Brutal: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World) Read online

  Chapter Nine

  AMARA

  I stare at the TV absentmindedly. Thomas is beside me tapping away on his mobile. As usual I feel invisible in his presence. I woke up motivated, full of pent up energy, now I’m unsure what to do. I could rustle something up in the kitchen, organise my wardrobe, anything but sit idle. I sigh softly and Thomas glances up.

  “You okay?”

  “Yes,” I lie. He returns to his mobile and I feel myself withdrawing from him again. He doesn’t even notice I’m restless.

  “I’m going to play golf with Lance today. You got any plans?”

  Plans? He knows I hate going out alone unless it’s absolutely necessary. And why do most of his plans involve everyone except me? “I’m sure I can find something to do around the house,” I respond tersely, hoping he detects the pissed-off hint in my tone. Standing, I grab my empty coffee cup.

  “If you want to go out, I can call Elias…”

  “Yes, do that please,” the words fly out my mouth. I must be desperate for fresh air. “I might go to Oxford Street, have a look around.”

  Thomas taps his screen and holds the mobile to his ear. I amble to the kitchen and dump my cup in the sink. Peering out the window, I’m pleased to find the sky a cloudless blue, the sun high and bright, pouring warm rays through the window. Today is going to be a good day, I’ll make sure of it.

  After I’ve dressed in black trousers and a matching t-shirt, I slip on heels and grab the designer handbag Thomas bought me after an argument. It’s laughable how he thinks money can fix everything. I suppose it can bring me a sense of safety in the name of Elias, so I’m not complaining this time.

  Thomas is all set to go when I get downstairs. He plants several kisses on my lips and then smacks my behind, to my dismay. I wish him a good day and get to tidying up the bits he’s left strewn around. When I’m fiddling with the curtains I come to a complete standstill. There’s a scruffy dog sniffing the path. His skinny frame makes it clear he’s a stray. I adore animals and so I race to the kitchen and search through the cupboards, wondering what it’d eat. I silently pray the dog is still there when I return. I panic. There’s no meat in here, me and Thomas both being vegetarians. With no time to think I quickly slather some cheese spread on bread and rush to the front door. I’m careful and quiet in opening it.

  When I take two steps outside, the dog scurries backwards growling, baring it’s teeth. I try to call him in a soothing voice. Knowing it must have trust issues I toss the bread toward him. Then I fetch a bowl full of water from the kitchen and leave it near the doorstep. My heart swells when I watch through the window as it eats and drinks.

  Half an hour later, Elias shows up. He dominates the entire room with his presence. “There’s a bowl outside.”

  “I know. I fed a stray dog.”

  He nods and either amusement or pride twinkles in his eyes. When his mobile rings he excuses himself and hovers near the doorway. “Hello…” Pause. “Thanks.” He laughs. Pause. “Yeah…thirty-seven…no…okay…speak soon.”

  When he rejoins me in the living room I shoot him a look. “Is it your birthday today?”

  “Yep.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.

  “What are you doing working? Why aren’t you out celebrating?”

  He rubs his jawline. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “It is.” I playfully tap him on the arm. Ooh. It feels bigger and more solid than I thought and I suppress a grin. “We’re going to celebrate. Where do you want to go?”

  “Listen…”

  “No! I insist.”

  “Miss. Jain…”

  “I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “I’m here to assist you, not the other way around.”

  “Choose a place or I will,” I threaten.

  “Fine.” He sighs heavily like I’m putting him out. “You choose.”

  So I do. I tell Elias we’re taking the tube to properly enjoy a real London experience. After a short walk to the station we’re on the tube. It’s so packed we’re forced to stand, my body squashed against his firm chest. I tighten my hold on the rail and peep up at him. He’s watching people around me, protective as ever. His eyes are always on the go. I do believe he wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. Well almost. The one percent niggling worry I have makes me check the surrounding faces. Rest assured, I ask Elias what he did for his last birthday. He says not much. Is he being short with his answers again, or did he really not do much? I remember him stating he lives alone. Does he not have a girlfriend? Girlfriends even? Friends? Before curiosity can get the better of me we reach our stop.

