Trying Not to Love You - Part Fifty Three

Chapter Fifty Three

Behind the desk she had distance from him, and it gave Martha confidence as the office door opened. Sonny stood there, angry, hurt.

                “What are you talking about?”

She gave a breathy laugh, “you’re not a good enough actor to hide the truth Carter.”

He shook his head and she could tell he was trying to think of how to play this.

                “You were involved in Scott dying?”

His eyes snapped to hers, “NO.”

That caused her to shake her head, “tell me the truth. I deserve that much.”

                “There’s nothing to tell you Martha.”

                “I don’t believe you. Johnny was in this up to his neck, and I can’t believe that he was in it without you. Tell me.” When he said nothing she started to pace behind the desk, “or shall I tell you what’s been going through my head all night? All the time that I nursed my little boy to sleep, the little boy who already looks up to you as an idol.”

                “I never asked for that!” He spun around to stare at her, “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

                “Huh! But you’ve got it, haven’t you? I don’t believe a word you say. Gripper...who’d have thought he’d be the one to shine a light on all this? Not me, that’s for sure. But then he’s the key here, isn’t he?”

Sonny at least had the audacity to look embarrassed, but he remained silent.

                “That night, you caught him vandalising the farm, but who got away? Who was his partner in crime?” Again she was met with a stone walled silence. “Johnny. And this is where it starts making sense again.” She could feel tears at her eyes, pricking, the same emotion almost choked her, “you came to the house, took me to bed...with the blood of Scott Oldbury on your hands?”

Like a spark to dry kindling he exploded, “that’s what you think of me? Well, Miss Holier-than-thou must be right, cos she’s never bloody wrong. Are we done here or are we calling the police?”

Martha pulled her head up, “that’s it? That’s ALL you give me? I have spent the best part of an hour being interrogated by Scott’s father, the only man who can now threaten me and my son, and you can’t even be bothered to tell me the truth? Is that what we’re saying?” Martha was furious, she deserved SO much better.

                “You’ve already made up your mind.”

She shook her head, “I’ve not. I asked you, but you’ve chosen to say nothing, so now I’m adding up the evidence.”

                “I didn’t kill Scott.”

As much as she felt relief in the honesty, the earnest way he pleaded with her, she sensed the word ‘but’ approaching, and that scared her. “But you know something.”

Sonny felt as though he’d been backed into a corner, he didn’t want to tell Martha what had happened, she’d hate him, and that was worse than anything he could imagine. He hated himself for what had happened, he’d not known what he was walking into, some of it was innocence, but he knew it was always a set up, regardless. The fact that Scott was his brother...that made him feel sick. No matter the outcome they’d never have been friends, that much was true. But he still felt the waste at the loss.

He looked up and saw Martha stood there, pain and hurt on every inch of her body. And that was worse than anything else.  

                “Maybe.” He offered.

                “Are you going to tell me?”

He shrugged, moved away to the corner of the room, there was a bottle of vodka there, and he poured a glass needing something to get him through this.

                “What do you want to know?” He knew he sounded aggressive but wasn’t attack the best form of defence?

                “Hmm.” She put her finger on her lips and mock pondered. “Scott is dead, murdered, and you...you KNOW what happened. You say you didn’t kill him, but you KNOW.”

He shook his head, “I...” Glaring at her, he took a step back; he couldn’t incriminate Johnny or Marcus.

Striding up to him she took the glass from his hand and downed the alcohol with a shudder. “You obviously don’t want to talk to me. I thought I meant more. But then do I want to be involved in all this shit anyway?”

With a shake of the head, she made for the door.

Martha was struggling to cope, Sonny had meant so much to her, but now she realised she barely knew him. She had to get away, preserve what little of her self-respect she had left.

                “It’s not what you think.”

Slowly she turned to the voice, her hand on the doorknob, “what DO I think? You tell me nothing.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes, “the less you know the better Martha.”

                “I’ll be the judge of that.” When he looked at her strangely she laughed, “I’m the person who kept a son a secret for five years, so I know secrets Sonny.”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes and groaned, “he was dabbling in things that were way outside his comfort zone. He got the attention of the wrong people.”

That caused her to stop, “but killing him?”

                “He’d been involved in killing someone else...you knew what he was capable.” When she nodded he sighed, “the man you saw him beating up? Remember that? Well Oldbury, he killed the nephew of a Mr Big.”

                “So they kill him tit for tat? Where do you fit into this? Where does the man I love fit into a murder story?”

Sonny groaned, he had one option, to tell the truth, it was likely he might lose her anyway, so he had nothing to gamble with, “Oldbury was behind me going to prison.” He didn’t know why, Sonny’s own thoughts had him thinking that maybe he’d worked out that they shared a father. Jealousy would see him get put out of the picture? That was Oldbury’s level. “When I was inside I met someone who promised me information, looked after me, got me back on my feet when I came out this man...I worked for him. I’ve tried to free myself of the bad life, but when you’ve no plan B it has a habit of sucking you back in. Coming here was part of that plan.” He rolled his eyes, “I was sent here to monitor Oldbury. Keep tabs on what he was doing. That was my job.”

