Strangers (38 page)

Kate began again.
“Another contradiction.
The sense of dislocation from the—”

“Ah, you wrote the catalogue,” he said.

“Oops, you caught me.” Kate smiled.

Then he turned to face her.
“Hello, Kate.”

The smile on her face disintegrated.
She was freezing from the toes up.
Her brain told her feet to move, but nothing happened.

“You look very like your mother.”

Kate was desperate to escape, but only her heart was moving, going berserk, flailing at her ribs, ripping itself to shreds in an attempt to flee.

“What do you really think of ‘Wall’?”

“It’s crap,” she choked out.

He smiled.
“Still my stroppy little girl.”

Kate couldn’t breathe.
Invisible fingers had wrapped around her throat.
She wondered if she was going to pass out.

“I remember taking you to the National Gallery when you were knee-high and you walked round saying ‘like that’ and ‘don’t like that’ in a loud voice.
Do you remember?”

“No,” she lied.

“One of my pieces is over there,” he said.

Kate’s head spun round, and the breath rushed into her throat.
“I thought you were painting straight onto plaster?”

“Right, you’ve seen Charlie Storm’s place.”

She looked at the picture, called “Tree Down”.

“Did you recognize my style?”

She hadn’t seen it.
The one painting Rachel had been waiting for and if it had been there, none of this would have happened because Kate would have known not to come tonight.
Without her realizing, he’d taken her arm and walked her over to his work.
She looked at it carefully.

“It’s very good.” A violent picture of a fallen tree, branches broken, limbs twisted as though it was a living thing writhing in agony.
All his work was tormented.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” he said.
“Look, I want to talk to you, sweetheart.
Do you think we could go somewhere and have a chat?”

She wanted to tell him not to call her sweetheart.
“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Now that she could move, she edged backward, but he followed.

“I came tonight because I knew there would be a lot of people around.
I didn’t want to frighten you.
I wanted to see you today because I wanted to wish you happy—”

“No,” she said, turned and walked into Charlie’s arms.

“I want to go now.” She propelled him toward the door.

“Don’t you want me to buy anything?” he asked in bewilderment.

“No, just go.”

As they weaved their way out of the gallery, he caught hold of her shoulders.
“What’s the matter?
Is it that guy you were talking to?
Has he upset you?
Want me to thump him?”

“Take me back to your place.” Kate was unable to think beyond dragging Charlie as far away from the gallery as she could.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” he pleaded.

“I will, but I want to go.”

She didn’t speak in the cab, but pressed herself into his arms, glancing back repeatedly to see if they were being followed.
Charlie stayed quiet and just held her.
Once she was in his house, Kate made him go round and make sure the doors and windows were locked.
She knew she was being paranoid, but couldn’t help it.
She stayed on the stairs while Charlie checked.
Kate leaned against the wall, trying to sink into it.

After several minutes, he returned to sit next to her and took hold of her hand, pressing her knuckles to his lips.

“Okay, Fort Knox is secure.
The only danger is from me and that’s not inconsiderable, particularly if you don’t tell me what the fuck is wrong.”

“I lied.
My father’s not dead.
That’s who I was talking to.”

Charlie took a deep breath.
“Why did you tell me he was dead?”

Kate pressed harder into the wall.
“Because when I was seven, he killed my mother and he nearly killed me.
I wanted him to be dead too, so I said he was.
I made him dead.”

“Bloody hell.” Charlie rubbed his lips against her hand.
“What happened?”

“I was in bed.
I heard my parents arguing and went downstairs They were in the kitchen.
My father had a knife in his hand, and he was covered in blood.
Just covered in it, like someone had thrown a bucket of the stuff all over him.” She took a deep, shaky breath.

“My mother was yelling, screaming, waving her hands around.
There was blood all over her, too.
I ran straight at them, grabbed hold of Dad’s arms and Mum tried to pull me back.
We were all struggling.
I remember slipping and being yanked up by my hair.
There was this thump high up on my back and I fell again.”

Kate fixed her eyes on a speck on the stairs.

“Your scar.”

