The Only Choice (The Choices Trilogy #3) (37 page)

I don’t know whether it is deliberate but Kit only comes in to my room accompanied either with Clive or with Angel. She hasn’t spoken directly to me, actually she hasn’t spoken at all and she hasn’t let me use her iPod either. I spend the next few days alternately cursing myself for pushing too hard, too fast and cursing Angel for the fucking relentless music. The next morning Kit comes in alone but her brusque manor means I am not inclined to try and bond again. She places the breakfast tray down and on it is a large brown envelope. As I pick at my food Kit opens the envelope and places it on the bed with a pen. I glance over the legal document with Last Will and Testament scribed in an elegant font on the cover page . . . my heart sinks. Why on earth would I think she would help me, it’s always about the money with her, life is irrelevant, well,
my
life is irrelevant. I pick up the pen and don’t make eye contact as I sign where the brightly coloured markers indicate. I place the pen down and continue eating the tasteless food. She hovers by the door, I am not sure what she is waiting for now but I just have to keep trying to chip away at her.

“I don’t understand Kit, you don’t need this money . . . Ethan loves you . . . he would take care of you . . . you would have money . . . and I would give you every penny . . . I promise—” She laughs but it sounds flat.

“Bethany you know I have never relied on anyone but me . . . I am not going to start now, even if you are right . . . Besides it is out of my hands.” Her face holds all the resignation I feel and the ensuing silence cloaks the room.

She hesitates before walking over to pick up the papers but then shaking her head she stuffs the documents back in the envelope and seeing I have finished she places it on the tray and picks it up to leave. She stands in the doorway looking directly at me, her eyes look sad but I swallow back the laugh just itching to escape, why the fuck would she be sad.

“I called the ambulance.” Her voice is soft but her words are shocking.

“What? What ambulance? An ambulance is coming?” My confused garbled words are rushed but I stop when she shakes her head.

“No no . . . not now.” She draws in a breath and pulls her shoulders back like she is bracing herself to deliver a blow. She is. “I called the ambulance that night John died, I did it straight away. I hated you both but I never wanted him to die. It was a stupid fight that got out of hand you know . . .” She mumbles her excuses. “No one knew I’d made the call but I did it as soon as I could. I didn’t know you were coming but but . . . I am sorry they didn’t get there in time.” I can hear her voice hitch but my ears are fuzzy with overloaded information. “I’m sorry Bets . . . I’m . . .” She snaps her mouth shut when her eyes meet mine, all I see is a fuzzy haze of an image of someone I don’t know at all but who might have tried to save the boy I loved. What the fuck, why tell now?

“I don’t understand, why tell me now? Like I’m not fucked up enough?” I stand and walk as far as I can to get to her, she stands her ground, her eyes fixed on mine. She looks over her shoulder and then closes the door, stepping closer to me.

“I’m sorry, that’s not why I told you.” She sucks in a deep breath and I brace myself again, just how much more am I supposed to take. “I . .I. . Look I just needed you to know that. I didn’t want him to die Bets, it was an accident. He just had to protect your precious reputation, he couldn’t just walk away but but he didn’t deserve to die.”

“No he didn’t.” I whisper.

“You were with him?” My head lifts to meet her curious eyes and I can barely nod and I can feel the plump tears burst on to my cheek. Her eyes look just a little glassy too. “He loved you so much. I think he did from that first day at school. He took you from me then, you never needed me after that and I was jealous. I hated him and I hated you. I hated that you had each other and I had no one.”

I can feel my legs start to tremble and I am having trouble containing the gut wrenching sobs needing to be heard. I swallow the largest lump in my throat; my face is streaming but I can’t find any words.

“I’m sorry Bets.” She drops her head and her words have such finality that I force myself to beg once more, but not for me.

