Dirty Seduction

ROSIE

I’LL COME DOWN.

Those were the three words I sent before I got dressed and prepared myself. I didn’t know how it would go, or how tempers might escalate, or how the hell she’d react to me, but despite my stomach churning and nerves making my hands shake, I knew that I had to be truthful. On every level.

Julian was at my side as I brushed my hair in the mirror. “Are you absolutely certain you don’t want me to come with you? You only have to say the word.”

That sentiment meant so much, but I shook my head with a smile, turning into his arms for a hug.

“Thank you, but I’ll do this alone. I’ll be back up when I’m done, don’t worry.”

His eyes were so beautiful, so loving. “I hope that’s a pinky promise.”

“It’s more than a pinky promise, I promise,” I said.

And then I braced myself. Time to do it.

“Call me if you need me,” Julian said then dropped a kiss on my forehead. “I will.”

And then he let me go.

My heart was racing and my hands were trembling as I descended the stairs.

I opened our front door and stepped inside without the pretence of a bag full of things. I wasn’t going to be pretending I was leaving Jenny and returning home.

Mum was waiting for me, sitting on the sofa without her phone in her hands for once. I could see she’d been crying. A lot. Her eyes were puffy and red, and I got a stab of guilt in the heart. I’d seen Mum struggling with her emotions to breaking point plenty of times before, but it wasn’t usually down to me. I was always the one trying to help her, not hurt her.

Her attention was all on me as I dropped myself down in the armchair.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Mum said. “Jenny is the man upstairs? Julian?”

I wasn’t going to deny it, despite the pain in her eyes.

“Yeah, Jenny is Julian. She’s been Julian from the start.”

“I can’t believe this,” she said, and the tears started up again.

I had the urge to say I was sorry, but I wasn’t sorry. Julian was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I didn’t rush over to help her through her tears.

I kept quiet as she tried to calm her breaths. I waited until she was ready to speak again.

“You’ve been fucking Julian? For weeks?” she said, more tears threatening. “And you didn’t even think of telling me? Why the hell not? Why would you do this? Why would you be with him?! It’s fucking sick, Rosie. SICK!” I clasped my hands together, stayed steady.

“I didn’t want to tell anyone about any of it. It’s between me and him, not the whole of Worcester. I’m sure it’s been shouted from the rooftops by now, though. Thanks to Trisha.”Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

“Trisha cares!” Mum shouted. “She cares about you! That’s why she’s so bothered! That’s the fucking reason she went to the Brewery Tavern and asked the questions about him in the first place! Because she fucking CARES!”

Shit. That made things more complicated. I knew Julian had confessed a load of trash in there when he was wasted and alone. I should have known Trisha would head down there and milk it dry.

“TRISHA CARES!” Mum yelled again. “That’s why they told her! They told her everything. EVERYTHING!”

I could imagine her there, bitching at the bar, digging for yet more gossip and ammo. I hated the thought of her smug face. I couldn’t help but sneer.

“Yeah, sure Trisha gives a shit. Right. Yeah, whatever.”

“SHE DOES!”

I took a deep breath and shook my head. This time I was going to hold my ground.

“If Trisha really cared and had been there for me, US, when we needed her, I wouldn’t have knocked on Julian’s door in the first place.”

Mum looked like she’d been slapped. Like I’d insulted her, not her best friend.

“Oh right, so this is Trisha’s fault now, is it? It’s Trisha’s fault you opened your legs for a pervert, despite my fucking warnings. That makes you as sick as him!”

I managed to laugh at that. “Julian isn’t sick, or a pervert. The people in the pub can say what they like, and Trisha can twist it all she wants, but he isn’t a sicko, Mum. It’s just stupid.”

I shrugged at just how dumb this saga was turning out, because it was stupid. It was like being in a playground.

“You think this is funny, do you?” Mum said. “You’re telling me, that you, my fucking daughter, is fucking a dirty old pervert, and you think it’s fucking funny? Do I look like I’m finding it funny? Don’t be a stupid cow, Rosie. Don’t fucking laugh at me.”

Here it was again. Mum making this about her, and her pain, and her disappointment, and how shit she felt inside. Normally it would be fine. She has a shitty past, and shitty people around her, and is always hurting, and I would always, ALWAYS try to help her. But not tonight. Not in this. I wasn’t going to back down.

“Actually, I do think it’s funny,” I told her. “It’s so stupid it is funny. You don’t know him. I’ve found out he’s the opposite of a sicko, thanks. He’s not a dirty old pervert, and I know it, first hand.”

She didn’t give my words even the slightest bit of respect.

