Scorch (Virtues & Lies 2)

Murphy’s footsteps are quiet behind me, but I can feel him following. Probably letting my husband know that he’s managed to worm his way in.

It’s raining, and although the builders have covered the exposed roof, water still trickles in. Each drop echoes around the empty house, reminding me that it isn’t the home I dreamed it would be.

Taking each step downstairs slowly, I stop at the sound of Christopher’s gruff voice.

“I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“She’ll flip her shit. I hope you’re ready for that.” Casper stands from where he’s sitting on the bottom step.

As quiet as I can, I try to go back up the steps to the supposed to-be bedroom, but my brother’s eyes meet mine before I can back up a single ste

p.

His eyes flit back towards the hallway before he looks back up at me, shaking his head imperceptibly. When I back up around the bend to the next flight of stairs, I sit, and hugging my overnight bag to my chest, I wait to hear whatever else is said.

“He’s back. She doesn’t go near that motherfucking club. Do you understand?”

“How do you suggest I keep her away from there?” Murphy bites back, and I can’t help but smile that he’s fighting my corner in his own way.

“I don’t know. Buy her a pizza. Buy her a hundred fucking pizzas. Fuck, tie her to the bloody scaffolding for all I care. I don’t give a flying fuck how you do it. Just. Keep. Her. Away. If she goes near that cunt one more time…”

Dropping my overnight bag from my lap, I jump to my feet. Taking each step down heavily, I push past Casper until I’m standing in front of Christopher, a few feet away at most because there’s no fucking way he’s looking down on me today.

“If I go near him one more time…what?” I hiss up at him as he takes a drag from his cigarette.

He does it with churlish satisfaction too. He knows I don’t want him smoking in the house.

His navy suit is rumpled and creased as he stalks towards me with a feral glint in his eyes. Like a predator herding his prey.

I’m not scared of him. He’s never given me reason to fear him. And it doesn’t matter how deeply he scowls at me, or how he bites at me with his words…I will never cower from him.

Standing over me, he exhales the pull he took from his smoke. “Careful, wife. I might start not giving a fuck. And that is a dangerous position to find yourself in.”

Heart dropping to the pit of my stomach, I meet his eyes. Hurt and anger colour his handsome face, shadowing it with sharp angles. And I already hate myself for what I’m about to do.

“Stay away from him, husband.”

Walking forward, he huddles me to the wall, pressing me to it with his body. He drops the butt of his cigarette to the floor, grinding it with his foot.

His attitude is all bravado. But it still doesn’t make it any less impactful.

“Stay away from Tomasz. He’s mine.”

“He’s a dead man.” Lowering himself to my height, his hand rests on my chest, the V of his thumb and forefinger bracketing my neck. “I’m going to snap his fucking neck, and if you want, I’ll let you watch.”

Schooling my face into an impassive mask, I reach into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and grab his packet of cigarettes. Taking one out without looking away, I lick the filter end to make sure it sticks to his lips when I push it between them.

I take another out and place the packet back into his pocket before reaching into the other side and taking out his grandfather’s lighter. Flicking it open, I light both of our cigarettes.

I take a long drag and breathe it into my lungs before exhaling it between us.

I’m pissed at myself for doing it, but fuck it.

“Try blowing less smoke,” I growl at him, pushing past his hold.

I stride towards the front door, then pause and turn as I pull it open. Murphy is already hot on my heels.

“Catch, baby.”