  Elias still has no idea where I’m taking him. When we pass a chip shop, I order a few things I think he’d like, and some chips for myself, along with drinks. After a bit of walking we’re staring up at the huge London Eye, the world’s tallest observation wheel. I’ve never been on it before, but have always wanted to.

  “I hope you’re not scared of heights.”

  Elias folds his arms over his chest. “And if I am?”

  “Then you need to overcome that fear because it’s your birthday.” I grin.

  It takes fifteen minutes of queueing until we’re standing in the glass cage. Being the last ones it’s just me and him alone. When we’re slowly being veered into the air, I hold my breath, a tad nervous. Elias chuckles. Oh wow. We get higher and higher and higher. I didn’t think this through. I didn’t know it would seem so high! My hands become clammy and I press my lips together to hold in any squeals. We’re going even higher. Elias grabs my hand and squeezes it tightly, as if reassuring me it’ll be fine.

  “I hope you’re not scared of heights,” he teases me.

  I grin and allow my body to loosen up. My hand is so small in Elias’s. He intertwines our fingers and a nervous frisson of energy shoots through me. Both silent, we take a second to just enjoy the moment. It’s like I’ve forgotten the whole purpose of being here and I’m lost to our physical connection. That indescribable chemistry is back and it’s not good. I’m stepping into dangerous territory like a rock climber with no support, the fall having the ability to destroy me. But I’m unable to release his hand. What’s he thinking? I peek up at him through my lashes and he tears his gaze from the view to me. Is that…fear I detect? Is he afraid just like I am? He lets go of my hand and I force away my stupid fairytale ideas and return to the real world. I need to stop flattering myself. He was comforting me, the way an air steward would if you’re afraid of heights. There was nothing in it. Elias must treat everyone the same, his fierce protectiveness always making an appearance. Do I want Elias to like me? If so, why? Because deep down I know it can never last with Thomas? Because this man beside me is the first to ever captivate me?

  I return to the view and almost gasp at the beauty of it. It’s like we can see London in it’s entirety, a mixture of historical and contemporary buildings, spread around the River Thames. The sun glistens off its surface, and boats slowly glide through offering cruises and tours of the city. The Houses of Parliament and Big Ben seem so small from up here, but stunning all the same. Times like these are when I know I’m incredibly lucky to be here and I hope all of this is never taken away.

  Before I can allow my thoughts to darken my mood, I dig through the carrier bag having forgotten about the food. I hand the containers to Elias. He thanks me and wastes no time demolishing the fish and chips like some caveman. He uses his hand, ignoring the plastic fork provided. That manliness. I bet he’d survive in a wild jungle no problem.

  After we’ve eaten and drank, we leisurely stroll beside the Thames. Elias asks me to capture a photo of him with the breathtaking background included. I do so. Then he asks if I want one. When I refuse, his brow shoots up. He’s probably never met a girl who objects to having a photograph taken.

  Stopping off at an outdoor stall, I purchase a few London goodies, then we continue on our way people watching and admiring every little thing we see. I’m worn out by the time we find a bar with a
n outdoor terrace. After I’ve ordered drinks I join him in the sunshine where he enjoys a beer and me a juice. The conversation is a little stilted and we stick to questions about life in London. Fifteen minutes later a server brings out two muffins I ordered, a candle in Elias’s one. He straightens when he sees them and shakes his head, but I’m sure he’s secretly touched. I practically force him to think of a wish and blow the candle out. He laughs, a full teeth baring smile, and it’s the first time I’ve seen Mr. Serious let his guard down. I watch as he leans closer to the candle and blows it out.

  “Feliz cumpleaños.” I push a paper bag toward him.

  “Miss. Jain,” he says sternly, displeased I’ve spent money on him.

  “One, it’s only something small. And two, Amara will do just fine, thanks.”

  He reluctantly opens the bag to find a London decorated cup, pen, and keyring.

