Saved By You Page 2

  “Alright, here we are,” Lucy says.

  We pull up to a cluster of small buildings: small square blocks with tiny windows and flat roofs, and chain-link fencing surrounding the front garden with more concrete than there is grass. From the outside, they look like the type of accommodation units you’d find near a prison for those that are still under surveillance. I guess given my history, I still am.

  “Is this the place?” I ask, covering my eyes with my hand to block out the sun as I get out of the car.

  “These are the units we provide for those that are in our system. You’ll get regular visits from myself or a member of the team each week to make sure you’re both doing okay.”

  “You mean make sure I’ve not slipped back into old ways?”

  She gives me a straight smile which only confirms I am right.

  “The one at the far end is yours; it’s a little bigger than the others and has a garden so Charlie can play out, but I guess you’ll be spending most of the time on the beach and in the water.”

  Not likely. The beach yes, but all form of adventure stops where water is involved.

  Taking Charlie out of the car seat Lucy provided, we make our way into the building. It doesn’t smell of stale urine like I expected it to: it smells of fresh paint and flowers, the white walls look damp free and the carpet looks almost brand new.

  “Are we the first to live in here?”

  “This place has been vacant for a while. The other units are occupied, and most of our tenants have either settled with full-time work or they volunteer at Care Services or various shelters we provide around the bay. We’ll provide you with a CS card so things like travelling expenses and medical bills you’ll get reductions on.”

  Great so people will soon know that I really am a fucking charity case.

  The two-roomed property has a tiny open-plan kitchen that leads into a living area. A sofa, a television and a double mattress on a makeshift palette-type frame fills the small living space while a few toys that have been provided for Charlie and a cot bed stands in the far corner. The bathroom, which is even smaller, consists of a shower, sink, toilet and a small cupboard on the wall. I can just about cope with the size, but what really disappoints me is that I have no bath for Charlie to have his splash time in. He loves it, and seeing as I don’t adventure to any sort of leisure centres it’s the only form of water play he has.

  “What do you think, Charlie?” I murmur, kissing his head and looking around. It’s no palace but it’s a roof over our heads, which I’m grateful for. “Do you like it?”

  “Dis?” he babbles, pointing at nothing.

  “This is where we are going to be staying.”

  “Welcome to your new home,” Lucy beams.

  Home.

  It sounds so surreal.

  Home to me has been the back of abandoned cars or dirty sofas in the local dumping ground after running from my foster family once I was removed from this town all those years ago. Home is nightclubs with teenage girls waiting for older guys to take care of them for the night while they line their pockets with cocaine and cash. That’s the kind of home I’ve been living in for the last sixteen years.

  Maybe this place is a palace after all.

  “You’re very quiet, Tori,” Lucy says softly, looking at me with her big eyes. Her shiny dark hair falls in curls over her shoulders, stopping at the beginning of her tight blue dress that would knock a man dead if the neckline were lower and there were a slit up the thigh. “Everything alright?”

  “It’s a little too much to take in,” I admit. “I don’t know what to say.”

  The warmth of her hand on my arm irritates me a little. I’ve given her the impression I’m struggling, and that was never my intention. I don’t know what to say because it’s true. Ever since I was a teenager, I’ve had nothing and no one, lived in the dirtiest conditions you can imagine, feared for my safety as soon as dusk fell and hit rock bottom more times than I can remember. Life has been nothing but one big fucking struggle. I may not deserve all of this because of who I am and what I’ve done, but I know Charlie does, and it’s for that reason I’m a little taken aback. Because for the first time since I gave birth to him, I realise that the only reason he has all these things is because someone else has provided them for him when his own mother should have. I can’t even afford the clothes on our backs and the only personal belongings we have are the items in the bag I’ve dumped on the floor.

  “You don’t have to say anything. You’ve worked so hard for this, Victoria. Enjoy it.” She flits her way around the bedsit, telling me where everything is. “Your allowance has come through, and a new bank account will be set up in a couple days. You’ll have to stop by Care Services to help us set that up for you. In the meantime, the girls at CS have bought you food supplies and necessary bits for Charlie to keep you both going for a couple weeks.”

  My blood begins to heat with the irritation and intrusion. I really fucking hate this. Having people take care of me when I’m used to going alone frustrates me, even all these months into the programme.

  “Make sure you eat, and most importantly that Charlie is kept well fed and watered.”

  “I always put him first!” I snap. “I’m not some child that doesn’t know the importance of nutrition when it comes to feeding her baby.”

  Lucy’s eyebrows lift with my sudden outburst, and Charlie starts to whimper.

  “Tori, my job is to help people break away from the gutter and make a better life for themselves. I know you put Charlie first—I can see that in his development—but regardless of that fact, I wouldn’t be doing my job correctly if I didn’t say what you don’t wish to hear.”

  She’s right. Everyone has to throw the rulebook at you, regardless of whether they want to or not.

  “I’m sorry.” I sigh, exhaustion now kicking in from all the travelling. “I’m just tired; I never meant to bite your head off.”

