For my raised eyebrow she raised both of hers. “You thought those highlights were for you?”
“Of course. I asked for the book, it came with highlights. Thank you very much, A-plus for effort.”
“They weren’t for you,” she whispered. “Sorry.”
Her cheeks flushed, and again my cock twitched. Faye had stirred up a right fucking hornet’s nest with her dirty games. It summed up Faye Devere in a perfect little nutshell. She was ever the inciter, creating mischief and filthy drama wherever she went, and then bailing when the going got a little rough.
“Who the fuck were those highlights for, then? One of your other fucking bosses who wants the lowdown on some seedy pissing Vincent Blackthorne manual?” I rolled my eyes.
“Um… they were… they are…”
“What?” I snapped. “Spit it out. Faye won’t be out all fucking day, Topaz.”
“They were for me,” she said, and her whole face was red.
“For you? You mean…” I smirked as the impact of her dirty little admission dawned. “Those passages were highlighted for you?”
She looked beyond me, fiddling with her lip ring in true Topaz style. “Yes, they were for me.”
She had me stumped for words, the first time she’d ever had me stumped for words. “That’s some dirty shit you’ve got highlighted in there Topaz, you filthy little cow.”
“Yeah, I know.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. It’s up to you what you jill yourself off to every evening.” Oh, the possibilities. I forced them aside with the contempt they should ideally deserve. “So, asides from your horny little scribblings, what do I need to know about that stupid fucking book?”
She busied herself in the fridge to her rear, far too little, far too late. I admired the globes of her ass cheeks, the peachy crack of flesh promising the filthy reward of her puckered virgin ring. How I fucking wished Faye was back from the banking so the dirty bitch could pull another one of her twisted stunts. Maybe I even wanted her to. Maybe I’d even let her tie me up, humour her in her little quest to become the big fucking I am. I pictured Faye teasing Topaz’s thighs apart. Lick her sweet little pussy, pretty boy. Lick her cunt until her she sprays her juices in your filthy fucking mouth.
“Like I said,” Topaz mumbled. “It’s none of my business really.”
“Cut the bullshit.” I pushed the fridge door closed until she had no choice but to look at me. “You know things that I clearly don’t, and that’s not a situation I’m ever comfortable with. Knowledge is power, Topaz, and right now you’re fucking lording it over me.”
“I’m not lording anything!”
“Good, then you won’t mind sharing,” I smiled, then took a seat, indicating the ever-ticking second hand on my watch. “Faye will be back in fifteen minutes,” I said. “You’d better start talking.”
***
Chapter Fifteen
Faye
It was just a short walk to the bank. A couple of streets in broad daylight, with plenty of passers-by for camouflage, but that made no difference to my jittery nerves. My eyes darted all around me, scouting every shadow, every doorway, every sound behind me, every set of footsteps crossing my path.
I breathed a sigh of relief once I’d crossed the bank’s threshold, taking a moment to calm my breath before joining the queue. I hardly registered the cashier’s small talk, handing over the cheques with barely a smile.
My legs didn’t want to carry me back onto the street. They balked and protested, pooling into gangly, useless excuses for limbs. Come on, Faye, get a fucking grip. I pictured Andy’s condescending expression, the roll of his eyes, and then I gritted my teeth and got the fuck on with it.
It had started to rain and I had no umbrella against the drizzle, and in my strop I’d neglected to pick up my coat. The rain pricked at me, tiny little needles, bathing me in the kind of cold sweat that makes your teeth chatter. I was scared. The kind of scared I’d felt as I’d run from Italy, the writhing pit of snakes in the bottom of my stomach, slithery and cold and full of dread.
I’d run away from one horrible mess, only to create a brand new one. I could already feel it unfurling in my gut, the urge to spin on my stilettos and bail. I’d always been a runner, cracking under the first sign of real trouble and disappearing like a whippet into the sunset. I’d never been short of people telling me as much, either. It drove my parents insane, the cycle of all-consuming passion, through disillusionment, always to end up in dramatic abandonment. I’d quit everything I’d ever started; every expensive hobby, every college class, every fledgling relationship, bailing out as soon as life didn’t live up to the pretty Faye dream.