Bang Gang (13 page)

“Thanks,” I said to him. “For having the girls.”

“No bother at all,” he said.

I wanted him to say something,
anything
. Nice hair, or nice lippy, or
that colour really suits you
, but he said nothing, just stared.

It was Tonya who broke the tension, shrugged at Darren and gave a loud sigh. “Well?” she asked. “What do you think of Jodie’s epic new do?”

He swallowed before he answered and it made my tummy flutter. I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t bear it.

“It’s not new,” he said.

Tonya rolled her eyes. “Ok then, her new-
old
do. Do you like it?”

Ruby and Mia giggled and I half-wished the ground would swallow me.

“I
always
liked it,” he said, and the way he said always made me feel so weird, so exposed. “You look great, Jodie. Really great. You look amazing.”

He ran his fingers across his stubble, his mouth closed tight, as though he’d said too much. He shifted from foot to foot and cleared his throat.

“Thanks,” I said, and my eyes found his again. “I feel really great. Thanks for helping to make it happen.”

He nodded. “Right you are.”

“Don’t you want to see Jo’s sexy new outfits?” Tonya prompted, and it was too far, much too far. I cringed at the embarrassment in his eyes, the absolute discomfort, hovering in the half-light of our old life together, staring at the reincarnation of the girl he fell in love with when we were just kids.

I felt it, too.

He gestured a thumb towards the front door. “Better be off. Shit to do.”

Ruby groaned. “But Dad! You could stay! See Mum’s new stuff! She’ll look like a queen!”

“Your dad’s probably very busy,” I said.

“Work stuff,” he said. “Another time, Rubes.”

It broke my heart to see the deflation in her eyes.

“Go see your dad out,” I said, and he didn’t hang around a second longer. He raised a hand in goodbye to Tonya and gave me a nod, and then he was off, with the girls close behind him.

I listened to him call goodbye to Nanna, listened to the girl’s goodbyes afterwards, Ruby’s loud chatter and Mia’s quieter
please don’t go just yet, Dad
, and it hurt.

I don’t know why it hurt so fucking bad, but it felt like I’d been stabbed right in the pit of me.

I exhaled a loud breath when I heard the door click shut, and Tonya breathed one of her own.

She picked up the bottle of wine, poured us both another big one.

“I think you need this,” she said.

She wasn’t bloody wrong.

I could have been anywhere. It wouldn’t have mattered shit to me. Balls deep in some slutty bitch’s pussy in a posh hotel on the outskirts of Cheltenham, rutting away on her with other guy’s dicks all around me. It took me a second to remember her name.

Melissa.

Melissa with the hairy pussy.

I ran my thumb over it and she jerked, offered an appreciative grunt as she choked on Buck’s dick.

That’s when it first fucking hit me.

I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t give a shit about the cash waiting at the end of this shitty fucking romp.

Jimmy O shot me a glare and I realised I’d stopped thrusting, standing like a fucking moron with my dick still half inside her.

“Get up here,” I grunted, stepping aside to give him a turn. He shrugged and grinned, took up the spot with gusto, and Melissa didn’t give a shit, not really. She squirmed under him and groaned for more. Like they always do.

I took a step back and watched, strangely vacant, like I was watching a shitty porn film after too many beers.

This fucking craziness was all Tonya’s fault, dragging Jodie into her girly makeover crap and dragging me along with it. I felt a smile as I recalled Jodie’s happiness, the easy grin on her face before she realised I was watching her. I’d stepped into a time warp and right there on the other side was the girl I’d loved so fucking hard I thought it would kill me.

Only she wasn’t mine to love anymore.

Hadn’t been mine to love for a fucking long time.

I’d loved Jodie Symmonds when she was a slip of a girl with a dirty smile and a slick, sharp bob of dark-red hair. I’d loved Jodie Symmonds when she was so swollen with pregnancy that she could hardly walk, when her hair was greasy as fuck and she was moaning about under-boob sweat, pushing her fingers between her tits and smearing it under my nose as a demonstration. I’d loved her when she’d sat and eaten a whole bumper bucket of KFC
and then farted like a stinky bitch all night long
.
I’d loved her when she was angry, when she was sad, when she stared at me as though she was unsure whether to fuck me or kill me. Maybe both at the same time.

