Ivan
My phone goes off with a text. I grab it to prevent it waking Christina. I kept her up until the early hours this morning. It’s Hannah, she needs to see me urgently, without Christina. Frowning, I read over it again. Why would she say “without Christina”? Sighing, I shake my head. It’s probably about money. If it is about what Christina said last night, Hannah is going to be disappointed. I respond to give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet her for breakfast downstairs.
While I shower and dress, I think over what Christina said last night. She is perfect for me, in ways I had never thought possible. How odd life can be, to find someone who fits your needs and desires on every level. I restrain myself from kissing her before I leave the room, not wanting to wake her.
Hannah is at the breakfast table. She has been crying.
“What’s the matter?”
She shakes her head as she pushes an envelope toward me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to give this to you. I almost burned it but...I love you too much.”
Photographs, the envelope contains three photographs. They are of Christina and a man. I see them only I do not see them, cannot comprehend what I’m looking at. Her ass is on display, the man is holding her tight. Christina’s face is a blur in the second one. Shaking my head, I wonder, was she caught in mid-orgasm? I close my eyes but the images are burned into my retinas.
Nausea roils in my stomach, fire burns inside my ears. How could this be? How could she do this? How could Christina make love to me with her entire being, then allow another man to touch her? To fuck another man, then sleep in my arms... The world stutters to a stop as I open my eyes.
She couldn’t. Christina, the Christina who looks at me as if I were her whole world. The Christina who knows my faults, sees every one of them and still wants me anyway, could never do this. Would never do this.
I look at Hannah. Her face and eyes are swollen from crying; she has managed to tear off the fake nails she usually wears and is gnawing at one nail aggressively.
“Where did you get these?”
Her knee is bouncing up and down. “Alfie is Roger’s mate. The bloke Christina shagged. Alfie said Roger asked for pictures, he does with all the slags he’s with. Likes to keep them for fun later on. When Alfie saw Christina and you at the wedding, he recognized her and thought you should know.”
Slowly, I nod. “What is it I owe this Alfie? Beyond my eternal thanks, of course?”
Eyes wide, “What?”
“He doesn’t want anything for these? He sent them to me through you as a gift?”
I recognize the look on her face. At thirteen, she had the same one. An ache stirs in my chest, bringing up long-forgotten memories. Teaching her how to swim, having that talk with her about boys, and the difference between boys and men. What had I gotten wrong?
“Fifty, he wants fifty thousand pounds. As you know, he’ll destroy the originals. He can get to them.”
“Just fifty thousand? That’s generous of him.”
She nods, as she side-eyes her phone. “He’s a good guy.”
“A good guy who takes pictures of women his mate is fucking for his mate to keep later. Sounds like a fucking gem.”
She blinks fast. “I—”
“How much do you owe? And to whom?”
Her eyes won’t meet mine as she shakes her head. “I don’t know what—”
My laugh is bitter. “You know what, Hannah. You know. I know. This isn’t Christina. You’ve doctored these photos.”
She freezes.
And so do I. I swallow hard against the bile rising in my throat. “These had better be doctored photos. Look me in the eye, Hannah, and tell me what the fuck you did and why. And just maybe I won’t put my hands around your neck and squeeze.” Fury threatens to overtake me.
“Ivan.” A small, soft hand comes down on my shoulder, her touch at once soothing the beast inside me. “I’m okay. It was scary.”
Which means she was terrified.
“But I’m okay. I would just really like to know, Hannah, why?”
I can’t think straight; I pull Christina into my arms. Her hand strokes my arm, feeling the tension inside me.