Lust (The Stripped Bare Series Book 1) (2 page)

Jasmine

Sitting in the dingy motorway service station, I gently sip my cup of tea. I haven’t slept in over twenty-four hours and I’m completely exhausted. I should really be drinking coffee but I hate the stuff. Instead, I pick up a couple of cans of Red Bull for the rest of my journey. Another hour or so of driving and we’ll reach my parent’s house in Chester, Cheshire. Thoughts of hot showers and washing away the past few hours invade my mind.

I sit contemplating my actions whilst watching all of the people coming and going around me.

Am I doing the right thing?

The decision to leave London was so sudden, I should have thought through everything rationally before I packed up my whole life and shoved it into the back of my Ford Focus. Maybe it’s not too late to turn back. I can ring my landlord and tell him that I made a mistake. He probably hasn’t even noticed that I’ve gone yet and it’s not like I’ve told my parents that I’m coming, anyway.

If I carry on to Chester, I have no home or job to go to. I have no money apart from a couple of pounds that I’ve saved up for my trip to Italy – which I won’t be attending no
w
– and I have no friends there, apart from Piper, who I haven’t seen for years. However, I’ll have my parents and I’ll have my safety. It’s so scary uprooting all of my life and moving halfway across the country. What if I’m making a big deal out of nothing? The man couldn’t have seen me, if he had, I’d be dead already.

Is it worth taking that chance, though?

Maybe, if it was just me to think of, I’d have stayed and faced it, but I can’t put Austen’s life in danger. Austen is my world. Everything I do revolves around him and the mere thought of anything ever happening to him makes me feel sick to my stomach. Yes, I’m making the right decision, if not for me then for Austen.

Taking another sip of my tea, I stare down at the cup watching the little bubbles pop on the top. My grandmother always used to say that the bubbles were money and when there were a lot of them you were going to be rich. She had lots of old wives tales; I always took them with a pinch of salt.

Hearing Austen coming towards me, I look up. His face is red and sweaty and he’s panting heavily. Panic washes over me at first, before I notice the huge smile plastered across his beautiful face.

“Mum, Mum, I got the highest score on the shooting game, come and look.” He tugs on my arm. His palms are as sweaty as his freckled, podgy face, his strawberry blonde hair is sticking up in every direction and his blue-green eyes are wide.

“In a minute, baby. I need to rest for a little while. All this driving has made me tired,” I tell him. I’m so exhausted; I’m not sure where he gets all of his energy.

“Okay, Mum, but promise you’ll come and look before we leave?” He asks, hopefully.

“Sure, kiddo. Now, come and eat something before we head off again.” I watch as he takes huge bites out of his burger, shoving fries in at the same time, he washes it down with chocolate milkshake and then runs off in the direction of the arcade, once again. Luckily, the arcade is only a few feet away and I can see him perfectly. I don’t want to let him out of my sight until we are safely in Chester. Am I being paranoid? Probably, but I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen to him.

Austen was the product of my failed marriage, but I wouldn’t change a thing, apart from his father. He’s seven years old and the only light in my dull life. I met Gavin, his father, when I was twenty. My cousin had invited me to spend the weekend at her house in London. We went out to a club on the Saturday night and Gavin was there. I think I fell in lust with him immediately. He was tall and tanned with messy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He was so handsome and I felt like the luckiest person in the world to have found him.

A few months into our relationship, and lots of back and forth from Chester to London, I found out that we were pregnant. I was both terrified and excited at the prospect of becoming a parent. Gavin was delighted and he proposed soon afterwards. We got married in a registry office a few weeks later and I moved into his London apartment. My parents weren’t very happy that I was moving so far away, but they accepted it and regularly came to visit. Everything seemed to be perfect; I thought that I had the ideal life. I had a loving, gorgeous, generous husband, who provided for our family and me, I had a beautiful apartment in a prime location in the centre of London, and I had a beautiful baby boy. I couldn’t have been happier.

However, it didn’t stay that way. Gavin started working late hours and then some nights he wouldn’t come home at all. I became depressed and anxious, never leaving the apartment. Instead, I spent all my time in my pyjamas watching re-runs of
Friends
and eating takeaways. I started to pile on the weight and my appearance became haggard. I had no friends and I had no life. Towards the end of our relationship, I found out that Gavin has been cheating on me for over a year with some slip of a girl from his office. After secretly securing a flat, a few weeks later I packed our bags and Austen and I moved out. The flat was only small, especially compared to what we previously had, but I made it a home. I managed to find a reliable babysitter and I got myself a job at a restaurant, waitressing. I loved that job, it paid a good wage and the tips were great, I made some amazing friends, I lost all the weight that I had put on and I was going to the gym regularly. I had started to get my life back.

That was until last night.

Standing up, I take my tray over to the bin, emptying the contents before heading over to the arcades.

“C’mon then, Austen, show me this high score,” I call to him. He immediately stops what he’s doing, pride shining in his eyes. He takes my hand and drags me over to the Shoot Them Up game. I cringe at the thought of my boy using a gun, even a fake one. After everything that happened last night, I’ll be glad if I never see another gun for as long as I live.

“Look, Mum, that’s me, there, on the top.” He points to the three little letters AUS on the screen. He looks so vibrant, so delighted with himself, that I push back all of my thoughts and hug him tightly.

