Page 118 of Into the Dark
“I’ll tell him the truth.”
I blink at this. “But isn’t he…his…?” What on earth is Kevin to Freddy? Employee? I decide to go with friend. “Aren’t they friends? Isn’t that why he’s here?”
Jake opens his eyes and gives me a look—a look that tells me I know nothing. “No, baby, he’s not his friend. Freddy isn’t anyone’s friend.” He closes his eyes again and goes back to washing himself, clinical motions of his hands over his body, under his arms, between his legs. I watch, hypnotized. When he reaches his penis, he cleans himself in the way he’d pleasure himself, moving his fisted hand up and down the length. Despite everything going on around us, I can’t help but get lost in it. In him.
He finishes rinsing the soap from his body and reaches behind him to turn off the shower. When he steps out of the cubicle, I reach behind me to grab the towel from the rack and hold it out to him.
“Okay, so they’re not friends, but I assume Kevin is of some use to Freddy. You put him in the hospital, Jake. Won’t he be angry about that?”
Jake stares at me while drying himself. “The only thing Freddy is likely to be angry about is that I didn’t finish the job.” His eyes are weighted with meaning.
Finish the job? What does that mean? Finish the job. Then it hits me.
“Fred wants Kevin dead,” I say numbly.
Jake says nothing, but the look he gives me is enough to confirm it. He wraps the towel around his waist and goes through to the bedroom. I follow after him.
“Why would Freddy want Kevin dead, Jake?” My brain offers all sorts of reasons, thoughts and suspicions crashing about like violent waves, though none really make any sense. But suddenly one pops up. One loud reason that makes perfect sense.
“He thinks Kevin is the one who made the deal with the police, doesn’t he? Freddy thinks Kevin is the informant… Oh god, and you’ve let him think that.” I bring my hands up to my face and cover my mouth, pacing back across the room. When I turn back to him, Jake is watching me carefully, expectantly. “Jake, this is dangerous. So bloody dangerous I can’t…” I shake my head in disbelief. It doesn’t seem real. Any of it. This is like some kind of alternate reality where things from movies bleed into real life. How is this real life? How is this my life? How did I become tangled up in this?
He comes toward me and wraps me up in his arms. I know how I got tangled up in it. Because I got tangled up in him. Because I fell in love with him.
“It was always dangerous, baby. You knew that,” he says gently, pressing his mouth to the top of my head. “It’s far better for us if Fred thinks Kev is the rat, not me. I didn’t plant the idea—he got there by himself. I just wasn’t about to correct him on it. I improvised.” He kisses the top of my head. “Trust me, yeah? I know what I’m doing.”
Of course he’s right. It’s far better that Fred distrusts Kevin, suspects Kevin. But it doesn’t matter how much Jake thinks he knows what he’s doing or how much he prepares—things can still get out of control. Like last night. Things got out of his control then. Did he just improvise? The fear and worry feel bitter in my tummy. I have to trust him. I’m only going to make myself ill otherwise. I take a deep breath and press my cheek to the warm skin of his chest.
“I wish we could just leave, go somewhere faraway where no one knows us,” I say. More than ever I wish we could do that.
“Mmm. Where would we go?” He presses another touch of his lips to my head.
“Maybe California.”
Jake’s name and what it means would mean nothing there. It would be a distant memory. When we were apart I spent hours in the fantasy of another life for us. A house by the sea, a back porch that opens onto the beach, long walks at dusk or dawn hand in hand, Jake tanned and relaxed and free. It seems more like a fantasy now than it ever did.
“Not much longer, I promise,” he says, steadfast. “Stay with me, yeah? I need you.”
I tilt my head to look up into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He responds by sliding a hand around the back of my neck and pulling my head up to meet his. Then he kisses me hard. When a moment later he untangles our tongues and steps away from me to go to the sink, I let out a little noise of unhappiness.
“So, dinner with Freddy and his twenty-three-year-old girlfriend. How is that likely to go?”
In the mirror I see something flicker over his eyes, but it’s gone almost instantly. “Either really well or really fucking badly,” he says vaguely.
“Well, that’s helpful, Jake.” I give him an eye roll, to which he responds with a lopsided smile. “Should I have made an excuse? Said I was busy? I know you didn’t want us to go…”
Another shrug—in defeat this time. “He’s been pestering me about meeting you since we got back together. I’ve been avoiding it. We’ll go. We’ll eat spaghetti. He does make a good spaghetti.”
I nod and gaze about the bathroom feeling useless while he brushes his teeth. Despite his assurances and revelations, I still feel the dull edge of panic press against the inside of my rib cage. Jake wipes his mouth with the towel and walks naked into the bedroom. I sit on the bed and watch him dress.
“So Kevin is okay then?”
“He’s fine.”
“Fine.” I find that incredibly hard to believe myself. Jake’s attack was sustained.
He turns to face me, eyes dark with rage. “Honestly, I couldn’t give two fucks, but yeah, he’s alive. And if he knows what’s good for him he’ll fuck off out of London, because if I see him again he won’t be fine for long. It’s not only Freddy who wants him dead.”