No Strings

Chapter 29

I'm not stringing anyone along! I wanted to scream at him. If anything it was that gorgeous idiot currently tied to a chair who was stringing me along, had been for three months now. In fact, he was breaking my heart. But of course, I didn't yell any of that at Paul. It would hardly help.

Looking at Paul, his black eyes glaring at me from under his thick eyebrows, I wondered how I could ever have felt the same about him. But I had been very young and he had been very manipulative. I was too young to know any better. But I wasn't young anymore and I had a good idea what love was now, and I was wishing with all my heart that I had carried on avoiding it. Why had I introduced myself to Jake that evening? Why had I got myself into this mess?

I glanced at Jake. He was managing to look pretty relaxed considering. I knew how cold he was because I had felt his skin but he wasn't showing any sign of discomfort. His chin was held up and his broad shoulders were straight and he was staring defiantly into space, seemingly refusing to look at either me or Paul. Was he mad with me? It was hard to tell. As usual he wasn't giving anything away.

How long were we going to be stuck here?

"Why are you doing this, Paul?" I asked as he turned his back on me to turn on the kettle.

"Let's have a nice cuppa," he said with in an inappropriately chirpy tone, completely ignoring me.

Jake had forced himself to look at me and he was slowly shaking his head in a warning gesture but I ignored him.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked again.

Paul turned around brandishing two cups, having put the gun down on the counter. I could sense Jake's gaze fixed on it.

"Because I fucking hate coppers," he said calmly, putting the cups down and opening the fridge door. "And he's a copper," he said, nodding his head towards Jake.

"But he's ... murder squad?" I asked Jake. I couldn't remember what he had said.

He nodded. "Homicide and serious crime division," he said and then added as if he couldn't help himself correcting Paul, "I'm a detective."

"See ... nothing to do with you Paul," I said.

"I think when he started fucking you, it became something to do with me," he said, still ominously calm.

I bit my lip to control my temper. This ridiculous possessiveness had been there for years now, and I had been so naive to think it would just go away with time - it had clearly got worse instead. And for some reason my non relationship with Jake was fueling the fire.

"It's just sex, Paul," I lied. "It's nothing to get upset about. I've been using him for sex, that's all."

Jake was staring at the floor now, silent and still.

"Don't fucking lie to me," Paul said, putting the milk back in the fridge. "I know when you're lying to me, Sarah."

Jake raised his head, sensing the slight change of tone in Paul's voice.

"I'm not lying," I said helplessly. What else could I do? I could hardly tell him I was in love with Jake. That wouldn't go down very well at all.

Paul stepped towards me and gripped my chin which made Jake twitch in his bindings, so violently the chair legs made a scraping noise on the floor. But Paul just ignored him and grinned his nasty little grin, revealing sharp teeth. It was a predator's grin and it made me shiver.

"Look me straight in the eye and tell me he means nothing to you."

The kettle started furiously boiling and automatically switched off as Paul stared at me. I had always been a terrible liar but it was time to act my socks off. Paul had never been violent with me but there was a first time for everything and he definitely was teetering on some kind of precipice. And there was Jake to think of. I had to protect him. So I looked him in the eye.

"He means nothing to me, Paul," I said. "It's just sex."

I wanted so badly to look at Jake to convey to him somehow why I had to do this but I managed to stay staring back at Paul, who grunted thoughtfully, my chin still gripped in his tight hold.

"And I suppose he's good at that, is he?" he asked.

Bloody hell, why couldn't he just leave it? My head was aching with the stress of having to measure every single word I said and what was I going to say now? Yes, he's the best I've ever had?

"Mr Plod here is good in the sack is he?" and he let go of my chin and turned his head to look at Jake who was back to staring blankly into space, clearly not daring to show any reaction at all.

"Paul," I pleaded. "Why does it matter?"

"Because you're mine!" he shouted, grabbing hold of my neck. "You're fucking mine and nobody else can have you."

***

That was the moment. It was bad enough watching him grip Sarah's chin but when he wrapped his hands around her neck I shrugged off the bindings I had finally managed to loosen and shot towards the gun still sitting on the counter.

I pointed it at the back of his head.

"Get your hands off her," I growled.

He laughed, a nasty braying sound, as he let go of her.

"Your knight in shining armour, Sarah," he said. "Aren't you lucky to have such a big brave man protecting you?" and then without warning he kicked me in the shin which nearly buckled my legs and while I managed to stay upright he grabbed at the wrist that was holding the gun. He was bigger than me and sober this time and fucking strong. We struggled, me refusing to loosen my grip, him trying to kick my legs from under me again.

"Sarah," I managed to gasp, "Get away. Get out of the room!" But I was too late, the lunatic got hold of the gun in my hand and it went off with a deafening noise, and I saw Sarah slump to the floor.

Letting go of the gun and not caring about my own safety, I threw myself down onto the floor beside her. "Sarah," I yelled, "Sarah!" and I turned her over trying to find where she had been hit, but there was a lot of blood.

Then I felt the gun shoved into the back of my head and with a cold flood of certainty knew that this was it. The bastard was going to finish me off.

There was total silence. All I could hear was my anxious breathing. I looked down at Sarah's unconscious face and thought at least she was the last thing I would see.

Then the gun moved away and there was another beat of silence and then the sound of a gunshot ripped through the room once again. I flinched but nothing hit me. Something heavy and solid fell to the floor behind me and I turned around to see Paul's body slumped on the kitchen floor. The bastard had shot himself instead of me. I was still alive.

I looked back at Sarah. The colour was leaking from her face, I had to so something to stem the blood flow so I grabbed a tea towel and locating the wound in her shoulder pressed it down hard.
My breath came in painful gasps as I tried to keep myself under control. I couldn't believe it was happening again. All I could do was stem the flow of blood and pray to every God that might possibly exist for her not to die. Not this time. I couldn't go through this again. I couldn't watch a woman I love die in front of me again.