Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Julian

Rosie’s beautywas truly divine. A little angel on my sofa, dwarfed by one of my shirts.

She was a blend I hadn’t known before. A tantalising mixture of sexual naivety and a strange sense of wisdom. The tiny goddess was young in body, but not in mind.

She most certainly wasn’t the type of girl who’d usually be spreading her legs for me. My conquests had always been flirtatious to the extreme, displaying their curves, pouts and giggles. They were used to being the centre of attention, comfortable and spoiled – like my own daughter was – showered in compliments and gifts from the moment they were born. Grace and her friends had never had to handle the word no. Neither had most of my Oxford students.

Rosie was very, very different.

She pulled her legs up under herself before she began talking. I loved how comfortable she looked in this place. How comfortable she was with me.

“I’m not like people think I am,” she said. “So, I guess that makes two of us, doesn’t it? People think I’m just a little girl in thick-rimmed glasses, chewing up regular teenage drama around my mum being caught up with losers. You probably think that, too. But I’m not.”

“On the contrary,” I told her. “If anything, I think the opposite. I doubt you’ve had the freedom of swimming in the innocence of life. I’m sure you’ve witnessed the dregs of human behaviour in this place, right from the very beginning. What should have been your formative years have not been very kind to you.”

The truth in my words seemed to subdue her. She fiddled with one of the buttons on the shirt she was wearing. She’d taken me aback with the randomness of her Katreya questions earlier, so I opted to dig deep with my own.

“How many fathers have you known? A fair few? Have your mother’s partners stepped in like shining stepdaddies in the main, until their relationship turned sour?”

“Quite a few of them, yeah.”

“I was correct, then. There have been a number.”

She sighed. “Mum thinks every guy who walks through the door is her soulmate. The knight in Crenham Drive armour who is going to give her all the love in the world. I used to believe her. I’ve always been a story book reader. I always hoped she’d find the hero of her own.”

“The honeymoon period doesn’t last all that long, I imagine.”

She smiled sadly. “No, it doesn’t. Cheats, assholes, druggies. There are a whole card deck full of idiots around here. Scottie has been the longest serving stepdaddy, actually and he’s the very worst. He played the knight in shining armour like a guy possessed early on, but it was obvious to me, right from the start. He’s shit, selfish, and doesn’t respect anyone. Not even his own son.”

I took my cigarette over to the window. I had nothing to pass judgement on regarding those statements. The loved ones I’d called home would have all said the same about me. I had no place to condemn Scottie for being a selfish cunt, but I did have a place to condemn him for being an abusive, violent criminal. He’d burn in hell along with me, but on a much higher heat.

“I wish he’d just fuck off, once and for all,” Rosie said. “He tears Mum to pieces, and she’s still always desperate to take him back. It’s like the worse he makes her feel, the more she feels she needs him. Sad, isn’t it?”

I pushed the window open as wide as it would go and lit up my cigarette.

“Sad, but no doubt true. He’s a leech of confidence who leaves a trail of positive breadcrumbs as a reward. I’m sure he’s quite proficient at it.”

“He’s got her like a fish on a line.”

“Indeed.”

I saw the pain in her eyes.

“Any ideas how I get him the hell away from her, then? I don’t exactly have a stash of cash for a hitman.” She tried to lighten her words with a laugh. “Don’t suppose you’ve got a few thousand you could lend me to get the job done, have you? I’ll pay you back over the next eight hundred years.”

In theory, I had a lot more than a few thousand. Outside of my professor role, I was co-owner of my wife’s therapy business. We’d started it up together using a chunk of my inheritance, and it had flown high on a national scale, me plugging away at it like a fiend at every opportunity. If Katreya and I proceeded with a divorce and went through the proper channels, I’d be extremely wealthy. As it happens, I’d unloaded just one set of my savings into a new bank account when I left Oxford, taking out a decent chunk in cash that I’d been spending frugally.

It struck me then just how deeply I must have sunk into the dregs of Crenham Drive. Rosie didn’t seem to have the slightest clue as to the full extent of my wealth. These days I likely appeared as nothing more than a dropout with a posh accent.

