Bang Gang

His tattoos had grown somewhat since I’d last seen him naked, the work on his arm reaching up to his shoulder and snaking round to the back. There were more, too. More tribal pieces on his side. One on his hip that disappeared under the towel and away from my prying eyes.

He stared at me staring at him, and I was burning, trapped.

“Jo,” he grunted.

“I, um… wanted to talk…”

He tipped his head for me to follow him, and my mouth turned dry as he headed to the end of the corridor and the room that was once ours. I followed in silence, propping myself against the doorframe as he rooted for clothes. He pulled out a tux I’d never seen before. It wasn’t the stiff old one he’d worn to Aunt Beth’s wedding, that was for sure.

“Girls alright?”

I nodded. “With Nanna.”

He laid the tux on the bed. “I’m off out. Got a gig.”

My stomach lurched at his words. “Yeah, sorry. I won’t be long. I was just…”

He met my stare and my nerves caved. I turned away to save his modesty, but he let out a low laugh.

“Christ, Jo. Don’t be a fucking prude. You’ve seen it all before.”

But I hadn’t. Not like this.

I looked back just in time to see him tug the towel from his hips, and I was stuck there, gawping at the thickness of his thighs… of his toned calves… of his… his…

“Fucking hell, Jodie. You’ve gone redder than a baboon’s arse.” He took his cock in his hand, and he was smirking. “Dunno why. You’ve definitely seen this before.”

I made myself blink, and cleared my throat as he dried himself down.

“I wanted to say thanks,” I said. “For the washing machine… I really appreciate it…”

He shrugged. “Text would’ve done.” It was his turn to check me out, and I could’ve shrivelled into nothing. Whereas he’d turned into some kind of muscular Adonis since we’d last fucked, all those years ago, I’d turned into a village mum. My hair was crap, and I knew it. My skin was pasty and plain without even a dab of mascara. My clothes were practical and… well, they were dull… my nails were short and bitten to shit. Let’s not even get started on what was under my clothes, either. “Spit it out,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know really. I just wanted to… talk.”

He pointed to his alarm clock. “I’ve got ten minutes.”

I nodded.

“Go on, then,” he said. “What’s up?”

I took a breath. “This… this gigolo stuff…” I paused. “Why do you do it? Besides the obvious, I mean…”

He tossed the towel aside and sprayed some deodorant under his arms. “Does it fucking matter why?”

I held his stare. “It matters.”

He groaned, and dipped down, reached under the bed. I could feel my heartbeat in my temples. He pulled out a box, a big wooden thing with a clasp and a lock. “Want the fucking truth?”

“Please.”

“Righto.” He dropped the box on the bed and tossed me the key, let out a sigh. “See for your fucking self if it matters so much.”

My fingers were shaking as they turned the key in the lock. I opened it slowly, carefully, and inside was a picture of our girls taped to the lid. It was a couple of years old, and they were at the beach, smiling proudly at a monster of a sandcastle he’d helped them build. The tide was coming in, but the girls were unaware, still believing their castle would last forever.

I hadn’t been there, but I’d heard them tell the sandcastle tale many times. Many times.

Trent’s box was stuffed full of cash — tens and twenties, some fifties, too.

“For the kids, like I said,” he grunted.

I was taken aback. “But you support the kids already… they don’t need…”

He shook his head, and his expression was heavy. “University.”

My heart dropped, and I knew exactly where his head was at. “Darren, you don’t have to…”

He held up a hand. “I want to. For Mia.” A soft smile flashed across his lips. “She’s smart… Clever, like her mother. She should go to university.” He paused. “Like you should’ve gone…” The thought smarted, and he saw it. “If we’d done things by the book… if we’d…”

I nodded, but didn’t say the words aloud. I’d been just sixteen when I’d fallen in love with Darren. Seventeen when I gave birth to his first baby. An accident, but the most beautiful accident in all creation. Mia changed everything for both of us.

He sighed, and pulled on a pair of boxers. “I’m not saying we’re… that we… I wouldn’t change anything. I just want the girls to do what we didn’t.” He paused. “If that’s what they want.”

“A university fund? From gangbang sex?”

He scowled. “Doesn’t fucking matter where it’s from. Point is it’s fucking there.”