‘What’s going on?’ Patrick’s voice calls from his desk.
I wave my hand in the air to him and he rolls his eyes, returning to his computer on an exasperated head shake. I couldn’t tell him, even if I was in a fit state to talk. I leave Sally crying and head for the toilet to sort myself out. Oh, that feels so good. I’ve seen Sally in a whole new light. I like sarcastic Sally.
When I’ve gathered myself together and dabbed my running mascara, I let Patrick know that I’m off for a doctor’s appointment. ‘I’m sorry, Sally, I can’t look at you!’ I splutter as I pass her desk and leave the office, hearing her laughing again. I compose myself and make my way to the tube.
Chapter 23
After receiving a lecture about carelessness from Doctor Monroe, our life-long family doctor, she gave me a prescription for my pills and sent me on my way, but not before checking how Mum and Dad are getting on in Newquay. With Dad’s health being the main reason for their winding down from the big city, she was keen to hear all is well.
I stop off at the chemist on the way home, rolling in the door at just before six. It makes a change to be home so early. I’m surprised to find Kate isn’t home, but Margo is parked up outside so she’s not delivering cakes.
I shower, change into my shorts and vest, and blow-dry my hair roughly. When I’m done, I grab my phone from my bag and roll my eyes at the twenty missed calls and, rather sensibly, delete the five texts without reading them. It starts silently flashing in my hand as I walk through to the kitchen. Won’t the man just give up? He’s clearly not use to rejection, and he clearly doesn’t like it.
My wine bottle clatters against my glass, mid-pour, when I jump out of my skin at an almighty bang on the front door.
‘Ava!’
‘Oh God,’ I mutter to myself.
‘Ava!’ he roars, banging again.
I hurry through to the lounge, looking out of the blind to see Jesse staring up at the window. He looks frantic. What’s wrong with that man? He can stay out there all night, if he likes, I’m not answering the door. Being face to face with him will be a huge mistake. I watch as he holds his phone to his ear and mine starts flashing in my hand again. I reject it and look on as he glances at his phone in disbelief.
‘Ava! Answer the fucking door!’
‘No.’ I snap, watching him pace down the path to the road. I nearly have heart failure when I spot Sam pull up in his Porsche. Kate gets out.
Shit!
She approaches Jesse, who’s waving his arms around like a loon, as Sam joins them on the pavement and rubs his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. They talk for a few moments before Kate leads them up the path to the front door.
‘No, Kate!’ I shout at the window. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!’ That’s it, our friendship is over!
I stand like a complete lemon in the lounge, hearing the front door swing open, smashing against the wall behind it, and then the stamping of heavy feet flying up the stairs. He crashes through the lounge door, the anger on his face turning to relief before reverting back to pure fury again. His grey suit looks perfectly smooth and unaffected, unlike his disheveled hair and sweaty brow.
‘Where the FUCK have you been?’ He blasts me with his shout, his breath, literally, breezing past my ears. ‘I’ve been pulling my fucking hair out!’
Yes, I can see that.
I stand staring at him, completely dumb struck. I have no idea what to say. Is he under some sort of illusion that I’m answerable to him? Kate and Sam approach behind him, all quiet and apprehensive. I look at Kate, shaking my head. I’m dying to ask her if she likes this Jesse.
‘We’re just gonna pop down The Cock for a drink.’ Sam says quietly, grabbing Kate’s hand and pulling her down the landing. She doesn’t try to stop him. I watch them leave, mentally cursing their chicken arses for leaving me alone to deal with crazy man here.
He seems to take a few calming breaths, looking up at the ceiling in weariness, before returning his blazing gaze to mine. It penetrates me deeply. ‘Does someone need a reminder?’
I think I must have a carpet burn on my chin because my jaw has just plummeted to the rug. It really is all about sex to him. His self-assuredness is shocking and his opinion of me inexcusable.
‘No!’ I shout, steaming past him into the kitchen. I need that drink! I hear him follow me, watching as I chuck my phone on the worktop and yank the bottle of wine up. ‘You’re a complete bastard!’ I yell, pouring my wine with shaky hands. I’m boiling mad. I swing around and fire him my most evil look. He actually winces slightly, which fills me with immense satisfaction. ‘You’ve got what you wanted. So have I. Let’s not fuck about.’ I spit. I haven’t got what I wanted, not in the least bit, but I ignore the voice in my head screaming that at me. I need to stop this before I get dragged any further into the intensity that is Jesse Ward.
‘Watch your fucking mouth!’ he shouts. ‘What are you talking about? I haven’t got what I wanted.’
‘You want more?’ I quickly swig my wine. ‘Well, I don’t, so stop hounding me, Jesse. And stop shouting at me!’ I go for brutality, but I fear I probably sound pretty pathetic in my attempt. Something’s got to work. I take another huge gulp of my wine, jumping when it’s swiped from my hand and tossed in the sink. I wince at the shattering of glass that cracks through the air.
‘You don’t have to drink like a fucking fifteen year old.’ he yells.
My fists ball at my sides as I use all of my willpower to calm myself down. ‘Get out!’ I scream. My attempts are failing miserably. I’m becoming frantic – desperate.
I shrink when he roars in frustration, throwing his fist into the kitchen door, leaving a huge dent in the wood.
Oh, shit! I stand there, eyes bulging and lips sealed firmly shut as I watch his fierce reaction to my rejection. He turns to face me, shaking his hand a little, and looks me square in the eyes, his sludgy stare attacking me.
Fuck me, that’s gotta hurt. I’m about to go to the freezer to get some ice, but he starts to stalk towards me. I brace my hands behind me on the edge of the worktop and watch him gain on me until we are front to front. He leans forward, placing his hands over mine, effectively trapping me.
Breathing heavily in my face, he scowls at me, and then smashes his lips onto my mouth. My breath is literally sucked out of me as I writher under him, trying to free myself. What’s he doing? Actually, I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to hit me with a reminder fuck. I’m so screwed.
He pushes his lips harder against mine, but I don’t accept his kiss. I keep telling myself that this is bad, so bloody wrong. I’m going to hurt even more if I accept this, I know I will. I half-heartedly try to free myself, but he growls low in his throat, his hands tightening on mine. I’m not going anywhere. My desperate attempts to halt this are being seriously hindered by his sheer determination to break me down.
His tongue skims my bottom lip as I continue to deny him access, shuddering in an attempt to fight off the reactions he’s drawing from me. I know if he gains entry, it will be game over, so I stubbornly keep my lips locked shut while mentally pleading for him to give up.
When he releases one of my hands, I instantly grab his bicep to push him away, but it’s no good. He’s a powerhouse of a man and a determined one at that. He’s not affected in the slightest by my meager attempts to free myself.
He grabs my hip tightly and I jerk under him, but I’m pressed back into the worktop. I’m completely trapped, but I still defiantly reject his kiss, keeping my lips shut tight. I turn my head away when he eases up a bit.