I’d loved Jodie Symmonds when she’d forgotten how to love herself.

I thought I’d loved her enough for both of us. But no.

Life fucking sucks like that.

I pulled on my jeans, resigned to sitting this one out. Hopefully Melissa wouldn’t notice with four other dicks to keep her attention.

My phone was in my back pocket, I pulled it out to check the time, only it was flashing with messages. I pressed Unlock.

The icon flashed with photo messages from Tonya, and my heart pumped as though I’d shot my load into Melissa’s hairy pussy after all.

I scrolled through them, screenshot after screenshot of sexy underwear. Lacy bras and knickers, a cute red suspender belt with matching stockings. A corset, and one of those flouncy white babydolls that make your balls tighten.

Jodie wouldn’t take the three hundred
, her message said.
I tried my fucking hardest, too. I ordered these instead for her, next day delivery.

My mouth was watering, fingers fucking shaking as I scrolled down to the final message.

Big grinning smileys, a load of them, all in a row.

You’re welcome
, the text said.

I always make
me time
plans during Darren’s weekends with the girls, but it rarely happens. Not with the unavoidable mega-clean that I’m obligated to perform to keep the house barely liveable. If there
is
any additional time, it’s usually spent making sure Nanna gets her weekly trip to the supermarket, and cramming in any extra hours on offer at the cafe. There’s always something that needs doing.

But this weekend started off quite differently.

I woke with a muggy head after a bit more wine than I’m accustomed to, then had the usual panic getting the girls ready to leave for their dad’s.
Socks? Check. Clean underwear? Check. No, Ruby, you can’t take the entire contents of your toy cupboard. You’re going for one night, Ruby. One night! Yes, I know Mia’s taking her phone, yes, I know that probably feels like the injustice of the century, but please, for the love of God, just put the monster trucks back in your bedroom! One. Alright, you can take one. ONE!

The rumble of Trent’s truck sounded outside at 9 a.m. sharp, and the girls piled outside before he was even out of the driver’s seat
. I waved them off with a happy smile, determined that this weekend would really be it, one for me. I had a playlist of YouTube makeup tutorials lined up, because seriously, makeup is a whole other level of skill than it was when I used to stick on eyeshadow with a bog-standard applicator and wear lippy without a lip liner. Heaven forbid.

Tonya told me so.

I’m learning.

When there was a knock on the door less than five minutes later, I figured one of the girls had forgotten something. My stomach did the dropping-from-a-great-height lurch as I swung it open, but it wasn’t Trent standing there, it was a courier. He held out one of those touch-screen dooberrys for my signature and under his arm was a massive parcel. Surely not?

I was about to say he was at the wrong address when I saw
Symmonds
and
2 Oak Crescent
bold as brass on the screen. I looked at the parcel in shock. It was taped up tight, Priority Next Day all over it.

“Sign please,” the driver said, and I realised I’d been gawping.

I scribbled something barely legible and took the bundle from him. Plain packaging, felt soft, like clothes.

Clothes.

Urgh, Tonya.

I called her up and she answered with a voice that made it clear she was still in bed.

“I’m here staring at a priority next day parcel that feels suspiciously like your doing. Am I right?” I asked.

She grunted and yawned a bit. “Might be…”

I couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re a very good very bad friend, you know that?”

She laughed. “Tell me how bad I am when you’ve opened it. The girls are away, right?”

“Right…”

“Then enjoy. Send me selfies. Later though, I was a-fucking-sleep before you called. You early risers piss me right off.”

“This?! This isn’t early, this
is mid-bloody-day for us parents.” I turned the parcel over in my hands, enjoying the rush of excitement that was replacing my muggy head. “I’ll send you selfies,” I said. “Thank you, honestly. I’m really touched.”

“Open it before you say that, and no, I’m not sending them back. No matter what.”