Kiss a Stranger (19 page)

Chapter Twenty
Never make Ben your enemy

How do you function when you felt dead on the inside?

             
For the first few days I didn’t wake up with the need to puke. I woke up and cried instead. Interesting what a broken heart could do to you, replacing the old wounds from before with fresher, deeper ones.

             
I went through every moment I’d spent with him. How completely in the dark I’d been. All those days he answered calls in separate rooms. All the times he ducked out for errands. What sort of morbid things had he been up to?

             
I thought of all the times he kissed me, felt me, and held me close to him with burning passion. What did those moments really mean to him?

             
I remembered the look in his eyes every time they met my scars. The way he was always desperate to touch them. His fascination for them should have been the warning sign I recognized early on, right? I should have realized how unhealthy and obsessive-like it was for him.

             
But he blinded me.

             
Ben wasn’t the best thing to ever happen to me. He was the worst, most vile thing to ever walk into my life. He was a monster hiding in plain sight, and he was capable of all kinds of evil. He intentionally hurt me. He wanted me to suffer before he acted like the gallant saviour, reappearing in my life like he gave a shit.

             
How stupid of me!

             
As the hours passed, that depression morphed into bitterness that bred anger as strong as my love for him was. What was that anger capable of doing?

             
Without thinking, I grabbed his apartment key and left the house with one motive in mind: find out all about the man I’d been sleeping next to.

*****

I stepped into the apartment, loathing the way it automatically made my body feel protected and warm. I contemplated burning it down so I wouldn’t have to feel that deceptive ease again.

             
I trudged up the staircase and went directly to the second room where his office was. I opened the door and stepped inside, and was immediately assaulted by the smell of him lingering in the air. I ignored the way my heart beat harder in my chest and the dam in need of bursting behind my eyes.

             
It was time I turned those emotions off. That was the only way I could cope.

             
I looked around the room. He had a thick and sturdy jarrah wood desk with a green shade lamp and an assortment of business papers neatly stacked on one corner. Rustic looking bookcases adorned the walls, filled with heavy textbooks that looked ancient, collecting dust.

             
I tapped the spines of bookcases, hoping to hear a hollow sound. I’d seen fake book storages once before in a crime documentary years ago. And with all the revelations that had come to light about Ben, I understood him to be a secretive man, and this was the kind of thing a secretive person might do. It was a long shot, I knew that.

             
When I didn’t hear anything, I went to his desk, opened drawers, and leafed through the papers on his desk. All to no avail.

             
If he’s a damn good master at secrecy, he won’t be hiding shit in his apartment, dumbass.

             
Yeah, well, it was worth a shot. Hardman probably would have asked me to do this and –

             
“Ben’s not fond of snoopers.”

             
I jumped and turned around, instantly feeling so fucking stupid for not checking to see if Jamie was around.

Because
he was, and he’d just caught me red fucking handed.

             
Wearing jeans and the same black leather jacket, he was leaning against the doorway, hands in his pockets. Staring at me with those sizzling blue eyes, I didn’t feel the threat of what I’d just done lurking in their depths. He looked surprisingly relaxed and maybe even… amused?

             
“Hi,” I stammered out, fidgeting as I shut the desk drawer and crossed my arms. “I was um…”

             
He waited a beat and smirked. “You were um, what?”

             
Too anxious to respond, I just stared stupidly at him.

             
“What is it that you’re looking for exactly?” he asked, before adding swiftly, “And don’t lie to me either. Us Costigans are very good discerners. So tell the truth, darling.”

             
Tell the truth? How was I meant to do that to Ben’s brother? I thought quickly for a moment, wondering if I could somehow merge the truth by omitting the truth at the same time. Totally fucked up idea, but I was running on borrowed time.

             
“Trying to get to know your brother,” I said to him.

             
“You’ve been inseparable for a few months now, what could you possibly want to know?”

             
“He’s… reserved. I always feel like he’s holding back around me. Getting him to tell me anything too personal is impossible.”

             
“And you thought you’d find it in the drawers of his office room that he hardly frequents?”

             
Well, fuck, this guy was cracking down on me like it was sport to him.

             
“Well, I’ll have you know he gave me his key here,” I replied edgily. “I doubt he cares if I have a look around. That’s what girlfriends do. Besides, where else was I supposed to start in getting to know him?”

             
Jamie’s smirk intensified, and he gave me a look that made me feel stupid. “How about his brother for one?”

             
“Are you more open than him?”

             
“Oh, yes,” he said, skimming me up and down. “I’m very open, Claire. Whatever you want, I’m more than happy to give.”

