The Scottish Fetish

CHAPTER 28

"Wow! Ya look spectacular! " Ina cooed, as the smartly dressed man checked himself out in the mirror in her bedroom. She'd offered to let him try on some suits for the date since all he owned were leather jackets, leather pants and black clothes that she'd only seen cat burglars wear! "I look ridiculous! An' this blazer's too itchy! Might I ask who owned this shitty suit? " the unimpressed rock star enquired, fidgeting with his sleeves as he spoke. "It was my dad's." she replied, her voice just a whisper. "Oh...sorry...actually, I think it looks pretty good...it's, spectacular! " he corrected himself, noticing a tear roll down his hurt manager's cheek. "Here. Try this on." she ordered, regaining her composure as she handed him a purple tie. Her mum passed by with the laundry as Ina stood tippytoes to help him with his tie. "He looks like a proper gentlemen. Less like the weirdo from yer posters, love." the equally impressed woman exclaimed, looking him over as she peeked inside the room. "What d'you know bout proper gentlemen, eh, mum? You've only dated proper arseholes! " Ina retorted, coldly. The hurt woman said nothing, instead pressing down the pile of dirty clothes in the hamper before continuing on her way. "Ya know, ya shouldn't talk to yer mum like that." he reprimanded her, completing his look as he wore the cufflinks she'd placed on the dressing table. "Yer lucky, ya even have yer mum around." she heard him mutter. "I don't mean to....but, I tell ya, she's got the worst taste in men! I just care bout er, I guess. Anyway....tell me bout yer mum." the journalist in her came to life, as she began to enquire curiously. "She was the best person. I adored er! In fact, she would've loved Sylvie....probably would have given me a whack behind my head and put me in my place if I'd dared divorce er! She an' my dad argued a lot. He was a drunk, he hit her a lot...hit me too...an' one day, he hit er so hard, he killed er! I ran away from home an' I never looked back...." he recounted in a sombre manner, but was interrupted as Troy announced his arrival with a loud burp. They prepared to leave, since she wanted to avoid a conversation with the loathsome man. "Wish I could've asked yer boyfriend to stay o'er for dinner....but, I've eaten it all! " he mocked, as she rolled her eyes at him. "Did ya wipe out an entire six pack while ya were at it too? " she muttered, noticing his bloodshot eyes. "Ok, smart arse....Try to use protection, eh? " he jeered in a tone as if indicating that she was a trollop, before sneering at the rock star. "Get yer mind outta the gutter, ya arsehole! " she cried out, angrily. "Don't turn yer back on me, young lady! I'm speakin to ya an' I deserve respect, ya hear?! I'm yer dad! " he yelled drunkenly, before catching hold of her hand. "Yer not my dad! Yer just a soddin drunk who hurts mum when I'm not around! Don't think I haven't noticed her scars an' bruises. Now, let go o' my hand! " she ordered, struggling against his tightening grip. "Let her go, or else..." the concerned rock star came to her aid. He let go, leaving a bruise on her wrist, before turning on him. "How dare ya?! Threatening me in my own house?! " Troy growled. "Ya know, I was too afraid to hit my dad...but, I think I can muster up the courage to punch yer daylights out! " the annoyed rock star threatened, swinging at the cussing man with all his might. He landed a hard one on the side of his face and Ina's mum (who'd arrived on hearing the commotion) watched in horror as the unconscious man slumped against the wall. She stood still and Ina swore she saw a hint of a smile on her mum's face. "An' for the record, it's not yer house. It's my dad's! " Ina corrected, kicking him one last time in the ribs.
"Good shot! " she praised him, as she hurried outside. He followed her with an ice pack pressed against his aching knuckles. "Well, I learnt from the best! " he bragged, referring to Sylvia.