Stanton Bliss: Stanton (11 page)

He purses his lips.

‘The police, Amelie, her helpers.” I raise an eyebrow.

His eyes drop.

“Anal.”

His eyes flick back up to mine.

“Yes, Josh. We were filmed having anal sex. We were filmed in every derogatory position you can imagine and it’s forever burned into my brain.”

“For fucks sake.” He growls as he runs his hands though his hair angrily.

“Can we stay at the hotel we stayed at when we got broken into for a little while when we get back?” I ask.

“Yes, of course,” he mutters, lost deep in thought.

Thunder claps loudly and my eyes drift to look out of the window. It’s getting dark and cloudy outside. My mind goes back to me walking in the forest after I escaped during the time before the impending storm. I was so desperate to find shelter before the rain started. The dark forest was so unwelcoming and I kept staring up at the sky, willing it to hold off. A cold chill runs down my spine as the memory becomes too real, too raw.

Stop it. It’s over.

It’s so cold. I walk into my bedroom and retrieve a woollen blanket from the end of our bed, wrapping it around me for protection. I’m hoping that by warming myself up it’s going to make the memory of being cold and petrified leave me. It thunders again and I sit down on the end of the lounge, bringing my feet up in front of me. Please, stop. Please don’t rain. My heart rate starts to pick up and my anxiety rises.

Joshua watches me. “You ok?” He frowns.

“I’m just tired,” I reply too quickly.

“We will have an early dinner and turn in.”

“Yes.”

The thunder rumbles loudly and I jump. I get a flash of me sitting on the bed in the dark with a gun, staring out the window as the lightning flashed. The rain is hitting the window and my feet are hurting. I’m wearing clothes that are way too big and smell of camphor. I stand and walk to the bedroom. I need to get away from all of this.

More thunder.

I see myself breaking the glass with a rock to get into that house. I inhale deeply. God, stop it.

I sit on the end of the bed and close my eyes. Calm down, calm down. The heavy raindrops start to fall, and I feel my anxiety rise further.

“Natasha?” Joshua asks quietly as he comes after me. “Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” I snap. Just leave me a fucking lone.

“Do you want a cup of tea?”

I nod. “Yes, please.” He walks back into the kitchen and the rain comes down – heavy torrential rain – and I feel tears swell in my eyes. The vision of waiting in that tin shed with a gun in the pouring rain takes over me. I hate this. I hate seeing this. Make it stop.

“Here.”

I look up in surprise to see Joshua is back with my tea already. I go to take it, but my hand is shaking.

Joshua watches my hand for a moment. “You are getting a migraine.” His voice is soft and caring.

I drop my head.

It continues to pelt down with rain and I scrunch up my face in pain as the vision of Amelie standing in front of me fills my head.

Joshua drops to sit next to me on the bed. “What is it, baby?”

I’m holding the gun at her and she’s goading me. I close my eyes to try and block it out.

“Tash, what’s wrong? Tell me what’s wrong.”

I shake my head and screw up my face. “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

Joshua wraps his arms around me. “Ssh.”

The lightning crashes again and I jump in his arms.

“Its ok, baby. Its ok,” he whispers.

I start to cry uncontrollably against Joshua’s chest as he holds me.

“You don’t have the guts.”
Amelie sneers in my mind.

I feel myself lose control and pull the trigger three times.

She falls to the ground bleeding and my tortured eyes meet Joshua’s.

“I killed her.” I sob. “She died because of me.”

The noisy rain comes down and I cry even harder. “M-make it stop,” I stammer.

“Make the rain stop.”

“Baby, let’s get into the shower,” Joshua whispers.

I nod nervously.

“Natasha,” I hear Cameron yell from the front door.

“In here,” Joshua calls out.

Cameron walks in and his face drops. He sits on the other side of me on the bed. “Are you ok, babe?” he asks.

“No, she’s not,” Joshua answers for me.

“It’s the rain,” Cameron whispers.

“Huh?”

“It’s the rain. It’s making me think of it, too.”

“What do you mean?” Joshua asks.

“It was raining heavy for days when Natasha was running and hiding. The day with the…” He stops midsentence, unsure what to say.

Joshua squeezes me to his chest just that little bit harder.