  “I figured no-one who lives in London actually buys the souvenirs, but I’m sure these will come in handy.”

  “Thank you. Why did you do all this?”

  “Because I like making people happy,” I respond and it’s the truth.

  “That’s an admirable trait.” He picks out the candle. “What about you? Are you happy?”

  I edge away a little and look out to the River Thames, suddenly exposed under the sun’s harsh rays. Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I hope my voice comes out normal. “Yes, I’m happy,” I respond, ensuring he can’t see the dishonesty on my face.

  Chapter Ten

  ELIAS

  “I must say, you’re looking a little rosy today, bro.” DeShawn eyes me dubiously. “Did you get some last night?” He bursts into hysterics, over the top as always.

  I shake my head unimpressed he’s caught the interest of some fellow Costa customers.

  “Wait a minute.” He scratches his head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about a woman.”

  “I don’t kiss and tell.” I bite into my cake slice. It’s almost as nice as the muffin Amara bought me the other day.

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “I’m too busy with work for women,” I lie. “Unlike you. Who’s the latest victim?” I’m keen to get out of the limelight.

  “Victim. Don’t you mean victims?” He cracks up again.

  I push the rest of the cake aside. It kind of defeats the two hours we did in the gym earlier. DeShawn starts showing me women on dating apps, insisting I have to join and how I’m missing out. I grab his mobile finding a brunette quite striking. She resembles Amara. I hastily swipe across to another woman’s profile. I’m allowed to find Amara attractive, I tell myself, trying to ignore the guilt. What man wouldn’t? She’s gorgeous and mysterious, leaving a lot to the imagination. It’s not a big deal. Just because I’m attracted to someone doesn’t mean I’ll act on it. I can’t and I won’t. I need to accept my destiny as being a single man forever, with the occasional hook up here and there.

  “So, what you gonna do now Elliot’s moving abroad?” DeShawn takes his mobile from my outstretched hand.

  “I’m still waiting for Mr. Dawson to speak with Haynes.”

  “How you getting on with him anyway?”

  I drain the contents of my drink. “I’m with his girlfriend half the time.”

  “Is that how it is?” He smirks wickedly.

  “Unlike you I don’t fuck my clients.”

  “Well, you’re missing out.”

  Speak of the devil. My mobile skitters across the table, vibrating and ringing, Thomas’s name on the screen. I snatch it up and answer. He needs me tonight, something about one of his friend’s hosting an event at a club. When DeShawn takes off for the bathroom I check my banking app. My recent wage payment should be enough to cover rent and bills for the next couple of months. I hate having to watch money. I’ve never had to do this before, always having had a handful of clients. I’m thirty-seven now. I groan inwardly. I’m not getting any younger so I need to work hard for a good while so I can retire one day. Just get me Maverick Haynes, I wish hard to the Universe.

  “I better go,” I tell DeShawn when he’s back. “Work tonight.”

  “Cool. I’ll catch you next week. Same time?”

  I nod and stand, removing my car keys from my pocket. Suppose I better take it for a wash, get it nice and glistening for Thomas. He may want to take his car but we’ll see. I hold my hand up to DeShawn and leave Costa. When I’m opening my car door the keyring from Amara jingles. I half smile. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a special birthday.

  After my car is immaculate inside and out, I give my parents a quick call to check all is good, then set off home. I won’t have time to cook a decent meal and so it’s a microwaveable lasagna. Thomas has a tendency to request me at the last minute, never giving me a day or two notice, as I’ve asked. If I get more clients he’ll need to respect my wishes.

  Later when I’m sitting in the tub I’m drawn to the scars and marks scattered on my body. There’s a scar near my knee, elbow, stomach, all reminders of times fights got out of hand, bones broken, blood shed, my rage ignited. I never fight unless it’s imperative and I only go hard when my opponent is relentless. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to block out the times I fought like a savage. It was always my luck to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. People always seemed to want to pick fights with me when out in clubs and bars. I’m not sure if it was because they felt threatened by my presence, were trying to play tough, or impress a woman, or whatnot.

