Flower in the Flame (The Scattered Series - Book #1)

Chapter Nine

9 | Nadia Spencer

The ticking of the clock is soothing. Silence. Tick. More silence. Another tick. I've noticed it only ticks 57 times before the large hand shifts – it's a few seconds too fast. I think it's nearly 1 in the afternoon.

What I feel is not so dissimilar to guilt. I cannot be sad, for I fear this was my fault and so I have no reason to be sad. I did not ask for him to touch me, nor did I encourage it, but maybe because he saw me swimming with Benjamin he felt he had to claim me. If I'd stayed from the water, wore a swimming costume that covered more of me, if I hadn't told him I was sick of this, then maybe he wouldn't have felt the need to do that.

I'm sure Billie Joe broke his nose yesterday, which only encourages my guilt – like mentos dropped into coke.

But I'm okay, I think. This will all go away, the best I can do is ignore it. I'm Nadia fucking Spencer, it will take a lot more than that to drag me down. If only I can summon the energy to get up.

It only takes 15 minutes of staring at the ceiling for me to finally get out of bed, and I step out the room slowly. The house is quiet again, there was no chaos this morning so I can assume Carter was gone. Rubbing my eyes, I head downstairs.

Of course, Billie is sat at the table with a glass of brandy. He looks up when he sees me and offers a smile. "Good afternoon." He says. I'm unsure he knows what to do, but I hope he'll treat me as he has been. I don't want to be treated like something that might break when really I'm fine.

Sitting down beside him, I look around. "Where's Madeline?" My voice sounds horrific, raw and scratchy, like I've been smoking since I was 4 years old.

"She's gone to speak to Carter."

I can feel my heart drop. "Why?"

He sighs, bringing his glass to his lips and taking a long sip. "She wants to know his side of the story."

"So she doesn't believe me?"

He props his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands, watching me. "Nadia," He always makes use of my name, like it's his own to treasure and summon to his tongue whenever he desires. "Madeline is a strange woman with an obsession with our son that pisses me off to no end. He could stab her in the gut and her idea that he is an angel still wouldn't relent."

I've never heard him speak of Madeline in this way before, but it takes my mind from last night.

"Why?" I ask as I watch him tip back the dregs of his drink into his mouth, throat rolling as he swallows the alcohol. Lifting his glass, I go to pour him another. He shrugs, "hell if I know. My wife is crazy."

I force a smile, "But guys like crazy, right?"

"Not that kind of crazy."

He watches with patient eyes as I fill his glass. Never is he anything but gentle with me, with the way he looks or moves or touches. It's daunting and so different to Carter and I shouldn't be comparing him to my lover but hell I can't help it.

"She has another lover."

That stuns me – I don't know where the hell that came from or why he told me that. I drop the glass as I'm handing it to him and it shatters on the floor. Shit. I feel frozen in place as Billie practically throws himself on the floor in a poor effort to save the glass. He only hurts himself. Blood is spilling from his hand and he's swearing repeatedly. 

"Why the hell did you do that?" Is my first response. 

He almost looks sheepish as he plucks a wedge of thick glass from the palm of his hand. More blood spills, down his arm, snaking around the inked patterns which I haven't had chance to depict. "Well, I obviously didn't do it on purpose, did I?" His words are harsh, but they don't sound severe when he speaks them.