The Taste of Redemption Read online

  “I’m fine. Thank…”

  “Fine?!” I grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the bathroom, heaving. Fucking hyperventilating. “This is fine to you?! This is sick!”

  She glared at the reflection in the mirror, her face stoic, making me feel that much worse because it was plain to see the bruises that knocked the wind out of me were just another day at the office to her; they were merely an inconvenience, like a shitty tattoo.

  “It’s nothing. Stop overreacting.”

  I fisted my hair, backing away from Nadia not trusting myself to keep the anger inside. The unscathed mirror looked too tempting, and I already imagined my fist breaking it to pieces.

  “Nothing?! This is nothing?! What the fuck did he do to you?! Those are larger than my hands!”

  Nadia opened her mouth to speak, but I couldn’t take any more excuses on Adrian’s behalf. There was nothing that guy could do to make her hate him. I turned around and almost flew down the stairs. Nick was in the hallway, on his way to check why I screamed at his sister.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Apparently nothing is fucking wrong.”

  He frowned when I grabbed my jacket and left, slamming the door.

  I needed air. I needed space. I needed Adrian in front of me so I could knock his teeth out and break as many bones as my fists could manage.

  CHAPTER 15

  NADIA

  Mask

  A two-hour session with James wasn’t enough on Wednesday after Thomas stormed out of the house.

  The sudden outburst was no surprise. It was easier for people to process abuse if they had no tangible proof. Bruises were tangible—a visual reminder of Adrian’s barbarity.

  Two hours weren’t enough on Thursday or Friday, either, while I waited for Thomas to come back.

  He didn’t.

  Disappointment gnawed at me day and night. Still, I sought the positives, adamant that he was better off without me. The list of my issues wasn’t getting shorter; pills were merely taking the edge off; and sometimes I wasn’t sure if I would ever find a lighter to light up the pitch-black tunnel.

  Thomas had issues of his own. He spent years overcoming blame. I refused to ruin his chance at happiness just because I struggled to find mine, even though it hurt more than all the bruises put together. Physical pain had nothing on a bleeding heart.

  Insomnia deepened as if my body rebelled against resting unless Thomas was with me, but I pushed through by swallowed pills, and I searched for that damn lighter.

  I stormed out of James’s office, lighting a cigarette, marching toward the carpark where I left my new, shiny car. Christmas was just around the corner with five days left, and the shopping fever spread across London. Hundreds of people rushed around the streets carrying more than fit in their hands. Every year, Christmas came on the same date, yet people were panic buying at the last minute as if it caught them off guard.

  Instead of heading back to the empty cottage, I decided to join the frenzy and spent the afternoon shopping. With a coffee in hand, I strolled around shops for three hours before I was interrupted by my brother.

  “Hey, we’re hosting a little impromptu party at C&G tonight.”

  “Please don’t invite me,” I said, eyeing a pair of beige boots in the shop window.

  Nick chuckled. “I’m not asking you to come, sis.”

  Thank God.

  “I’m telling you to. Consider this a heads up. You’ve got time to go shopping or grab a dress from your apartment. I’ll see you later.”

  “I am shopping, but don’t count me in. You have fun, though.”

  I wouldn’t mind spending time away from the cottage or James’s office now that my face was back to normal and hiding under a large hoodie was unnecessary, but attending the party meant seeing Thomas with Chrissy.

  “Yes, you are. We’re leaving at six.”

  He cut the call not letting me protest.

  Six o’clock came and went while I shopped and ate too many custard-filled doughnuts. No one could convince me to watch the guy I loved kiss another girl. Still, sometime after seven o’clock it was time to head back home. I backed out of the parking space and joined the traffic, singing along to No Plan by Hozier.

  I pulled onto the driveway and rested my head on the steering wheel. Five cars were parked outside the cottage apart from Nick’s and Mel’s. Thomas’s BMW was there, and so was Scorpio’s Mercedes. It looked like Nick decided to change the venue and hosted the party at home.

  Cheerful conversations filled my ears when I opened the front door, after spending fifteen minutes in the car, debating whether to turn around and head over to my apartment.

