The Deal (7 page)

“I'm going to go now, dad. I can't handle the bitch looks I'm getting off mum.” I shrug, picking up my bag and throwing it over my shoulder. I take a glance out of the corner of my eye at my mum and she has her mouth wide open in shock. I give my dad a hug and kiss on his cheek.

“You okay, darling? Want me to take to her?” he whispers.

I shake my head and rest it on his shoulder. “No, it's okay, Dad. There's no point. It won't do anything.” I whisper back, planting one last kiss on his cheek before standing up,
“I'll see you next week. See you, mum.”

I don't bother looking at her when I walk past and I don't wait for either of them to see me out of the house. I click the front door behind me, power walk towards my car and jump in, slamming the door shut. I let out a deep breath and start up the car. Sunday's always wind me up and right now, all I want is my bed.

***
 

By the time I return home, Craig is lounging back against the sofa, beer in hand, remote in the other. He smiles up at me and pats the space next to him. I throw my handbag on the armchair and fling myself down next to Craig, cuddling up to him, head on his shoulder. I spot a glass of wine on the table and giggle in glee. Leaning forward I pick it up and let out a deep sigh when the liquid enters my mouth.

“Good choice, husband. Just what I needed after an afternoon with the Dragon!”

“Didn't end up any better then?” He chuckles, kissing the top of my head when I snuggle back into him. I shrug and take another sip, focusing my attention on the animated film on the TV.

“Does it ever when I'm around her? She's never been a mother to me, so why should I continue to appease her? She's put me down since the moment I could walk, and she knows I won't go and tell my dad, so she does it on the sly. I'm used to it by now. When I was younger, I couldn't stand up for myself. Now I'm older and in control of my life, she knows she can't get to me any more.”

Craig knows what growing up with my mother was like. We both bared our souls to each other one night after we were married. He about how his mother's death affected him and how he grew up acting out because he lost her so young. The change in tide happened when it was time to pick a course for university and somewhere, deep down, he knew teaching was for him. He wanted to follow in his mother's footsteps and he wanted to do her proud. Show her that he wasn't the player everyone knew him as.  And he sure as shit proved us all wrong. That he was destined for greater things. His pupils adore him, his friends adore him and I love him.

Due to his confession, I had to confess that I had, more or less, been bullied by my mother since a young age. She tore me down when I didn't want tea party birthdays, when I didn't want to be entered into beauty contests and when I chose reading over boys, I think that was the final straw. Since that day, she has tried to drag me down, lower my confidence and thank God, I had Kelsie to boost me back up. The older I've got, the less her comments affect me. I've had to put on big girl knickers and stand up to her. She doesn't like that very much.

“You have me, yano. Always.  And if we need to bring a bitch down, we will.”

“Know any good spots to hide a body? Maybe a murder weapon too?”  I smile up at Craig, who winks back and elbows me, a twinkle in his eyes.

“I'm sure I could let you in on these areas, Mrs. Thomas, if only to help out my wife. Can't let you bury a body in a shoddy place where the police will find it in an instant. No, I have many an area to hide a body without it ever being found.”

I roll my eyes at his dramatics and chug down the remainder of my wine. “Nice to know you will have my back, hubby.”  I watch his lips contort into his trademark smirk and a dirty mask take over his face. I shake my head at him and point a finger. “Oi, head out of the gutter, you sicko!” I move to get up of the sofa only to be dragged back down, Craig towering over me.

