All About Them (Love & Hate #2) Page 8

  Then I remember I am unlovable, I am not good enough for him, and in that moment I wonder why I’m even in this world. It’s better to end this, to die.

  I charge upstairs, heading straight to my floor. Once I unlock the door and get inside, I strip quickly, taking off Jacob’s clothes, shaking uncontrollably.

  In the bathroom I get the alcohol wipes and clean the area thoroughly. I take a fresh blade from the packet that should do the job, take away the resentment, the ache and the guilt that rips me from inside out. When the blood appears after the sharp unexpected pain, it provides the desired relief, but it isn’t enough. The wound is deeper than I meant to cut and it will take a while to heal. I cut myself again and again, until the bad thoughts fade away and I’m at ease.

  Chapter Ten

  Diner.

  Jacob

  I find myself needing to smoke weed the same night that I made out with Dora in the shower, just to stop feeling so damn agitated. In the morning I wake up rested, but with a massive headache. She does nothing but remind me of how good we were together. No matter how I try to repress them, she pushes the old buried feelings back into the open. She is driving me crazy and I’m ready to jump in my car to go and confront her. In the end I decide against it. I shouldn’t be the one that’s chasing after her after everything she’s said and done, but I can’t seem to get her out of my head.

  Later that day I’m more than happy to head out to training, knowing that rugby is the ideal distraction to stop me from obsessing over what happened between us. The training is hard and I push myself this time, hoping the physicality of training will exhaust me enough that I stop thinking of her. Sitting in the locker room, I know I’m going to shower in the same cubical in which I made Dora come. There is something wrong with my head. I take a step forward and then automatically I feel like taking two back. Things between us will be even more complicated now, especially while her fiancé is away.

  Maddie calls when I’m heading home. She wants to meet me for dinner later on in the evening, probably to discuss Dora. We kept meaning to meet over the last few days, but I’ve kept myself busy.

  Maybe I missed something about that shitty afternoon when I found Dora in bed with Ricky. She acted oddly in the days leading up to it—what did I miss?

  Then in the locker room she wanted me; there was no doubt about that. But it didn’t take her long to run back to her douche of a fiancé and throw what happened back in my face.

  When I get back from training, I putter around the house trying to waste some time desperately trying to distract myself, but ultimately I keep coming back to one thought: is there a way I could repair it all? I am driving myself insane going round and round—fix what we have or break what she has. In the end I throw myself onto my sofa and watch some action films.

  At around seven, I put some clothes on, shave and go out to meet with Maddie somewhere in the city. Maybe a quick chat with her will cast a new light on my dilemma. It’s dark and cold outside, but the streets are filled with people. I shouldn’t even be complaining. I live in Chelsea, in an awesome place, and paps are off my back. I used to hide from them, used my car a lot more, but now my life is completely different. It’s easier not being in the spotlight. I’m not that important anymore. After the article came out, my reputation was ruined and fans stopped following my career.

  Central London is very busy. It’s a Saturday night so I shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone is out, wanting to have a good time. There is no doubt that my sister is going to question me about Dora. She is relentless, and I might have to tell her what I’ve been planning from the day that Dora showed up in my bedroom.

  “Table for two, reservation for Radcliffe,” I say to the waitress after I walk inside. Apprehension fills my gut as memories from the past keep reminding me of the pain that Dora caused. Dora crushed our love, our plans for the future.

  The long-legged waitress shows me to the table in the back, giving me the menu and suggesting a drink. It looks like Maddie isn’t here yet, but that’s just so typical. Punctuality had never been one of her strong points.

  The restaurant has had good reviews, independently owned and family run, serving seafood and pasta. I hope Maddie likes it. I get myself a beer, checking my phone and then the menu. I have learned that even in the bustling city of London I can’t escape my memories. My time with Dora was amazing. I remember my first trip to London, and it was with Dora. She dragged me around to the shops, and by the end of the day I was so exhausted that I couldn’t move.

  When the waiter takes the order my phone starts vibrating on the table. The smiley face of Maddie flashes on my screen.

