Gentleman Sinner(90)
My spine uncurls quickly, bringing me up into a pretty prim seated position. ‘What for?’ I’m thinking of too many potential reasons why Callum would go to see Jess.
‘The morning-after pill.’
But not that. ‘Huh?’
‘He explained the situation. Figured me being a midwife, I’d have what you’d instructed him to source. I told him I deliver babies, not prevent them.’
I can’t help it, I laugh. ‘Bless him.’
‘The man is a fucking mystery, Izzy.’ She sounds exhausted by it all. ‘He left on a grunt and that was that.’
‘He left?’
‘Yes! I was standing there in a T-shirt and knickers, and he fucking left. I give up.’
‘Was there—’
‘God, yes. I could have exploded, and very nearly did when he wiped a bit of toothpaste from the corner of my mouth.’
‘And he left.’
‘He fucking left.’
‘Ouch.’
‘Tell me about it. He looks at me like he wants to ravage me and talks to me like he wants to strangle me. I’m done. It’s exhausting trying to figure him out.’ She blows out a tired puff of air. ‘But forget about my frustrating shenanigans with Mr Cold. What the fuck is going on?’
‘She’s come round, and she doesn’t remember anything.’
‘Wow. I bet Theo’s pissed off.’
I nod my agreement, though I’d use a far stronger word than that. ‘Slightly.’
‘The poor girl. Who the hell would have the balls to walk into Theo’s club and do that? They must have a death wish.’
I look across the room to the door, pondering Jess’s statement. A death wish. ‘Indeed,’ I say quietly, thoughtfully. Theo’s impenetrable club has been penetrated. The Playground isn’t untouchable. Theo isn’t untouchable. The irony of my silent thought doesn’t escape me. The untouchable man isn’t untouchable. My conclusion just makes me worry all the more, because how long can Theo go under the radar? How long before he’s cut by the sword? ‘What shift are you on tomorrow?’ I ask on a sigh.
‘Early. I should really get to bed.’
‘I’ll call you tomorrow.’ I hang up and tap the side of my phone on my cheek, unable to shake off my thoughts. Untouchable. And I wonder, as Theo lets down his defences to me, is he exposing himself in other aspects of his lifestyle? Instead of his strength, am I really a weakness?
Chapter 23
There’s that moment between sleep and consciousness – the moment when you’re waking up, you’re warm and cosy in your bed, and your brain is empty of everything, except the delicious stretch you’re building up to or the sigh of contentment as you snuggle back down, drifting off into the peaceful quiet of sleep. It’s the moment before you’ve had the opportunity to remind yourself of who you are and what’s happening in your life. And then it all registers, drip by drip, and you spend a few moments, your eyes closed, keeping the darkness, hoping that it’s a dream and you’re still in it. But you’re not. Your eyes open and the drips are replaced with a gush of reminders.
As I stare up at the ceiling, I remember that I’m jobless and absolutely nuts over a man who should be totally unlovable. Except he’s not. Far from it. At least, for me. My head begins to ache, and my heart weighs down in my chest. Is it wrong to love Theo so deeply, to stay and fight for it when I fear it could ruin me? And worse still, ruin him. To push him over the line he so delicately balances on. He told me he felt I needed a warning that he’s fallen in love with me. He gave me that warning too late. I’m in now. And I fear there is no getting out.
My head drops to the side and my despondency multiplies at the sight of the empty space where Theo should be. Not content with seeing the vacant place in his bed where he should be, I reach across and feel his absence, stroking the cold sheets next to me as I turn on to my side. The notion that I might never get to wake up and lay beside him, just watching him in his slumber, brings tears of desolation to my eyes. It’s ironic that of all the things burdening me at the moment, the lack of his closeness is the worst.
I should have gone home last night. Then I would have one less thing to be miserable about this morning – namely, Theo not joining me in bed. He didn’t come to me, cuddle me, comfort me. It’s not very fair for me to be slighted, since I gave him every reason to believe that I held him accountable for Penny’s attack. And it’s not very fair that I blamed him in the first place. I could see his remorse, as plain as the nose on my face. He won’t rest until whoever’s responsible is dealt with. But that simply adds to my growing list of concerns. How far can he push his apparent immunity with the police before everything catches up with him and he’s thrown into prison? Taken away from me?
Sighing heavily, I slide out of bed and slip one of Theo’s shirts on, fastening the buttons as I make my way to the lounge in search of him. Something tells me not to hold out too much hope of finding him, that he’ll probably be going out of his way to avoid my spiteful tongue again. I glance at the clock on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. Nine a.m. My heart sinks. He either didn’t come back at all last night, or he’s left already.
I turn on my heels to go take a shower, trying to find the will I need to get on with my day. But I take no more than two paces, the couch across the room catching my eye. Or not so much the couch, but the sight of a long, seminaked body stretched the length of it. His arm is curled around the back of his head, his face turned into his bicep, and his other palm rests lightly on his stomach, rising and falling steadily with his calm breathing.