Page 2 of Into the Dark
“Yes, Mum.”
“Hmm. You had fun?”
He nods. “We played with the racing cars and then the dinosaur Lego game and then Daddy said I could watch Lion King.”
She rolls her eyes at that. “Again?”
Caleb ignores her and goes back to the movie.
“I didn’t think you were getting him until tomorrow,” I say, scrubbing my hand across my face and through my hair.
“Yeah, I know. I’m not. I just missed him. I was in town and thought I’d pop in and say hello.” She gives me another smile.
I just stare, not buying it.
“I think I need to cut his hair—it’s getting so long.” She runs her fingers through the length on his head. “What do you think?”
She’s asking my opinion now? I shrug. “I like his hair the way it is. He suits it.”
She stares at me for a moment and then nods before putting his headphones back over his ears. “Okay. I’ll leave it then. I’ll just give it a bit of a trim before he starts nursery. Thanks for dealing with that, by the way.”
She means thanks for settling the eight-grand fee for the year. As if she has to thank me for paying for my son’s education or my son’s anything.
I say nothing, instead turning to watch as he picks up the tablet and resumes Lion King.
“Since you’re here, I’m going to go up and take a shower.” I head toward the stairs.
She puts her hand on my arm, stopping me. “I could cut your hair if you want. Shave this thing off too.” She reaches up to touch my face, but I pull my head back out of her reach. She hides her disappointment well. “You look so much better without it, babe.”
“Vic, when I want your opinion on something I’ll fucking ask for it.” I leave her staring after me as I climb the stairs.
I’ve thought about shaving the beard, but the longer I leave it the more it’s become like a visual timeline. It’s also a good way of hiding from myself, from the person who used to stare back at me. The person she can’t love.
The heavy spray of water feels like a thousand tiny punches all over my body. Fred wants to talk to me about something today, and I guess that should make me nervous considering what I’ve been up to. But it doesn’t. My head is too full of other things to be worried about Fred. Plus, Freddy would never suspect me of anything other than absolute loyalty. Someone could show him a photo of me wearing a wire and having a drink with a copper in full uniform and he’d accuse them of photoshopping the image. He trusts me. I’m the son he never had. He’s said it a thousand times.
Which is exactly why this is going to work.
As I scrub the grime and sweat from my body, thoughts of her fill my head. Simpler ones this time. The sound of her voice, the scent of her skin. The taste of her in my mouth and the noises she made when I kissed her slow and deep. My hand drifts down to my cock to clean it, but the thoughts of her cause me to grip it instead, imagining it’s her hand wrapped around it, maybe her mouth. The night I found her naked at her piano is the image I choose this time. The same night I knew I’d never feel about another woman the way I feel about her. I love her. I suspected it before that night. Fuck, I wanted her the minute I clapped eyes on her, but the more time I spent in her orbit, the more I never wanted to come out of it.
I come against the tile, my body relaxing as the tension seeps out of it through my cock. The weight on my shoulders lifts, as does the tension behind my eyes. But then I remember everything, and it starts to ebb back in.
I’m walking back into the bedroom when Vicky appears at the top of the stairs holding a plate out to me, her eyes roaming my body and that look appearing on her face again. I ignore it and walk across to the wardrobe.
“Made you a sandwich,” she says. “I was making one for Caleb and thought you might be hungry.” As she comes toward me I notice she’s barefoot. The fact she makes herself at home here isn’t something I like—barefoot and making me food being a prime example. I bite my tongue though because I don’t have the energy to deal with it.
“I’m not hungry,” I tell her instead. Can I wear gym gear to meet Fred? Should probably make a bit of an effort considering I’m a lying piece of shit… I pull out a pair of dark jeans and a casual blue shirt and throw them on the bed before going to the drawers to lift out clean underwear. As I bend over, I feel her arms slide around my waist and her hand skim over the front of the towel between my legs.
I whip around to glare at her. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“He’s downstairs with headphones on—he won’t hear us.” She shrugs, stepping in close again.
My cock practically retreats up inside, taking my balls with it. I catch her by the wrists and narrow my eyes at her. “Are you off your fucking head? Seriously? Are you using again?” It’s a possibility. With her, it’s a definite possibility.
She rolls her eyes. “Lighten up. What’s the big fucking deal? You enjoyed it last time.”
I widen my eyes. “Last time? Last time was almost three fucking years ago and I was barely fucking conscious!”
She looks burned for a second. Then she narrows her eyes at me. “This is about her, isn’t it? Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re not actually sitting about here moping over that stuck-up cow.” She takes a step back, and I let go of her. “Like, I don’t even get it. You and her? You couldn’t have thought that would last.” She laughs and shakes her head. “She doesn’t fit in our world, babe. She doesn’t fit with you. It was never gonna work out between you two—surely you realize that now.”
