Scarred by You Page 29

  Then it hits me. If I told my teenage self that, I’d have never come across Dayna. And I’d take the lows, all of them, to have been with her for any length of time.

  “You on leave?” Sam asks, patting the kid on the back and ducking between the ropes to slip out of the ring.

  “We could call it permanent leave, yeah. I quit.”

  Sam looks over me, rubbing glistening sweat from his forehead. “Wanna go a round?”

  No questions. No judgement. “I fucking love you, Sam, you know that?”

  He flicks his head towards the ring. “Let me get a drink and we’ll go.”

  I bounce from foot to foot and swing my head from side to side, limbering up. Sam climbs into the ring and lets rip. He doesn’t give in to me; he comes at me full throttle, landing blows, accepting mine. He’s a machine, and I have a lot of steam to let off. So we go until I’m spent and my t-shirt is saturated. Sweat runs down my arms and legs and into my eyes.

  DAY SIX.

  Maybe I didn’t understand her at all.

  I’m beginning to fester. I haven’t put my mind to my next career move. I’ve given up on shaving, and the only place I go is the gym. And once to the local store to stock up on carbs.

  The chair in the lounge has a dint, as if it’s fed up of seeing my arse for ten hours a day. My iPhone rings just before six, and Jay’s name flashes up on the screen.

  “Clark, get your sorry arse ready and come out. Don’t give me bullshit. It’s a couple of pints after work. I’m in Clock Tower. Get here, loser.”

  He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before hanging up. I walk to the bathroom and stare at the growth around my chin. I probably should get out. I shave around my lip but leave the rest. I shower and pull on jeans and a jumper and head out to meet Jay.

  I walk through Clock Tower, acknowledging people I know as I pass them. The place is packed, more so than on a usual Friday, because of all the Christmas parties. I find Jay, Teddy and a couple of Jay’s work mates standing at one end of the bar.

  “You look fucking rough, man,” Jay says.

  “Yeah, cheers. Get me a beer, dick.”

  My first drink of the week goes down easily, and I trade the empty glass for a second pint. I listen to the conversation, but mostly just look around the bar, as if I might see her in a place I don’t think she’s ever been.

  “Clark, I thought that was you.” Amanda — a tall, leggy blonde who I slept with once a few years back after a drunken night out.

  I lean in to kiss her cheek as the other men gawp at her tits in her tight white shirt that should probably be buttoned up an extra one. “Nice to see you, Amanda. How are you?”

  She speaks to me but I hardly listen. It’s mindless crap about her day trading commodities. Maybe that’s something I could do.

  Jay buys her a drink in our next round. I could kick him. I just want rid of her, but Jay can’t take his eyes off her pert arse, which admittedly looks hot in her pencil skirt.

  “I’d love to get out of these work clothes,” she says into my ear. “It’s been a long day. How do you fancy coming back to my place where we can chill out a little?”

  She leans into my side, pressing her tits against my arm. Any other day, my cock would be twitching, but even as she rubs herself against me and grips my thigh, all I can think is that Dayna wouldn’t behave like that.

  “Sorry, Amanda, I’ve got to be up early tomorrow.” I shout over to Jay, “Hey Jay! Get Amanda another drink, bud?”

  He comes over, taking the hint. “What would you like, Amanda? You look like a Cosmopolitan woman to me.”

  She giggles and slaps him on the arm. I pat Teddy on the back and slope out of the bar.

  DAY NINE.

  I’m standing in the kitchen finishing a bowl of porridge when I get a call.

  “Clark Layton.”

  “Clark, John Hatfield here. We met in North Dakota at the Swinston charity bash last year.”

  “I remember. Hi John. What can I do for you?”

  “I heard on the grapevine you’ve stepped down from Layton Oil. I just wanted to make sure I got my facts right, from the horse’s mouth and all that.”

  I put my bowl in the sink and rinse it under the tap. “Your facts are right.”

