Anything For Him (18 page)

As I continued to sip my wine in the comfortable silence that settled over the kitchen, I pondered on exactly what I’d done. It was all very well me telling him he could trust me, but although I’d love to say I did, could I fully trust him? There would always be that little whisper of doubt, no matter how long we stayed together, wouldn’t there? I knew enough about human nature to know that when backed into a corner, hurt and broken-hearted, a person might well renege on a promise and spill the God-awful can of worms they’d been storing in their mental larder. We’d done a terrible thing, knowingly luring a man to his death – and another was killed in the process, but I wasn’t taking the blame for that! Who was to say years down the line, if things went wrong between us, that Liuz wouldn’t use this night against me? If, later on, at the trial, say, he went up on the stand and told them all I’d been lying. I bit my lip, then realised if he implicated me, he implicated himself.

I just couldn’t see him doing it. Couldn’t see him saying something that would land him in prison. Yes, he was a thug of sorts, no doubt about it, but an outright criminal?

I almost laughed, because hell, he
was
an outright criminal.

Come to think of it, so was I.

I had to stop thinking like that. It would be OK so long as we were together.

‘Can I trust you, Liuz?’ I blurted.

I had to make sure, didn’t I? I had to see the look on his face, see his eyes when he answered. I stared at him as he lifted his head, swinging his gaze from the floor where he’d undoubtedly been seeing things that had happened in his bedsit. God, I knew all about how that felt. Since getting back from the police station, despite me painting out what I’d seen to make it go away, I still saw events as they had occurred in all their sickening glory. How long would that last? And I had yet to shower, to sleep. Would nightmares come, haunting me in my sleep as well as me being tormented by my thoughts during the day? Would time fade the images, making them less sharp? Would it erase the guilt bit by bit? If I convinced myself enough times that it had happened exactly as we’d told the police, would I eventually believe it?

Again, Beefcake being shot flashed through my mind. I clenched my teeth. Gulped some wine. Fiddled with a lock of my hair.

Who would have thought brain matter would spread so far?

I shuddered and shoved the image away.

‘Yes, you can trust me,’ he said.

How long had I been thinking? Had it taken him a while to answer me? If it had, why? He seemed sincere, scared for a second, as though my question meant I didn’t really trust him. He lifted one hand and cupped my cheek, thumbing my cheekbone and looking at me but through me. I wasn’t sure I liked that, but maybe he was seeing into the future. Maybe he was having one of those daydreams where you imagine yourself with the person you love and you hope that the couple on the beach, the couple in bed making love, the couple with two kids and a puppy will really happen for you.

Did I want that? I couldn’t say I wanted the whole package right now. I was too full of just wanting Liuz all to myself, let alone sharing him. Yet I had shared him.

‘We’ll have to give evidence in court if Teddy gets caught.’ I took another large gulp of wine, suddenly too aware of what might loiter in our future. I hadn’t meant to say that. I wanted to forget it all, but it seemed my brain wasn’t into keeping my thoughts inside.

What if the solicitors tripped us up? What if they caught us out in our lies and we ended up being the ones taken down to the cells? I couldn’t think about it any more – it frightened me to death. I wouldn’t be forced apart from Liuz – not if I could help it.

‘But he will not get caught, Hannah. He has gone. I do not think he will be back.’

Liuz dropped his hand from my face and paced my small kitchen, rasping his palm over his stubbled chin, his eyes darting left to right.

Now we’d started talking about it properly, I couldn’t stop. ‘OK, so let’s say Teddy’s gone to Brazil or something, right? That he’s gone there because it’s the safest place to be when you’ve had a hand in murdering people. So I’ve heard, anyway. Yes, let’s say that. So, we need to deal with what’s left. Retaliation from Beefcake’s gang.’

He stopped pacing and stared at me. ‘Beefcake?’

‘I mean Grant. What about that?’

‘What about it? I imagine they will send someone around to my place once the police have released it back to me. His men will ask questions, I know that, I am prepared for it. I will tell them what we told the police. No one except us, Teddy, and whoever killed Grant and his thug know any different. It will be all right,
Aniolku.
We cannot keep worrying over this. If we do, we will make mistakes, bring attention to ourselves. We must act naturally.’