“Kit please, thank you, you didn’t have to tell me that and I’m sorry I never knew but mostly I’m sorry I never knew you. I was five when I met John and I still needed you but you weren’t there, you were never there.” I shake my head because none of that matters and I think she can see that too. “I know it’s too late and you can’t change what’s going to happen and I might just be a huge dumbass to believe you would if you could.” I shake away the building sorrow because I may be the world’s biggest fool but I think she would help me if she could. “But I am going to ask, I have to beg you for something and I need you to promise me. My baby . . .” I suck in a sharp breath because this hurts more than my limited vocabulary could possibly describe. “My baby doesn’t deserve her. Please find a way, after I mean, to let Daniel know. DNA, whatever, it doesn’t matter, if he knows the truth then the baby will be safe and I know he’ll be a wonderful loving father.” I swallow through the intensity of this conversation. “Even at your most cruel you wouldn’t knowingly put an innocent child in the hands of that crazy bitch.” I let out a tight laugh and smile when Kit’s eyes smile back at me. She doesn’t say a word only the slightest nod of her head and I don’t know if she has agreed to my last request but I can hope, it’s all I have left.

I FEEL DISGUSTING,
the lukewarm water does nothing to remove the grime I feel layering on my skin after weeks of being held prisoner and with no shampoo my hair feels no different once its dry so I have stopped wetting it in the first place. What I wouldn’t give for a steaming hot shower, no no a deep bubble filled bath. Yes, lying in a luxurious bath wrapped in soft fragrant bubbles and encased in strong firm arms with dextrous fingers massaging the knots and tightness from my aching muscles. Daniel’s talented fingers. Mmm I wouldn’t care that the massage would end too quickly because I would love the fact that he can’t wait a moment longer and judging by the deep sigh that escapes my mouth I can’t either. His hands would drift down from my shoulders slipping swiftly over my silky soapy skin, delicate featherlike touches until he moves up to cup and squeeze my breasts. A little too firm and just enough to make me arch away from his chest, pushing my head harder into his neck and moaning as my nipples pebble hard and he rubs them between his thumb and forefinger until I cry out and beg for more. He loves it when I beg. The burning ache I feel deep inside starts to build and I try to twist so I can face him, I need to see his face. I need to see how much he wants me because I can’t hide how much I want him. One of my arms is trapped by his and I can’t move, the thumping of my heart is racing like my ragged breaths, louder, louder, thump, thump. Dammit, the first decent dream I have had in this hellhole and my fucking breakfast arrives to ruin it.

Kit enters the room and I can’t help but scowl at her even though I haven’t seen her for a few days and actually I am really pleased she’s here. I really missed her. It is too easy to miss a lot of things and because I have nothing but time I now have a depressingly long list;— the sky, the rain, the noise, the smells, the sounds, simple things like salt in my food and fizzy drinks, a decent cup of coffee, hell a crappy cup of coffee for that matter but the list, as endless as it is, leaves me devastated when all my items are surpassed by how much I miss Daniel. Up until that morning I hadn’t been able to touch him in my dreams. Kit looks a little shocked and quickly places the tray which today is covered by an opaque plastic dome. “Are you all right?” She places her hand on my forehead and I can feel a fresh blush flash across my cheeks, which adds to the flush from my dream. I nod and after she is happy that I am fine and the baby is fine she tips her head excitedly toward the tray. She clasps her hands and is biting back a tell-tale grin. I am a little curious now, this is very strange behaviour for her, unprecedented. She doesn’t do giddy with excitement. I am touched she has started to ask about the baby but I can’t help fear every small change is leading to a fatal case of false hope. I tentatively lift the lid, my mouth drops, my eyes widen and instantly pool with water but not as much as my mouth does at the sight of pure heaven laid on the plate before me.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” I cry out and bounce on the spot with unbelievable joy. “Kit is that? . . .” I pick up one quarter of the white bread sandwich; it crumples and crackles in my fingers.