  “Listen, there might be an opportunity coming up at Travis International, and I was wondering if you’d be interested in meeting to talk about it in the new year? It’s on the QT for now, but I’ll be in London early January.”

  I agree to lunch on the third of January and hang up the phone. Maybe I should start getting my arse back in gear. I can’t live on savings forever.

  And she’s not coming.

  I head to the gym and train with Sam. After that I help him out, taking kids for one-on-one training sessions. The gym is packed with testosterone-fuelled teens. Term has finished at schools and universities, and Sam’s gym has a solid name, so a load of rich kids who want to blow off steam and sharpen their pecs for picking up women flood the place. It kind of makes me smile. I used to be one of those rich kids. Helping out feels sort of good.

  It’s already dark outside when Jay comes into the gym. I’ve worked out enough for the day, but Sam still has energy so spars with Jay. I watch, talking to Jay when he takes two minutes out. We avoid talking about Connie, for now. It’s still early days, and I’d like to think we’ll all get to a point where we could be comfortable to hang out together again, but any time soon would be pushing it.

  We leave the gym together and pick up a pack of twelve Buds on the way back to my place. Snow must have started falling while we were in the gym because it already lightly covers the ground. Huge soft flakes continue to fall, and as pretty as they are, we’re in gym gear, not winter gear, so we jump the gate and cut through Hyde Park because it’s quicker than walking around. We’re close to my front door when I stop dead in my tracks. Jay stops talking and follows my gaze to Dayna.

  She’s wrapped in a big blue coat with a fur hood and wears a cream wool hat to match her gloves. The hair that falls across her shoulders is sprinkled with snow. Her cheeks and nose are pink from the cold’s bite.

  “It’s snowing,” I say, not moving from the spot.

  She laughs and sniffs, rubbing her nose. “I know.”

  “How long have you been out here?”

  “A while.”

  Jay takes the box of Bud from under my arm. “Catch you later, man.”

  I don’t respond as he walks away. I focus on putting one foot in front of the other and getting to Dayna. I can’t resist reaching out and turning her hair in my fingers, just to make sure I’m not imagining her standing in front of me.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I was wondering whether you have any plans for Christmas?”

  Is this a test? Or does she know I really have disowned my father? “I don’t have any plans for Christmas.”

  “Okay. Me neither. I thought maybe we could keep each other company.”

  When my lungs remember how to breathe, I take a huge inhale. “What changed your mind?”

  Her lips curl into a lopsided smile, and she looks up at me through her lashes with those mesmerising brown eyes. She’s stunning. “A very expensive therapist. I paid her hundreds of pounds to tell me I’m fucked up, and in her professional opinion, you’re pretty screwed-up, too.”

  I chuckle and move my fingertips from her hair to her cheek. Even in the cold, her skin feels like silk.

  She closes her eyes and presses back against my hand. “She said we were both hurting, and we might not be perfect individually but…” She opens her eyes. “Maybe we could bleed together.”

  I take hold of her face in both my hands and drop my forehead to hers, breathing her in.

  “I don’t know how to fix things, Clark. I’m lost. All I know is that we’ve both been lied to. I feel like my whole world has crashed down around me. And you’re the only thing that’s true. You’re the only truth and the only thing that seems real.”
>
  “I don’t know what to do either, Dayna.”

  “I want to smile again. I want to stop doing things because I feel obliged to do them. I want to do something that I want to do, and mostly, I want to be happy. The last time I remember feeling completely, truly happy was when we were together.”

  My heart beats faster than it has in weeks, my pulse higher than I’d get it sparring with Sam. There’s every chance I’ll fuck this up. I know it, and I’m terrified. But holding her now, I feel like I can finally take the breath I’ve been holding for four years.

  “Say you love me,” I whisper against her lips. “Tell me you love me and I’ll keep fighting for us, Dayna. I’ll fight for the rest of my life.”

  “I do.”

  “Say it.”

  “I love you, Clark. I never stopped.”

  “I love you, too. So much.” I close my eyes and press my lips to hers, pulling her waist into mine, kissing the last woman I’ll ever kiss.