“Make it stop, Cam,” I whisper through my tears.

The lightning crashes and I lose control, slapping my hands over my ears as I cower and curl into Joshua with fright.

“Jesus.” He holds me tight.

The lightning cracks again, and I cry out loud, holding my hands over my ears.

“Give her something!” Joshua snaps.

“Like what?”

“A fucking sedative.”

“I do have her migraine medication with me in case she needed it,” he replies.

I begin to cry out loud.

“Christ,” Cameron mutters as he stands.

“Fine. Hurry up.”

The last thing I remember is Cameron giving me a needle and Joshua carrying me to the shower. I fall into an almost zombie state as my brain tries to shut out the horror.

“It’s ok, Presh. I’m here. I’ve got you, baby.”

The horror of post-traumatic stress lives within me. I am sombre and I’m tired. I don’t now where I want to be, but I know it isn’t here, dealing with this.

The trip from the airport to the hotel our temporary home in L.A. – is made in complete silence. It’s 1am and Ben, who is driving, has just had an altercation with a photographer at the airport. He was only trying to protect me. The photographer tried to grab me to get his shot when Ben lost it, pushed him, sending the photographer flying until he fell over.

They will try and sue him, they always do.

Is this our new life?

Paparazzi will go into overdrive with the news that we have returned and will all be waiting for the first shots. What a mess. Joshua is wound up and nobody is speaking. After my little breakdown on Tuesday, I spent the next two days in bed with Cameron and Joshua fussing over me. Trying to will me back to life.

It worked… just.

Joshua has insisted that Cameron goes and stays with Adrian and Bridget for a few days. Cameron is struggling, too, and I know my husband is concerned for his beloved brother. We have all noticed that he hasn’t been his carefree self since we have been in Kamala. Cameron’s mind is preoccupied with regret. Could we have saved Amelie if we had done things differently? We will never get the chance to know now, and I think that’s half the battle: the feeling of helplessness we all share.

The finality of the situation.

We pull into the round driveway and Joshua leads me out of the car where an attendant is waiting.

“Mr. Stanton, this way.” He gestures with his hand to the elevator. Joshua and I nod gratefully. A long check in would be unbearable at this stage of the night. Two minutes later, and on the tenth floor, we follow the attendant down the corridor, eventually spotting our security all standing outside the doors to their apartments. I nod a silent thank you for their support.

“Hello.”

They smile as we walk past.

The porter opens the door of the room we had last time. I look in and smile, I have happy memories here and a certain hot kind of massage runs naked through my mind.

Joshua nods. “Thank you.”

The attendant hands over two key cards.

“Nobody can access this level though the lifts?” Joshua asks.

“No, sir. All access has been blocked and the fire stairs are locked from the other side.”

“We will have a guard on the front doors at all times,” Joshua instructs.

My heart sinks and I know my life will be different forever.

“Of course.” The attendant nods nervously.

“Thank you.” Joshua nods back.

“If there is anything else, sir, please call this number directly.” He hands over a business card with his personal details on it.

Joshua nods and holds his hand out in a
get out of my fucking room
gesture, and I bite my bottom lip to contain my smile.

Joshua closes the door, turns to me and takes me in his arms.

“I think I need to give my girl a massage.”

I inhale his scent. “Yes, Mr. Stanton. Yes, you do.”

Joshua

“Yes,” I answer my phone. We have been back in L.A. for three weeks and I am in work mode.

My eyes drift to Cameron who is lying on the lounge in my office, skimming through his phone.

“Hello, Mr. Stanton. The keys have arrived from the real estate.”

“Thank you, Tiffany. I’ll collect them from you shortly.”

Adrian walks in with a bundle of papers and starts to rearrange them to file away.

“Tell me about this guy again?” Cameron asks as he sits up onto his elbow.

“He’s a kid, only just eighteen.” Adrian sighs.

I blow out a breath, this could be the most stupid thing I have ever done.

“So, let me get this straight. You meet some scummy kid in prison, and now you are giving him a job, an apartment and a car?” Cameron shakes his head in disgust.

“Yep, pretty much.”

“Don’t leave your wallets laying around, this is going to end fucking badly. You will come in one morning and your whole office will be cleaned out.” He smirks, clearly amused.