  “There she is!” Ethan exclaimed spotting me when I tried to sneak upstairs unnoticed. “Hey, cutie, how are you doing?” He jogged over to kiss my cheek, and wrapped his arms around my middle, hurting my ribs.

  The conversations stopped when I moved away, glancing around the room. My friends watched me with pitiful expressions. There were also two guys there that I didn’t know, and… Chrissy.

  She stood beside Thomas; her arm interlocked with his, a pretty smile on her perfect face. Movie-star worthy make-up, a beige pencil skirt and a white, lacy blouse. She could make any man beg.

  My stomach tied in knots. I settled for a small wave aimed at no one in particular, before I averted my gaze to Ethan, hoping that my face didn’t betray the havoc Chrissy’s presence wreaked in my system.

  Somewhere deep down I hoped that after the night we spent together, Thomas would stop seeing her.

  Pity the fool.

  “I’m okay,” I said. “I see the plans changed.”

  “You didn’t want to join us, so we joined you.” Ethan smiled.

  Nick chose that moment to come closer. “You can scream at me later. Now come on; I want you to meet someone.”

  “Let me change, okay?”

  Anything to get out of there and pep-talk myself to endure an evening of watching the guy I loved with someone else at his side.

  “Yeah, sure.” He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Wine or tequila?”

  “Tequila, please.”

  I climbed the stairs, dropped my bag on the bedroom floor and unzipped the not-weather-appropriate dress, letting it slide down my legs. The house was warm enough to wear a blouse but considering the still-visible bruises on my arms and neck, I settled for another baggy sweater. It had its perks—I would be warm for the first time today.

  I jumped when the door to my bedroom opened. Thomas stood in the doorway; his fists clenched as tight as his jaw.

  “Turn around,” he said, his voice full of poorly concealed tension.

  I shook my head, trying to put the jumper on, but struggled to find the holes where arms go while holding his gaze. I ended up putting my head in the sleeve. It should have been funny, but it stressed me out more.

  Thomas closed the distance when I freed myself out of the knitted trap, his composure nothing more than a front when he snatched the jumper from me and threw it back on the bed.

  “Turn around,” he repeated. “Please, baby. Turn. Around.”

  My gaze dropped to the floor, but I obeyed, shame heating my cheeks. Thomas ghosted his fingers over the bruises. Goose bumps erupted on my skin everywhere he touched. My mistakes, naivety and vulnerability were never more on display, but I didn’t dare move.

  “I’m fine,” I muttered, standing there like an orphan.

  “You’re not fine, just admit it and stop hiding behind a mask.”

  He placed his hand on my stomach, spacing his finger before he pressed me flush against his chest and hid his face in my hair, inhaling a deep breath. The muscles in his arms and abdomen relaxed. A wave of heat engulfed my senses, the closeness of his body like artificial endorphins.

  “The tattoo…” he uttered, his lips brushing against my ear. “Why birds?”

  The final sketch of the puppet included little birds. They held the strings that used to be in Adrian’s
grip in their beaks, representing freedom and survival.

  I placed my hand on his, risking rejection and another wave of blinding disappointment. Thomas’s breathing hitched for a second, but he let me lace our fingers, and we both let all the air from our lungs.

  “I have to go up,” I said, my eyes closed.

  He squeezed my fingers and pressed a kiss to my shoulder, draping the other hand across my collarbones.

  “I didn’t bring her here. She’s Jane’s friend from work, and they were together when Mel called about the party.”

  I wished he took that back. We were locked in a bubble, the same one we used to spend hours upon hours in, and it hurt that he chose to mention Chrissy.

  “It’s okay. We had to meet sometime.”

  “That’s three, baby doll. Stop lying.”

  Another kiss on my shoulder and he left me alone, standing in the middle of the room, my heart pounding.

  I pulled the cream jumper over my head and squeezed into a pair of skinny jeans, tying my hair in a ponytail. For a moment I stood in front of the nightstand, gawking at a bottle of Alprazolam AKA Xanax.