             
I raised a brow at his flirtatious remark. What a peculiar man. Was he just as bad as Ben? I reflected on his words to Ben, about wanting to take over his role. Ben’s refusal had really irked him. But was it enough to resent him?

             
“So what would you like to know?”

             
When he pushed off the doorway and walked into the room, I felt nervous and caged in. He was a lot broader and fuller than Ben, and that arrogance was impossible to miss. He had troublemaker written all over him, and I couldn’t help but think his calm and steady composure was a façade. I was quite certain he’d make a move on me if he thought he could get away with it.

             
His question prompted all of my own I’d had of Ben, and it wasn’t hard finding one to ask straightaway.

             
“Why doesn’t he drive?” I asked.

             
“You’re asking the wrong thing first,” he replied, tapping his fingers against the spines of books the way I had. God, had he been there the entire time watching me?

             
I frowned. “What am I meant to ask first?”

             
“The next question is meant to be your first.”

             
Confused, I said, “The next one is about your parents.”

             
He smiled and eyed me roguishly. “Precisely.”

             
What the fuck?

             
“Did he tell you how they went?” he then said.

             
“Car accident.”

             
“Wrong. Well, sort of. Car bomb is more accurate.”

             
My brows shot up. “What?”

             
“My father had enemies, even those closest to him were conspiring against him.” He eyed me warily now, cocking his head to the side. His double meaning was not lost to me.

             
“Did it happen here?”

             
“No. It happened abroad many, many years ago. We went on a holiday. It was their wedding anniversary we were celebrating. They went out for the evening one night, had invited Ben to join them for dinner as I wasn’t feeling well. He declined, and moments later…
BOOM
.”

             
He let me soak that in for a minute, and once again I tried to keep my emotions disconnected from me. I knew if I opened the floodgates just a tad, I’d be pitying him. The guilt he’d have carried for choosing to stay behind would have been unbearable.

             
“He’s been thoroughly counselled about it,” Jamie reassured me. “It doesn’t bother him on an emotional level anymore. But it’s left him a little paranoid.”

             
“Does he have a reason to be paranoid?”

             
He shrugged absently. “I suppose, if we’re going to take into consideration he pisses anybody off.”

             
“And has he pissed anyone off?”

             
“No. Up until you, he’d been very disciplined and focused.”

             
“And why has that changed with me?”

             
“Because you mean something to him.”

             
Yeah, I’m just his morbid scar-faced fetish.

Ignoring his last line, I stated,
“So he doesn’t drive or get into a familiar car because of his parents’ death.”

             
“That would be the lasting effect, sure.”

             
“And what has their death done to you?” I asked curiously.

             
That smirk lost its intensity, but his gaze was still locked up tight to mine. “Definitely not paranoia. And we’re not talking about me.”

             
He took a few steps closer to me, and I backed up to keep him a safe distance away.

             
“Have I answered all you need to know?” he said quietly.

             
No, but I nodded anyway.

             
“Good,” he said, moving in closer. “I’m going to say this once because I don’t think it needs repeating. Ben loves you. Don’t abuse that love, because just one act of betrayal will turn your lover into your enemy. And let me tell you this from the sincerest part of my rotten heart,
never
make Ben your enemy.”

             
He didn’t wait for me to respond, but for a split second I did see the sincerity in him. He cared for his brother. That much was clear. But what the hell did that mean to me anymore? Jamie obviously didn’t know about the ugly that resided in his older brother, and I wasn’t going to be stupid enough to tell him all about it.

             
Besides, maybe he was just as good of an actor as him. And judging by what he said to me once, I was certain he knew about his brother’s taste in scarred women.

He tur
ned away from me and was nearing the door when I said, “Jamie.”

He stopped and looked back at me.

“You said he likes broken things. What did you mean?”

Jamie shook his head. “
Nothing. I was drunk. I would have said anything to piss you off.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Liar.

He walked out, shutting the door behind him. I collapsed into the office chair and rubbed my chest where my heart was still thunderously beating away. It took me thirty minutes to summon the courage to leave, and by then Jamie was gone.

Chapter Twenty
-One
Revenge

PRIVATE NUMBER CALLING

             
I stared at my flashing, muted phone. Once upon a time those words on my screen would have made me jump up and down with excitement. Now I just felt disgusted. I had no desire to answer. The last thing I wanted was to hear his voice. He was oblivious to my week of turmoil, and there was no way I could be around that ignorance and pretend all was fine and right.