He resumed pacing, and despite what he’d said, that alone told me he wasn’t hindering his own words. Something played on his mind – a double murder and God knew what else – and I was at a loss as to how to make it all go away.

I didn’t think sex was going to work somehow.

‘My editor may want me to write a story about this,’ I said, silently cursing my over-active mouth. Why couldn’t I just shut the hell up?

Liuz sighed. ‘Then do it. Stick to the story. It is an ideal way to get our version out there. Grant’s people will see it. Telephone or email your office later when you have had a little sleep. Offer the story yourself. It is better that they print it before I return home. Before his men call round.’

I wondered how long I’d get Liuz to myself, here, in my flat. I knew it sometimes took weeks for the police to release a crime scene. I imagined Liuz’s place, forensic officers crawling all over it, blood spatter analysts working out how fast the bullets were travelling. They’d know exactly where the shooter had been standing by the time they were finished. The alarming thought of witnesses streamed through my mind, and I tamped down the urge to voice my fears.

Still, one question was burning to be asked, and I wouldn’t be able to rest until I knew the answer – or at least had my fears quieted. ‘What if some do-gooder saw the killer and gave the police information that leads them to working out who did it? I mean, it only takes the smallest bit of DNA to catch people these days.’

Liuz stood still and turned steely eyes on me. ‘Hannah, do you not think I have thought the same? That our stories might be straight but someone else may come along and fuck it up? I can only hope Teddy thought of that before he came to my place. That the killer is a professional who would have covered all angles. These people who murder for a living are not stupid. We have to hope we are safe.’ He took a sip of wine then raised a hand to his mouth, biting on the pad of his thumb.

‘Don’t do that,’ I said.

‘Do what?’

He frowned at me as though I was getting on his nerves, and perhaps I was. I was getting on my own nerves.

‘Biting your thumb, your skin. The police look at things like that. Same as reporters do. They’d have noticed your skin wasn’t ripped or whatever when they interviewed you, and if they call you in again and see you’ve been gnawing your fingers off, they’ll think the worst.’ I was gabbling, I knew that, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.

‘Would they not think I had chewed my fingers because I was traumatised at seeing two people killed?’ His cheeks flared red and he clenched his jaw.

‘I suppose.’

‘You are inventing worries, Hannah. I cannot cope here if you are going to keep going over this. It will drive us crazy.’

Not stay here? He had to stay here, with me.

He paused to finish his wine, placed the glass on the side then asked, ‘Where will I sleep?’

‘In my room, if you want. I can join you, or if you don’t want that –’

‘I do want that. I do not want to sleep alone. While I am here, let’s sleep together.’

A part of me melted at that. He needed human comfort as much as I did. OK, my kind of comfort was talking things through, and I guessed his was being close to me instead. If I could just learn to keep my mouth shut, we’d be fine and he’d stay.

I watched him walk out of my kitchen and followed, intending to show him into my bedroom. Before I could stop him walking into the room with the mural, he’d opened the door and had one foot over the threshold.

‘That’s not my bedroom!’ I said, a little louder than I’d intended, but it had the desired effect.

Liuz stood still, hand on the doorknob, looking at me with his head cocked. ‘I am sorry. Which room is it?’

‘The next one along. That room –’ I nodded at the open doorway, my heart beating way too fast ‘– is where I do my art. I’m shy about it. Don’t like anyone seeing my stuff when I’m halfway through a project. So, um, if you wouldn’t mind not going in there?’

He nodded and stepped back, closing the door. ‘Of course.’

‘You know I’m trusting you not to go in there at all, right?’

I’d have to get someone in to fit a lock.

‘Yes, but do you not want me to get to know you a little better, though? Seeing what you have created will show me a different side to you, and you know how much I enjoy all of your different sides.’

What was he saying? That he wanted more than just fucking between us? I decided to test how much he really cared for me.

‘I’m not ready to show anyone my art yet, not even you. I’m self-conscious about it.’ Here goes. ‘If you go in there without my consent, I’ll have to say the stop word because … because you’ll have broken my trust. I can’t have a relationship without it, Liuz.’

