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AJs P.O.V
I'm filthy. The sordid plans have been made. And I stand, in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom; the bedroom I share with my soulmate, the bedroom where our new child is going to sleep in its cot, and I'm staring piteously at my falsified reflection, trying to find just one aspect of it I can appreciate. But there's nothing. How can there be when every powdered coat upon my face is there to conceal a whore.
Phil, my darlin' Phillip lived in a fear he could never be more than a killer. And yet, he is my world, the father of the child I so desperately want to see him hold and adore. That's why I'm doing this. My knees are weak and I just want to collapse in the warmth, the safety of our bed and cry til I lose consciousness. But I can't. This is why I'm knowingly tainting the perfection of being his wife.
My tears are falling faster than I can even attempt to apply my makeup, great black rivers staining my caked face. And I'm praying for the forgiveness of those at all sides.
"You'll forgive Mommy won't you baby?" I whisper desperately to my stomach. "She's doing this for you and your brother and sisters. You and your daddy, you deserve each other. I can't let anyone take him away from us."
And that is the sole reason my legs have not yet given way beneath me. Because I'd do anything to protect my love. Even this.
I'm heading for Scarlet. And it's there that Jack wants us to- Oh, I know he hates me, really hates me, but at least this... atrocity isn't going to survive in anyone's bed. I was so afraid he'd demand to come here because he knows that, for Phils sake... he'd have left me with no choice. I'd have had to agree. My bed, my beautiful bed, holding safe the memories of all the times Phil and I have made love together. There, each and every time was meaning. But this... this is hollow. It means nothing but the chance for this baby and our childre to one day ask Daddy for a cuddle and know they will never be refused. That's everything to me.
But still, I just can't keep the nausea down. This time, it's not an ill-feeling. It's too intense to remain so concealed. It is an actual physical state and I find myself hurtling to the bathroom, throwing myself down against the bowl of the toilet and being violently sick.
And I haven't even left the house yet.
I'm almost sent reeling once again as there comes an anxious rapping on the door. I'm frightened, even by such a timid sound.
"April? Honey, are you ok?"
Oh God. I thought he was still immersed in the baseball, he wasn't supposed to hear me, not like this...
Sluggishly, I pull myself up, leaning heavily against the sink as I pull back the door of the medicine cabinet and begin to reapply my faithful mask of make-up, somehow hiding every treacherous tear with a shaky hand.
"April!"
"I'm fine, it's fine..." I insist, my voice a little too high and forced to be convincing, but then I am slightly preoccupied with scubbing at my teeth and tongue with my toothbrush, hoping to remove some of the vile taste with the minty froth. But as I spit it down the sink... it's scarlet. My gums are bleeding.
I give my needy mouth one last swill, my stomach simultaneously tight with guilt and nerves as I am well aware Phil hasn't moved an inch from the other side of the bathroom door.
"See?" I say, smiling bravely as I'm drawn into his beautiful eyes, shimmering with the kind of concern only a lover could know. "I'm fine."
"You... You sounded like you were being sick..."
"Well, I am pregnant Phillip." I tell him simply, hating that my tone makes him out to be an idiot when he's anything but. Oh God, if he knew the real reason... no. No, he never will.
"Yeah, I know..." he murmurs gently, splaying my fingers and caressing my wedding ring affectionately before locking our hands together. "...but maybe you should call Kaitlyn? Cry off... let me look after you for once..."
Oh, the idea is so... tender and perfect, I want to throw my arms around him and beg him never to let me go, or give up loving me like he does right at this moment. But I can't. Because if I dare, he won't be here for me to beg at all. And I just cannot risk that. I need and love him way too much.
"No. No, I'll be fine, honestly."
Phil bows his head, gazing down at my stomach as he presses his hand gently into it. "I just about trust Kailtyn. Just make sure they take care of you both yeah? Because you, the kids and this one in here... are the most important things in the world to me..."
"So what about the baseball?"
"Agh-" he winces, the smallest of smiles taking his lips as he presses them momentarily to mine (and God, he tastes so sweet. I just don't deserve it. I don't deserve any of it!) ", we're not going anywhere, whereas us-"
"I love you baby." I blurt suddenly.
