Page 15 of Savage

“No,” I replied in a small voice.

“Dominic’s asking for you, but I asked him to hold off. Unless you want me to let him up?”

The thought of facing my boyfriend right then was like a death sentence. “No, please Chris. Could you say I’m not feeling well and that I’ll call him tomorrow?”

There were a few beats before he replied, “Yeah, sure. Do you want some water or something?”

“No, thank you. Just please. Keep Jaxon out of my hair.”

“I won’t need to do that, he just left. And fuck me he was pissed.”

As he divulged those words, an engine started which forced me to stand and go over to my window. It was Jaxon’s Range Rover. I could see he was in the driving seat, Lexi Grafton sitting in the passenger seat, looking like the cat that got the cream. Hadn’t he been drinking?

The engine revved angrily and then the vehicle set off down the driveway shooting pebbles everywhere. So, he was going home with Lexi after the way he had just kissed me? The guy had no moral compass.

I went back over to my bed and collapsed, rolling into a ball.

Something had happened to me during that kiss and there was no recovering from it.

How could I feel such a strong connection with someone I so thoroughly disliked and who appeared to hate me back?

Things couldn’t have been more wrong. I needed to shelve that sexual curiosity that appeared to be getting gradually stronger each day.

For my mental well-being as well as my sanity, I had to stay away from Jaxon Savage.

Three

Dominic and I spoke the next day on the phone. He was pissed off about the kiss, saying how it was fucked up, Jaxon being my stepbrother. I had to remind him that he had obviously enjoyed showing Lexi his dick and he made a snide comment saying how there was at least someone alive who wanted to see it. I shrugged that comment off, knowing he was jealous and I couldn’t blame him. Both Jaxon and I had gotten carried away and in front of loads of people.

Dominic and I went to the cinema together that day and eventually made up.

A few days later, I met with Jessica for coffee to discuss my article. She had previously given me some suggested changes which I had made. I immediately sensed it was a calm before the storm scenario and she was setting me up for a fall.

Over our drinks and cake, she explained that as the Proctor case was so high profile, the editor had put a senior journalist on the story, someone with more experience.

I felt instantly bummed off as you can imagine. I had worked so hard on that story and I didn’t have anything else to submit.

Thankfully, I was given another option. Jessica said that over the following month, the editor intended to run several articles about mental health. The thinking behind the theme was to help raise awareness of why people emotionally struggle within certain work sectors. The specific areas they would target were the farming industry, the military, and the police force.

Jessica knew my stepfather well and that he had a military background, so she suggested I focus on writing a piece on mental health in the army. If Jaxon was anything to go by; fucking nuts would sum that one up.

I felt deflated that my piece on arson had been dropped, but I knew I needed to get used to it. Journalism was dog eat dog, it was very competitive and you had to learn how to deal with disappointment. I decided my next piece would blow her away.

As we finished our coffee, she explained that she couldn’t guarantee anything I wrote would make it to print, but that it was a good experience for me anyway. I felt a bit patronised but what could I do, I was only just starting out. Jessica also promised that if my submission did make it into the paper, they would pay me cash per word printed. The thought of being paid for something I had written spurned me on.

As I sat on the bus, I pulled out my notebook and drafted down a few key areas to explore about mental health issues in the army.

As I googled on my phone, I could see problems were rife and there had been several soldiers over the last few years who had committed suicide. Most of them appeared to have occurred after the soldier had left the army. I suppose it would be easy to become institutionalised in the military. One female soldier had written a piece about how she had struggled to readjust to normal life.

After reading a couple more articles, I pressed the bell for my stop and walked the rest of the way to my house.

The large electric gates were open and I could see Marcus’s Tesla in his parking space. Jaxon’s car was also there but there was no sign of my mother’s Porche. A wedding gift from Marcus. Chris had a license and owned a car but preferred the bus.

It was only around six but it was a dull day and the evening air was humid. Luckily, I was home in time for dinner which was being served at seven sharp. My mother had texted to say that we were eating together as a family that night and I wondered why. Being ex-military, Marcus did not appreciate tardiness. I wondered briefly where my mother was.

As I stepped into the lobby area, I hung my bag and coat on one of the pegs by the door and then withdrew my phone. I checked for possible messages from Daisy but had none. Dominic and I had spoken on the phone a couple of times over the last few days, but neither of us had brought up the incident by the pool again. He was away with work and I was due to see him at the weekend.

Missing you sexy x, he had texted. I replied with a kissing emoji, saying I’d call him later.

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