  “Hello,” I answer. “Where are you?”

  “Jacob, please don’t be mad at me, but I’m going to be late. Alyson locked herself out and I let her wait in my flat for the key guy,” she mumbles, giving me that tone of voice that’s supposed to make me feel sorry for her. I knew it. She’s late again. I should have predicted it.

  “Maddie, there is always something with you. I’m starving. Can’t you just leave her there?”

  “No, it’s rude. Besides, I was thinking of introducing her to you. She is so funny and—”

  “Maddie, I don’t need you to set me up with a woman. I do not need help settling down. I’m going to order something for myself whilst you’re studding me out again.”

  “Jacob, I’m sorry … it’s an emergency. Please tell me that you’re not angry with me.”

  “Whatever, Maddie, it’s always the same with you. Come if you want. Either way I’ll be here, waiting as always,” I add and then hang up the phone. For some reason I’m pissed off with her. She’s been begging me to meet her for dinner since God knows how long, and now she’s not even going to show up. My sister has a nerve sometimes.

  The waitress comes back, and I order a beer the biggest stake on the menu. I get up to make my way to the loo, when someone calls me.

  “Mr. Radcliffe … Jacob Radcliffe?” asks an older guy dressed in a well-fitted, obviously expensive black suit. He must be in his late fifties. I don’t know him, yet his face seems familiar. I might be wrong and mixing him up with someone else. The other option is that he might be a fan, from the good old days.

  “Yes, please call me Jacob. How’re you doing, Mr.…?”

  “Daniel Harrison, Dora’s father. I do apologise for approaching you like this, but we met years ago,” he says, introducing himself, shaking my hand. He has a strong and assertive grip. Of course, Dora’s father. We met once when Dora and I were dating. It was a late dinner and Dora looked very uncomfortable. It didn’t help that Mr. Harrison was trying to put her down every time she opened her mouth.

  “Yes, I remember now. That’s a hell of a surprise. Now your daughter is my solicitor,” I state, trying to act like I give a damn. For some reason I don’t bloody like this guy, and I don’t know if this has something to do with the fact that he never even tried to be involved in Dora’s life.

  “Yes, I’m aware of it, Mr. Radcliffe.” He shrugs, checking the time. I might as well invite him to sit with me, for Dora’s sake. Maddie most likely is going to be ages.

  “Are you here with someone, Mr. Harrison? My sister just stood me up, and I don’t enjoy dining alone.”

  He lifts both of his eyebrows.

  “I had a meeting, but it’s been cancelled. I don’t want to intrude—”

  “I would love you to join me. Please, I insist,” I say and nod to the waiter to place and extra cover. Deep down I’m not really sure what’s gotten into me. This guy is obviously here for business. I doubt very much that he knows anything about Dora. I kind of get the impression that those two haven’t ever been very close.

  “Very nice of you, young man,” he says, and sits down. When the waiter arrives he orders the steak and a beer too. Well, I guess I have a few things in common with Dora’s father. This whole thing is absurd. I still can’t stop thinking how hot she looked when I made her come two days ago.

 
“So I hear that you’ve moved back here?” he asks, pausing, then adds, “Please stop me if you’re not comfortable with this, but I have studied your case. Sometimes I like to oversee my daughter’s work. It’s not easy to go to war with reporters. They aren’t very cooperative, especially when it comes to questioning their moral code.”

  “Yes, I had some trouble in France, nearly enough to end my rugby career. I managed to pull myself together and came back. I haven’t been a saint, Mr. Harrison, but that article was a complete fabrication of the truth. And when I bumped into Dora, it made sense to pursue this lawsuit.”

  Dora’s father nods, looking kind of impressed.

  “My daughter gets distracted a lot. She could be doing so much better if she stopped going to all the parties in the city,” her father says, shaking his head.

  “She is a brilliant solicitor. You should have seen the way she handled herself with that reporter, Mr. Harrison,” I say a bit more curtly than I want, but this guy starts getting on my nerves. Maybe he’s the reason Dora has such low self-esteem. She doesn’t fool me; everything comes back to home. She covers her fragile self by acting like she can deal with anything.