“I hate every single cell in Scottie’s body,” she said, and the pain on her face was strong enough that it made my gut twist.

The guy really did deserve a hitman as far as I was concerned, purely from the hurt he’d put in her eyes, let alone her mother’s. Something struck me deep – a fire of rage that shot right from the core of me. I hadn’t known abusers like him before. Too sheltered, most likely. The thought of that cunt hurting the girl in front of me was ammunition enough for me to want to destroy him. To annihilate his vile excuse of a soul.

One thing was for certain. I wouldn’t let him hurt her again, no matter the cost involved.

“That situation will be resolved, I can assure you,” I told her, but she shrugged.

“Maybe one day. If Mum finally sees him for the asshole that he is. I’m not holding my breath, though.”

I didn’t elaborate on my intentions. Rosie didn’t need to be caught up in the darkness I was planning.

“Tell me more,” I said. “College, lifestyle, other secrets. What makes you you?”

“That’s the thing,” she said. “None of it makes me who I am. I don’t know who I am anymore. College does nothing, neither did school. Even though most of the kids were from this same grotty estate, most of them still seemed to be kids. I hung around with some of them, sure. They played games, and laughed and joked, all hanging out together, playing cool, but I never felt like a part of them. There was only one girl I was close to. She was my everything. We were glued at the hip for years.”

That took me aback.

“Really?”

She nodded. “Yeah, really. Her name was Molly.”

“What happened to her?”

Rosie’s smile was beautiful.

“Her mum actually did meet a knight in shining armour. She crossed paths with a guy in a bar who was on a work trip from London. Jacob was his name. I think he was only in Club Triumph as a joke with his drunk friends. Shannon ended up moving to London with him, to a really nice place in Kensington. I visited them once, but I didn’t get on with Molly’s new friends. We stayed in touch for a bit, but it faded. I didn’t want to hold her back.”

“You must have been very jealous. What a lucky girl.”

“Not jealous, no. Sad to lose her – understatement – but not jealous. Molly and Shannon deserved it.” She paused. “Mum didn’t take it as well as I did. Shannon was a good friend of hers, too. They’d see each other a lot, both of them having the same load of shit with people they were hooked up with. Me and Molly would sit in her room together, chatting through life, the universe and the shithole we called home. But then, all of a sudden, they were gone. Jacob only stayed once in their apartment before he took them away. Maybe that’s what made it harsher. It was almost like they’d died. One minute always there, every single day, the next gone. Just like that.”

“I see.”

The thought made me feel uncomfortable. The parallel gave me a shiver.

I focused back on Rosie as she carried on.

“Mum thought it was because she wasn’t good enough. She’d been at Triumph on the same night. She saw Jacob first actually. It was her who pointed him out. She said if she’d have been the pretty one… the funnier one… the cooler one… the smarter one…” Her voice trailed off. “It fucked her up.”

I could imagine that. Her mother’s self-confidence was likely shredded to pieces – what little she may have had of it.

“How old were you when they moved away?”

“Eleven. My teachers thought I’d get back up and close to other kids after that, but I didn’t. And I was so depressed that Mum was so depressed, they put me forward for counselling. Listening through my problems, most likely scribbling down daddy issues rather than the fact that I was alone, trying to care for a mum that couldn’t take care of herself.” She looked over at me as I took a long drag of my cigarette. “She met Scottie in Triumph, you know? The same club. I think she always hoped she’d find another Jacob in there, but she found the total opposite.”

I used the opportunity to steer into him.

“Scottie clearly wasn’t there on a business trip from London. What does he do?”

“He works in roofing. Just a shame health and safety is so strict, otherwise maybe he’d fall off a building.”

“Long days at work, at least.”

“Small mercies.”

“Quite.” I hoped I wasn’t being too obvious. “What hours does he work? Does he work away?”

She saw through me, or thought she did.

“Don’t worry. He leaves early. I’ll be able to head in and get my college stuff without him being in the apartment.”

“Are you sure about that? How early exactly?”

“Five a.m.,” she said, and her smile was so genuine it gave me a pang. “Thanks for caring. It means a lot. It’s great to have somewhere to go. I haven’t had anywhere genuine, not since Molly.”

