Darkness Page 3

  “Oy, are you still awake?” scowled the woman, lifting her head.

  “Hmmm, what?” he said, dragging himself out of his reverie.

  “I’m working my arse off and you forgot I was here.”

  “Of course I didn’t forget err…Judy.”

  “My name’s Debbie,” she snapped, pushing herself up to a kneeling position.

  Jared felt himself wilt even more. In the gloom of the nightclub she’d looked a bit like Jules. Now, in the harsh light of a fifty watt bulb she was more like her ugly sister. Her body had appeared slim and inciting before but whereas Jules was firm and toned this woman was soft and doughy.

  “Whatever,” he sighed.

  “If you don’t start being nicer to me I’m leaving.”

  “You know where the door is.”

  “Bastard,” she hissed.

  Jared chuckled to himself as she dressed, muttering not very nice things about him under her breath.

  “Bastard,” she repeated before leaving, slamming the door shut behind her. He didn’t need to worry about her disturbing anyone, he was in a flat in Essex he’d bought just for himself because his mum didn’t like him taking women back to the family home. As it was the centre of their business operations he’d thought it a very sensible precaution.

  Jared had sent one of his men up north to spy on Jules and from the photos he’d taken of the girl Jared knew little Cara was blond and blue-eyed, just like himself. Driscoll was dark haired and eyed. Jules was dark haired too and she had slate grey eyes, just like her brothers. So where the hell had the blue and blond come from? Plus his mum had said Cara was the spitting image of himself as a baby and she was demanding he bring his daughter home, where she belonged. But Jared wasn’t going to be so hasty. He didn’t want to end up with a cuckoo in the nest. So he was arranging a DNA test first. He’d sent his best man to Manchester who was great at anything stealthy and sneaky. He’d get what was needed for the test. One thing was for sure - if Cara Driscoll turned out to be his daughter then she was coming home to daddy.

  CHAPTER 4

  Jules leapt on Jackson the second he walked through the front door, wrapping her legs around his waist and thrusting her tongue down his throat.

  “I’ve been aching for you to come home,” she breathed. “Cara’s fast asleep so now it’s Mummy and Daddy time.”

  “Jules, I…”

  “I’ve got the lubricant and whip ready.”

  A chuckle behind Jackson made her frown, although she remained locked around her husband. “Benson, what are you doing here?”

  Benson was a towering, muscular black man with intense dark eyes. He was Jackson’s best friend and had been best man at their wedding. He was also Jackson’s main rival in the cage fighting middleweight league. Behind Benson were two more equally leviathan-like men, who were all repressing laughter.

  “I invited the lads back for a couple of beers,” said Jackson.

  “But don’t worry,” said Benson. “We’ll leave you to it.”

  “You don’t have to go,” said Jules, finally unwinding herself from around Jackson. “You can come in for a drink but if you wake Cara I will cut off all your testicles and nail them to the front door.”

  Benson held up his hands. “Far be it from me to spoil an evening of lube and whips. You’re one lucky bastard Jax. See you tomorrow for training.”

  “Yep, see you tomorrow,” he said, closing the door behind them.

  “Aw, you’re blushing,” grinned Jules.

  “Next time please don’t say anything like that until you’re sure we’re completely alone.”

  “I didn’t know you were going to bring every cage fighter in Manchester back to our house. And on a week night too.”

  “They’re good lads, you know that. I wouldn’t bring anyone into our home I didn’t trust.”

  She nodded. “I know. Well, they’ve buggered off now. You want to indulge in whips and lube?”

  “No whips,” he said. “I’ve had a gutful of violence during training today.”

  “Oh,” she said, disappointed.

  He pulled her to him. “But I am in the mood for spanking your arse.”

  “Thank God for that. I thought you’d gone soft on me.”

  He ran his fingers down her face. “Never.”

  “Good because I could never be married to a sensitive Sally.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” he smiled. “Now let’s go upstairs. I want to be inside you five minutes ago.”

  Together they rushed upstairs, both of them failing to notice the vague shadow peering in through the window.

  Ryan felt a little nervous as he climbed into bed. Rachel was already there, sat up reading a book, wearing a very short and very delectable strapless white satin nightie. The contrast with her dark hair spilling down her shoulders was almost hypnotic but he tried not to stare as he pulled the duvet around himself and picked up his book. At the moment he was reading up on the history of the Aztecs and Mayans, which was the challenge Jules had sent him this month. As both their IQ’s were in the genius bracket and they both loved to learn, each month they took it in turns to set challenges, where the aim was to learn as much as they could on the chosen subject then discuss it at length to ascertain who had learned the most. Last month’s challenge was the works of Chaucer, which Jules had won by a very narrow margin. This had dented Ryan’s pride as he was the one who had picked that subject, so he was determined to win this one, plus he loved history, he found it so absorbing. Secretly he adored these intellectual challenges, Jules was the only one he could flex his intellectual muscle with. His family and friends were all intelligent people but none of them had the lust for learning that he and Jules shared and it was an excellent way for them to bond, their challenges had made them very close. However he couldn’t take in a single word of his book as he was so distracted by Rachel lying beside him. Even though his eyes were firmly locked on the pages before him she still filled his head, the warmth of her body beside his, her scent. But the cold strip of bed between them disheartened him. How he longed to feel her soft warm skin pressed against him, to taste her but she didn’t even seem to be aware of his presence.

