Twisted Mind (Chequered Flag #2) (6 page)

Tazia may have been like a soothing balm, yet my wounds were too big and too raw for her to have any effect. Seeing Elora tore me open even further so it was like trying to use a plaster to fix an amputated limb.

“Fuck it, I’m out of here. I’ll wait in the car.”

I caught a brief glimpse of shock and hurt flittering through Tazia’s eyes, which I ignored. My sneakers squeaked against the tiles as I fled.

I needed my cards.

In the car park I broke out into a run. I threw the passenger’s door open and dove into the seat. I ripped the glove box open and desperately grasped for the deck I kept there. Tipping the pile out into my hand I allowed the box to fall to the floor and shuffled the cards.

With a deep breath, I stared at the shiny surfaces and began organising them.

Ace of diamond, ace of clubs, ace of hearts, ace of spades.

Next the kings, queens, jacks.

Working my way through the pile I attempted to dispel the anger infecting me.

I hated the bitch. I couldn’t even catch a glimpse of her without wanting to punch something.

And I’d left Tazia alone with her.

I groaned and tipped my head back against the headrest. Hell, I needed to go back in.

I couldn’t have Elora fucking with Tazia or revealing too much. Tazia didn’t need to know what had screwed me up because I didn’t want her pity or sympathy. And I certainly didn’t want Elora warping her view of me.

I waited until I’d organised the deck then slipped it back into the box. I slid out of the car reluctantly and slammed the door a little harder than necessary.

God help Elora if she fucked with either of us.

Chapter Nine

Tazia

I stared after Dustin, wondering what I’d said to send him into such a fit of rage. I’d only been teasing. However, his reaction brought home the message I knew nothing about him. With his joking and playful banter I’d forgotten there were some underlying issues, and his reaction only proved Dustin was far from okay.

The striking woman who’d obviously been checking him out had poker straight, flame-coloured hair and deep black eyeliner rimming her piercing blue eyes. I had no idea why she kept heading in my direction when Dustin had left.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve ever met. Are you one of Dustin’s relatives?”

I pursed my lips, studying her. I had no intention of giving answers to a complete stranger. Knowing vaguely about Dustin’s career she could have been anyone and I didn’t want to jeopardise anything for him. “Sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

The woman held a hand over her heart and feigned bashfulness. “I’m Elora, Dustin’s fiancée.”

I struggled to prevent my jaw falling slack. Out of all the things I expected her to say, the word ‘fiancée’ wasn’t one of them. I’d have thought Dustin would have mentioned something as big as being engaged. He’d mentioned Raine after all, and a fiancée was much more significant.

I glanced down at Elora’s hand in suspicion to find her ring finger bare.

She must have caught me looking because she folded her hands in front of her. “We’re getting the ring designed. He wanted it to be unique.”

“Right. Well, congratulations.” I conjured a tight smile. “I’d better finish up shopping. It was good meeting you.”

Elora blocked my path, her expression as false as my words. “Hold on a second, you never said who you are.”

“And I’m not going to.”

“I think I have the right to know why my fiancé is shopping with another woman, don’t you?”

A wall of muscle pushed in between the two of us, blocking my view of Elora, and halting my insulting retort.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Elora?” Dustin spat, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. Anger flowed off him in palpable waves, his muscles coiled tightly in an attempt to contain it. When I stepped to peer around him I expected to see him right in her personal space. It surprised me to find he’d left a sizable gap between them.

“I’m introducing myself to your
friend
here.” Elora, reached up to place her hand on the slowly fading red scratches on his cheek. The way she glowered at me sent a shiver down my spine and her voice held no warmth.

Dustin raised his hand to encircle her wrist when Elora started to curl her fingers against his skin.

“Why would you need to introduce yourself?” He lowered her hand. I could see the restrained power in his grip as he consciously controlled himself. The only clue as to how close he was to breaking were the trembles shooting through his free hand. “You’re nothing to me anymore.”

Elora’s next movement came so quickly had I blinked I would have missed it. A loud clap rang out in the aisle and Dustin’s head snapped to the side. His hand flew to cover his cheek and I gasped, not believing she’d hit him in the middle of a supermarket where everyone could see. By the looks of the startled glances thrown our way, neither could the other customers along the same aisle.

