I lean forward, stopping her before she continues. “No, please. I don’t want anyone else. I want you.”
She shakes her head. “I think I remind you too much of the one person you won’t allow yourself to get over. You have always thought I was Scarlet, but that belief has now manifested itself in your actions now. I’m not making you better. I’m making you worse.”
I vehemently shake my head. “No, no, no,” I urge. “You have it all wrong. Since I met you, I feel like I can breathe again.” She gives me a look like she’s not convinced. I sigh. “I know I haven’t come across that way, but every time I come away from one of our sessions, I feel better. Please don’t turn me away now. I’ll do anything.” Feeling desperate, I say, “Hell, I’ll accept the medication. Get your doctor friend to prescribe something. I’ll take anything. Just please don’t leave me when I need you the most.” I implore her with my eyes and can already tell it’s working. Her face, which was guarded, has softened somewhat.
“You’ll take medication for your depression and mood swings?”
I nod. “Yes, anything. Give me electric shock treatment if you feel that’s necessary.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “That won’t be necessary, Reece, but you do need to admit you need help, and you need to accept it. In fact, that was one of the conditions of your release.”
I nod. “Okay, I’ll accept. Just don’t shut me out. Please,” I beg, almost fluttering my eyelashes.
What the fuck’s gotten into me?
She smiles, and I know I’ve got her. “Okay, I will continue treating you on the condition that you let me get you a prescription. But, I have to warn you, Reece. Pull a stunt like that again, and you’re gone. Do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear,” I answer back.
Scarlet
I have been sitting, listening to the radio quietly playing “You Don’t Own Me” by Grace in the background as I stare at an envelope. I’ve had this envelope in my hands for the last few minutes, continually turning it over and over.
It has been five weeks since I had James, and all is perfect. So perfect that I don’t want to ruin my little bubble. I had been waiting for the day to arrive when I would regret accepting David’s hand in marriage, but it hasn’t come. I keep asking myself one question. If I don’t love him, then why am I marrying him? Why am I bringing up my son with him? Why am I still here?
Despite all those questions, I am still here.
And that, I keep thinking, is what counts.
“Whatever the results, I’m here for you. It doesn’t change the way I feel. James is my world now. You both are.”
And I know what David says is true. He’s doted on James since he was born. I thought I would have to do all the work, but David is more than happy to do his fair share. He’s been my rock. I seriously do not know what I’d do without him.
“I know,” I answer with conviction in my voice.
David sips his bourbon. He looks tired, but somehow rejuvenated at the same time. I can’t quite put my finger on it.
He stares deeply into the fire for a moment, allowing me time to pull my big girl panties on and be done with it. Although it’s almost June, it’s unusually cold for this time of year. I don’t mind, though. Out of all my favourite parts about his house, his fireplace is at the top. It keeps me so cosy at times that I often end up falling asleep on the sofa in front of it.
For a moment, I watch David watch the fire. He looks apprehensive, and I think I can understand why. He didn’t want me to get this paternity test, stating that it didn’t matter. He’s the father and that’s that. I just need to know. I have to know if James is his. It took a little inventive genius to figure out how to get Reid’s DNA. A couple of weeks back, David’s contact in Spain happened to mention that Reid has his hair cut every month at one particular barber. So, making sure he was the next customer after Reid, the contact managed to sneakily snap a piece of Reid’s hair off the floor once he was gone. David was reluctant, but I managed to convince him that I needed this to be done.
And I know no matter what the outcome, it will tear David up. He doesn’t want it to be Reid because he’s a murdering scumbag, but he also doesn’t want it to be Stuart because I think he feels that Stuart was the only man I ever truly fell in love with.
With that last thought, I decide to rip off the band aid, and I tear at the envelope. David looks across for a moment, catching my eye before gulping the rest of his drink down. I can tell by the look in his eye that he’s suffering. Like me, he wants to know, but, at the same time, he doesn’t really want to find out as neither answer is optimal. No matter how many times I tell him that the results won’t mean shit, I know whatever the outcome is will affect him for at least a little while. But, David’s a big boy. He’ll eventually accept it because he has to.
As I unfold the letter, I take in a deep breath and gaze at the results. I kind of knew who the father would turn out to be already, but it still doesn’t stop the shock from coursing through me when I read it.
“It’s him, isn’t it?” David asks with a snarl. I guess he’s already seen the look on my face. I simply nod and watch as David leans forward on a groan and runs his hands over his face. It hurts seeing him like this, and I don’t know why. I’m not supposed to care.
Right?
Getting up, I walk over to the fireplace and stand there, enjoying the warmth it gives me. “The results don’t matter, David. You’re James’ father and always will be.”
He gazes up at me with a lost look in his eyes. When I throw the letter and envelope into the fire, his face is stoic. I walk up to him, placing my hands on his shoulders as I nudge my legs in between his.
“It doesn’t make a difference to me because I know in my heart of hearts who his father is. Please don’t sulk.”