“Yep.” Her smile is brilliantly wide and genuine and if my arm was free I would hug her but I can’t actually take my eyes of this sandwich. Who would have thought I could be rendered speechless by such a simple food but it’s not an ordinary sandwich. It’s my long forgotten favourite, clearly one of the memories that we shared which didn’t have negative connotations for either of us. Because she giggles too as I moan into my first bite of the gourmet breakfast of cream cheese, cheese and onion crisps and butter sandwich with a glass of full fat milk. I’m in heaven and I don’t say a word until there is nothing left.

“Thank you.” I lick my lips even though there is no longer a trace of flavour left as I have inhaled every bit. She reaches behind her and holds her hand out shyly. The dainty iced cupcake has a single candle and I suddenly understand the significance. Have I really been here over a month because that would definitely suck. It would also mean that today is my birthday. I take the cake because it is a sweet gesture and as crappy as this is for a twenty-first birthday Kit has risked herself by doing this and Kit never risks herself. The cake looks delicious and I realise I haven’t had anything remotely processed for so long I could eat the paper the cake is wrapped in just so as not to waste a morsel. I peel back the paper and take a big sniff, the utter sugar rush from the smell alone makes me smile. I tear it in half but she shakes her head.

“Please Kit, Birthday cake is for sharing . . . pretty sure its bad luck to eat it all myself.” She tilts away with a raised brow and pursed lips at my attempt at a bad joke but she smiles and takes the piece I’m offering. I savour the way the moist cake and sickly icing coat my teeth in gooey clumps and close my eyes as my tongue delights in this new burst of artificial flavour. Forget about the tasty dream I was having because this is culinary eroticism and the fact that I am comparing cake to an orgasm with Daniel just shows how far I’ve fallen. How deprived and depraved I have become. I pick the few crumbs from my T-shirt and suck them off my fingers. “Thank you Kit. Best Birthday ever!” I sit back and laugh.

“Well now I just feel shitty because that is
sooo
pathetic if this is the best.” She shuffles to sit beside me and I jump a little at her unusual closeness but quickly relax because it feels nice and feelings like this are rare. I would be stupid not to take it where I can get it.

“OK not my best but it’s definitely up there.” We are silent for several minutes when she sits straight and I wonder if the intimacy is too much and she will bolt again.

“What was the best?” She looks at me and her big brown eyes are softly smiling, her face is softer too and she looks more comfortable, more relaxed and the fact that she is asking about me, wanting to learn things about me I can’t help but think this has to be good.

“My sixteenth birthday.” I say without hesitation and she jabs me in my ribs.

“Ew I do not want to know about you and John making the beast with two backs on the day you became legal.” She chuckles but I can only reflect how I wish that was the case. I drop my head and rub my finger where the ring I lent to Sofia as her ‘something blue’ has been for the last five years.

“No we didn’t.” I suck in a stuttered breath and I can’t believe this still hurts so much. “I mean I wanted to but he wanted to wait . . . didn’t want it to be because of a date where someone else had deemed it Ok and legal. He didn’t want it to be anything other than for us. Special and and . . .” My throat is dry but I carry on. “He worked, like me and had commitments but was trying to save, he wanted to take me out, you know nice meal, fancy restaurant that type of thing. No matter how much I begged he wouldn’t budge until he had the money to’ treat me right.’ It’s pretty much why I don’t give a crap about money. I mean I needed it for Mum but now, I don’t need so much. You can have it, really. I know you think I take it for granted now but it’s just not important because it meant I never got the chance to . . . I just loved him so much and I . . .” I feel the few tears trickle down my cheek but I wipe them away. I cried enough back then and I remind myself that the day itself was amazing. “Anyway, it was the summer holidays and John had left me clues to find each silly gift he had hidden around the village. I was mad at first because I just wanted to be with him but each gift was special, my favourite sweet, a CD of my favourite band, my leather belt which was his and I constantly stole, silly things I don’t remember them all now but all the clues lead me to our gravestone. I know that sounds weird but it was kind of our thing. We loved to read the headstones, all the people that went before, reading them aloud, remembered and some of the inscriptions were beautiful. Anyway this particular one was so lovely. Just a simple dedication from a husband to his wife.