“You bastard.” She raised her hand again, only Dustin intercepted it and swiftly composed himself.

It started to become clear where the scratches had come from in the first place.

“I’m not discussing this, Elora. And I now have three witnesses to your violence. Either walk away or I
will
be phoning the police.”

“Dustin, please. I miss you.” Her words were barely a whisper. Tears brimmed in her eyes and her posture hunched as she tried to play the vulnerable woman card.

Dustin took a step back. Whether it was to make sure he kept out of striking distance I couldn’t be sure.

“Do us all a favour and walk away, Elora. This is your last warning.”

Dustin angled his body so he could focus on me and still see Elora. “Do you have everything you need?”

I nodded, too alarmed to form a sentence.

“Go and wait in the car. I’ll pay for all of this and meet you back there, okay?”

A part of me didn’t want to leave him alone for fear of what would happen, but it wasn’t my business. The only reassurance I had was I knew Dustin could physically restrain her if need be.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

With hesitant steps I headed in the direction of the exit. I peered over my shoulder one final time to see Dustin standing toe-to-toe with Elora, their bodies locked in a standoff.

* * *

I managed to refrain from speaking throughout the whole drive home until we were parked outside our block of flats. I told myself it wasn’t my business and I nearly convinced myself. However, I wanted it to be my business and I wanted to heal the man beside me by showing him not every woman was a bitch.

Because Elora couldn’t be described as anything else.

In fact, she was probably infinitely worse, and what I’d seen only scratched the surface of the fucked up relationship they must have had.

If Dustin had been battling that crazy person day in, day out, I wasn’t surprised by his drunken stupor. I didn’t condone it, though I could understand it slightly more.

“Do you want to talk about what happened back there?” I asked gently, casting Dustin a sidelong glance, still hesitant about his reaction. I knew hardly anything about him and the fury radiated from him to fill the car. Though the thought he could hurt me never entered my mind, I knew his anger would have to come out at some point and I couldn’t predict what form it would take.

“No.” He forced out the curt reply through a clenched jaw. His hands circled the steering wheel, tightening until his knuckles whitened.

“Has she done that before?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Tazia.”

“But—”

“I said no!” He smashed a hand down on the steering wheel. “It’s none of your business.”

I bit down on my lip, debating whether to say more. I wanted him to know he could talk to me and I’d be there for him. However, he’d reached his limit. I slipped from the car without a word. While I fiddled with my crutches, I saw Dustin’s shoulders heave with an exhale as he hung his head. He rested it against the steering wheel, his eyes screwed shut.

To give him a modicum of privacy I walked to the back of the car and opened the boot. I struggled with the three bags, fighting them when a door slammed shut. A second later Dustin appeared by my side.

“Let me take those.” He held out a hand.

“No I’m good. Thanks for all of the help.” I could see his desire to be shot of me and helping me with my shopping would only prolong the experience.

“Come on, Taz. Let me take them. We’re heading the same way after all.”

With a
humph
I handed over the bags. “Thank you.”

Together we waited for the lift to ascend. When the doors opened, Dustin allowed me to exit first and he trailed behind me with heavy footsteps. He paused by my door and waited for me to open it.

“You can leave them there.” I pointed at the floor. “I’ve got it from here.”

Dustin hesitated for a second, then finally decided to listen to me. Placing the bags down, he pulled out his own keys and retreated to his door.

“Dustin,” I called and he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m here if you want to talk. I don’t know what you’re going through, but remember; I’m fucked up too. I won’t judge you.” It was hard to joke about my past, even to make someone else feel better. Unfortunately, Dustin didn’t take it that way. Without acknowledging my comment he closed the distance between him and his door, unlocking it swiftly.

“I’ll see you around, Tazia.” He shut the door, leaving me staring at the forest green paint. It took me a moment to engage my brain and get moving again since a part of me hoped he would come back out. When I realised he wasn’t I grabbed my shopping one bag at a time and struggled in to my kitchen.

Flicking on the radio I emptied the bags and put away the baking supplies I wasn’t going to need. Thanks to Elora’s impromptu public display I hadn’t managed to get all of the shopping I needed. At least I had the ingredients for macarons, though.

