Seeker (16 page)

Jake raised his eyes at the names. “Bit gay, yeah? Britney.”

Conrad laughed at this. “Funnily enough that was the wife's choice; she's a huge Britney fan, and since I insisted on naming one of the twins after a character in
Deep Space Nine
I kind of had to relent.” He took the picture back and returned it to his jacket. “Surprised that I have kids?”

“Well, no offence, man, but you're
very
gay.”

Conrad didn't take offence at this, he had to admit that yes he was a bit camp and was certainly a pretty boy, but gender had never been an issue for him. “I don't much believe in gay or straight, I reckon people are just sexual. Some have fantasies about men, and some women.”

“And some both?”

“Sure. Sex is sex, and I get different things from men and women, so it's not really that comparative to me. I take it you're not into the women, despite your masculine act?”

Regardless of Conrad's openness about his lack of sexual preference Jake was still a little uncertain, and didn't want to commit himself to any definite answers, so he let Conrad's question slide. He was only here for one thing, and although men were not something he'd really thought about before, his goal tonight was not a lot different from the amount of times he'd gone out to pull women.

Jake watched as two guys retired to the bathroom, and he knew what he had to do. Small talk was fine and dandy, but he couldn't put it off any longer. He looked back at Conrad and nodded towards the bathroom. Conrad raised an eyebrow, and offered a huge grin.

“Thought you'd never ask,” he said, and got to his feet.

He walked across the pub floor, nattering to people along the way, completely unbothered by what he was going to do. Jake followed him, but he held his head low. He couldn't bear to look anyone in the eye right now, receiving nods of recognition from strangers, only confirming how public a spectacle he was making of himself.

The bathroom was like any other pub toilet; smelling of piss, and other more funky smells that Jake didn't want to think too much about. Two guys were in the corner, one with his back against the wall while the other was on his knees before the first.

Jake looked away, feeling something churn in his stomach. A hand grabbed his and he almost pulled it away, but realised in time that it was Conrad who was leading him into a cubicle.

As soon as the door was shut they set to it, Jake pushing himself on to Conrad, his mouth immediately finding the mouth of the other man.

Conrad was tense for a moment, caught off guard by the forcefulness of Jake's actions, but he soon reciprocated and Jake felt Conrad's hands unbuckling his belt. With a gasp Jake almost pulled away from Conrad, but he forced himself to remain, allowing Conrad to bring him to climax with his hand.

Jake opened his eyes to see Conrad smiling in satisfaction, before glancing down at his own opened trousers. Jake followed Conrad's gaze and almost balked at the size of the tackle pointing up at him. But he was committed and couldn't back off, so he allowed Conrad to guide his head down.

* * *

The door of the pub opened with a bang and Jake dashed out. It was raining but he didn't notice, he was too busy walking quickly away from the pub, still doing his belt up.

“Jake!”

He glanced back to see Conrad emerging from the pub. “Fuck off!” Jake yelled back and continued on his way.

He didn't get far before he felt the bile rise in his throat, and so he dived into a darkened alley. He crashed against the wall, no longer able to hold back. The vomit shot to the floor with a splash and Jake leaned against the wall for support.

He had been sure he was doing the right thing. But now he just felt dirty. He didn't want to be gay, he loved his women too much, and he reasoned he could get it out of his system by copping off with Conrad. Once done he could return to Amy, cured of these crazy feelings bubbling inside. Only it had gone wrong.

Tasting another guy's cock in his mouth had been too much; the rough skin of Conrad's hands against his face as he moved Jake's head in a steady rhythm…And then Conrad had exploded his load…

Once again the vomit spewed from Jake's mouth, but this time the wall was not enough to support him. He dropped to his knees with a crack, the puddle splashing water all over his jeans, and he keeled over onto his side.

He remained there, hidden by the darkness, curled into a foetal position, sobs emerging from deep inside, completely oblivious to the rain falling about him.

* * *

“Are you okay?”

Sam looked up from the un-eaten food Lilly had prepared for him.

“Okay? No,” he whispered, “far from it.” He stood up from the couch. “Sorry, Lilly, I'm sure this food is fantastic but…I'm so tired, and my appetite is shot.”

Lilly nodded, the concern in her eyes was palpable. Sam hated lying to her, but he had to deal with this himself. He could never explain to her what he remembered, mostly because it was a jumble of disjointed images, abstract scenes that ignored the concept of cohesion. But remember he did. He needed to lie down, close his eyes, block everything else out.

While Lilly had prepared food they had talked, but Sam's mind wasn't really on the conversation. He watched Lilly, but it wasn't just her he was seeing.

Like some double exposed film reel he was seeing two images at once; the scene immediately before him with Lilly pottering around the kitchen, and a secondary scene playing over that one. He tried to shift his focus from one image to the other, but it was taking too much out of him.

He said goodnight to Lilly, and she said something about a good sleep would probably serve him well. She stopped him as he reached the doorway, and he glanced back.

“Maybe you shouldn't try any more memory exercises, let your past come back in its own time?”

Sam nodded and left the living room, wishing it were that easy.

The sluice gate was open, and the memories were already crashing through like a flood forcing its way past the Thames Barrier. All he needed now was to shut out the images of the present and process these new memories.

Before they drove him mad.

* * *

Amy could not believe the state of Jacob when he finally returned to her flat; not only was he soaked by the rain, but there seemed to be sick down his top. She took him in immediately and helped him to strip off. He didn't resist, and despite her endless questions he didn't utter a single word. He merely kept the same vacant look on his face, his eyes haunted by something.

She ran a shower for him and helped him into it. For a moment he stood there, the warm water running over his naked bulk, and then slowly he moved, as if he was just waking up.

He looked at Amy, and reached out for her. She attempted to pull back, not too keen about getting in the shower in her pyjamas, but he held her arm tight and within moments she too stood under the hot water.

