I know she’s only trying to cheer me up and stop me worrying about the shitshow that is my life and while it’s not working; I appreciate the effort.
We make our way down the stairs and out onto the pavement where a car is waiting. Darcey helps me with my seatbelt, her eyes on my splintered hand.
“I hope Oliver beats the shit out of your fucking fake husband.” The cab driver’s eyes flick to meet mine in the rearview mirror.
“Darcey!”
She leans back in her seat. “Oh, please. It’s the least that fucker deserves.”
With the promise of a large tip, our driver makes some questionable manoeuvres as he weaves us across south London. I’m grateful because it means we reach the place I share with Floyd in record time, and I’m hopeful that Oliver wasn’t too far ahead of us.
Opening my wallet to pull out the keycard that unlocks the entrance door, I curse when I don’t find it.
“He took my fucking key.”
“He really thought this through,” Darcey remarks. “Wonder what else he had up his sexy sleeve.” I glower at her, but all shedoes is smirk in response. There’s a reason her and Ollie get on so well.
Thankfully, there’s a numbered keypad to the left of the entrance, which residents can enter a code into in order to open the door. Once we’re inside the lobby, I press the button for the lift. My hand throbs and the pain in my side has increased with all the movement. I don’t think I could manage the stairs even if waiting for the lift to arrive has me tapping my foot impatiently.
When we finally reach the third floor, I hurry down the corridor and twist the handle, pushing open the front door.
“Is. It. Worth. It?” Oliver asks, his voice loud in the otherwise quiet room. My eyes dart around, taking in everything. Floyd, standing arms crossed, teeth gritted as he glares at Oliver. Oliver, who is holding his side, blood smudged across his cheek, yelling at…
“Dad?”
All heads in the room turn towards me.
“Ah, if it isn’t my husband. Come to fix this mess you’ve made, sweet boy?” Floyd drawls, ignoring the tension radiating off of Oliver as he takes large strides towards me. I inch back, feeling the protective presence of Darcey behind me. Floyd’s eyes are cold pools of blue as he rounds on me, dropping his voice.
“Tell your boyfriend to leave before things get really bad for your beloved father.” Floyd lifts his hand to cup my cheek, but Oliver is on him in an instant, fists flying.
“I told you, you would never touch him again.”
Floyd fights back, his size and stamina overpowering Oliver as he sends the love of my life reeling backwards into the wall. Fear. Love. Exhaustion. It all pools together and fuels me on and I place myself between the two men, reeling when a punch meant for Oliver gets me instead. My vision goes hazy and I fall against Ollie, who shields me by pushing me behind his back.
“I’m calling the cops!” Darcey yells from where she’s still at the door.
“No, Dars” Jesus, if the police get involved, there is no telling what Floyd will say or do. For a moment, I have this fleeting feeling of relief at the thought – of Darcey calling 999. Of them coming here and taking control. Of the truth coming out and me walking away from Floyd once and for all. I’m hit with a wash of guilt when that thought settles.That’s what I want.
“Enough!” My father’s voice booms through the room. Louder and stronger than I’ve ever heard it. Everyone stills. Floyd breathing heavily, his hair askew, blood on his shirt. Darcey with her phone in her hand. Oliver in front of me, reaching a hand back to twine our fingers together.
“Darius, are you okay?” My dad asks. Dropping Ollie’s hand, I edge around him and come to stand in front of the man who raised me.
“I’m okay.” They all know it’s a lie. I’m wobbling on my feet, and I can’t straighten up because of the pinching in my side. Tears burn at my eyes as I repeat that I’m okay while shaking my head to contradict myself.
“Oliver told me what Floyd did to you,” my dad says and I shoot a glare at Oliver.
“You had no right to do that, Ollie. I trusted you.” He dips his head, looking at his hands that he’s twining together in front of him.
“I know,” Oliver mumbles, but then he’s looking at me, his eyes dark with conviction. “Be mad at me if you need to be, but I’m not sorry.”
“Son,” my dad starts, stepping closer and placing a hand on my shoulder. The comfort of his firm, familiar grip on me has tears escaping down my cheeks.
Shaking my head, I stop him before he can say anything. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I tried. I really did.” I choke back a sob as Icontinue. “I wanted to make it work, to help you. But I can’t do it, Dad. I didn’t think it would be like this when I agreed to the marriage. I’m scared of what he could do to me.” With the back of my uninjured hand, I bat away the tears blurring my vision. “I’m so sorry. I have to put myself first.”
I look at Oliver – his eyes are wet, and there’s a sad smile tugging at his lips. He dips his head in quiet support and I add the next words because I need him to hear them. Need him to know that even if I’m really fucking annoyed with him, he means the world to me. “I also don’t want to spend another day faking a marriage to another man when I’m in love with someone else. Someone who deserves to be loved with all of me.”
“Darius.” There’s a dark warning in Floyd’s voice when he says my name. “Think carefully about what you’re about to do.”