             
I turned the phone off and threw it in the drawer of my desk. Then I continued cleaning the room I’d smashed to bits a week ago. After I finished, I went down to the kitchen and grabbed a can of soda and the leftover pizza box Emily ordered for herself last night. I took it up to my bedroom and, without giving a fuck anymore of what might come up in the morning, I sat in my bed and ate every bit of it.

             
I lay down afterwards to digest and flicked through my Kindle. Deciding on a depressing novel, I read parts of
Wuthering Heights
, trying for the millionth time to connect to Heathcliff and his sadism. I wondered, just as Heathcliff masterfully sought his revenge, if I could somehow do the same to Ben. Could I be capable of pretending all was fine, and would I really enjoy watching his world come crashing down once he was put away for good?

             
Was revenge going to bring me light in the end? Was it going to shed some clarity in the murky waters I’d submerged myself in? Or would I just feel emptier than I already did?

             
Time to find out, Claire.

             
Suddenly a woman on a mission, I put the kindle down and got out of bed. I searched for the card Detective Hardman gave me right before I left the station. I found it in the pocket of my shorts in the laundry pile. I grabbed the phone out of the drawer – ignoring the five missed calls from Ben – and dialled his number.

             
It was time to get even.

*****

You didn’t always have to hear or see something to know it was there. Sometimes your body sensed it long before your mind registered.

             
In this case, my body was aware of him before I opened my eyes and had my first thought. He entered the bedroom and loomed over me. I was on my side, my back to him. I didn’t know how long he stood there, but at some point I finally opened my eyes and stared at the wall, waiting for him to make a move. He didn’t say a word as the sound of his clothes coming off hit my ears.

             
The mattress dipped, and his hand touched my hip. I flinched, and I was sure it was a giveaway I was awake.

             
“Hey,” he said guardedly, his mouth close my ear. “It’s me, beauty.”

             
Beauty.

             
I held my breath and waited for the pain in my chest to pass, but it didn’t. My heart picked up pace and my skin tingled warmly. How could I be feeling such good emotions when everything inside of me wanted to scream and push him away?

             
“I tried calling you to tell you I got back,” he said, running his lips along my bare shoulder.

             
The December summer heat had me in nothing but my singlet and panties. I felt vulnerable, wanting nothing more than to cover my skin so there was a barrier between his touch.

             
“I misplaced my phone,” I lied.

             
He wrapped an arm around my waist and tugged me against his bare chest, further enveloping me in his scent. “I missed you.”

             
Yeah? Didn’t seem like it.
“You didn’t call.”

             
“I couldn’t.”

             
Right. I shut my eyes and tried to endure his gentle touch, knowing already it wasn’t real. He was a lie.

             
His hand dipped below my shirt and his fingers grazed my stomach before descending lower and lower. I flinched when he inched his way into my panties and squirmed uncomfortably. My body both heated in lust and tensed in disgust.

             
“Please stop,” I pleaded in a whisper. My throat closed and tears threatened to surface.

             
He instantly stopped and pulled out. “What’s the matter?” he asked cautiously.

             
Fuck. I didn’t know what to do at this point. I reflected quickly on Hardman’s words.

             
Do not let him suspect you.
              You’re the last person he’s threatened by. Keep it that way.
              Be the same as you were before.

             
“I’m just feeling sick,” I lied again, hoping my voice didn’t give me away.

             
“Not sick enough to eat judging by the pizza.”

             
“It’s because of the pizza. Stomach ache. And I’m worried any motion will make me throw up.”

             
“Is it too much motion to ask you to kiss me?”

             
I gingerly twisted my head and felt his cool mouth over mine. His hand touched my face delicately as he kissed me. He was so gentle about it, and it twisted me even worse.

When he finally pulled away,
he whispered, “I missed these lips.”

“I missed yours too.” Half of a lie.

I went back to my position and prayed for sleep. I wouldn’t survive the night if he expected more from me.

             
Thankfully he didn’t, but his grip around me never loosened even long after he fell asleep. He held me like I belonged to him, and for a moment I pretended this last week had never happened. I wanted to pretend for a minute that he wasn’t responsible for my pain and that he hadn’t marred someone like he marred me. He could never offer an explanation that I’d forgive, but in a way I wanted to give him the opportunity. There was so much to be said and it sat at the tip of my tongue, but I had to keep my mouth shut.

             
Because at the end of the day he
was
a criminal.

             
And he had to be put away for all the hurt he was responsible for; mine and all the women he destroyed before me.

*****

I pretended to be happy the next morning. I threw on a black and white skirt and white top. He changed into clean clothes out of his suitcase and we went out for breakfast. We found a nice place nearby and ate at a table outside. The heat was oppressive, but the overhead cover offered some cool shade.