Jacob held her at arm's length, looking her up and down, taking in her own nakedness under her nightclothes, now on full display due to the water soaking her pyjamas into see-throughness.

“Jacob, what is going…?”

He put a finger to her lips so she shushed. “Do you love me?” he asked, his voice a croak.

A question she never thought he'd ask so soon, but there was something in his eyes, a pleading that needed an answer. “I think so,” she said, which seemed to satisfy him.

He embraced her with one arm, while his free hand traced a line down her body, working its way under her pyjama top, his fingers gently probing her navel. Amy let out a breath of air, and slipped off her pyjama trousers, feeling Jacob's hardness against her. All her doubts about him went the way of the water, down the plughole, as he roughly pushed his way inside her.

Within moments her back was against the bathroom wall and he was thrusting away, grunting like some carnal beast, but she didn't mind. He was driven by some need, and Amy was glad it was she that fulfilled his need and not his best mate.

* * *

Lilly still wasn't sure it was such a good idea. Sam had awoken, apparently refreshed for his sleep. This was good news since she wanted to talk about what had happened when she'd got home yesterday eve. Sam was all for talking, and although he didn't remember anything from his blackout he did remember what he returned to.

“But I'm not sure getting into a relationship with you is a good call,” he'd said.

“Why not?”

“You know why. We don't know the person I might be, the life I used to have. For all I know I might be married with kids.”

“Yes,
might
, but we don't know anything for sure. Except the obvious attraction between us. I'm not a stupid woman, Sam, and I'm certainly not prone to allow my emotions to guide me, but in this case I think it's worth the risk.”

“And if I am married?”

Lilly didn't answer immediately. “Then we cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Or fall off it.”

“And if that's what happens then we'll do what we have to. In the meantime it'll be incredibly negligent of us to ignore this potential right now.”

The conversation went around the house like that for a little while, as Lilly got herself ready for her long day ahead. But eventually they both agreed to run the risk. However Sam insisted they take it slow, which struck Lilly as a very sensible thing to do.

What wasn't as clever, to Lilly's mind, was Sam's game plan for the day.

He was going into Southend to nose around, seek out places that were familiar to him to see what kind of feelings and thoughts they inspired. After two blackouts in one day, Lilly didn't think it was a wise move at all, since no one would be around should he blackout again.

“True, but I can't live a life of mollycoddling, I have to stand on my own two feet and do my own thing. If these blackouts are to become a permanent fixture, better I start to deal with them now than later.”

They were sitting on the train, almost at Southend Central, and Lilly was still unconvinced about the wisdom of his plan, but she did like the new assertiveness that Sam was displaying. Like peeling an orange, she was seeing more of the man Sam used to be in increments, and that suited her just fine.

* * *

The bruise on her arm was bad enough, but as she dressed in front of the full-length mirror she noticed bruising by her pelvic bone. The sex in the shower had got a little desperate, Jacob going at it a lot longer than usual; but it was more than desperate, it was almost violent. Amy hadn't seen it at the time, but now as she examined her bruise she realised the truth.

She finished getting dressed into her work outfit, and stood looking at herself in the mirror. Once again she looked like the smart businesswoman she really was, the kind of woman who took control and used her mind to solve problems.

Last night she had let herself give in to a side of her she didn't like, a weaker side, the girl who'd listened in silence as her mother received hit after hit from her drunk husband. Although Jacob had never hit her or shown any inclination to doing so, and although she had willingly given herself to him in the shower, there was an element of violation involved. A viciousness in the act of sex that bothered her. She should have seen it at the time, and stopped it.

By the time Jacob returned from the bedroom, still wet from his morning shower, towel wrapped about him, Amy was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs firmly together. He stopped and looked at her.

“Ready then?” he asked, even though it was quite obvious that she was.

But she was in no mood to humour him. “What happened to you yesterday?”

“I had some things to attend to, I told you that.”

“No, last I heard the police took longer at Will's than expected. After that nothing, until you turned up here close to midnight. And you haven't said a single word since then, until now. So?”

Jacob lowered his head and took a deep breath. “It doesn't matter.”

“Don't you give me that,” Amy said, standing up, and repeated, louder, “don't you
dare
give me that crap! You scared me last night. It was like some intruder had walked in. And you practically raped me,” she added in a whisper, hardly able to believe the words leaving her mouth.

But that was how it felt. She had slept so little last night, lying on the edge of the bed, listening to Jacob's laborious snoring.

Jacob looked up, shock all over his face. “What? No, you wanted it…” He stopped himself, the shame etched all over his face.

You wanted it. You asked for it
. Words so many victims had heard; and Jacob knew exactly how that would make her feel.

“Why…why didn't you ask me to stop?”

“Would you have listened?”

“Of course,” Jacob replied in a whisper, but neither of them believed it.

Silence hung in the air between them.

Amy began, “I didn't ask you to stop because for that time, however violent and painful it might have been, I had you all to myself.” She turned away, unwilling to let him see the hurt in her eyes. “I'm losing you, Jacob.”

Again the only response was silence. She looked over her shoulder, but only for an instant. The sight of tears rolling down Jacob's cheeks was too much. She had to be strong about this.

“This is about Will, isn't it? You're in love with him.”

Finally she had said it, and now the words were out she felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She expected more silence, but instead Jacob virtually roared the words. “I'm not fucking gay!”

Anger was good, Amy could deal with that. She couldn't deal with a hurting Jacob, she had far too much of her own hurt to worry about.

“Then what the hell is going on?” she asked, turning back to face him.

Jacob shook his head. “I don't know. I wish I did, but nothing is making sense. Last night I thought it would, finally. But being with Conrad didn't…” His voice trailed off at the look of disgust on Amy's face.