“I have your back with anything, baby. But I'd more than love to cum all over your back, what do you say?” He takes hold of his cock through his jeans, rubs a little then pretends to cum over me, even making the noises to accompany his 'orgasm'.  Flicking his nose, I push him off me and get up from the sofa. I pick up my wine glass and head into the kitchen to pour myself another glass. I know Craig followed me but I don't acknowledge him, don't even take a glance in his direction. I potter around the kitchen, distracting myself from his presence until he has enough of me ignoring him and pulls me away from the sink and into his arms. My hands are full of soap suds and I smile evilly. Knowing exactly what I am about to do, Craig pushes away from me and runs back into the living room where I chase after him laughing. We run around the sofa, Craig trying to dodge while I try to think up a plan to smear the bubbles in his face. We both stop on opposite ends of the sofa, breathing heavily and laughing at the scenario. In an instant, I jump on the sofa and right into Craig's arms, who, catches me before I fall flat on my arse. The shock of me even attempting to play dirty wears off and we collapse back onto the sofa.

With Craig on top of me, I giggle into his chest and wipe my hands over his face while he makes a face and rolls us over so I'm on top of him. I wipe the remainder of the water into his T-shirt then place my head on his chest, his heart beat slowing down after our play. Craig wraps his arms around my body while we lay in silence.

“Nic?” I look up at Craig, leaning my chin on his chest whilst he stares at the ceiling. “Have you ever tried to find out why our parents hate each other so much?”

I tense up.

That was not the question I was expecting.

And this is not the conversation I am looking forward to.

Chapter Five

Nic

I feel him exhale and watch a hand run down his face. “I mean, our families have spent years hating one another, long before we came along, and then they ban us from knowing each other?”

I don't answer, but instead, look at him. This isn't the Craig I have known of throughout school. This isn't the cocky playboy who uses his charm and charisma to get what he wants. . . no, this Craig is showing his vulnerability, his confusion, his pain? I manoeuvre myself off him and sit at the end of the sofa, turning my body to face his. Craig doesn't move, nor does he take his gaze from the ceiling. I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my head on them. Craig looks so unhappy, so lost, almost child-like and in a way this feud has always been in our lives whether we knew the secret or not. We have both been subjected to the hatred for each other's families and as a child you don't give it a second thought when your parents tell you not to do something. Mine told me not to be friends with Craig and that was that. When you're young you just accept your parents reasoning’s and get over it, make new friends to play Hop-Scotch and Kiss Chase with.

But the older I got, the more I asked and got shot down. Got shouted at and told to mind my own business – this all from my mother while my father calmly told me it was best not to ask any more. In the end I just gave up and accepted the fact I was never going to know the secret and I ended up forgetting that I even wanted to know. But it's always going to be hidden in the back of my mind and it's definitely in Craig's.

“Yeah, I used to ask a lot when I was younger, but then I just gave up.” I reply honestly, “They would never tell me anything though, told me to never ask them what happened.” Craig's eyes find mine and the blue breaks my heart. We've never spoken about our parent's loathing of each other, never wanting to bring it up. I didn't even know how to bring it up, it seemed to be something that was forbidden to talk about...seeing as we are only together for 12 months. I have to swallow hard to keep back the sob wanting to erupt at the count down going on in my head. 9 months left. I stop staring at Craig and inspect my nails instead.

“I think it has something to do with your mother.” He whispers and my head whips up, my eyes boring into his. He can't look at me after spilling that confession and I can't stop looking at him. Why would he say that? What has his dad been saying to him about the breakdown of our fathers friendship. Before I can begin firing questions at him, Craig continues,  “I haven’t been told me anything either, but when we found out about the will and the deal we had to make, well, my dad and aunt were pissed, spewing things about how 'she' ruined everything. I don’t know what the feud is about but I am damn positive your mum is involved somewhere along the line. . .”

I blank out Craig and think back to the day the solicitor, Mr. Barry, rang me up. It was a few weeks after I had graduated university and from the small details I could extract from him, the call was down to a will my grandparents had drawn up over thirty years ago. A will which I was written into. After arranging a meeting for the following day, I arrived a little after two p.m. Upon entering the room, I spotted Craig sitting in one of the seats looking as tense as I was feeling. I frowned down at him, confused over why he was here too and then all these different scenarios popped into my head – all of them concerning our fathers.