  Sliding down the bath, I sink under the water, the warmness enveloping me. I remain motionless trying to block out the world, to have a moments relaxation, but as usual it never happens. His face flashes in my mind and the scene replays like a sick horror movie. I can hear his nose cracking under my knuckles as I whack him over and over again. I was unable to stop, pummelling away, kicking at his body, confused whether to kill him or keep him alive, the latter only so I could slowly torture him. Her face comes forth like a ghost of my past. Beautiful. Striking hazel eyes. If only she had listened to me none of it would have happened. Rebellious fucking women. Regardless it was still my fault. I can’t pass the blame. A smile widens on her face and she laughs. It gets louder and louder and my head starts to ache, a migraine coming on.

  I bolt upwards and water spills onto the floor. Gripping the edge of the tub I try to control my erratic breathing. I bet this is how soldiers feel, forever tormented by the war, by the faces, the sounds, and the smell of blood. No matter how clean their hands are they’re still tainted, someone’s death all over them. I stare down at my palms, clenching them into fists. My strength is both a blessing and a curse. When used for protection it’s a gift. When used for revenge, it’s the most vicious, destructive flaw a man can have. My strength is the main reason I remain alone.

  Chapter Eleven

  AMARA

  It’s pitch black outside, the stars a beautiful sight, the moon full and brighter than I’ve seen it in a long time. It’s the perfect setting for a date outdoors. A nice, relaxed bar beside the River Thames, soft music playing, and good food would be ideal. But there’s no chance of that happening. The only bright lights I see are the flashing strobes of a nightclub. I fiddle with the buttons on my coat and find Thomas watching me.

  “Baby, change that coat. It looks ridiculous,” he states before returning to the mirror to gel his hair.

  My hackles rise and I’m unable to bite my tongue. “Don’t tell me what to do, or what to wear.”

  He turns around to face me, no stranger to my outbursts. “No need to get snappy.”

  “Yes there is.” I drop onto the bed and grab my heels, forcefully pulling them on. “I don’t even want to come tonight. It’s not my scene.”

  “You’re my girlfriend and I expect you to join me at events. You think any of the other girlfriends complain?” He snorts. “Do you know how many people would kill to have your life? To be able to have the luxuries you do?”

  “What luxurie
s?” I bolt to my feet, heat filling my face. “I don’t want luxuries. I don’t need anything.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re an ungrateful bitch sometimes.”

  “Not everyone cares about the stuff you do,” I state dryly. “The VIP booths, expensive champagne, fancy cars, clothes…all stuff to impress shallow, self absorbed people.”

  Thomas points a finger in my face. “Don’t be rude about my friends.”

  His friends! They’re all he cares about. I don’t want to go to some club tonight. I don’t want to sit there like some lapdog fake smiling. I’m not some stupid trophy girlfriend. Thomas is inviting me out more lately and I need to put my foot down. Who is he to force me to do anything?

  “I don’t fit in with your friends. Please. You go and enjoy yourself.” He barely notices I’m there anyway. My presence is pointless.

  “Amara.” He takes a few steps toward me and there’s an impatient chill to his tone. “I’ve done so much for you, so I expect you to put yourself out for me sometimes.”

  “It’s not sometimes. It’s all the time lately. And what are you indicating? That I’m forever in your debt?”

  “If it wasn’t for me…”

  “Don’t say it!” I shout, sick of hearing the same thing over and over. I kick my heels off having decided I’m not going to the club.

  “Put your heels back on if you know what’s good for you.” His serious expression is a warning, threatening me to challenge him.

  I’m back to being that helpless, pathetic girl again, controlled, without opinions or a voice of her own. Tears well in my lower lids and emotions clog my throat. I put my heels on again only so he can’t see he’s upset me. “And this is why I can’t trust you, why I find it hard to be close to you.”

  “I suggest you start thinking of the positive elements I bring to your life, rather than focusing on the negative ones.” With that he leaves the room.