  THREE CONFERENCE ROOMS have been opened up to make one large room in the new office space, but it’s still packed in here.

  I stand in the corner, a black umbrella behind me, a silver foil screen to my left, a camera flashing in front of me and a reporter standing by my side.

  She laughs and bats her eyelids at the last thing I said, which really wasn’t funny at all. She flicks her auburn curls across her shoulder and rocks to the side, her too-tight dress displaying the curves of her body to full advantage. Her sickly sweet perfume wafts under my nose.

  God, she’s obvious.

  “Are you nervous about today?” she asks, lifting her Dictaphone closer to me.

  “I have nothing to be nervous about, Ms Lockwood.” I’ve already been through the most nerve-wracking experience of my life, waiting for Dayna to come back to me. “I’m going into business with my best friend, whom I admire and respect.”

  “But New Day Fuels is different from your previous ventures, Mr Layton. You won’t just be focussing on oil and gas, isn’t that right?”

  I nod and she smiles tightly, waving her Dictaphone in front of me. “That’s correct. New Day is different than anything I’ve ever done in so many ways but, yes, one of the key differences is that we have a keen interest in renewable energy and biofuels. We’ll be as clean and green as possible while maintaining a tranche of traditional oil drilling. We have unrivalled expertise in blending, which puts New Day in a fortunate position in what is still a volatile crude industry.”

  The reporter glances at her notepad then shifts uncomfortably in her heels. Another flash goes off, making me squint.

  Ms Lockwood clears her throat. “Finally, Mr Layton, your exit from Layton Oil was swift and much speculated upon. How does your family feel about the new company?”

  I thought outwardly flirting was as unprofessional as she’d get as a reporter for a broadsheet. Obviously not. She’s out for a gossip angle. Disappointing. “Ms Lockwood, I suspect your question is actually ‘what does Harold Layton think of New Day?’. If you’re interested in his view, interview him. Today is about the future for New Day Fuels, not the past.”

  I nod to the photographer, signalling we’re done, and move into the room. What can I say? I’m still working on my temper, and she just pushed my buttons.

  The truth is, I wouldn’t know what Harold Layton thinks of New Day Fuels, because I haven’t spoken to him for twelve months. Even when he found out I quit Layton Oil, he didn’t come near me. Frankly, he can go fuck himself. He’s out of my life. Dayna and I are happy. That’s what matters.

  For a while I let my family think he wouldn’t speak to me because I quit. I didn’t want to tell them the truth and hurt them. But Kathryn knew there was more to it. She pressed me until I told them what really happened. I don’t ask what her or Spencer’s relationship is like with Harold. I do know my mother has stayed with him. They’ll no doubt continue to live a lie. If she ever sees sense, I’ll be waiting.

  I glance around the crowded room until my eyes land on my wife. Any trace of anger instantly disappears as I watch her talking to another member of the press. She looks every bit the head of a global company in her red tailored dress and killer black heels.

  I can’t stop my mind from wandering to those shoes. Last time I saw them she was standing in stockings and suspenders, her legs spread, panting, waiting for me.

  She catches me ogling her and smiles, then gestures to the office manager to dim the lights. We make our way to the front of the room, where the vision statement for New Day Fuels is lit up on a large flat-screen TV. Our board members stop talking first, then the rest of the staff and press, as Dayna and I take our places for our presentation.

  Dayna takes the lead. “Good morning everyone, and welcome to the official launch of New Day Fuels. It’s been a long and turbulent twelve months, but Clark and I are extremely grateful for your patience, hard work and belief in this project.”

  Agreeing to work together took an enormous leap of faith, but I told her I’d worry about her if I couldn’t be close enough to protect her. And she agreed that, provided we could divide our roles in such a way as to avoid trampling on each other’s toes, it would be nice to have something that was ours, and it would be a way to see each other more often. I think she was also excited to work with someone she loves again, but she’ll probably never admit that.