“Molly wasn’t a sex addicted alcoholic who slammed his cock into you when you needed support.” I laughed, but Rosie’s face lit up, unexpectedly.

“Is that a promise? Are you going to fuck me?”

I stubbed my cigarette out in the ashtray on the windowsill. “I really shouldn’t.”

“Who says so?”

I smirked. “Almost all of conventional society. I think a jury would vote against it.”

She didn’t smirk back. “Who gives a fuck about conventional society? Do you? Really?”

Rosie was serious. Her eyes were digging.

“I used to, yes,” I told her. “I used to care very, very much.”

“I used to think Molly would invite me over to live with her one day, or Mum would meet someone great and stop crying, or Scottie would one day stop being a nasty, violent asshole, but things change.”

“We become disillusioned.”

“Yes,” she said. “So, can you get disillusioned about this, please? You don’t have to be a noble man. Not with me.”

I laughed, loving her faith in me.

“I couldn’t be a noble man if I tried. That’s what led me here in the first place, after all.”

She didn’t laugh back.

“Don’t be one, then. I’m not asking you to be. I don’t need you to be squeaky clean and perfect.”

I returned to the sofa. Her breaths quickened as I took a seat beside her.

“You deserve a Jacob of your own,” I told her. “You deserve someone a lot better than a forty-eight-year-old sicko who wants to fuck you senseless at every opportunity.”

She took a deep breath.

“That was amazing what you did. You made me feel like the greatest goddess in the world. I’ve been thinking about the girl in the photos all the time. It drives me crazy, because that’s what I want. I want you.”

Her honesty was impressive, but she was on the wrong track. It wouldn’t be good for her.

“I think you should reconsider that standpoint,” I said. “Aside from eating you out, all I did was pull an abusive idiot away from your mother and offer you a place to stay. That doesn’t give me a halo. It gives me a basic conscience.”

“It isn’t just about what you’ve done for me… I’d be here anyway.”

I tipped my head. “Really? You’d be here with me, the creepy man upstairs, if it weren’t for the fact that I intervened when you were desperate?”

Her eyes stayed firmly on mine. “Yeah, I would be. I’ve been thinking about more than just the way you saved Mum from Scott that night. A lot more.” She looked away from me with another blush. “I’d be here anyway, regardless of Scottie. You’re, um…”

She pushed her glasses up her nose in her trademark manner. It gave me a hard cock and a pang in the ribs, both in sync.

I loved the way she giggled, just a little.

“You’re pretty cool, you know, Julian? Hot, and smart, and brilliant. You’re a lot more than a creepy man upstairs.”

It knocked me aback, hugely. I’d been approached and appreciated by many young girls in my life, but they had seen me against a different backdrop. Proud, successful, preened and polished. Not as a freaky loser in a suit from Crenham Drive.

I had to keep myself straight. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to slam her straight down onto the cushions and take her virginity like a beast on a mission.

“I’m not going to fuck you tonight. You aren’t in a position to have a clear head on things.”

She shrugged. “What about when I do have a clear head on things? I’ll still want it tomorrow, even when I’m exhausted after college. I’ll want it every single minute, until you give it to me.”

I’d forgotten all about the time. We were deep into the early hours, with Rosie due at college, and my office monotony starting for a whole new week in the morning. Now definitely wasn’t the time to be easing my way into her virginity.

“I shouldn’t take advantage of you,” I said. “You’re a vulnerable girl in a difficult situation, with your whole life ahead of you.”

She brushed it aside. “Sure, yeah. Just say you’ll think about fucking me, will you?”

There was a tiny glimpse of her humour again. It was so genuine, and so quietly her, that I wished I could bottle it. It would be a bestseller on the essence front. Shame I couldn’t bottle that glorious essence of hers and press it to the pages of one of my ancient thriller novels. A character like her might well top the charts.

If only she knew it. She had no real faith in herself whatsoever. I wished she could see herself through my eyes, even for just a second.

“Time for bed,” I said, getting up to hold out a hand.

“Fine,” she said and let me pull her to her feet. It was becoming beautifully familiar.

