Beneath This Man - Malpas Jodi Ellen - Страница 106

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‘Ava!’ Jesse shouts frantically.

‘Jesse, just go.’ Kate yells.

‘No!’

‘She’s obviously not going to come out with you here. Hey, big guy. Get him out of here.’

‘Jesse?’ John rumbles, and I pray that Jesse listens to him and leaves. I’m not going anywhere with him out there. ‘Let’s get you sorted out, you stupid mother fucker.’

I sit with my head in my hands while I listen to the back and forth coaxing of Jesse from the bathroom.

I eventually hear the door open and close again and then Kate’s subtle knocking on the door. ‘Ava, he’s gone.’ Kate assures me through the door. I lift up and slide the lock across to let my friend into the toilet with me. She pushes through the small gap and screws her nose up at the sight of the vomit spattered bowl. ‘What the hell is going on?’ She crouches on the other side of the cubicle so we’re knee to knee.

I sniffle and blow my nose on some tissue. My mouth tastes dreadful. I take a few controlled breaths through my sobs and try to steady my vocal cords. ‘He had himself whipped.’ I manage. The sound of them words has my chucking my head back over the bowl, but all I’m achieving is choking myself on dry heaves. I feel Kate’s palm rubbing at my back.

‘He what?’

I push myself away from the toilet and find Kate’s jaw dropped disbelievingly. Who would believe it? But she saw the evidence plain and clear and plastered all over Jesse’s back. ‘I walked in on him being whipped by Sarah.’

Her eyes widen. ‘Sarah the mega bitch?’ she splutters.

‘Yes.’ I nod in case the word didn’t make it out of my mouth. ‘He was on his knees, Kate, like some sort of submissive slave.’ My tears start again and my mind is invaded with the horrible memory of my strong, self-assured man being willingly beaten. Why would he do that?

‘Oh, fuck.’ She rests her hand on my knee. ‘Ava, his back is a mess.’

‘I know!’ I cry. ‘I saw it!’ That was no kinky kicks. There no pleasure element in it. Not on Jesse’s part, anyway. Sarah could be a different story, though. Jesse wanted to be hurt. My stomach convulses. ‘Kate, I need to leave. He won’t let me. I know he won’t let me go.’

A look of determination invades her pretty, pale features and she rises to her feet. ‘Wait here.’

‘Where are you going?’ My voice sounds panicky. He’ll barrel back in here as soon as Kate exits. I know he will.

‘John’s taken Jesse to his office. I’m just going to check, though.’ She opens the door and shuffles past my slumped body.

I hold my breath, waiting for a commotion, but it doesn’t come. The door opens and closes, and then there is silence. I’m alone. I stand myself up, my legs weak and shaky, and pull some toilet roll off to wipe around the seat. I hold my hand over my mouth as I generally clean up my mess, all the time more violent heaves threatening.

The toilet door opens. I freeze, holding my breath.

‘Ava?’ Kate whispers, tapping the door gently. ‘Jesse’s in his office with John. Sam will get the gates.’

I open the door and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror before I’m pulled out of the toilet cubicle and yanked towards the door. I look God awful. ‘Wait, I need some water.’ I shake Kate off and take myself to the sink, leaning over to splash my face and swill my mouth.

‘Here, have some gum.’ Kate shoves a stick in my mouth.

I’m now weighing up the merits of alcohol. Would I have preferred to find him drunk? Yes, without a doubt, I would have faced that merciful creature rather than witness him being beaten. He really is self-destructive. Grief turns into anger as I consider his reactions to a few bruises on my backside when I took a trip in Margo senior, and his face when he clocked my bruised arm after my run-in with Mr Baldy Jag – how over-the-top he was.

Before I have a chance to declare my intentions of tracking Jesse down and demanding some answers, he comes barging back into the toilets in a blind panic. I notice his eyes have cleared of the glaze as they land on me, his chest damp, his dirty blonde hair dark with sweat. I can feel Kate’s eyes passing between us as she assesses the situation.

He starts towards me and I make no attempt to stop him from doing what I know he’s going to do. He leans down, scoops me up into his arms and strides out of the toilets towards his office. He keeps his line of sight firmly forward as he walks with purpose, back through the summer room under the watchful eyes of some members, who are still floating around soaking up the spectacle. I’m aware of whispers and pointing as tears invade my eyes and start trailing down my cheeks. I’m in absolute agony, I feel sick to the stomach and my heart feels like it’s been sliced straight down the centre.

He kicks the door of his office shut and walks straight to the couch, lowering himself down on a wince. My stomach turns. His arms immerse me and his head falls straight into my neck. He is silent, holding me as close as he can get me, while I try and control myself, try to prevent the shakes that are attacking my body, but it’s not a battle I can win. My beautiful man has deep issues and just when I thought I was figuring him out, I’m hit with the worst kind of wake up call. I don’t know him at all and I certainly don’t understand him.

‘Please don’t cry.’ His muffled voice reaches my ringing ears. ‘It kills me.’

‘Why?’ I ask. It’s the only thing I can think to ask. It’s all I want to know. Why would he do this to himself?

‘I promised you I wouldn’t have a drink.’

What?

He got himself beaten rather than have a drink because he promised me he wouldn’t? Just when I thought I couldn’t be more stunned. ‘You wanted a drink?’

‘I wanted to block it out.’

‘Look at me.’ I demand, but he makes no attempt to lift his head from its secluded location. ‘Damn it, Jesse, look at me!’ I wriggle to try and get a grip of his head and pull it up, but he hisses in pain and I still immediately. ‘Three.’ I say calmly. I can’t believe I’m giving him the countdown, but I don’t know what else to do. I feel him tense under me, but he still doesn’t look. ‘Two.’

‘What happens on zero?’ he asks quietly.

‘I leave.’ I say calmly.

His head flies up and I whimper at the sight of him, his green eyes clouded, pain spilling out of them, his chin trembling. He gazes straight into my eyes. They are pleading silently to me. ‘Please, don’t.’

Any ounce of strength that was keeping me marginally together is shredded at the sight and sound of him. I fall apart completely as I clasp his face in my hands and put my lips on him, but I’m not close enough. I gingerly shift so that I’m astride his lap, and then pull him as close as I can get him, without hurting him. ‘Tell me what you were blocking out.’

‘Hurting you.’

‘I don’t understand.’ I’m beyond confused. Doesn’t he think that this is hurting me? ‘I would rather you had a drink.’

‘You wouldn’t.’ He says it on a slight laugh that sends a nervous twinge through me.

I pull back and search his eyes out. ‘I would rather face you with half a vodka distillery inside you than see what I just saw.’

He drops his head in shame. ‘Trust me Ava, you wouldn’t.’

‘Yes, I would.’ I affirm. There is no contest. ‘And trust you? Jesse, I feel sick with betrayal.’ I’ve not even thought about what I’m going to do to Sarah when I get my hands on her. A trample won’t cover it. She has marked my neurotic God and the more all of this sinks in, the angrier I’m getting.

I lift myself from his lap and bat him away when he tries to grasp me. ‘I’m not leaving.’ I say a bit too harshly. His panicked expression has me even madder.

I start pacing around his office, tapping my nail on my front tooth under the tense, anxious eyes of my challenging man, who just keeps delivering on fucking challenges. I’m struggling here. That was some serious sadistic shit. God, I thrashed a belt at him on the launch night of Lusso.

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