  Swallowing pills when tequila was on the agenda was a bad, bad idea. I couldn’t watch Thomas with his new girlfriend without help, but I was done mixing alcohol with pills. I was done harming myself.

  I shoved the bottle into the drawer, brushed a few locks of hair away from my face, and descended the stairs to join the party.

  After a couple of minutes of awkward heys and how are yous I plucked the courage to approach Chrissy. She was even prettier close-up than from afar. The dark rims of her glasses made her blue eyes pop, and her skin was so flawless that it looked photoshopped.

  A pang of jealousy twisted my stomach, when she laced her fingers with Thomas’s as if marking the territory. It hurt even more when he drew her closer to his side, avoiding my gaze.

  “Hey, we haven’t had a chance to meet.” I outstretched my hand, half a dozen of donuts on their way out. “I’m Nadia.”

  “Oh yeah, hey,” she twirled, her voice melodic and sweet like brownies. “I’m Chrissy. Gosh, I’m sorry about what happened to you. It’s so sad. How are you doing?”

  I glanced at Thomas, annoyed and betrayed. He had no right to tell her about my problems.

  “I’m okay, thank you.”

  “Nadia!” Mel waved me over from across the room as if sensing that I needed an out. “Come on, tequila is waiting.”

  Five fingers caught my arm when I turned my back on Chrissy and Thomas without as much as a fake, apologetic smile.

  “Have a smoke with me,” Thomas urged, cinnamon eyes drilling a hole in me.

  Chrissy’s eyes narrowed, but she covered her annoyance well with a flashy smile, even though her eyes said she was ready to barricade the door. Thomas didn’t let me decide. He dragged me out to the garden and slid the patio doors closed.

  “I didn’t tell her,” he said. “Scorpio told Jane, and…”

  “I don’t care that she knows,” I cut in, stepping back.

  It proved fruitless. For every one of my steps back, Thomas took one forward, reluctant to let me wander too far.

  “But I’m glad you didn’t tell her. It means I can still trust you.”

  He took one more step, and we were almost touching.

  “Always.”

  My stomach tied in knots. He came here with Chrissy, seemingly certain that we were over, but he kept contradicting his own willingness to move on by invading my space any chance he got.

  “I tried to cross that bridge, baby,” I said, sensing a good moment to apologise. “I’m sorry I looked down.”

  He stepped back, flicking his cigarette onto the ground.

  “You didn’t. You turned around.”

  He walked back inside, not waiting for a reply. I finished my cigarette, fighting not to let the regret eat me alive.

  Two minutes later, I crossed the living room, and Mel hooked her arm with mine, walking me into the kitchen. Chase was one of the tall, dark-haired twins who mingled with the crowd. They looked alike, but it was easy to distinguish between them.

  Charles wore his hair short and sported a white suit with big, black letters printed all over. Chase had a beard and long hair tied in a bun. His style differed from his brother’s too—light jeans, black t-shirt and a chequered shirt thrown on top.

  He waited for me in the kitchen, and once Mel introduced us, she left with a cheeky smile that made my skin crawl… She had her heart set on playing cupid.

  “Shall we drink?” he asked, an adorable dimple on his cheek. “I hear you’re a fan.” He pointed to a bottle of Gold Tequila on the breakfast bar, pulling out a stool for me. “I’ll show you a better way to drink it if you tell me where Mel keeps spices.”

  There was something familiar about him. The way he walked, the tone of his voice and a cute dimple I surely saw before.

  I pointed to one of the cupboards. “I have a weird feeling we know each other.”

  He turned around, smiling. “We sure do, Nadia. Although if I passed you on the street, I’d keep on walking. You changed a lot since high school.”

  “Yes, of course! High school!” I exclaimed. “You were two years above me, right? And it’s not like you haven’t changed. Back then, I couldn’t distinguish between you and your brother.”

  He smirked, placing a little jar of cinnamon in front of me, then reached for a couple of oranges and a knife.

  “I’m surprised you remember us at all. You never paid attention to the world. I always saw you with a sketchpad and a pencil in hand.”