She wasn’t convinced, he could tell, “I was good at what I did Martha, mainly criminal activities, but when you don’t care if you live or die, then you can get EXACTLY what you want, and until a few months ago, that was how my life rolled. It’s different now, I want to live, I want to be good, and right, but that world doesn’t let you move on easily.”

                “So you HAD to be involved?” Her voice was mocking.

Running a hand over his eyes he groaned with frustration, “life it’s always simple Martha. I wanted out, for you, for your family, hell for me. But I wasn’t able to leave, this was my exit. My swansong.”

                “You set him up?”

He nodded, “I had to get him to a liaison point, I was told he was being set up for time inside, I swear. It was only when we got there that I realised things were different.”

                “He’s dead though, because of what you did.”

He nodded, “pretty much. Though if they wanted him dead it was only a matter of time.” He rubbed his eyes, “I get that you probably hate me.”

                “I feel like I don’t know you. All these lies were going on whilst you were making me fall in love with you. I feel like I don’t know the real Sonny Carter.” She averted her eyes, not wanting him to see her cry, “I hate that you did this, I hate that you HAD to, and I hate what it’ll do to you. But I don’t hate you. I love you.”

His hands came to each of her upper arms, his body warm behind her, “I never wanted to hurt you.”

She sighed, “but you do. Every day. This will never be over; it’ll always sit there between us, won’t it?”

Turning her he forced her chin up, made her look at him, “it won’t go away, it can’t, it’s happened, but we can get past it, can’t we? Can you forgive me?”

                “I don’t know Carter. It’s so final, so against everything I believe. I mean I hated Scott, more than ANY one, but I’d never have seen him killed for my benefit. I hate that he’s dead.”

Sonny groaned, “but if he was here you’d still be hidden away, Ethan would be a secret.”

                “SO I should thank you? Why don’t you give me the telephone number of this ‘boss’ and I’ll phone and thank him too?”

                “Martha...”

She shook her head passionately, “NO, don’t. Does it make it easier to sleep thinking that you did this for me? Am I the guilt absorber in all this? Bloody hell Carter, he was Ethan’s father!”

                “And he was NEVER going to know about him, if it was left to you.”

She looked at him strangely for a moment, “what do you mean?”

Sonny beat a hasty retreat, backing off across the room, “nothing, just that he was never going to be Ethan’s dad, was he?”

Martha was nothing if not intuitive, shaking her head she marched up to him, “what did you do? Did you tell him?”

Looking up to the ceiling he avoided her eyes, until she punched him in the arm, “don’t ignore me, don’t you dare. Tell me what you did. NOW!”

He felt like a naughty schoolboy, “ok. I was dragged up to see him, before they took him off into the distance; he wanted to witness a confrontation between us I think. He was enjoying it.” Sonny wasn’t about to reveal that they were siblings, that Marcus must have got off on that. “As I walked away he shouted out that you liked things rough, that you wanted what happened.” He closed his eyes, “so I replied that he’d never meet the product of that night, like I had. He was screaming as they led him off.”

                “You tortured him, at that final moment?” She was disgusted.

                “I still didn’t know if they’d kill him, they may have beaten him up...”

Leaning towards him her lips curled into a snarl, “and if he hadn’t died? He’d be here looking for Ethan, bloody hell you are a selfish bastard. Every time I think I understand, more of this bullshit comes out. What is wrong with you?”

                “I have never professed to be good at relationships; I don’t know how to be a boyfriend, a friend or anything else. I’ve only ever looked out for me, that’s been my MO since I was old enough, and I’m finding it hard not to think that way. It’s ok for you, with your loving family, a place you call home, a life, a community. Everywhere I’ve ever been I’ve been a nuisance, or an irritant. The only people who needed me were these men, and yes I’ve done bad things, but you KNEW that I was like that. So don’t make out that I’ve lied to you about who I am and what I’ve done.”

For the first time in a long time Martha felt she saw inside him, saw that vulnerable part of him that made her feel protective, motherly...he needed her, and only she could replace what those men were to her. Suddenly everything made sense, him spoiling for fights, sleeping around, he was constantly searching for a purpose, constantly trying to be normal, but he didn’t know how.

He was at the door, about to leave when she called out his name.

                “Sonny.”

He turned slowly staring at her, tears in his eyes, and she’d never seen a more tragic sight.

                “Come here.”

She opened her arms and he came towards her, resting his head on her shoulder, letting her arms engulf him, letting her take the responsibility, the stress, the work for him, for a split second.

                “What are you going to tell his father?” he asked into her neck.

She sighed, Michael was a worry. “That you knew Johnny loosely, and that Scott left him high and dry on that night, that Scott did his own thing. It was nothing to do with you or your friend.”

He lifted his head and looked at her, “you’d do that? For me?”

She nodded, “I’ll lie for you, because I love you, but it’s the last time, you hear me?”