  “I completely understand. You’ve had a long trip and no doubt want time to adjust to being back home. Get some rest. One of the girls will pop by tomorrow, and I’ll call you in a couple days to see how you’re both settling in. In the meantime, please ring me if you need anything or want to talk. I’m always here. Make sure you stop by CS to sort out the next set of paperwork to finally settle you both in.”

  She ruffles Charlie’s hair as he wriggles in my arms before making her way to the door. A part of me wants her to stay so she can take the edge of the uncertainty in my stomach that’s slowly creeping in. “So that’s it? Now that I’m here I just… start over?”

  She smiles softly. “Yes. You’ve proved you’re more than capable of caring for the both of you. But that doesn’t mean we are not here to help. Make sure you both register at the local health care unit for regular checks and keep up with attending your meetings. I take it you’re still up for wanting to find work?”

  “Yes. I need some cash coming in to support us, but I don’t know how that will work around Charlie.”

  “The local nursery still has a few spaces available. You can get financial support to help with that. Plus, we have qualified staff that work around the clock for those parents in our system that work crazy hours,” she smiles. “Don’t be ashamed to use our services, Tori, but don’t be afraid to not need us either. You’re a fantastic mother and have come so far in your journey. You’ve got this.”

  With that, she’s gone leaving us in a tiny living space with nothing but silence and a bag of clothes. I lock the door and slide the two safety bolts and chain across before heading back into the living room.

  In some ways, I feel more vulnerable now than what I did on the streets. Is it because I’m back? Is it because in my blood I know I belong here but my heart says otherwise? Am I making a big mistake?

  I take a deep breath and push my thoughts away. “It’s just us now, Charlie bear,” I say softly as I remove his clothes, leaving him in his vest and nappy. He begins to whimper and rub his eyes as I place him d
own on my mattress before I strip off to my underwear and vest top. Pulling out the elastic from my hair, I run my fingers through the long black locks, stretching my tense shoulders as I lay beside Charlie. I stroke his soft hair, his sleepy eyes fighting to stay awake as his little fingers lock around my own.

  “Mama.”

  “Yes, baby?” I whisper.

  “Dis?”

  “That’s Mummy’s chin.” His fingers patter along my jaw. “I’m going to take us to the beach tomorrow. Mummy hasn’t been for a very long time. We can build some sandcastles. Does that sound good?”

  “No,” he responds, and I can’t help but smile. He places his hand on my mouth and I kiss his palm as he finally gives in and falls asleep with his snuggle blanket under his arm.

  I think about the conversation with Lucy and everything she said.

  I can do this; I’ve been doing it my entire life. I’m just heading down a different path with familiar surroundings. I just hope I’ve made the right decision and that my son will never resent me as his mother because of who I was before he came into this world. Because if I don’t have him. I have nothing.

  “I’m going to make everything better now, baby, no matter what it takes. I promise.” I whisper, before pulling him closer and closing my eyes.

  Chapter Three

  Lucas.

  As the base of the music thunders its way around the building, an overwhelming rush travels through my body as the pretty blonde works her mouth of magic around my dick, bobbing her head and smearing red lipstick in all the right places while the sea breeze whispers against my bare thighs. As my head falls back against the stone wall, I close my eyes, relishing the fact my troubled mind has been erased and replaced with nothing but tranquillity for several minutes—minutes I’ve longed for to take away the darkness and the never-ending shit that I’m constantly battling against: the memories, the pain, the guilt that suffocates me with every breath. It all subsides when I whore myself to a woman whose name I’ll never remember. My move to Spring Rose has been an agenda of the sun, surf and sexy girls and I’m glad I made the right call in coming here. There was plenty of hot sex available in LA, but the need to burn a part of my past that has swallowed me so deeply was far greater. I needed a purpose again. I needed to get my head straight and bury those demons—try to finally move on. So, I came here. On the plus side, there is something about the coastal girls in Denim hot pants and with sand in their hair that gets my pulse racing. Only, I've not had sex in weeks, well, not internal deep-in-pussy sex. My therapist’s advice is to limit myself for a while, and I have. He never said I couldn’t get my dick wet in other ways.

  I fist her hair tighter as my arse cheeks tighten and my orgasm erupts in her mouth. Her long lashes brush over her rose colour cheeks as she swallows every salty drop with a moan and I find myself grinning like a schoolboy. The woman sucks like it’s her profession. “Jesus, you’ll make some guy a very happy husband one day,” I grunt. She releases me with a pop and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before coming to a stand. I lean against the wall for a second to absorb the feeling of contentment that’s travelling through my body as she presses herself against me.

  “He’ll make me an even happier wife if I don’t have to give him a blow job around the back of a nightclub with grit pressing into my knees,” she grins.

  “Is that a complaint?”

  “It will be if his dick isn’t as big as yours.”

  I laugh and shrug back into my trousers, checking my watch to see how much time we have left. I’d offer her a drink but that would mean exchanging names and the possibility of her wanting a repeat performance of tonight, which again isn’t going to happen. No matter how good her mouth is, I never go back to the same woman twice.

  Ever.

  “Same time tomorrow, big boy?”

  “I’ll check my diary.” By the look on her face, she’s read me loud and clear.