  Dora’s father sinks further down in his chair, wringing his hands together. Yeah, I just made him uncomfortable, but who cares? At the end of the day he has to respect his daughter.

  “Well, son, just remember to come to me if you’re unsure about anything. She hasn’t had much court experience and I’m afraid that she might do something stupid, like she always does,” he admits.

  “Dora is great, Mr. Harrison. You should have more faith. I know she will do well. Her fiancé, Rob, is a lucky guy,” I say, wanting to change the subject. I’m not in any position to get involved with Harrison’s family issues.

  Dora’s father frowns, and then he laughs. I think I’m missing something here. Who the fuck knows? Maybe he hates Dora’s fiancé too, the same way he won’t accept the fact that his own daughter can be good at something.

  “Fiancé? Jacob, I have no idea what you’re talking about. As far as I know, my daughter hasn’t dated anyone seriously since you.”

  “She’s been talking about him quite a lot. Maybe she didn’t want to tell you. I don’t know,” I press, knowing that she wouldn’t lie to me about being engaged. Dora has always known how to wrap men around her little finger. She knew how to flirt.

  “Jacob, I’m sorry to say this, but you’re naive. My daughter isn’t engaged and there is no Rob. Dora likes fabricating the truth; she tells lies. That’s one of her ways of making her life entertaining.”

  “No, I know her well … I mean I knew her. She wouldn’t lie about that,” I argue, thinking about all the times that she talked about him.

  “She is not the same, Jacob, so don’t blame yourself. Dora is just Dora. She has gotten comfortable with lying. It’s now second nature.”

  “Thank you for the company, Mr. Harrison, but I have to go. I’ll probably see you in the office,” I say, and leave without waiting for his response. Right then all I can think about is Dora’s lies. Is it possible that she’s been playing me from the very beginning?

  I had everything planned—the details, the game that I wanted to keep on playing—but she tricked me. There has never been any fucking Rob. I mean how did I even fall for that crap in the first place?

  I started this whole thing with her because I wanted to feel better about myself, but now I’m just fucking angry.

  I manage to catch a taxi outside. My heart is pounding as fury rings in my ears. The first time she betrayed me, she ruined our love. Now she’s stomped over my revenge, ruining all my carefully made plans. I want to hurt her badly. I give the taxi driver the address, and after almost an hour he pulls out in front of her house. I no longer care that it’s late—or that she is the only girl that I love. This is her last chance to come clean, to tell me what the hell is wrong with her.

  I barge upstairs and start hammering my fists into her door. Something ugly turns inside my stomach. Thank fuck she’s at home. She unlocks the door and opens it, looking at me with those big brown eyes.

  “May I come in?” I ask, clenching my fists and trying to sound like I’m not fucking pissed. She lets me in, looking confused, wearing a white robe.

  “Jacob, what are you doing here?”

  “Nothing. I was in the neighbourhood and decided to pop in. I was hoping to meet Rob, you know, your fiancé?” I say, looking her in the eyes. The colour drains from her face. I can tell that she didn’t expect to see me this evening. Yeah, the lies—she’s not going to fool me this time.

  “Well, he’s away. I told you that before. He is going to be away for a couple of days.”

  “Really. So why don’t we call him and tell him about our little encounter in my changing room?”

  She looks at me with disbelief, opening her mouth wide, then closing it. Her theatrics need to end right now. I’m done with her bullshit. She can explain what the hell is going on.

  “Don’t try to make up another lie, Dora. I know there is no fiancé. You probably wonder how I know,” I say, circling around her. “Well, I just had a very interesting conversation with your father. He told me that you like telling people tales, weaving a series of lies to make your life interesting.”

  I’m shaking with fury now, waiting for her to admit that she made all this up just so she didn’t have to consider apologising to me for the past.

  Chapter Eleven

  More lies.

