Page 50 of The Man Upstairs

“Even more reason to stay in here, then.” She yawned with a grin, the sweetness in her shining. “Please, Julian. I like it, having you close. Plus, you won’t have to sleep on the sofa. Double win.”

It was tempting. I’d love nothing more than to hold her tight. Could I trust my resolve, though? Really?

She shuffled on her feet, like she was awaiting a verdict, and there was no doubt that I’d have to give it a try.

“Yes, I’ll sleep in here with you,” I said.

She looked as though I’d bestowed an honour. Crazy, how little a girl of her character and beauty had come to expect from life.

Grinning like a kid on Christmas Day morning, she whipped my shirt off over her head and dropped it on the floor. “Which side do you sleep on?” she asked, hands on her tiny hips.

I stared at her naked beauty but only for moments before I grabbed up the shirt and flung it at her.

“The shirt stays on,” I said despite my raging hard-on.

She rolled her eyes, made a show of wriggling slowly back into the shirt.

“I’m easy,” I said, “you choose,” and indicated to the bed.

She climbed into bed, watching me as I loosened my tie.

Of course… she hadn’t seen me naked.

She didn’t take her glasses off as she got settled under the covers. Her eyes were all on me as I stripped off my shirt, socks and trousers. I was positive she could see my swollen cock in my boxers, but I slid into bed beside her and pulled the covers up high, trying to play it down.

She handed me her glasses before I got the light. I put them gently on the bedside table as she sighed and curled up against my side.

It was the most natural thing to hold her close and plant a kiss on her head once I’d turned the light off.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” I said in the darkness.

“Night,” she said back. “I don’t want to be your sweetheart, though. I want to be the girl in the photos.”

I didn’t respond to that, just kept her in my arms.

The curtains were aglow with both the orange of streetlamps and the white of the moon as her breaths deepened. I waited, staring up at the ceiling as she fell into the depths of sleep, glad she was finding some solace in this place.

There was no way I’d be sleeping tonight, though.

As Rosie calmed, my own senses heightened. I was worth nothing in comparison to her being worth everything. She was a pure lightness against my pitch-dark filth, and there was no way I wanted to bring her down with me into my seedy rabbit hole. I wanted to set her free and up high, without being shackled in hell with the idiot her mother was at the mercy of, and I’d do it. No matter the consequences.

When the sweet little angel was all the way into dreamland, I was able to slide away without waking her up. I stood and watched her sleeping awhile, the glow from the window lighting her up like a masterpiece.

I knew what I needed to do.

It was gone four a.m. when I left the bedroom, picking up my clothes from the floor on the way. I eased the door closed behind me, being careful not to make a sound as I got myself dressed in the bathroom. My eyes were hollow and cold as I stared at myself in the mirror, and they needed to be, because I was determined to go through with saving Rosie, whatever the cost.

I took three swigs of whisky from the bottle while I had another cigarette in the living room.

I was going to do this. I was going to set Rosie free from the idiot downstairs.

Crenham Drive was still dark outside as five a.m. approached. I felt like an alien, deranged version of my previous self as I slid open my kitchen drawer. I was more insane than I’d ever been, but I felt surprisingly calm alongside it. A pair of opposites in myself, magnetised.

I was extremely careful as I made my way downstairs to the alcove by the main entrance door. I ensured I was concealed in darkness, hidden from the puny flickering overhead light by the time I heard thumping footsteps sounding on the stairs.

I knew who they belonged to.

My efforts at camouflage had been worthwhile. The cunt known as Scottie had no idea I was lurking in the shadows when he passed me by. The rage was rife in my limbs as I slammed up against him from behind and shunted him into the alcove, spinning him to face me. I slapped my hand straight over his mouth, picturing the vile piece of shit up close to Rosie.