AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“None taken.” He pats my back and says, “Get into bed. I’ll fetch you some paracetamol ‘cos you’ll end up with a crying headache.”
“Cheers, I’m showering then getting some sleep. Don’t let them come in.” I nod my head towards the door.
“Even James?” he asks.
I scratch at my head. “Yeah, send James in. I don’t want him to go throttle Kellen. Brown and his big mouth.”
I add a hoodie on top of my dress and flop on the bed just as James knocks on the door and pushes it open. He comes in and sits on the bed next to me.
“Alright Mum?” he asks.
“Yeah, James, I am. Sorry about losing it out there. Your Uncle Jude and I got out of hand.”
“Is it true? Did Marcus do that to you?”
I sigh and look at him, then up at the ceiling. Sweet baby Jesus how do I explain this. I’m just going to go for it. “James, you’re a grown man, there’s no point beating around the bush.” I pause, clearly there might be a few bushes to hedge around. “Err, erm, I had sex with Kellen last night at his hotel.” I pause to gauge his reaction. I don’t get one. His face is free from expression. Oh dear.
“Oh,” is all he responds with.
I rush on, before I totally lose my nerve. “I agreed to everything. It is what it is. He never hurt me, regardless of how I look.”
“Oh.”
I raise my hands towards him. “I don’t want you to be annoyed with him over it. We’re not dating, we’re not anything. It was just erm, well, sex.” I shrug, hoping it conveys the clear message that I’m good, and all is okay.
“Oh.”
I squint my eyes at him, gritting my teeth, waiting for him to say something else.
He stares into space a few moments longer then says, “Good night, then?” He suddenly grins at me.
“Yep,” I nod.
“Uncle Jude’s got a spatula shaped bruise on his forehead. Good shot, Mum.” He gets up smirking and walks out.
I watch him leave and shake my head side to side. God I love that boy, but shit, what a morning.
I look at the clock. It's not even 11 a.m. and I feel like I’ve lived a full day already. I push up and head into my shower room, shower quickly and jump into bed. I need to sleep. I drift off to visions of a pair of dark green eyes with a black limbal ring staring at me intently. And smirking while he’s doing it.
Chapter
Seventeen
MARCUS
My family is a disaster.
But it hasn’t always been the case. My dad was one of the best men I knew, fair minded, and afforded everyone he met the same courtesies. He supported my music career, and allowed me to carry on with it, even though we both knew I should have gone onto the family estate. Especially when I got married and had a child on the way. He said he always knew I would be a superstar, that I was different, my talent lying beyond Eastwood.
He got so sick so quickly. But in my heart of hearts I actually think it wasn’t quick, he just didn’t want anyone to know, so he hid it from my mother. And from me. He was so fucking proud of all my accomplishments. We discussed the estate and title often, he knew with my music earnings I would be able to support all of the estate, my mother, everyone. He told me to live my life, and be free. He wanted me to have it all.
So when my father died five years ago, after an aggressive form of cancer took his vitality and speech, I felt it deeply. I felt alone, shouldering the whole responsibility. I’d inherited the lot—houses, land, a title, and debts. BIG debts. I supplemented the whole kit and kaboodle from my music earnings, just as my dad had predicted.
My mother, Rowena, chose to ignore this fact. Acts like my ‘hobby’ should come to an end and I should start the real work in Yorkshire and London. Play my part. If I’d done that, the estate would have gone under years ago and we’d all be on benefits inside six months with no properties at all. She would have been in a cottage in the country by herself, no staff, nothing. But who wants to know hard facts when you can carry on prancing around like you live in some period drama.
So I let them carry on. As long as they left me alone to my life in LA, they were free to roam the countryside playing the country gentry, lording it over the extras in the drama. Or should I say, the people of Eastwood. My idea of total hell.
And when it was just my freeloader family, frolicking about in what they thought of as this perfect Downton Abbey type existence, I was ready to just let them have it. But then Rowena went and got herself another husband. Giles. A lawyer, total shark, and a freeloader to boot. I’m sure he made his qualifications up. As soon as he waltzed her down the aisle, ten years her junior, he retired from real life and work to enter the period drama with her.