He breathes out a gulp of air before pulling my hips towards him. When he nuzzles his head into my stomach, he kisses me before laying his head to one side. “I know I’ll get over this. It’s just a shock, that’s all. And I know you’ve explained your reasons for doing it, and I understand. It still doesn’t stop me from getting angry. It’s not directed at you—just the situation. I hate that James was conceived in the most disgusting of circumstances. I’m angry with Reid and the situation you were put in. Not at you.” He lifts his head up to look me in the eyes. “Never at you.”
Before getting Reid tested along with James, I told David that I wanted to know for certain in case James starts asking questions when he’s older. Questions I won’t have all the answers to. We could keep James in the dark all his life, but if he eventually finds out in some way, then he will never forgive us. I certainly can’t have that on my conscience.
Sliding in between David’s legs, I take his face in my hands and kiss him tenderly on the lips. As the hunger sets in, David’s hands roughly feel the contours of my body. I’ve been so busy getting back into shape that the results are already paying off.
“I want to fuck you so badly. It’s been weeks. I don’t know how long I can take taking and giving head. I need to feel your pussy around my cock. It misses it.”
I smile against his lips before rising up. “Pull your jeans down,” I order, and David doesn’t hesitate. He’s unbuttoning them and pulling them down within seconds. Even if he thinks he’s only getting a blowjob, he’s still desperate.
Once his cock springs free, I waste no time lifting my dress up and straddling his lap. He frowns, grabbing my hips. “What are you doing?”
I’m slightly hesitant as I don’t know how sex is going to feel not long after having had a baby, but I, too, am feeling ravenous. So ravenous that when I slide gently down on his cock, the moan that escapes me is so loud that it echoes off the walls.
David’s eyes close momentarily on a groan. “I thought we weren’t supposed to—”
“I don’t care if we’re supposed to wait another week. I’m ready. My body feels ready.”
His frown deepens. “Are you sure?”
“I’m
definitely sure.”
“Halle-fucking-lujah,” he sings, making me laugh.
When I start moving, David moans, grabbing my hips. “Fuck, I’ve missed this. I’ve missed feeling you around me. Can I come inside you?”
I nod, kissing him. “I’m on the pill.”
He groans again, closing his eyes as I ride him. “I want to fill you with my seed. Make another baby with you.”
My eyes widen. “We’ve only just had one.”
Squeezing my hips, he nuzzles his head in the crook of my neck, hissing as I thrust harder. “I want more. I want you fucking pregnant with my babies all the fucking time. Shit, Scarlet!” he wails, digging his fingernails into my hips. “I’m going to come quick. Shit, it’s been so long. You need to get off soon, baby, cause I’m going to blow.”
Quickly sneaking my hand down towards my clit, I start rubbing frantically, and it’s not long before I feel an orgasm rising. My movements quicken as I race to find my orgasm, and before I know it, I’m shuddering around him, causing David to find his own release.
As I sit on David’s lap, cupping his head in my hands, I sigh with contentment as I close my eyes.
“I fucking love you, woman,” he says, kissing my neck. “I seriously can’t get enough of you.”
I pull away to face him, nuzzling my nose on his. He silently chuckles as he rubs his hands up and down my back. Already, I want round two. “Want to continue this upstairs?”
His eyes widen. “You don’t need to ask me twice!”
Just as I get off him, we hear James crying. I look across at David, and he’s smiling. “Rain check on that? I have someone else who needs my attention.”
I smile. “Do you want me to see to him?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’ve got this one. Go get yourself naked and ready for me in bed. I’ll join you shortly.”
He certainly doesn’t need to ask me twice either.
Reid
By following officer Fuck Face for the last few days, I’ve managed to find out where he lives, who he fucks behind his wife’s back, and how much he drinks whilst on the job each day. I have photographic evidence of him drinking in uniform, but it’s small fry compared to what he did to me. Knowing my luck, he’ll just get a slap on the wrist, and it’ll be all thrown under the carpet. I need something on him—something that the authorities won’t be able to ignore.
Downing my second cup of coffee for the evening, I sit in my car with my camera at the ready as I watch Fuck Face get out of his own car and walk towards an empty industrial estate in Estepona. It’s night time, so there’s no one here. Whoever he’s meeting must be dodgy for it to be in such a covert place.
As I watch his obese frame disappear round one of the warehouses, I swiftly cut off the engine along with the song “Ride” by Twenty One Pilots. I get out, discarding my coffee cup and poising my camera. I light my phone up and get it ready to record if necessary.
This fucker should never have played with me.
Looking around, I make sure no one’s watching when I sneak up to the warehouse he disappeared round. I need to be careful, so I creep as silently as possible as I near the corner.
“You better get me that fucking date, Africa, or else I’ll send you back where you came from. This is a big hit for me. It could get me the promotion I’ve been after all these years.”
I’m about to take a peek around the corner when I hear his voice responding. “I’m telling you it’s not that simple. I have to get them to trust me more with the information.”
My blood runs cold. It can’t be.
I turn the corner, and the person I hoped I wouldn’t see talking with Officer Fuck Face is in fact standing there, looking dejected.
Fuck.
“You get me that date, and I won’t send you back to where you belong. Got it?”
“Yes, boss,” I hear Akilah answer.
Shit. I need to move.