With a sigh I ordered all the items on top of the counter. I knew the recipe by heart, having made them so many times my limbs moved automatically as I stirred, whisked, and piped.

It took me hardly any time to have the orange coloured passion fruit circles in the oven. Then I got to work on the chocolate filling. I couldn’t resist dipping my finger in the mixture, licking off the rich, chocolaty goodness with a satisfied hum.

Chocolate always made everything better. I was banking on it because I couldn’t get Dustin out of my mind. I didn’t want him going out and getting pissed again. And although I wasn’t expecting him to pour his heart out to me, I didn’t think he should be alone. I’d been in similar positions and being alone made everything worse, especially with no comfort food. By the state of his flat when I’d been there, I didn’t think he’d been shopping for a while.

Takeout pizza didn’t count.

The oven timer pinging caught my attention. The bake looked perfect and the smell alone made my mouth water.

As I assembled the macarons an idea came to me. I couldn’t control the grin tugging at my lips. I planned to bribe Dustin into seeing me with food. He had mentioned Raine had a sweet tooth so I hoped he did too. If not, he could seriously need a sugar high. At least it’d be better than an alcoholic stupor.

Once I’d sandwiched the final macaron together, I picked up my piping bag again.

Chapter Ten

Dustin

I grumbled at the insistent knocking on my front door. I knew who it was and for a split second I considered not answering. After all, if I wanted company I wouldn’t have retreated to my flat. Nevertheless, I had a feeling Tazia wouldn’t leave until I answered. She struck me as the stubborn type.

Dropping the pizza boxes I’d been cleaning up in the recycle bin, I brushed off the crumbs stuck to my hands and wiped them on my jeans. My palms were surprisingly sweaty and my rapid heartbeat only made them worse. I couldn’t be sure whether the nerves were because of Tazia’s presence, or the thought she’d have me spilling my guts within minutes of opening the door. I assumed it was the latter option, and still I couldn’t find the willpower to send her away. I needed her to erase the remnants of my thoughts that hadn’t been dissolved by my furious cleaning session.

It was strange how fast I’d come to rely on Tazia. I didn’t know how she’d done it, but she’d worked her way past all of my anger and grief quicker than anyone I’d known. I thought it would be years before I let someone in again. Elora hadn’t blinded me to people’s goodness or created a bitterness against the opposite sex. I knew the majority of women were nothing like her. However, I didn’t think I’d
want
to move on so quickly, or find myself worrying more over Tazia telling me she was fucked up than the idea of revealing my secrets.

Composing myself, I pulled open the door.

Tazia greeted me with a magazine worthy grin that showed all of her teeth. She had piled her raven hair into a messy bun on top of her head and a few tendrils had broken free to frame her face. A white powder covered her shirt in blotches and a smudge of something resembling chocolate trailed down over her right breast to the top of her cleavage.

I gulped at the sight, my tongue swiping over my lower lip. Her dishevelled appearance reminded me of bed head…after really good sex.

I stopped the thought in its tracks. The last thing I should have been considering were fantasies of Tazia sprawled out across my bed with hot, chocolate sauce dripping over her—

And there I went, back at it again.

I blinked a few times to bring her into focus and I swallowed, my throat suddenly feeling swollen. Whether it was down to the fantasies or the guilt rising over having them while still grieving I couldn’t be sure.

“Dustin?”

Quickly composing myself, I braced an arm on the doorframe above my head. “Is everything okay?”

She appeared momentarily perplexed by my question. No doubt she’d expected to find me drunk out of my mind again or in a fit of rage.

I hated she had that opinion of me because of one fucking day. If she’d moved in a day earlier or a day later I wouldn’t have been stuck with a reputation I needed to dispel.

Maybe it was for the best, though, because knowing I could ruin Tazia’s opinion of me made me want to change completely. Even when I shouldn’t have, I wanted her and I couldn’t risk scaring her off by getting pissed every night. No matter how successful the alcohol was at deadening my pain, Tazia soothed me more and I couldn’t afford to lose her.

“I baked you happy macarons,” she stated, and although I didn’t think it possible, her lips curved even more.