"Where did that come from?"
"I just... needed you to know it, that's all."
"Yeah?" he questions softly, kissing me again. "So you want to know something too?"
"Mmmm..."
"You look fuckin' beautiful."
No! He's complementing the mask of a traitor, the costume of a whore. Why can't he see the truth? Why does he have to crucify me like this in his innocence?
"No I don't..."
"Yes, you do. Now shut up, because you're out-numbered. Our son has spoken-" And he pointedly presses a little harder into my stomach as he guides me towards the door.
"Daughter..."
"Son!"
"Daughter!"
"Go already!" Phil chuckles, leaning against the door, adorning with one last soul-destroying kiss. It's never going to feel the same again, I just know it. "Have fun sweetheart..."
Fun. Oh if only. Stumbling into Scarlet, the wind is stabbing at me like a million deserving little knives. And to walk into the club, looking round and seeing everything. I'm suffocating. My chest is caving in, I can't breathe and I want to turn around and run home. But I keep moving down into the cramped and smoky bar because I know, if I run now, I'm never going to have a home again.
"April!"
Hearing Jack call me so brightly from one end of the bar, where he's... serving- oh God, he's been waiting for me - I bite deep into my lip, feeling the taste of blood rise in my mouth. Despite the stifling temperature in here, a chill rockets down my spine and I instinctively pull my jacket tighter around myself, wanting to hide myself from this sordid suggestion, to just pretend it'll go away.
"Come on through!" he calls, jerking his thumb towards the door that opens out on the corridor to the office. I bolt down there before he has even left the bar, without really knowing why, perhaps I want this all to just be over. The sooner it's done, the sooner I can begin to kid myself I've forgotten about it and refocus my attentions on my precious family.
I almost fall off balance as the door clicks shut behind me. There's Jack, stood tall and looking so repulsive and smug, I could hit him.
"Drink?"
I scowl.
"Oh sorry... I forgot. Baby. Everything alright there?"
"Don't you dare talk about my baby. Don't even think about it. We both know that's not what I'm here for."
His smirk flickers proudly. "No, of course it's not. But I have to say April, I really didn't expect you to show. I thought you might want to see out the rest of your days with Phillip with a little bit of... dignity!"
"Shut up!" I scream. "You know damn well if I hadn't agreed to this then Phil would already be dead. Your fucking monkeys would have killed him last night! So let's just get this over with, c'mon!"
His lips straighten and he shrugs nonchalantly, mumbling; "What the lady wants-"
"I don't want any of this! All I want is to keep my family together. So you can have my last shreds of dignity Jack, you can get yourself a cheap thrill, but you will never touch my family!"
But that doesn't mean he won't touch me. Because we both know he has to. His rough hands feel like a disease against my skin. He shoves me hard against the wall, but I hold in my whimper of pain. He'll never hear it, I'll never let him feed me off like this. I hear him wrench at his fly and turn my head away in disgust. It's like... hearing someone loading the barrel of a gun, just to know they're going to raise to my head. But even that... it's a better fate than this.
It's agonising as he enters me. I don't want this. I want to go home. But it's too late. I'm that whore now, with this animal's rancid breath warming my neck as burning tears gush from my sorry eyes. And in my shattered mind; I'm repeating the same vows, the same promises, over and over, just waiting for it all to be done.
I'm so sorry.
Forgive me.
I love you.
I'll never stop loving you.
Punks P.O.V
Oh God, that was painful. Never, ever have the Cubs played that bad in their whole existence. What the hell was wrong with the bastards? A game like that would drive you to alcohol, and seeing as though that isn't an option for me I might just have to punch the wall and then burst into tears. Except, as I look at the clock, I realise April's been gone a little over an hour, and I seriously miss her. I wish she hadn't gone. I'm pretty sure we could have had ourselves a better time. I'm cruel, I know, but I can't help but hope she'll get bored and come home to me - after all, it's no fun being the only sober one when everyone around you gets rat-arsed.
Sighing, I go and grab a can of Pepsi from the fridge and sink in defeat back against the sofa. But I don't even like the taste of the pure liquid against my tongue anymore - I'm just too damn gutted.