I sit back in my chair. “It could.”

“Why did you want me here? I don’t want to meet him.”

“Because I want you to help me with him.”

“The fuck I am.” He groans. “I want nothing to do with fucking criminals.”

I frown and inhale in frustration. “I think he’s a good kid, he just hasn’t had any opportunities.”

“What happened to you in prison? What are we, a fucking charity now?”

“No. Look, if he does one thing wrong, he goes back in. I paid his bail, I’m giving him a chance and if he fucks it up, I won’t make excuses for him.”

Adrian and Cameron look at each other, concerned. “He’s going to have to work hard. This isn’t a free ride.”

“What’s his name?” Adrian sighs.

I pick up the release papers on my desk and flick through them. “Jarvis.”

Adrian pouts. “Cool name.” He raises his eyebrows as if surprised.

I smirk.

Adrian narrows his eyes. “What is
that
look for?”

I shrug. “You two make out you are so gangster, but when it comes down to it, you’re both as soft as shit.”

“Fuck off,” Cameron mutters as he goes back to his phone. “I’m the king of gangster.”

“You still good for tonight?” I ask Cameron.

“Yes.” He sighs, annoyed.

Adrian and I smile at each other.

“And you will have to be there early to let them in.”

“I fucking know. Jesus Christ, you owe me some shit.”

I smile. “Thank you.”

A knock rings against the door. “Come in,” I yell.

Ben appears first, the small boy behind him looks petrified.

I smile and hold my hand out to shake his. “Jarvis, we meet again.”

He smiles. “Hey, fuck off.”

“Watch it.” Ben growls.

I smile at the private joke we have before my attention turns to Ben. “It’s ok, that’s what he calls me.”

Adrian’s face drops in horror. “Why would you call him that?”

The kid shrugs “Because those were the only two words he ever said in prison.”

The boys’ eyes all meet and they shake their heads and smile. “My apologies for not picking you up myself but I didn’t want to go back to that place. This is Cameron, my brother, and Adrian is the manager here.” He shakes their hands and tries to smile. He’s as nervous as hell. Poor kid. “And you know Ben, the head of my security.”

He turns to Ben and nods.

“Take a seat.” I gesture to the chair.

He falls into it, completely nervous. He’s wearing old clothes and appears un-kept. My eyes sweep over him. “Take a seat, Ben.”

Ben sits down next to Jarvis.

“I want to know why you went to prison.” I already know this but I want him to tell me.

He drops his head. “Stealing cars.”

I nod. “Why did you steal cars?”

He swallows nervously. “I had my reasons.”

My eyes hold his. “So, you used to steal cars, but in prison you gave up a million dollars to get me heroine when I asked you for it?”

He doesn’t answer me.

“Jarvis, I knew you could get it, so why didn’t you?”

He shrugs and looks to the floor.

I see Cameron and Adrian make eye contact with each other as they have light bulb moment as to why I want to help him.

“You even went so far as to tell the warden I wanted to kill myself and got me moved to protective custody. Why?”

He doesn’t answer.

“If you were so hard up for money, why did you do that?” I ask. “I really do want to know.”

“I knew you would regret it.”

My eyes hold his, but he looks away.

I swivel in my chair. “I have a business proposition for you.”

“I’m good. Thanks anyways.” He starts to stand.

“Sit down,” Ben orders. He falls nervously back into his chair.

“Let me rephrase that. You were going to be in prison for another two years, but now that I have paid your bail, you will do whatever I ask of you for two years.”

He looks at me, stone faced.

“You will work here at the office for me as a trainee. Nothing too hard at first, and we will help you with everything. I have rented you an apartment and we’ll go and get you a car tomorrow.”

He frowns.

My eyes drift to Adrian and then down at his clothing. “Adrian will go with you shopping this afternoon and buy you a new wardrobe.”

“This isn’t necessary.”

“Yes, it is.” I reply.

“You looked after me and now I am going to look after you, whether you like it or not.”

“I don’t fit in here.”

“I don’t care. You will in time. You are to leave that old life and those old friends behind you, or I will take you back to prison myself and you will have everything taken from you.”