  “Good book?” he asked her, careful to keep his gaze on the pages before him.

  “Hmm, yeah,” she replied, turning the page.

  “What are you reading?”

  “Just one of my tacky romances,” she said good-naturedly.

  “What’s the plot?” he said, hoping to engage her attention.

  “There isn’t much of one to be honest. Boy meets girl, boy pisses off girl, girl leaves him. Boy wins back girl. Happy ever after. Probably anyway, I haven’t got to the end yet but it is pretty predictable.”

  Ryan knew what a crock of shit the happy ever after stuff was. Rachel and their kids had been his happy ever after but their marriage had almost been destroyed by Thomas’s death and it was certainly on the rocks again. At least before they’d both known what the problem was but this time was so much worse because he had absolutely no idea what was pushing them apart.

  Unable to stand the awkwardness between them any longer, he put the book on the bedside cabinet, turned off his lamp and lay on his side, snuggling up to her. When he slid his arm around her waist he felt her tense then she relaxed when she realised his hand wasn’t going anywhere else.

  Deciding that was a good start, Ryan kissed her bare arm, making his way further up to her shoulder then her neck. He was jubilant when she released a soft sigh and let the book drop to her lap.

  Gently he tilted her face to his and kissed her, careful to keep his movements slow and soft. She slid one hand around his neck, her fingers playing through his hair, to his delight. This was the closest she’d let him get in days. He stroked the exposed skin of her upper back, alternately sliding his fingers through her hair, causing her to release a moan. The sound caused him to go rock hard and he struggled to keep his movements slow and gentle, the urge to plunge himself inside her
almost overwhelming. Ever so slowly his fingers made their way downwards.

  “Rachel, I’m sorry,” he said when she suddenly stiffened before pulling away.

  “It’s okay,” she mumbled, being careful to look everywhere but at him. “I guess I’m just not in the mood.”

  Ryan thought he would explode with frustration but he forced himself to remain calm. “Okay sweetheart, whatever you want.”

  She turned to look at him, her dark eyes wide and a little sad. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

  Ryan thought it was the least he could do. When Thomas had died he hadn’t been able to touch her physically for a short while because in his grief-stricken, illogical state the prospect of her getting pregnant again had terrified him because he couldn’t lose another child. At least he knew this time it couldn’t be that because he’d had the snip, they’d both agreed they didn’t want any more children.

  “You’re still tired?” he said.

  She nodded.

  “I really do think you should see a doctor.”

  “I’ve already told you I don’t need to see one. Please don’t nag me.”

  He took in a deep breath, determined to remain calm and not give way to the panic threatening to overwhelm him. “This isn’t you Rachel. Where’s my wife gone?”

  She actually looked guilty. “Just give me a bit of time, please. A week or so, that’s all I ask.”

  “A week to do what? I don’t understand.”

  “To get my strength back. I’ve just got a bit run down, that’s all.”

  He gazed deep into her eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

  Her jaw tensed. “Try.”

  “I have but I’m so worried about you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she sighed, hanging her head. “I don’t want to worry you but you’ve got to trust me Ryan.” She took his hands in hers. “Please.”

  He never could refuse a request from her. “Fine, I will. I just wish you’d let me in on what’s going on.”

  “I’ve already told you but for some reason you won’t listen,” she said with a gentle smile. She kissed his cheek. “I love you.”

  Ryan felt completely pathetic when he went weak with relief. “I love you too sweetheart.”

  She gave him another peck, placed her book on the bedside cabinet, turned out the light and lay on her side, facing away from him.

  Ryan just stared at her back before turning away, settling down into the pillows to another endless sleepless night. He didn’t know what to believe anymore.

  Teddy jumped onto his side of the bed, purring like a tank and nuzzling his hand with his face. This show of affection soothed him slightly and he managed to drift off to sleep.

  “You’re home late,” scowled Amber when Mikey walked through the door.

  “It’s only just gone eleven,” he sighed, letting his briefcase drop to the floor. He was knackered and not in the mood for any whinging or a fight.

  “Most women think their man coming through the door at this time is unacceptable.”

  “You know I don’t keep normal hours babe.”

  “So where were you? A nightclub? Casino?”