  “Well, call me if you ever get bored.” She adjusts her dress and kisses the side of my cheek as if to be polite before heading left out of the car park and onto the busy promenade without another word. Should I feel like an arsehole for picking them up and dropping them when I’m done? Probably, but the truth is I don’t. I never mistreat a woman: I make sure their needs are met just as much as mine. I do it because I like it. I do it because I can, but most importantly, like I said, I do it because it’s the perfect distraction from the sleepless nights and the silent anxiety attacks of what brought me here over a year ago.

  I enter Rubie's nightclub via the back door ready to start the next part of my shift. The weekends are the craziest and everyone comes to the club as it’s one of the popular ones in the town. If I’m not here working, I’m here drinking with the two favourite ladies in my life along with their partners. I spot Jack coming out of the cellar with two crates of beers; he gives me a double take and halts. “Oh, Jesus, Lucas, please tell me you haven’t?”

  “I haven't,” I grin.

  “By the look on your face, you totally fucking have.”

  “Then why ask?” He knows me too well. Despite our friendship being new—the pair of us hitting it off on the occasions when I’d visited my sister and our best friend Amelia—the guy has become someone I can rely on as well as a colleague.

  “Can’t you keep it in your damn trousers for a night? You’re at work man.”

  “Correction.” I hold a finger up, still grinning. “I was on a break, therefore, Jacky-boy I can dip my dick as much as I like.” I take a crate of beer from him and we head out into the heart of the club. The spotlights above the bar stream out into the dark room highlighting the number of bodies on the dance floor. The heat hits my skin as the music bounces off the wall.

  “Marcus will kill you if he finds out you’ve been slutting yourself around on his time,” Jack shouts against my ear.

  I cup my hand on his solid shoulder. “Marcus will thank me for keeping this club pumping with pretty girls that like to blow to receive a load.”

  Jack laughs. “You’re a fucking animal.”

  “So, they keep telling me.” I take a bottle of water from the fridge, down it in one before heading out front to resume my position. Being a doorman is a long way down the working ladder from what I’m comfortable with. It’s nothing like the job or the life I had in LA, but in many ways, it’s better. Out there I spent my day protecting those that needed it as a personal bodyguard. For many years, that’s what got me up in the morning. It was what I lived for. I lived and breathed everything about it. I focused on that and that alone and worked damn fucking hard. But life has a way of shifting before you realise and sometimes shit happens a lot faster than you can control—before you know it, you find yourself secretly going to therapy sessions just to try and find something that you’ll never get back.

  A high profiled bodyguard to coastal club doorman. ‘It’s a hard fall’ people say, and they’re right. It may have been a well-paid job and I have more money that I can deal with, but at the end of the day, they don’t know the first fucking thing about it. My heart was set on spending my time in LA and only coming back here for holidays to visit my sister. Being here and working this job was not the vision I’d had, but maybe it’s the place I need to be. And if I’m honest, Spring Rose has again invaded my heart like it once did when I was a boy. The childhood holidays myself and Megan spent here as kids were the best we could ask for. A couple weeks out on the waves with the sun beating down on my back never faded the smile from my face. It was a welcoming environment from the city life we grew up in. But like everything in life, nothing goes how it plans and something or someone tarnishes’ it leaving you searching for answers you can never find, and I have my fucking Uncle Richard to thank for that.

  “Well if it isn’t Mr Beautiful himself.”

  I grin and turn at the sound of Amelia’s voice coming across the promenade. She and my sister Megan, along with Felicity are heading to the club ready for a night of tequila shots and inappropr
iate conversations.

  “Well if it isn’t my three favourite ladies.” I beam, kissing Megan on the cheek before moving to do the same to Amelia. “Looking knockout as usual.”

  “Did you hear that, Fliss? My brother has now made you one of his girls.”

  “Well, I do see her like every day.”

  Felicity’s cheeks turn crimson as I take her hand to kiss her knuckles. “Ms Black. Always a pleasure to have you as one of my girls,” I follow with a wink and her cheeks deepen in colour. “If you need anything just call.”

  “That’s Lucas’s polite way of saying if you want sex, his bed is always vacant,” Amelia replies with a giggle.

  “Ginger Spice, whatever gave you that idea?” I say, raising one eyebrow. We go back a fair few years—even before me moving here—and the bond we’ve built in that time will never break. Our relationship is stronger than most and I treat her as if we are blood.

  “Nothing, only you’re my best friend’s brother and she herself learnt her flirtatious habits from someone. I can read you two like a book,” she grins.

  Megan slaps Amelia on the shoulder giving her a dead eye. “Watch it, Ginger. I’m a happily married woman now. My crazy days and flirty chat up lines are over. I’m a brand new me.”

  “Jesus, keep telling yourself that,” Felicity adds.

  “Does this ‘brand new’ you mean no more tequila or table dancing from now on, sis?” I ask, already knowing her answer.

  “Look, I said I was a brand new me, not that I was going to start visiting church on Sundays and take up knitting.”

  “That’s a shame, I could do with a new sweater.” Felicity laughs.

  For those that don’t know her, Megan’s middle name is party. She loves the attention and the buzz, and I still can’t believe out of all of us, she was the first to settle down and marry.