What if he said it himself now? What if me thinking I was clever in calling his bluff backfired on me? Shit.

‘I understand. You saying that has made me feel better. I think – I know – I can trust you now.’

‘And you didn’t before?’ I was hurt, I could admit that, but hadn’t I had the same thoughts – that I couldn’t fully trust him?

‘Yes, I did, but I wondered … if later down the line …’

I didn’t want to discuss later down the line. That scenario needed to remain firmly in my head. Talking about it out loud might make things go wrong, and I couldn’t have that. We’d come through so much in such a short space of time. We didn’t need some silly conversation to mess it all up now.

‘Come on,’ I said, linking my arm through his. ‘Let’s go to bed. We’re both tired. It’s been one hell of a day.’ I nearly laughed again at how hellish it had been, how me saying that, like we’d had nothing more to deal with than a tiring day at work, was so ridiculous.

I led him to my bedroom, wondering how he’d look and feel in my bed, with its puffy comforter and soft sheets – a far cry from Liuz’s sparse coverings. To be here now, together in my flat, was something I’d wanted – both of us sharing our spaces with the other, sharing parts of our lives. OK, it had taken two men being killed to get it, but –

Shut up.

I let go of his arm and walked to the side of the bed, pulling back the quilt and patting the mattress on the side I wanted him to sleep. I unhooked my bra, dropping it to the floor, and eased down my panties, kicking them away once they reached my ankles. I knew he watched me, so I stretched lazily, pointing my fingertips to the ceiling. I wanted him to see what he could have every night if he only reached out and took it – took the next step, took our relationship to a higher level. If he stayed.

Suddenly I spotted my hands, covered in paint and God only knew what else. A whiff of my sex-sweat odour rose to my nose. I seriously needed a shower, there was no way I was going to spend my first night with Liuz in this state. ‘Give me two minutes,’ I said, gesturing to the bedroom door. ‘I’m going to take a quick shower.’

‘Go ahead,’ he said, standing still and staring at my dressing table covered in lotions and potions and jewellery.

After dashing into the bathroom, I yanked on the faucet, doused myself in soapy bubbles, rinsed and dried, then sped back to the bedroom feeling much fresher and hugely relieved that he was still where I had left him.

‘Do you mind if I shower too?’ he asked.

‘Sure, go ahead.’

He nodded curtly, as though snapping out of some fug, and took off his clothes. I enjoyed seeing every piece of material leave his body, comfortable to take every one of his movements in as though we did this every night of the week. It was a great feeling, me hoping that our future held more nights like this. And it would, wouldn’t it? How could it not now? And if anything threatened that I would have to resort to more extreme methods of making him stay.

He abandoned his clothes on the floor and left the room.

I lay listening to the irregular splash of water as he showered, the anticipation of him coming to me almost too much to bear.

It wasn’t long before he did, slipping into the bed and lying on his back with his hands behind his head. I shuffled over, nestling into him, his damp armpit hair tickling the side of my neck. He stared at the ceiling. Through the open doorway, light from the hallway spilled in, casting me in shadow but bathing Liuz in a lemon glow. He looked adorable, the muscles of his torso plainly evident, the dark stubble on his face something I wanted to lick. My pussy spasmed as I thought of that short, sharp hair brushing the insides of my thighs, between my pussy lips, and I pressed my legs together.

I smiled, content, for once, not to have sex with him. His heart thudded dully beneath my ear, and he pulled one hand out from behind his head and cradled me to him.

‘We are terrible people,
Aniolku
, lying to the police, but we did what we had to do.’

Oh, Lord, he was having an attack of conscience, was feeling this harder than he’d let on.

‘I know,’ I said, draping my arm over his stomach and holding him tightly.

‘I keep telling myself it will get better; time will make this all go away.’ He paused, then, ‘But there is still the issue of me owing Grant the money. His men will want it.’

‘They might do, but you paid him back.’

‘I do not think two fucks with you covered the cost.’

‘No,’ I said, leaning up on one elbow. ‘You paid him back and the killers stole it.’ I wasn’t even shocked at my devious mind. I realised when backed into a corner, you fought however you could to keep yourself safe. ‘It isn’t your fault they stole the cash. I told the police they stole your money, too.’