“What’s a happy macaron?”

“Macarons that are happy to see you.” She opened the lid on the tub she held and giggled. Like jingle bells at Christmas, the sweet sound warmed me from the inside out and melted the defences I’d built around my heart a little more.

I glanced down into the box, doing a double take. Staring back up at me were about forty orange macarons, each with an individual expression. My lips quirked.

“I can’t believe you said that.”

“What? They’re macarons and they
are
happy to see you. See?” She shoved the box beneath my nose. The biscuits were so close they blurred.

The box hit me in the nose, followed shortly by another giggle. “Oops.”

When she pulled it away I arched an eyebrow at her bouncing figure. “Have you been drinking?”

“I may have eaten a
teensy
bit too much sugar while making these.” Tazia held up her fingers to measure around a centimetre and squinted at them.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “You may want to lie and go with the alcoholic option next time.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “So you don’t sound like a kid who’s just come home from trick or treating on Halloween?”

She dismissed my comment with a
pfft
. “I don’t sound like anything. I’m happy and I made happy macarons to make you happy. And by the look on your face, I succeeded. You’re welcome, neighbour.”

“Now who’s the dork?”

She gave me her best doe-eyed expression, and fluttered her eyelashes. “I’m a cute dork who brought goodies. So, can I come in?”

My gaze lowered to her cleavage, then drifted to her hips. No doubt she didn’t mean those were the goodies she’d brought with her, yet it didn’t stop my mind from wandering. “What kind of goodies?”

Tazia lowered her head to trace the same path of my eyes. I knew the instant she realised what I meant because her complexion flushed and she averted her gaze as her mouth opened to form an O.

She raised her hand as if moving to swat me, then stopped abruptly.

Her hand hovered hesitantly in mid-air and guilt seeped into her features. All traces of humour vanished, her expression sobering to transform into pity.

Fucking pity.

It was why I hadn’t told anyone about Elora. I never wanted to be seen as a victim, and it was exactly how Tazia stared at me—like I was a hundred year old doll who had been taken out of its box for the first time and needed to be handled with white gloves and care. I knew the difference between a playful swat and a malicious attack. I wasn’t stupid and I didn’t want her to ever censor herself around me.

She had actually managed to make me forget until one single action brought it all rushing back.

“Don’t, Taz,” I pleaded.

“But—”

“I said no. I’m not talking about it, I’m not thinking about it, and I know you’re nothing like her. Don’t bloody apologise, and stop looking at me like you feel sorry for me.”

The smile she dredged up felt forced. Her eyes creased, though the whole gesture appeared strained. “Are you going to try one then? I’ve been told they’re heaven in a box. They’re bound to bring you pleasure and happiness.”

I stared at her, waiting for her to catch up and realise what she’d said again. “I wish I’d been recording our conversation so I could clip it. It could have made for interesting YouTube viewing.” I sniggered. “‘I brought goodies. They’re bound to bring you pleasure and happiness.’”

The blush on her cheeks deepened. Even the tips of her ears changed colour. With her free hand she covered her eyes with a groan. “Oh God.”

“I bet I could make you moan like that using your
goodies
.” I couldn’t understand where my comments came from, or why I couldn’t drag my mind from the gutter around Tazia, but she brought out something in me. I wanted to see her blush and erase the lingering tension. Sex jokes were perfect.

Who didn’t love sex jokes?

“Will you take the damned biscuits and shut your mouth?” She thrust the box at my chest.

I grinned down at her. “Why? Am I getting you all hot and bothered?”

She fixed me with a challenging stare which was dampened by her gulp. “Of course not, the only thing I’m craving is sugar. I can feel my high wearing off, so either let me in or I’m taking me and my goodies home.”

I stepped back from the door and swept my arm out to gesture her past me. She smelt like sugar as she breezed into my flat. It was a sweet, homely scent of baked goods and chocolate which stirred my desire to taste every inch of her skin.

“Do you want a drink?” I asked, needing to put some distance between us before I did something stupid. My voice had already deepened to a hoarse rasp.

Tazia studied the coffee table where I hadn’t managed to clear up the bottles. At her wariness, I scrubbed a hand over the day old stubble on my chin.