“That’s fantastic, kiddo. You’re amazing, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He shrugs, smugly.

“Now, go to the bathroom before we leave. We aren’t stopping again until we get to Grandma and Grandad’s house.” I watch him run off in the direction of the bathroom. “Hey, Austen, come in the ladies
’
so I can keep an eye on you.”

“But, Mummmmm, I’m not a little kid anymore. I don’t wanna go in there. There’s girls in there.” He pulls a disgusted face. I nod my head and watch him enter the men’s room, before making a beeline to the ladies’, trying to be as quick as I can.

We get back into the car and head back out onto the motorway. The weather is horrendous; the rain is lashing down so fast that I can barely see the cars in front of me from the spray. I keep a safe distance and drive slowly, not wanting to be involved in an accident.
Wouldn’t that be ironic? Running away from a murderer, only to be killed by the roads.

An hour and a half later and we pull up outside my parents
’
two storey, semi-detached house. I see the curtain twitch in the front room, before my mum comes barrelling out of the front door, down the steps, and along the small gravel path that leads to the driveway. I get out to greet her as she brings me into her arms for a tight hug.

“Darling, why didn’t you tell me you was coming up for a visit? I woul
d’
ve asked your dad to take some time off work.” She peers over my shoulder to see Austen, who is climbing out of the car. She doesn’t let me answer her question before saying
,
“Austen, come here and give your grandma a hug.
”
I look over at my mum and Austen together and smile. I miss being so close to my parents. My mum has aged recently and it will be nice spending more time with them.

“Gran, I missed you.” Austen runs over, almost knocking my mother off her feet. I watch as she bends down to embrace him, her short copper hair swishing against her neck. “Where’s Grandad?” he asks, hopeful. He loves my dad, he knows he can wrap him around his little finger and make him do anything he wants. I let him, because he needs a stable man in his life, it’s not like his dad sees him often.

“He’s at work, but he’ll be home soon,” she replies, looking at the car and then back at me. “What’s with all the boxes, Jasmine?” she asks, unsure.

“Is it okay if we stay for a little while?” I try not to elaborate, I don’t want her to ask me why, but I know it’s coming soon.

“S
ure, sweetie. You’re welcome any time, you know that.” I give her a small hug and make my way up the driveway towards the house. I think I’ll wait to unpack the car. I really need to relax with a nice cold, crisp glass of wine.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” my mum asks later that evening, once Austen has gone to bed. H
e’
d roped my dad into telling him one of his funny stories before he would go to sleep. I sip my glass of wine and lean back in the large, comfy armchair, my feet curled up underneath me. I take a deep breath and then the tears flood out of me. I can’t control them and I can’t get the words out. “Hush, Jasmine. What’s the matter? Has someone hurt you? Are you in trouble?” My chest tightens when I think about what happened last night and I try to take control of my breathing again.

“I witnessed something I shouldn’t have,” I finally manage to say. My mum, who has now moved over to sit on the arm of the chair next to me, looks concerned.

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“I was at work. Joe had asked me to take the bins out, so I gathered them up and went out the back door to put them in the big bin out the back. I heard a noise just as I closed the lid. I was petrified, so I ducked down. It was dark, the only light was coming from a security light down the alley.” I take a big swig of my wine before continuing. “Then, I heard voices shouting, two men. I peeked around the side of the bin and one of the men had a gun in his hand. The other man was kneeling on the floor, and the gun was pointed at his head.” I sob as the words leave my mouth. This is the first time I’ve said them out loud. My mother’s face starts to pale as I tell her the story. I tell her about the police coming and then how I lied to them about what really happened.

“So, then I got home as fast as I could.I packed all of our things, got Austen up, and left. He thinks w
e’
re just here on a holiday, I don’t know what to tell him.” My father enters the room just as I finish telling her what happened. I wipe the tears from my tired, bloodshot eyes.

“Er, I’ll leave you two to it,” he says, picking up his magazine then leaving the room, closing the door behind him. My dad has never been good at dealing with emotions, especially not crying girls. You would think that after having three daughters h
e’
d be used to it, but no, he always leaves that job to my mum.

“You did the right thing, Jasmine. You can stay as long as you like. I never did like you living in that big city all by yourself.” She gives me a tight hug, and stands
.
“Tea?” she asks. Looking at my wine glass, I find that it’s empty.

“Yes, please.” Tea always makes everything better.

I toss and turn all night long dreaming about the man with the gun. His eyes are burning deep inside me; they’re threatening and odious. He knows that I saw him. He want’s to hurt me and he want’s to hurt Austen. But, I wo
n’
t let him; I’ll fight him to the end of the earth to protect my child. I wake with sweat pouring off me. ‘We are safe, it was just a dream,’ I try to tell myself, but what if he did see me, and what if he finds us?

“Mum, Mum, can we go to the city today, please? Can we have ice cream down by the river, and go to the park? Please, Mum, can we?” Austen comes running into my room and jumps on the bed. Pulling the covers over my head, I grumble at his liveliness.

“Later, baby. Go ask Gran to make you some breakfast. I’ll be down soon and then we’ll decide.” He jumps off the bed and runs out of the door. I hear his little feet pattering down the wooden staircase, before I roll over and try to go back to sleep. Hearing the sound of pots and pans banging downstairs, I give up and climb out of bed.