I took a seat next to Craig and sneaked a look. His hands were bound together on his thighs and he was bouncing his legs in anticipation. He glanced my way and offered me a small smile, which I returned. It was clear neither of us had any idea what this meeting was about, nor what was in the will that seemingly involved both of us. Hearing the door shut and footsteps walking towards us, I tore myself away from Craig and focused on the man in front of us. A brief glance at both of us, some shuffling of papers, and a thick cloud of tension filling the room, Mr Barry, began to explain to us that we were entitled to a huge trust fund that had been building years before we were both born, and, to this day, was still growing. Then he went quiet while looking between the both of us. This only made me nervous and twitchy until he explained exactly what the will was about.

“I know everything about your fathers and the feud they have been entwined in for the past thirty years, and this Last Will and Testament made by both your grandparents together, is so airtight that there is no loophole to what they are asking from both of you. It's also completely confidential and although, considered illegal, they found a way to make it legal if you decide to agree to their terms.”

Confused over what Mr. Barry was spouting his mouth about, I looked to Craig to see an identical look across his face. “I'm sorry, but what the hell are you on about? What's been made legal?” Craig asked, leaning forward on his knees.

Then Mr. Barry dropped the biggest bomb on both our lives.

“In order to obtain the trust funds put in place for both of you, the catch in this will is that both of you are to be married and to live together for a year before you are to be given access to the money.”

I'm pretty damn sure I stopped breathing. The shock cursed throughout me and the more the words ran through my mind, the angrier I became. Being told I had to marry the guy whom I was meant to hate but secretly loved in a fake ceremony for money? I curled up my fists and took deep breaths to calm myself down. No one had said a single word for minutes and I was aware just how awkward it was becoming. I stole a look at Craig who was scowling at the desk and then I put my focus back on Mr. Barry who looked scared to be in our company. I couldn't imagine why.

“When do you have to know if we agree or not?” I figured I would ask, if not to try and make the tension in the room simmer down. I was so utterly pissed and outraged but it was no use screaming and shouting at poor Mr. Barry. It wasn't his fault our grandparents were crazy!

“By the end of next week we would need an answer. If you say yes, then you would just have to let us know the date of the wedding. If it's a no, then the money will remain with us.”             

I closed my eyes and took a long, deep breath before plastering on the fakest smile imaginable. I stood up, smoothed my skirt down and held out my hand. I watched Mr. Barry timidly place his hand in mine and give it a shake. Just a little over nine days to think this deal over and whether we were going to agree to it.

“Thank you, Mr. Barry. Do you have separate copies of the will that Craig and I can go over?” I had no idea how I was staying so calm but all I wanted was the will in my hand so I could leave and drive over to see my father. With a copy each, I slid mine into my handbag and pulled out a business card which I handed to Craig. I had no idea if he had my number or not, but we were in this together now, so we had to be civil.

“We will be in touch.” And with the last word, I strolled out of the office and drove on autopilot all the way to my childhood home.

By the end of the next week, and after getting together and blasting through the contract, awkwardly talking about what to do, what the other wanted to do and hours of going back and forth, Craig and I had made an executive decision.

We were getting married.

And that did not go down well at all.

But now, here we are, trying to drag the past back up and figure out the secret that led to the destruction of two best friends and it's something that I don't want to talk about. I rub my temples, a headache coming on and I take a deep breath. I get up from the couch and head into the bedroom. I pull back the covers, climb in and bring them up and over my body so I am tucked underneath. My heart hurts so much. On the one hand I want to believe that my mother has nothing to do with it, but at the back of my mind, I know she does. Why would she hate this marriage and situation so much? Why does she grill me every week and scowl at the mention of the wedding or my phone going off? My father just lets it all go over his head. He doesn't like this situation but he doesn't push it as he knows it's not long until it's over. On the other hand, I have loved Craig since I was a teenager. He has, and always will have my heart regardless of if I tell him or not, but we have less than nine months left and my heart is breaking every day, the closer we get to the end.