“I came round in hospital.
A policewoman sat by my bed.
They didn’t tell me straightaway, but when no one came to see me, I knew.
A woman in a pink suit turned up and said my mum was dead.
My dad lay unconscious in another ward in the hospital, but they were going to arrest him.
They’d wanted to find a relative to break the news to me, but there wasn’t one.
No grandparents, no aunts or uncles so I was taken into care.
I testified at my father’s trial and he went to prison for life.”

“Jesus, Kate.”

She turned to look at him.
“Only life doesn’t mean life.
He’s been out for quite a while.”

“Has he tried to contact you before?” Charlie put one of his hands on the back of her neck, hugged her to his chest and kept the other hand holding her fingers.

“Yes, but he knows I won’t see him.”

“Why not?”

“What could he say to me that would make any difference to what I think of him?
He destroyed my life.
I was mute for six months and wet the bed for a year.
I lost my world.
Everything had been taken away from me—my family, home, toys, friends, school.
I hated everyone, blamed everyone.
I was the child of a murderer.
Can you imagine how the other kids treated me?
I moved from hurt, to hate, to anger and got stuck there.
I destroyed everything I was given.
It was no wonder no one wanted me.
I wouldn’t have wanted me.”

Charlie sighed.
“Why do you think he came to the gallery?
Was it a coincidence?”

Kate glanced up at the ceiling.
“No, I think he’s known where I was for a long time.
He had a picture for sale in there.
It came in late otherwise I’d have known to stay away.
He wanted to confront me tonight in front of people so I couldn’t make a scene.
He painted your ceiling.”

“My ceiling?
How do you know?”

“See the demons’ curly tails with the three prongs?
He used to put those on drawings he did for me.
He’s always been a painter.
He painted in prison and his work was sold to raise money for charity.
He made quite a name for himself.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Charlie whispered.

“His lawyers contacted me and offered me money.
That’s how I bought my apartment.
I thought I could change my life.
No more men like Dex.
No more shabby bed-sits in dangerous areas.
I decided he owed me that.” She wriggled under Charlie’s arm.
“How did it go today on the chat show?” Kate hoped he’d let her change the subject.

“You didn’t watch?”

“Everyone was out.”

“I’m going to buy you a TV.”

“I don’t want one.
I’ve got better things to do.”

“Such as?”

“Let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you.”

“You’re trying to distract me.”

“And is it working?”

“What do you think?” Charlie kissed her.

His hand slid up her thigh, under her dress to her pants.
He slipped his finger under the edge of the material and ran it around until he reached the damp, soft place between her legs and she trembled.

“I don’t want to talk anymore, Charlie.”

“Neither do I.”

She just wanted to forget.

Charlie made her squeal as he swept her into his arms and carried her upstairs.
Kate squealed again when he pretended to stumble on the last step.
He put her down on the landing, slumped beside her and groaned.
“You weigh a ton.”

“Bet I could carry you.”

His gaze met hers.
“Bet you can’t.”

Kate sprang to her feet, spread her legs and braced her arms against the wall.
“Jump on.”

Charlie laughed.
“What an offer.”

“Come on,” Kate urged.
“Just don’t throw yourself on me.”

“You’re no fun.”

She steadied herself as Charlie slung one leg over her hip, then locked her knees as he put his hands on her shoulders and lifted the other.
He was heavy but not too heavy.
Kate pushed herself away from the wall, reached back to hook her arms around his legs and took a shaky step.

“Okay.
You’ve proved your point.
Let me down before we kiss the floor and get carpet burn in an unsexy way,” Charlie said.

Kate gritted her teeth and staggered toward his bedroom.
Charlie’s hand snaked over her shoulder onto her breast to tweak her nipple and she let out a muffled groan.
“Cheating.”

The door to his room.
Ten steps to his bed.
She could do that.

“Take me a couple of times around the room, horsey,” Charlie said.
“Oh I wish I had a whip, you lazy animal.”

Kate collapsed facedown on the bed with Charlie still plastered to her back, humping her butt.

“Oh no, Lucky Lady has fallen at the first hurdle in the bedroom stakes,” Charlie shouted.
“Her rider is trying to rouse her.
Will she have to be put down?
Is that plucky guy on her back uninjured?
Yippee, the handsome, talented jockey is back on his feet.” Charlie stood up.
“But he’s concerned for his mount.
Will she ever be fit to ride again?
He’ll have to check.”