Relief floods through me as my phone burst into life on the arm-rest. I don't give much thought to the idea that it might be Candice calling because I need too much for it to be April.
Except, as I lift it up to look at the display, I don't recognise the number. I figure I may as well answer anyway, it's not like I have anything better to do and I might have fun hurling abuse at some double-glazing salesman working over-time. Where do those kind of people find your number anyway?
"Yep?"
"Uh... Phillip?"
At least, I think that's what she says. It's manic, all I can hear above the tone of whoever this woman is; because I'm pretty sure I don't recognise her is... God knows what. It sounds like she's in the middle of a rave or something - music pounding, people laughing and demanding drinks. For a moment, my stomach lurches in fear and I'm being tormented by images of April, passed out or in agony in the middle of some club. She promised me she'd take it easy! Oh God, what if she's in hospital? I pull myself up in a panic, ready to race wherever I have to make sure she and the baby are OK. If anything's happened to either of them, I will never...
"What is it?"
"Look, sorry to disturb you-" she yells down the line, apparantly having no other way to make herself heard over her background noise. "-it's Amy."
Who?
"I work in Scarlet, and well... Your wife April..isn't it? She's had a small accident here and she's asking for you."
God, I knew I shouldn't have let April go out to that stupid club. Panic rises inside me and my chest constricts painfully. I jump up in a flash ingnoring the dizzy spell as I get to my feet. Charging around the living room, looking for the essesntials. Where are my fuckin' car keys?
"Is she alright? FUCK!" I say, desperation in my voice. "Is April alright?"
"Phil calm down, April is fine, just a little trip. We have her sat in the back office. She's asking for you to come collect her."
"Tell her I'll be there ASAP, ok?"
And I hang up, trying to tell myself that everything's going to be ok. It was just a trip. She was concious and asking for me. That was a good sign.
I walk straight out the door, pulling my keys out of my pocket as I go to the car. I stand stock-still for a moment as I try to calm myself down. I defiantely did not want to get into a car wreck. Looking around. I used to hate this place, for all the pain it caused us, again and again and then, the way everyone, everything seemed so desperate to keep April and me apart. And now, I can stand here, savouring the look of the place, the dirtied breeze upon my face. Because, for the first time in my life, it's all ok. I'm finally someone. Just like everyone else - a normal guy.
I walk steadily over to the club. I don't appreciate the look of it so much. The new owner had no taste what so ever. I bound down the stairs and catch sight of who must be Amy, a whole crowd's worth of orders going right over her head she is so flustered as she tries to keep up. I push my way through, ignoring every single dirty look that comes my way.
"Amy!" I call loudly.
She looks as though she flinches in fright, but then she looks up, sees me and smiles gratefully. "Phil, thank God!" And she happily steps out the way so I can get to my wife. The crowd reluctantly disperses as I straighten up with it. But they don't give up yelling orders at the poor cow.
"Five minutes!" I yell to them, intentionally bashing the loudest and rudest of the bastards as I make my way past. He doesn't look too happy about it, but I think he knows he doesn't want me getting in his face.
I move down towards the office, Amy leading the way.
"Great. Thanks." I turn away, but a thought strikes me and I go back, questioning; "The boss at home?"
She shrugs. "Not as far as I know. He said he had business to take care of, but- I only clocked on a minute ago, I haven't checked. No, because that bloody Vinny just pisses off shift without changing the bloody barrel!"
I leave her to it. I know what women get like when they're off on a rant. So I go down to the office. There's no-one stood outside playing at being his Rotweiller, so I guess it's situation vacant. Shame really.
I push cautiously down on the door handle. The door opens and I just go straight in.
I wish I hadn't. Because there's no way to comprehend the sight that greets me. All at once, there's so many emotions... I can feel nothing. All I know is that the "boss" has definitely finished his "business" for tonight. Because he's not even interested, irritated by my presence. He's too busy doing up his fly.
And April's too busy pushing down her skirt...
The bulk of the man turns to me, smirking that oh so familiar smirk. The one I see everyday in the mirror.
"Jack?" My eyes widen in horror.
"What the fuck is going on?"