             
“How was your trip?” I asked him, forcing a smile.

             
“Long,” he answered. “It’s good to be back and with you.”

             
I could hardly look at him eat while I kicked around my food. This fucker had no idea I knew everything, and looking at him felt like a kick in the gut. My body trembled. I wanted so much to inflict pain on him the way he did to me.

             
But I just plodded on through.

             
“How’s your mother?” he then asked.

             
“Good.” Having cut myself off of everyone, I hadn’t talked to her in over a week, but the move had made her really happy. I was sure nothing changed in a week’s time.

             
“So I have a confession,” I declared, trying not to get annoyed by his constant need to stare at me. It made me constantly aware of my façade, and the amount of times I caught myself beginning to glare at him disturbed me.

             
“Is that so?” he said with a smile. “What is it, little lady?”

             
Little lady.
I wished he’d stop with that stupid nickname. It wasn’t cute. It wasn’t endearing. I hated it now.

             
“Well, you gave me your apartment key and… well, you know how what happens when you give a woman your key, right?”

             
He chuckled, and even that sounded like a fucking wailing dog. “I take it you went to my apartment?”

             
“And?”

             
He shrugged. “Snooped?”

             
I nodded slowly. I had to bring this up. He needed to hear it from me in case Jamie opened his bloody mouth and beat me to it. And if it was said by him first, that would have made Ben suspicious. And what was Ben like when he was suspicious? I didn’t want to know.

             
“Yes,” I admitted coyly. “I did. I went everywhere, including your office. It was only after Jamie found me that I felt so guilty. Then I realized you might be very upset by that –”

             
“You were alone with Jamie?” he interrupted, all humour gone.

             
“I didn’t know he was there.”

             
“So you were.”

             
“Well, yes.”

             
A look of anger flashed through him, and it made my insides coil. How had I ever found this man attractive when his anger was set off so quickly?

             
“What happened between you two?” he then asked, tightly.

             
Now I was genuinely confused. “We just talked.”

             
“About?”

             
“I wanted to know about you and he offered some explanations that helped.”

             
He abandoned his food and looked away from me, balling a hand tightly. “Why couldn’t you come to me for
explanations
?” he then let out, angrily.

             
“You never say anything. It’s always some reserved response –”

             
“So you go behind my back and look for answers from my brother?”

             
My heart spiked. I nervously said, “He offered, and… at that point I was too curious to pass it up.”

             
“And what did my
admirable
brother tell you?” he demanded bitterly.

             
I couldn’t meet his eye when I muttered, “He told me what happened to your parents, and the reason you don’t drive.”

             
The silence that followed stretched on for minutes. When I willed myself to peek at him, that anger from before was gone. In fact, his walls were too. He looked lost, and it was startling to witness him so sad.

             
“I should have died with them,” he muttered reflectively. “It should have been me. I’d rather it was me if it meant not seeing that hole in the earth. Everything burnt.
Dead.
I got this just by trying to sort the mess out.” He pointed to the scar above his eyebrow, and then he showed me the scars on his knuckles. “And these. Sharp, burning bits everywhere. The shrapnel cut into my knuckles as I desperately tried to sort through the mess. Millions of pieces of metal and burnt flesh everywhere, and you could smell it in the air. Pungent and overwhelming. You could never escape that smell. It still follows me around like a shadow.”

             
I didn’t move. I don’t even think I blinked. The look of pain on his face tore me to pieces, and I hated that it wrecked me. I kept scolding myself to pull it together, to not feel, yet he looked so human, and so like the man I fell in love with.

             
What was wrong with me?

             
I rested my hand over his, cringing and seeking it at the same time. “It shouldn’t have been you,” I lied, because it should have. If he’d died, my life would have been whole.

             
Ben looked into my eyes just then. For a second I thought he caught my lie until he grasped my hand tighter and said, “I never wanted the life that was handed to me. It fell into my lap. It had always been set for me, but I want nothing to do with it. I want out, and I don’t have to start over here. We can do it somewhere else. Nothing stopping us. You’ve finished your schooling. I can leave everything to Jamie. And we can get away from here and find some tropical paradise to live in.”

             
We.

             
I tensed in my chair. “Where would we go?”

             
“Anywhere you want.”

             
I tried not to look warily at him.

             
“Morocco,” I said with a faint smile. “You said you loved it there. That’s where I’d go on the first leg of our journey.”

             
He smiled back, disarming me with what I would have thought was genuine affection. But now it seemed like a smokescreen for something else.