He tickled her legs and Kate tried to squirm across the bed.
Charlie pulled her back, unfastened her dress and pulled it off her shoulders.
She heard the hitch in his breath and knew he was taking in the white underwear, the multi-stranded, many-beaded back on the bra.

“No broken legs.
That’s a relief, but further examination is most certainly required.” Charlie tugged the dress down and off her legs.

“Aarrggh,” he moaned.
“White lace thong.”

Kate sighed as he removed her shoes and kissed her toes.

“Steward’s enquiry on the result of the 10:40 p.m.
at the Islington race meeting.
Cheating suspected.
Doesn’t appear to be a horse at all.”

A moment later, a naked Charlie lay plastered against her back, the hard length of his cock pressed into her butt, the wet tip tickling her above the band of the thong.

“Not into sex with animals then?” Kate asked.

He laughed in her ear.
“I’d gone as far down that path as I thought safe.” He shifted to one side and rolled her over with him.

“Oh sweet Christ,” Charlie whispered.
“What the hell are these?”

Kate didn’t think he needed an answer.
She’d cut out and sewn the crotchless thong earlier in the evening before she’d left with Lucy.

“Men pants,” he said.
“You bad, bad girl.”

Kate sighed as he trailed his finger around the edge of the lace heart that framed her sex.

Charlie slipped a finger inside her.
“How come you’re always wet?”

“How come you’re always hard?”

“At least no one can see you’re wet.
The moment I’m near you, I’m scared I’m going to get arrested.
It’s all your fault.”

Kate smiled.
Charlie sank his finger in and out of her pink folds, his thumb working her clit at the same time.

“I really like these panties.
If you wore these when we were out, we could have some fun.”

He slid down the bed and pressed his face to the gap in the material.
The moment his tongue touched her, Kate trembled.
Tongue, lips, finger, thumb and Kate felt the unraveling begin.
Tiny tremors in her core grew larger, spreading until her breathing became shaky and her vision shimmered in sparks of light.
The feel of Charlie’s head between her legs, his soft hair brushing her thighs, his tongue surging into her, the purposeful intent as his thumb strummed her clit over and over drove Kate faster and faster until she stampeded into oblivion.

“Oh God,” she gasped and as Charlie grabbed her hands and squeezed tight, Kate fell into blackness.

When she opened her eyes, his face was inches from hers, his chin and lips glistening with her cream.
Kate snuck out her tongue and licked his mouth.
A moment later, they were kissing as if they hadn’t seen each other for weeks.

Charlie eventually pulled back and pushed up her legs.
“You taste delicious and you look divine.”

He rocked his hips and teased her sex with the head of his cock.
Not pushing in, just pressing against her.

“Sometimes I wish I could just do this all day,” he whispered.
“Like one of those automatons.
Drive us both crazy.”

Kate wanted him inside her and tried to rock into him.

“No you don’t,” Charlie said and changed the angle of his slide so his crest hit her clit.

“Yes I do,” Kate tossed back and slung her legs over his shoulder to yank him down.

Charlie’s cock popped inside her wet folds and he frowned.
“I thought I was in charge.”

“You are,” Kate lied.

When she crossed her legs around the back of his neck and pulled him down hard, he shot all the way into her with a surprised gasp.

“You little…”

“What?” Kate asked.

Charlie groaned as she flexed her hips up into his.

“Little angel.
Except…”

“Except what?”

“I’m not sure I can move.”

“Well try.”

He brought his knees nearer to her backside and Kate loosened her grip on his neck as he pressed his body closer to hers.
When he began to shunt inside her in long, slow thrusts to bury himself in her body, Kate felt the fullness of his cock, the wider head, and sighed in pleasure.
The weight of Charlie leaning against her made it difficult to breathe, but intensified the sensation of every movement he made.

Kate could feel everything.
The heat of his cock as it pistoned into her wetness, the brush of his ragged breathing, the wet slap of their bodies.
She could smell his unique scent, his arousal, his sweat and the lingering aroma of tangy aftershave.
Charlie’s eyes grew wilder and darker as he moved faster.
He turned to caress the inside of her thigh with his cheek and as his tongue lapped her there, his cock echoed the kiss.