  Mikey rolled his eyes. He had no idea why she’d got it into her head that he enjoyed going to nightclubs and gambling. Plenty of his contemporaries did but he’d got bored of that scene and he’d grown up. He owned half a dozen clubs and three casinos but he rarely spent any time in them. It was probably her hag of a mother winding her up about what he got up to, which wasn’t much. He was either at work, here or Jez’s. “Actually I popped back to Jez’s house with him. George hasn’t been sleeping well.”

  “Who do you think you are, Doctor Spock?”

  “Jez had some paperwork I needed. I went back with him to pick it up. He was really tired after being kept up all night so I didn’t think it fair he drive there and back to the bungalow again.” When she frowned at him, emerald green eyes full of suspicion, he sighed. “Ask Cathy if you don’t believe me.”

  “I don’t know if I’d believe her either. She’s been a bit stuck up lately, her and Beth.”

  “Neither of them are stuck up.”

  “They’ve been really funny with me lately.”

  Mikey knew exactly why they were being funny with her - because they thought she was a stuck-up cow. Beth and Cathy were both down-to-earth, decent, hardworking women without an ounce of snobbery. Amber used to be like that, when they’d first met. In fact she’d been the sweetest, most gentle woman he’d ever known. But not too long after the birth of their first child, Josh, she’d turned into a shallow, vain shopaholic. Plus they were both doting mothers who did not approve of how sporadically she showed her two sons affection, consequently her once-close relationship with them both had become strained. In an effort to repair the damage Cathy had invited them for a big family meal. Jules, Jackson and Cara were going as well as Beth, her husband Riley and Beth’s three children from her first marriage.

  “Oh great,” said Amber when he’d broken the news of the meal. “Why didn’t you get out of it?”

  “I didn’t want to get out of it. It’ll be fun.”

  “For you maybe.”

  “Cathy knows you’ve been drifting apart and she’s trying to put things right.”

  “I don’t want to go,” she said, obstinately tilting her chin.

  “We’re going and that’s an end to it.”

  Her green eyes blazed. “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t ask much of you Amber. You pretty much do whatever you want. All I ask is one evening with our family.”

  “None of them are family. Not one of them has Maguire blood, apart from Beth’s kids and one of them is a psycho, just like his daddy was.”

  “Don’t be so cruel, he’s only ten. The poor little lad’s struggling to cope after what his own dad put him through, it’s not his fault.”

  “He gives me the creeps.”

  Even though he didn’t say it, Mikey agreed. Despite his young age, Archie still managed to radiate an air of menace. He’d used to be such a sweet little boy, until he’d seen his own dad, Alex Maguire, try to rape Rachel. Then Alex had subjected both him and his older brother Alfie to the sounds of Rachel being tortured and stabbed. Alfie had recovered from the trauma but Archie had gone through a long period of violent outbursts during which he’d even attacked his mum. Now, thanks to Riley’s presence in the family home all that had calmed down but Archie had been left cold and unfeeling and there was just something all wrong about him. Sometimes it felt like Alex Maguire had returned from the grave he’d been put into by Ryan. That was something no one wanted.

  “Plus aren’t you forgetting about Jules?” said Mikey. “She’s my cousin, her dad was Terry Maguire, which makes Cara a blood relative too.”

  “How could I ever forget about Jules?” she said sarcastically.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  She sighed. “Nothing.”

  “Please babe, go to this meal, for me,” he said, just wanting to go to bed.

  “Fine but don’t go expecting miracles, okay?”

  “Course not. How have the boys been?”

  “Oh you know, the usual.”

  The dismissive way she said it made him furious but he hid it. She’d agreed to go to the dinner and he was too tired for a row. “I’ll check on them.”

  “Don’t go waking them up.”

  “Course not.”

  He took off his shoes and crept upstairs, peace settling in his heart at the sight of eighteen month old Zach sprawled on his back. He’d inherited Amber’s red hair, emerald eyes and little cupid bow mouth. Fortunately he hadn’t inherited her temperament because he was the sweetest little boy.

  Mikey went to the room next door to check in on Josh, who was now six years old. Josh was very much like himself with his large, soft green eyes and dark Maguire hair. He was growing into a tough little bruiser but he had a good heart and was fiercely protective of his little brother. He looked so peac
eful in his sleep too and Mikey hoped life was always so calm and carefree for his boys.

  He headed into his bedroom and came to a halt. Amber was stark naked, hands on her slim hips, her cascade of red curls barely covering her breasts. He had to give her her due, she still looked good. Really good.

  “You’ve been a bit negligent lately,” she said, sashaying up to him.

  Inwardly Mikey sighed. He knew if he did this he’d only be thinking about Jules the entire time and he wasn’t entirely sure Amber hadn’t picked up on that, which made him nervous. He was always too paranoid to enjoy himself properly.

  “Look babe, I’m really tired,” he began.

  She silenced him with a kiss. “You’ve been so busy lately and I am a woman.”

  “I’m well aware of that babe but…”

  She pouted, reminding him of a petulant child. “You want me to go to that dinner tomorrow night, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he said flatly, knowing where this was going.