She followed me into the bathroom, using her new toothbrush as I used my old one. There was a bizarre connection forming between us, making this joint bedtime ritual almost cathartic in its simplicity. I’d forgotten what it felt like to share the basics with someone. Not once had any of my playthings seen my daily, mundane practices.

I left Rosie alone as she hovered by the toilet. I didn’t want to impose on that kind of privacy, even though my cock was desperate to see every single inch and spectacle of her, so I went on through to the bedroom. I got the bed ready for her, fluffing up the pillows. I was still positioning them when she appeared in the doorway.

“Will you stay in here with me?” she asked. “You don’t have to fuck me, you can just sleep.”

“If I stay in here, I will want to fuck you, Rosie. A lot.”

“Even more reason to stay in here, then.” She yawned with a grin, the sweetness in her shining. “Please, Julian. I like it, having you close. Plus, you won’t have to sleep on the sofa. Double win.”

It was tempting. I’d love nothing more than to hold her tight. Could I trust my resolve, though? Really?

She shuffled on her feet, like she was awaiting a verdict, and there was no doubt that I’d have to give it a try.

“Yes, I’ll sleep in here with you,” I said.

She looked as though I’d bestowed an honour. Crazy, how little a girl of her character and beauty had come to expect from life.

Grinning like a kid on Christmas Day morning, she whipped my shirt off over her head and dropped it on the floor. “Which side do you sleep on?” she asked, hands on her tiny hips.

I stared at her naked beauty but only for moments before I grabbed up the shirt and flung it at her.

“The shirt stays on,” I said despite my raging hard-on.

She rolled her eyes, made a show of wriggling slowly back into the shirt.

“I’m easy,” I said, “you choose,” and indicated to the bed.

She climbed into bed, watching me as I loosened my tie.

Of course… she hadn’t seen me naked.

She didn’t take her glasses off as she got settled under the covers. Her eyes were all on me as I stripped off my shirt, socks and trousers. I was positive she could see my swollen cock in my boxers, but I slid into bed beside her and pulled the covers up high, trying to play it down.

She handed me her glasses before I got the light. I put them gently on the bedside table as she sighed and curled up against my side.

It was the most natural thing to hold her close and plant a kiss on her head once I’d turned the light off.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I said in the darkness.

“Night,” she said back. “I don’t want to be your sweetheart, though. I want to be the girl in the photos.”

I didn’t respond to that, just kept her in my arms.

The curtains were aglow with both the orange of streetlamps and the white of the moon as her breaths deepened. I waited, staring up at the ceiling as she fell into the depths of sleep, glad she was finding some solace in this place.

There was no way I’d be sleeping tonight, though.

As Rosie calmed, my own senses heightened. I was worth nothing in comparison to her being worth everything. She was a pure lightness against my pitch-dark filth, and there was no way I wanted to bring her down with me into my seedy rabbit hole. I wanted to set her free and up high, without being shackled in hell with the idiot her mother was at the mercy of, and I’d do it. No matter the consequences.

When the sweet little angel was all the way into dreamland, I was able to slide away without waking her up. I stood and watched her sleeping awhile, the glow from the window lighting her up like a masterpiece.

I knew what I needed to do.

It was gone four a.m. when I left the bedroom, picking up my clothes from the floor on the way. I eased the door closed behind me, being careful not to make a sound as I got myself dressed in the bathroom. My eyes were hollow and cold as I stared at myself in the mirror, and they needed to be, because I was determined to go through with saving Rosie, whatever the cost.

I took three swigs of whisky from the bottle while I had another cigarette in the living room.

I was going to do this. I was going to set Rosie free from the idiot downstairs.

Crenham Drive was still dark outside as five a.m. approached. I felt like an alien, deranged version of my previous self as I slid open my kitchen drawer. I was more insane than I’d ever been, but I felt surprisingly calm alongside it. A pair of opposites in myself, magnetised.

I was extremely careful as I made my way downstairs to the alcove by the main entrance door. I ensured I was concealed in darkness, hidden from the puny flickering overhead light by the time I heard thumping footsteps sounding on the stairs.

I knew who they belonged to.