  Once we were married, it really seemed like a no-brainer. We’d already made the biggest commitment of our lives to one another. And any problems, we’d vowed to fix them together.

  “This is what your new board structure looks like.” Dayna clicks over to the next image in the presentation. I smile as our names appear next to each other at the top of the tower as co-chairs.

  “Clark and I will have slightly different focusses. Clark will work to strengthen our international portfolio, while I will concentrate my efforts closer to home.”

  Whether she realises or not, my wife places a hand on the small bump growing under her dress, and I can’t help but beam with pride at my girls.

  Our family.

  The first family I’ve had where we work as a team.

  A family with no hidden agendas.

  I’ll protect them both no matter the cost. I’ll shield them from the venom of Harold Layton. And I have a watchful eye on Caspar Kahn and his upcoming annual accounts. If I have to, I’ll fight them both for my family. I’d give up my life before I let my girls down.

  “I’ll hand over to Clark now, and he’ll talk you through the mission for New Day.”

  I take the remote from her and switch to the next slide. “Thank you, Dayna. As you can see, our goal is to become number one for biofuels globally by 2020. We aim to expand into two alternative renewable areas by 2025…”

  By the end of the presentation there’s an energy in the room. Something new. A fresh start for everyone. An excitement to get going.

  Rachel makes her way towards us. “Great job, guys. I’ll show people out then come back and supervise the clean-up.”

  “Thanks, Rach,” Dayna says.

  When we started working on New Day Fuels, we lost a few good people from the old-school cohort of SP, but Rachel stayed. And we gained a superb CFO.

  “Ted, what was the feeling?” I ask.

  He picks up one of the cream cakes from the end of the buffet table and comes over to us. “Really good, vibe, Clark. Sophia Falicino was practically wetting her knickers.”

  Dayna’s bank manager was keen to support the new venture and invest in New Day. She trusts Dayna, but there’s no doubt she also thinks she’ll make a solid return on investment.

  “Listen, I’m going to head off. Yvette has been looking after Molly all day, and we think she’s teething. Either that or she’s possessed.” He kisses Dayna on the cheek and shakes my hand.

  Dayna heads over to the buffet table and picks up a strawberry tart. She’s determined not to overeat during her pregnancy, but today is a celebration.

  “I think it went well,” she
says when the room is empty.

  “Me too, baby.” I lean over her shoulder and take a bite out of her cake.

  “Hey! Button needs that,” she says, giggling. That gorgeous fucking giggle. I hope Button, as we know her for now, will have a giggle just like her mum’s.

  “So does Daddy,” I say, turning her and wrapping my arms around her waist, pulling her against me. “I love you.”

  “Forever,” she whispers against my lips, right before I kiss her.

  “Can I please take you home and get you out of this dress now?”

  “As much as I’d like that, we have dinner with Arthur and Evelyn, and Mum and Richard.”

  Like that’s not going to be awkward as hell. When we found out we were pregnant, Dayna decided she wanted to have people around Button who would love her. Those people include Dayna’s mother and Arthur. They’re relationships we’re working on. As Dayna would say, we are building a bridge and walking over it.

  Still, I’d rather take my wife home. Grumbling, I roll my hips against her.

  In response, she sticks her cream cake on the end of my nose. She puts her fingertips over her lips, looking pretty proud of herself and clearly happy.

  Smiling, I rub the cream from my nose and wipe it on hers. “You’ll pay for that later, baby.”

  “Oh, I hope so, Clark.”

  Thank you so much for reading Scarred by You. If you enjoyed Clark and Dayna’s story, I’d be extremely grateful if you would take a moment to leave a short review on your retailer’s website.

  Lovels and huggles.

  Laura x

  I LAUGHED, I cried and I was downright miserable at times writing this book. As much as I write for the enjoyment of it, I push myself because of you, wonderful readers. In the hope I can make you feel an ounce of what the characters in my head are feeling. You make the difference between a day job and a passion, so thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for spending your precious time reading my words.