“I meant a soft drink, Taz. There isn’t any alcohol left in the house even if you wanted some.”

“Shocker.”

I chose to ignore the sarcasm in her deliberate dig. “Did you want a drink?”

“Milk, please.” With slow steps she made her way over to my sofa and regarded the bottles with distaste as she sat down.

“Milk? Really?”

“What else do you drink with biscuits?”

“Tea, coffee, hot chocolate.”

She scrunched up her nose at my suggestions, a few crinkles forming between her eyebrows. “Milk, please.”

With a resigned shake of my head I left her to make a coffee for myself and get her drink. Within a few minutes I returned to see she hadn’t moved, though she’d reopened the box of macarons on her lap to munch away on one.

“Haven’t you eaten enough of those?” Tazia’s shoulders rose abruptly when my voice startled her. With a deliberate movement she met my gaze and slid the second half of the macaron between her lips, a defiant glint in her eyes.

“No,” she mumbled, her hand covering her mouth to muffle the sound even further.

I chuckled and held out the glass to her. When I sat down beside her, she hummed a thank you. At least I assumed it was a thank you. For all I knew she could have been calling me an asshole considering none of the words were decipherable, her voice just a continuous sound that fluctuated in pitch.

I took a sip of my coffee then pointed at the box. “Can I have one?”

I thought I’d better check because Tazia seemed weirdly attached to the biscuits. I didn’t want her snapping the box shut on my hand. She shrugged and pushed the tub in my direction.

“Why’d you bake me macarons then?” I took a bite and couldn’t stop the guttural hum of approval from slipping out. “These are really good.”

“I know. They’re my speciality.”

“If you think I’m letting you take the rest of the box home, you’ve got another thing coming.”

“I made them so I get to decide who eats them.”

“Sure, that was true until you brought them over here. If I remember correctly you told me you’d made
me
happy macarons. Why, by the way?”

Tazia glanced down at her lap, her teeth dragging over her lip. She peered up at me through her thick, dark eyelashes. “Honestly?”

“Of course.”

“I thought you could use a friend. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving you alone after…um…after what happened at the shop.” By her nerves I presumed she was preparing herself for me to lose it again and throw her out.

Instead I simply said, “Thank you.”

She snapped her head up, her eyes holding mine in disbelief. “You’re not mad?”

“Who could be mad when you bribe them with food tasting this amazing?” I grinned and reached for another macaron. This one had a face with a tongue sticking out on it.

“Does this mean you’re ready to talk about what happened?”

My hand froze halfway between the box and my mouth, all of the blood pouring down to my feet like a rainstick as shots of trepidation seized my muscles. I struggled to catch up with the thoughts running away from me as I weighed my options.

Tazia had seen Elora’s actions; it wouldn’t be anything new if I told her. She could already judge me on what she’d seen. Adding to the list of cruelties bestowed upon me by Elora wouldn’t make much difference. I’d already seen the pity she felt after all. Regardless, a small section of pride didn’t want me detailing my life to a virtual stranger. It was why I’d cut Raine and Teo off. People would view me differently and I would become a victim again.

I didn’t want people to whisper behind my back or check up on me. All I wanted—no
desired
—was to move on. I needed to get over everything and leave it in the past if I had any hope of succeeding. And for some reason, Tazia helped me. I doubted it was intentional on her part, though I reasoned she deserved the truth if I planned to use her in secret.

I leaned back against the sofa and puffed out my cheeks. I kneaded the back of my neck and exhaled heavily. “What do you want to know?”

Silence lingered for nearly a minute. Tazia appeared deep in thought, her expression impassive before finally settling on a mix of confusion and resentment. “Were you really engaged to that…um what’s a nice way of putting this? Bitch?”

Her question stumped me. I’d been preparing myself to conjure answers for the reasons behind the violence. Tazia didn’t seem like a person to dodge the major issues and I thought she would remember that most from the day. Unless she wanted to ease me in gently.

“No. I’ve never been engaged to her, and I never will be.”

Tazia nodded. She reminded me of a doctor waiting to diagnose a problem. “Why did Elora say she was then?”