, but prepared for disappointment. If I didn’t have hope, I would have given up a long time ago.

I walked towards the building and swung open the door. It smelled of sweat and I heard the rhythmic pounding I had come to rely on hearing to keep me motivated.

“Hi,” I croaked to the nearest beef cake. “I’m looking for someone, can you help me?”

“Sure. What does a little thing like you want with someone in here?”

Asshole.

“I’m looking for a fighter called Cut Throat. Does he train here?”

“I don’t think so,” he waved to one of the two men in the ring. “TJ?! Anyone called Cut Throat here?”

TJ looked around and shook his head. The other guy turned back to me.

“You’re out of luck. Anything I can help you with, sweetheart?”

“No thanks,” I stopped at the door before leaving. “Your stance is shit. Float
like a butterfly, asshole.”

I didn’t bother looking back. I headed straight to the car and picked up the next flyer, adding the last one to the rapidly growing pile on the back seat.

Where are you, Curtis?

Some people have sex to forget. Some to remember. Some to feel…. I wanted it all.

New Year’s Day, sometime after midnight, 2010.

I was out of breath when I walked back into the house. I had called Curtis’ name until my throat was sore, but he wasn’t there. I didn’t know why I wanted to find him, I just felt like I had to. I should have been angry - he disappeared; he left me like everyone else. I spent months looking for him to find nothing. I scoured every boxing and MMA gym I could find, but he was gone. He just disappeared from the circuit without as much as “I’m still alive”. I got angrier with every step I took. He was there, he saw me, and he ran away after making sure I saw him. I was so angry I clenched my fists until they shook. I wanted to find him, just to punch him; to get the satisfaction of making him feel even a tiny bit of the pain he’d made me feel.

“Skye,” I walked straight into Thomas. In my erratic state, I didn’t see him. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me,” he took hold of my elbow and steered me back outside. “What happened?”

I paced the front porch, trying to calm myself down.

“Remember what I said about my past? About how I’m different now?” He nodded, “Well, I lived fifty miles away from here and someone from my old town just turned up… It made me forget who I am for a minute.”

He opened his mouth to talk, but I held my finger to his lips.

“If you want to talk, we’ll talk. But right now-” I shimmied out of my underwear and tucked it in his jacket pocket, “-find us the nearest surface.”

He gave me the look; the one that questioned my mot
ives. I gave my own look back; one that told him I wanted him, and I smoothed his jacket down.

“I told you. Whenever, however, wherever.”

I tugged his lapels and pulled him towards me, crashing my lips to his and tasting the brandy on his tongue as mine sneaked out to explore.

Thomas slid his hands up
my thighs until my dress revealed the naked flesh beneath and he lifted me up to wrap my legs around him.

“Where do you want it?”

“You could fuck me against the window for all the party to see and I wouldn’t care. I just want you.”

“Hmm…” he nibbled my ear as he thought about his options and his tongue dipped inside before he spoke. “Hold on tight.”

He carried me across the lawn, the tightness in his trousers brushing against me. I didn’t care where we were going; I kissed his neck, sucking and biting, smiling when his step faltered and he groaned.