Like lightening, I run quickly and as quietly back to my car and slouch down, so neither Fuck Face nor Akilah can see me. Another two minutes go by, and I wonder what the hell is going on when Fuck Face rounds the corner and quickly gets back to his car. Akilah soon emerges, and I immediately have this urge to get out and approach him—ask him what the fuck he thinks he’s playing at—but I hold firm. I will deal with him upon my return.
Once Akilah’s also out of sight, I start my car and pull away. I have one of my part-timers, Benji, holding the fort at the moment, but I don’t trust him enough to leave him completely on his own for more than an hour or so. I thought I could trust Akilah.
Now, I’m not so sure.
Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into the bar’s car park and park in my usual VIP spot. I can’t see Akilah’s car yet, but I know he can’t be too far behind.
As I get out of the car, I feel the pressure in the air. I look above me and see clouds gathering. A storm is coming. I hear music booming from inside, which leads me to believe it’s busy already. I can hear the song, and for a moment, it makes me smile. It’s “Disturbia” by Rihanna. Quite an apt song for me at the moment.
I make my way in and see Benji running up and down the aisles trying to deal with all the customers. I quickly rush behind the bar, and that’s when he spots me. “Hey, boss. Glad you’re here.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” I frown, feeling a little miffed by what I’ve found.
“I was handling it. I swear to you it’s only just gotten real busy these last ten minutes.”
I don’t say anything more. Instead, I get to work taking orders and making people drinks. Another ten minutes later, Akilah walks in looking like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.
That makes two of us.
As he catches my eye, I give him a look to say I’m not happy about something. Firstly, though, we need to deal with this crowd.
Without saying a word, Akilah soon joins us, and pretty soon, the crowd which had gathered at the bar to wait for drinks has dissipated. Once there are only a couple of people left, I call to Benji. He looks over. “Take over for five minutes, please.” He nods, so I turn to Akilah. “A word. Now.”
Akilah follows me out back, and once I know we’re out of earshot by the stairs, I turn around. “Why are you meeting with Fuck Face?”
He frowns. “What?”
“Lopez!” I growl.
His eyes widen, making my anger levels rise. “He knows I’m working here illegally. He said he’ll send me back to Congo unless I give him information.”
“Information on what? It better not be me.”
“No, brother!” Akilah protests. “I would never do that to you. Besides, since he stole your money, he says he got what he wanted from you.” I growl, making him pause a moment. “Sometimes, when I meet with my friends for drugs, they tell me things. Things regarding big shipments of drugs coming in, prostitution rings, and other things of that nature. I’m not a snitch, but I also refuse to go back to Africa. The gang that killed my family will know the minute I step onto African soil. I’ll be a dead man before I can even take my first step.”
I nod, understanding what he means, but I’m still angry. “Why didn’t you come to me with this?”
“Because you had your own problems. I thought I could handle it.”
Shifting from one foot to the other, I sigh. “I overheard him say he wanted a date.”
He nods. “Yes. I know they regularly come in with drugs, but the next occasion’s going to be a big shipment. A catch like that would mean—”
“Promotion for Fuck Face,” I say, interrupting him.
“Exactly.”
I shake my head, trying to think. “I need to find a way to keep that from happening. I can’t have him steal my money and then get a promotion. Fucking twat.” My head burns and throbs with just the idea of it. The man’s cost me years of hard work. I’m certainly not about to see him get a step up the ladder. That would be like the proverbial icing on the fucking monstrous cake.
 
; Then, an idea hits me. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. It’s perfect. “Next time you meet him, tell him a date. Any date as long as it’s after a Wednesday. In the meantime, get in touch with your contact. I’d like to place an order.”
Akilah’s eyebrows rise. “What are you up to, brother?”
I smirk back. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
Scarlet
I’ve just landed at Heathrow airport, and I’m impatient to see David and James. It’s been three months since James was born, and now my seventh visit to Spain. I immediately went to work hooking Reid in on my first visit. I must admit, when I purposefully met him at a bar, I was nervous as hell that he would recognise me. He was there—propped up at the bar just like he was all those years ago when I met him for the very first time. The only difference was that I didn’t want to murder him on the spot like I did this time. He hadn’t noticed me when I initially sat down. It was only when I ordered a drink with my practiced Scottish accent that he looked across at me. I turned and smiled at him, but carried on staring ahead at the bar.
“Scarlet?” he’d said.
Acting nervous, I turned to him. “Sorry. Were you talking to me?”
“Scarlet,” he says again, his mouth hanging open like he can’t believe I’m here.
Nervously, I shake my head. “You have me mistaken for someone else. I’m Dr Mercy.”
I notice the frown on his face as he looks away. After a few seconds, he looks back, clearing his throat. “Doctor?”
I offer a small laugh. “Yes. I’m a psychologist from Glasgow.”
He shakes his head like he can’t believe it all. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I thought you were someone else.”
I gestured as if to wave it away when really I wanted to slap his smug face. “Don’t worry. I get that all the time.”
As the barman approaches with a glass of red wine—which I can’t fucking stand—I say my thanks and take a sip, trying my best not to pull a disgusted face as I do. I will really give the game away otherwise.