My efforts at camouflage had been worthwhile. The cunt known as Scottie had no idea I was lurking in the shadows when he passed me by. The rage was rife in my limbs as I slammed up against him from behind and shunted him into the alcove, spinning him to face me. I slapped my hand straight over his mouth, picturing the vile piece of shit up close to Rosie.

That would never be happening again.

He tried to struggle, but it was useless. He stopped deadly still when I pressed the point of the knife into the base of his ribcage.

“Don’t even think about moving. Or I swear to God, you’ll fucking regret it.”

My chef’s knife was still threatening him as I let his mouth free.

“You’re fucking mental!” he said. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

He was shaking like a leaf. Not such a badass after all.

“I don’t think I’m doing anything,” I said calmly. “I know exactly what I’m doing, and that’s giving you one chance. You have one tiny chance to save your life, or believe me, I’ll be taking it from you. Call it mercy and give me fucking thanks.”

He likely didn’t believe me, until he saw the true depth of hate in my stare.

His common sense didn’t believe his heart, though. His idiocy still battled the truth.

“You’re a fucking headcase!” he said, but his tone was weaker now.

I pulled the knife away, because I wasn’t scared of him in the slightest. I’d have had him in a chokehold within seconds if I needed to.

“I fucking mean it,” I told him, eyes cold as ice. “If you ever so much as look at Rosie again, I will kill you.”

His pitiful eyes widened as my threat registered.

“Rosie? What the fuck?! What did she say to you?”

I pressed my arm up tight to his neck.

“I’m sure you know what she said to me, and I can assure you, I’m not fucking playing. If you have any sense in that thick skull of yours, then you’ll pay heed, because I won’t be telling you again.” I smiled down at him. “You know, believe it or not, I used to do jujitsu when I was younger. I’m a bit out of practice, but I’m still perfectly capable of breaking someone’s limbs one by one, and I’m also capable of putting a knife in your ribcage. If you go near Rosie again, I’ll be showing you.”

“Are you out of your fucking head?!”

“Most likely,” I said. “Who really cares? The outcome will be the same, regardless. Rosie will be free of you, and so will Beverly. That’s worth both of our pitiful souls. I’ll give mine gladly, to take yours.”

“You’re joking, right?” he said. “You really are fucking mental. You’re hardly a fucking killer!”

He was wrong on that. The tension in my veins sang to a very different tune. In that moment, in the craze of the plummet to my true, honest darkness, I felt my soul being set free. One final light in the depths of my miserable end.

I watched my words penetrate his measly excuse for a brain.

“There’s nothing more dangerous than someone who has nothing to live for,” I said. “Believe me, I’ll kill you quite happily on my way out. I’ll be leaving anyway.”

Scottie didn’t speak after that, just kept his eyes locked on mine. My stare won. He lost the battle of wills as I gave him the instructions.

“I think you’ll have a pressing reason to leave this place before you’re due to come back tonight, won’t you? Who knows, maybe you’ll get an irresistible job offer from far away. A job overseas, perhaps? Something too opportunistic to ignore?”

He gave the slightest hint of a nod, which only confirmed it. He was too weak to fight me.

I carried on talking.

“You wouldn’t want to upset Beverly, of course. No, no. I’m sure you’ll address your sudden career exit in a way that doesn’t destroy her confidence. I’m positive you’ll be able to convey just how much you love her, despite you being away for the foreseeable.”

At that, I crushed his windpipe with my arm until he was retching. He sucked in a huge, desperate breath when I threw him to the floor.

“I’ve left no marks on you, of course,” I said, as he crawled away from me. “I can’t imagine the police would take any allegations you might make all that seriously. Karma is one hell of a callous bitch, isn’t she?”

Scottie didn’t try to protest, or fight, just kept on crawling until he reached the front door.

“Farewell, you pitiful cunt,” I said, my adrenaline pulsing as he climbed to his feet and scrambled away.

He didn’t look back, and that merely confirmed it. I’d succeeded. My dark soul had slammed against the cold ice of hell, and I’d fulfilled the remains of a purpose. I’d negated the threat of the man who’d chewed up the faith of the sweet little angel upstairs.

I smiled at the morning as I lit up a cigarette outside, with my knife buried inside my suit jacket. It was the first sliver of pride I’d felt in years.