The Babysitter(84)

He wanted to confront Cummings in some secluded place, knock his teeth so far down his throat he’d be shitting them for a week. But he couldn’t, of course. If he left the house, he’d come back to find the locks changed. The claims Mel was making might have been based on something concocted in her feverish imagination, but it was all way too coincidental. Mark had no doubt that Cummings had taken photos, and that he’d always intended to use them in some way. But he’d been braced for something work-related. He hadn’t realised how clever the twisted scumbag was, how low he would sink to destroy him.

What hurt most was that Mel was all too willing to believe it. Kerb-crawling? She clearly thought he was on a par with the sick fucker.

Reaching for another top up of the poison, and knowing it would only make everything look worse in the cold light of day, Mark paused, his hand seeking Hercules, lying faithfully at his feet. ‘At least you don’t think I’m a complete bastard, hey, girl?’

Mark stroked her velvety ears as she looked dolefully up at him. It could be worse, he supposed. His shirts hadn’t parted company with their sleeves. Yet. Picking up the bottle, Mark laughed cynically, and then he began to weep.





Sixty-Two





JADE





He didn’t hear her come in, unaware of her presence until she sat quietly down beside him. Mark immediately tried to compose himself, pulling himself upright and taking his hands away from his face. He didn’t want her to see his weakness, as he thought of it; for her to realise he’d been quietly crying when he’d thought there was no one to hear him,

‘It’s all right,’ said Jade, squeezing his hand gently. ‘It’s all right, Mark,’ she repeated, her heart thrumming excitedly as she realised it was time to show him, to reassure him that it would be. ‘We can get through this.’

Closing his eyes, his dark luxuriant eyelashes wet with tears, Mark nodded tightly. ‘Can we?’ he asked, his throat hoarse, his demeanour so very tired as he squeezed her hand back. But then eased himself away and got unsteadily to his feet.

‘Of course,’ Jade said, watching him walk across to the window. ‘We have to think about the children and do what’s best for Mel, but—’

‘Which is?’ Mark asked, drawing a hand tensely across the back of his neck.

Jade hesitated. Put the needy bitch in the mental ward wouldn’t be quite the considered, sensitive response he was looking for. ‘That has to be your decision, Mark,’ she said instead, her tone hopefully indicating that she would understand, whatever decision he came to.

‘I know,’ he said, staring out of the window as she stood up and walked towards him. ‘I’m not sure I can make it, though. The right one, I mean.’

Shrugging disconsolately, he heaved out a heavy sigh and dropped his gaze to the floor.

She wanted to tell him that there was only one decision he could make if he wanted to end the sheer purgatory his life had obviously been for far too long, but… it wouldn’t be a decision a man with a conscience could make easily. Reaching a hand out instead, she trailed it lightly over his shoulders as she moved around in front of him.

‘You have to think of the children,’ she said carefully. ‘I just want you to know, I’m here for you. Whatever you need.’

She smiled encouragingly as Mark looked at her. His eyes were slightly unfocused and full of such obvious torment that Jade felt her heart break for him. It was clear what he needed: someone to hold him, to take him to a place where he could abandon his inhibitions and forget all his anguish. He needed to lose himself, with her, inside her.

‘Thanks, Jade.’ Mark managed a smile back, albeit a smile tinged with sadness – not surprising, given the agony his wife was putting him through. ‘I have no idea what I would do without you.’ He reached out then, placing a hand softly on her forearm and causing every inch of Jade’s skin to prickle with sweet anticipation.



* * *



Jade’s hands trembled as she made him coffee – strong and black he’d said, when she’d insisted on making it for him. He could barely stand up straight, and his eyes were heavy with exhaustion. She was killing him. That bitch upstairs, she was slowly killing him. He wouldn’t leave her, nor would he have her sectioned. He might realise there was no other choice eventually, but Jade was growing tired too. She’d waited too long for him to come back to her. For her sweet little angel to come back to her.

Waiting for the kettle to boil, Jade walked across to the island, where Mark’s jogging top was still draped on one of the stools. Picking it up, she pressed it to her face, breathing in the smell of him, the masculine essence of him, suffused with the woody aftershave he wore. She wanted him. She would have him. She would have her baby.



* * *



He was fast asleep when she crept back downstairs to check on him, his coffee cold and untouched on the table. Standing over him, Jade’s eyes travelled the length of his broad-shouldered physique, semi-naked and bathed in soft moonlight from the window. He cried out as she watched him, struggling with the dark demons that were haunting his dreams.

She would help him chase them away. It was safe to, now that he’d acknowledged his need for her. Jade could still feel the tingle of his fingers brushing her skin, sending shock waves the entire length of her body. It was time. She had to show him. His pain was her pain. She would soothe him with soft kisses, not empty promises. She would stand by him, be there for him, right by his side. A shoulder to cry on. A warm body to comfort him, to make love to. And yes, to take out his frustrations on, vent his emotions, if that was what he needed. She would love him as he needed to be loved.