  “Not much has changed. I still have a pencil on me most of the time.” I took a small one out of the back pocket of my jeans and placed it on the counter. “And what did you end up doing? I assume you’re not an accountant at C&G, so instruments or vocals?”

  “Both, actually, but with The Mishaps it’s mostly electric guitar.”

  “The Mishaps?! Are you kidding? I heard your song on the radio in New York a few weeks ago. Your brother has an amazing voice.”

  “He does, but you can ask your brother which one of us sings better. Charles can’t play guitar, and that’s the only reason why he sings.”

  “Okay, I’m sold.” I opened the cupboard to my right and reached for two shot glasses. “Sing for me.”

  Cue in those adorable dimples. Cue in flirting. He rested his elbows on the countertop to get eye level with me, toying with his lip piercing.

  “Okay, but I hear you’ve got a pretty damn good voice yourself. You sing for me; I sing for you.” He poured us two shots and handed me a slice of orange. “Deal?”

  “I don’t know who told you that, but I assume it was Nick.”

  “Guilty as charged.” The traitor entered the room, beaming. “Admit it, sis. You can sing.”

  I rolled my eyes, urging Chase to drink, but he stopped me to sprinkle cinnamon at the back of my hand.

  “Lick it,” he said, then did the same and downed the shot, sinking a set of white teeth into the orange slice.

  “This is so much better than lemon and salt.” I licked my lips. “Okay, deal. You sing, I sing.” I turned to Nick. “Can we go out for karaoke or is that not allowed?”

  Nick raised an eyebrow either surprised to hear me ask for permission, or to see me enjoy Chase’s company so much.

  “Yeah, it’s okay. Just pick a small bar. The first single blew up so fast that I doubt you can go anywhere and still be anonymous.”

  Chase stared at my lips when I turned back to him. He smiled, not at all embarrassed about being caught, and poured us another shot.

  Thomas came into the kitchen, shards of glass on the palm of his hand. “I think Chrissy has had enough.”

  “Stop being such a buzzkill,” she giggled, following him like a tiny, cute shadow. “It was an accident! I’m sorry about the glass, Nick.”

  She wrapped her arms around Thomas’s middle.

  A cold hand squeezed my heart and lungs so hard my vision
blurred. My eyes darted to Chase. I straightened my back and held my head higher to get some semblance of dignity.

  “I think I know somewhere we could go. Are you free tomorrow? I can pick you up at seven.”

  Chase reached for my hand to sprinkle more cinnamon and grazed his thumb across my knuckles before giving me a slice of orange.

  “Do that.” I swallowed the shot. “But also, I’m free now.”

  “Now is good,” he chuckled. “Let me just tell Charles.”

  Nick took Chase’s place when he walked out of the kitchen.

  “You’re leaving? Are you sure you don’t want to hang out here?”

  One hundred percent sure. Even not looking at Thomas and Chrissy, knowing they were around holding hands or kissing, was too much.

  “I don’t think anyone will notice we’re gone, and it turns out Chase and I went to high school together, so we’ve got some catching up to do. I want to relax tonight. Let me, and don’t worry, okay?”

  A knowing look crossed his face. I didn’t have to tell him Chrissy’s presence added a few pounds to the weight I carried on my shoulders.

  “Okay. I’m not worried, sis. I trust Chase. I’m just disappointed I won’t hear you sing.”

  “Why don’t we all go?” Thomas cut in, his eyes on me even though Chrissy stood in front of him, talking about a movie she wanted to see.

  Chase appeared in the doorway, gesturing for me to get moving. I slid off the stool, and crossed the room, meeting him out in the hallway.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, when he helped me slip my coat on, then took my hand and led me outside, our pace almost a jog.

  “You looked like you want to get out of here. I doubt you want to drag everyone along, so unless I’m wrong, I suggest we don’t wait for the taxi and take your car instead.”

  “Yes, please, but you drive.”

  He took the keys out of my hand and hopped behind the wheel. My phone rang before we left the driveway. Thomas’s face flashed on the screen. I pressed the red button time and time again until he stopped calling, and he shot me a text instead.

  He’s drunk. If something happens to you, I’ll break his hands.