“You think you know it all, as fucking usual. And that’s because you’re just a fucking kid and don’t know any better. He’s taking advantage of you! He’s been grooming you to be a little plaything, and you’re not the first. He’s been doing it to LOADS of girls! LOADS! That’s why he came here in the first fucking place! He’s on the run. A dirty fucking criminal.”

I had to pull a face. “A criminal? On the run from who?”

“The police!”

I had to shake my head again at the fucking stupidity.

“You think Julian is on the run from the police? Seriously? Are you for real?”

Jesus, the people at the pub really were gossiping. Every time stuff got whispered ear to ear by drunk, stupid mouths the claims got more ridiculous.

Mum was looking at me like I was a total fucking idiot.

“You’re a kid! You’re just too young to see! I should call the police myself to get him arrested. I might, you know. I might!”

That was too much for me. I was just a kid now, was I? Shame I wasn’t just a kid when I should have been one. I wasn’t just a kid when it was me picking up the pieces of drama, hurt, betrayal and unpaid bills. And she wanted to call the police now? Really? Due to rumours about a guy she didn’t even know rather than the guy who actually beat the shit out of people? Who beat the shit out of her?

“It’s YOU who’s talking shit now!” I said, as my hurt flamed up into rage. “Maybe you should be the one to grow the fuck up around here! Have you ever thought about that?!”

She opened her mouth like I was a criminal myself.

“Sorry, what?! What did you just say to me?”

She knew exactly what I’d just said to her. I found the strength to meet her eyes.

“I’m not a kid, Mum. Don’t pretend I am. I know who I am, and I know what I’m doing, and if you want to accept it and listen to me for once and not fucking Trisha then that’s great. I’ll love it, but if you don’t, then you don’t. Your choice.”

Her eyes were still so hurt.

“My choice about what? You’re going to choose a sicko criminal over me, are you?!”

That was it. The red hot poker in the wound. I got up from my seat, my own tears springing up as my finger jabbed in her direction.

“POT FUCKING KETTLE! You’ve been choosing a sicko criminal over me for YEARS! You’ve been choosing sicko criminals over me since I really was a little kid!”

It was too much. The hurt overflowed. I didn’t want to be there.

I walked away, storming over to my bedroom, and I pulled out the big old suitcase from under my bed, tossing my stuff in there, on a fucking mission.

Mum appeared in the doorway with wide eyes.

“Where are you going?”

“Where do you think?”

“You’re going up there? To him?”

“YES! To Julian. Think he’s a sicko all you like, I don’t care. It’s not as if you ever care what I think in return.”

“You’re being crazy! Stop it. You’re out of your fucking head.”

“No, I’m not.” I sounded so resolute because I was. I was still throwing things in my case, even a stash of shitty costume jewellery from my bedside drawer. “I’m probably in my head for the first time in my life.”

“No. You’re not! Listen to me! I’m your mum!”

Damnit. I didn’t want any more arguing. I didn’t want to have to bluster out explanations, or bullshit excuses that didn’t need to be made. It wouldn’t make any difference. We were done here. The only regret I had was that I wished it had been me who’d broken the news before Trisha started spouting shit, but that was Trisha all over. One look at Mum’s face as she stood in my doorway put that thought to bed, though. She wouldn’t listen to me in a million years. She’d probably call Trisha up the second I was out of there, and they could bitch together over a bottle of wine while Mum cried. Me and Julian could both be the bad guys to their self-righteousness.

I zipped my case up, full. The rest of my stuff would have to wait for another day. I lugged the bulky suitcase from the bed with my teeth gritted, barging right past her on the way to the front door. But no. Not yet. I had something to give her first.

I grabbed my keys from my pocket and threw them over to land at her feet. I wouldn’t be needing them anymore.

Mum knew that I was serious then. I had more strength than I’d ever had in my life. She picked up the keys and stared at them in her hand, horrified.

“You do know he’s taking advantage of you, right?” She tried again. “It’s so obvious. He’s an asshole! A sick asshole! I’m trying to protect you! I’m trying!”

Yeah. As if.

Maybe in her deluded version of the world and what was going down here, she was trying, but in mine she was talking shit. I couldn’t take it anymore.

The front door was open. The case was in my hand, and I was almost out of there. Almost. The tears were springing, and my heart was pumping, and the rage was swirling, and I wanted to be upstairs with Julian. I wanted to be out of that place. But I waited, just a moment. I shot Mum one more glance with tears in my eyes. Time for the final pieces of truth now.

“Julian wasn’t an asshole when he pulled Scottie off you to save your life. And he wasn’t an asshole when he saved me from the piece of shit, too.” My eyes must have been so cold. “Enjoy your time with Trisha. I’ll be upstairs with the man who saved me from the true sicko around here. I hope Scottie burns in hell.”

I stepped forward. I was ready.

“Wait, what?” she asked. “What’s this got to do with Scottie?”