  Dora

  I stand in the middle of my living room and I’m drowning. The truth has caught up with me and it’s slowly swallowing me like dark muddy waters. Part of me wants to shout the truth, tell him everything, but the other part is shutting me down with lies. I stand in front of him, wondering how to deal with the fact that I have failed him, that my story was supposed to keep him away. He has figured it out, and it was my own father that most likely told him that I have never been engaged.

  “I really have nothing to say to you, Jacob. I didn’t want to get involved with this mess again, so I made Rob up,” I say, looking down on my slippers with embarrassment. My own body disgusts me. The blood from a wound is running down my leg. I got up too abruptly. It’s a reminder that I should have never messed with love, with my doomed past.

  “Dora! For fuck’s sake stop lying to me. Stop it!” he shouts. His face goes red and that vein in his neck throbs dangerously fast. I dart my eyes to him, seeing pain, and so much sorrow. “For once in your life tell me the truth. Five years ago we were happy, but you ruined it. I know there’s more to it. What is going on, Dora?”

  I press my hands to my ears, fearing that he’ll try to rip the truth out of me. I can’t tell him anything. He will hate me for the rest of my life. Like he hates me now—a tiny voice in my head reminds me.

  “Nothing … it’s nothing. I didn’t want to look pathetic, and I didn’t want you to see that my life hasn’t gone anywhere, so I lied,” I shout back, taking a few steps back.

  His eyes grow wider, but he doesn’t move.

  “Your father said that your lies are relentless, that you’ve just gotten comfortable with them. Explain to me what is happening, because I don’t get it.”

  I don’t respond, craving some affection, just to shut down the dark voices in my head. He mustn’t know anything. The lies are my way of dealing with forgotten emotions, with guilt that sometimes paralyses me.

  “Jacob, please go. Leave me alone. I don’t owe you any explanation. It doesn’t matter what happened five years ago. It’s all in the past. I screwed up, and it’s as simple as that,” I say, almost in a whisper.

  He drags his hand through his hair and then paces around the room, mumbling and swearing under his breath. Jacob’s frustration is affecting me. I’m going to miss him badly, but this whole thing has to end. He deserves to be loved by someone better than me. I’m worthless. A person without a soul and a heart.

  “Dora, you’re bleeding,” his voice echoes in my head.<
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  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “Your trousers are soaked with blood,” he snarls with rage and sweeps me into his arms before I know it. I want to protest, shout, but this sudden contact with his skin is making me weak. The wound has opened up. I didn’t put the right bandages on it. Jacob carries me to the bedroom.

  It’s so dark everywhere and I feel lightheaded, like I’m losing oxygen fast.

  “No, leave it. This is nothing. Just a cut. You should go home,” I say, but he pulls my robe away and takes off my pyjama trousers. He swears, and when I look up, he is staring horrified at my self-inflicted wounds.

  “My God, Dora … why? Why did you hurt yourself? This needs to be stitched up,” he mumbles. “I’m only asking you for the truth.”

  “The truth is twisted and ugly. It haunts me every day and I can’t face it. We were never meant to be and there is nothing you can do or say that will change that,” I say calmly.

  He shakes his head and leaves the room for a few minutes. I’m glad, wondering if he finally left me alone. Then he is back with bandages and a clean towel. He tends my wound, not even making eye contact with me. His touch is warming my broken heart, my raw emotions. It’s only for now. Then I’ll be left alone in the darkness. When he’s done and my wound is well covered, Jacob shifts closer to me and cups my face in his palms.

  “You did this, Dora? You cut yourself on purpose? Please just tell me why. Let me understand,” he begs, his eyes wide and teary.

  I shake my head. I can’t and I won’t. The truth is too hurtful; he must not know.

  “Jacob, this case, I don’t need to be your solicitor. I un—”

  “No, Dora, this has nothing to do with the case, so stop it. Stop being so closed off. You ruined me five years ago, and you’re destroying whatever is happening between us now, with lies. I’m done asking for the truth,” he says, pulling away from me and getting up. I don’t understand what he is saying.