The Babysitter(73)

‘At your service.’ Cummings winked again and picked up his glass. ‘So, where are you working now?’ he asked, tipping his beer to his mouth.

Jade hesitated for a second, and then decided that, contrary to being put off by her disclosing who she worked for, the cocksure bastard would probably be turned on.

‘For a colleague of yours, I think,’ she said, taking a casual sip of her wine. ‘Detective Inspector Mark Cain and his wife. Do you know them?’

At that, Cummings promptly choked on his beer. ‘Shit!’ he spluttered, lowering his glass and wiping a dribble from his chin. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘Er, yes, I do. He’s my boss.’

Jade noted the look: irritation bordering on contempt, though he tried to hide it. ‘Your boss?’ She widened her eyes, feigning surprise. ‘Oh.’ She paused, chewing worriedly on her bottom lip. ‘I hope that’s not going to be a problem. It’s just, well, I like you, and…’

‘No, no problem. My personal life is my own,’ he assured her, folding his arms as he leaned back in his chair to appraise her once more; the look in his eyes, Jade detected, now one of quiet triumph. He was definitely getting off on the thought of fucking his detective inspector’s babysitter.

And fuck him she would. Entice him to games that even in his most perverted fantasies he wouldn’t have dreamed of. And then she would gain her own satisfaction from presenting herself at the station with substantial bruising as evidence of his sadistic attack. Given his reputation, Jade suspected his colleagues, particularly his female colleagues, would believe him capable of anything. No one messes with my man and gets away with it, soon-to-be-ex detective.

‘Good.’ Holding his gaze, Jade ran a finger around the rim of her glass, dipped it into her wine and then pushed it slowly into her mouth.

No one.





Fifty





MARK





Mark had worried about leaving Poppy and Evie with Mel, even for the time it took to fetch Mel’s tablets. Now he was regretting it bitterly.

‘Mel, for Christ’s sake, open up!’ He banged on the bedroom door again, aware he’d be frightening Poppy, but not sure what else to do. He was frightened. He thought about ringing one of the numbers Dr Meadows had texted him, and felt himself free-falling into a dark place from which there would be no return.

‘Mel, please,’ he begged. ‘Just for one second. I need to talk to you. I don’t want to shout it through the door. The kids…’

No answer.

He could hear Poppy whispering inside. Mel was telling her it was a game. A game! Trying to stay rational, Mark pressed his hands either side of the door and leaned his head tiredly against it. What could he do? Force it? He felt like dropping to his knees and weeping. Who else could he call? Talk to? He’d lied to Edwards – said he was fine, just overwrought, would be back at work within the week. He’d avoided telling Lisa too much in case she tried to talk to Mel, which would only make matters worse.

For the sake of Poppy and Evie, he couldn’t let this go on.

Resigned to make the only call he could, Mark tugged in a deep breath and took a step away. Then the door squeaked open.

‘I want the children with me. They’re staying with me tonight,’ Mel said coolly.

Seeing the gritty determination in her eyes, knowing there was no way to get the kids out of there without arguing in front of them, Mark nodded slowly and looked away.

‘Okay,’ he said, his throat tight. ‘Okay. Just…’ He looked back at her, imploring her, through whatever madness was in her mind, to understand. ‘Please don’t lock the door, Mel.’

Mel didn’t say anything, just looked him over as she might a stranger.

‘I’m terrified there’ll be a fire, Mel,’ he admitted hoarsely. ‘Please, don’t lock the door.’





Fifty-One





JADE





Finding the house in semi-darkness, Jade was intrigued. But finding Evie and Poppy’s rooms empty and Mark sitting on the landing floor, his head resting on his arms and apparently fast asleep, she was furious. What had that pathetic excuse for a wife been up to now?

Jade crouched to gently shake his shoulder, and Mark almost shot out of his skin.

‘Christ.’ He ran his hands over his face and glanced towards the bedroom door beside him.

‘Mark?’ Jade looked him over, concerned. ‘What’s—?’

Mark pressed a finger to his mouth, and quietly eased himself to his feet, gesturing her to follow him to the stairs.

She’d follow him anywhere. To the ends of the earth. The poor man looked like death, he really did. That bloody woman. Jade might bring all this to an abrupt halt and strangle her and be done with it.

His gaze constantly flicking towards the bedroom, Mark outlined what needy Melissa had been up to, telling her about the extra bottles he’d found. It confirmed Jade’s suspicions, she admitted reluctantly, that she had been a bit tipsy on occasion.

‘There’s more,’ Mark said, looking suddenly nervous, as if scared what her reaction might be. ‘The cat…’

‘Felix?’ Jade prompted him, a surge of excitement running through her as she guessed what he might be about to confide.