On the Edge (The Grange Complex Book 1)

Chapter 27

Sasha

The day I drove away from the complex, I found myself howling in misery. I kept telling myself that I

wasn’t crying over Dexter, but over that gorgeous, stunning apartment. It finally had been sold and I

was never going to get that kind of opportunity ever again. My life in the Grange was over.

After I got on the road to the city, it finally hit me. I had fallen in love with Dexter Tyndall, a man that had

screwed enough women to fill the whole of Edinburgh, most of the coast, and probably halfway to

England. He had bipolar and many problems, but he loved his uncomplicated lifestyle. He could sleep

with any woman he chose and the fact that he might have to care about anyone else’s feelings never

entered his head. He made the choice to be this person and he wasn’t going to change.

After my drama with Kirk, I promised myself that I would never ever fall in love again. The timing

couldn’t have been any worse. I had gone through that terrible breakup, I had experienced so much

sorrow and beatings and abuse. I was too old for this crap. Dexter wasn’t my Prince Charming. He was

the Prince of Darkness. We all had issues. It was probably straight after his father’s death when he

began slipping away from reality, self-medicating and using alcohol to make himself feel better, but I

had an ugly past too. He wasn’t the only one who’d been suffering.

That was a few days ago. Now I was coping again, living my own better life.

“Hello, Earth to Sasha, are you even with me?” Gina asked. We had arranged to meet up for a drink

and she wanted to see my new place. We were discussing the upcoming pole competition in London.

Gina had taken part in it years ago and she offered to train me for it. I jumped at this opportunity

straight away.

I shook my head and smiled, knowing that yet again I was driving myself crackers with thoughts about

Dexter. I left a few days ago while he was busy with his “fiancee.” Correction. I ran away to avoid the

confrontation. That part of my life was over and he was wrong. Our business was finished, even though

I bloody loved him, but that was a small and unimportant detail.

“Sorry, what were we talking about?” I asked.

Gina took a sip of her wine and peered at me. Her crazy red hair seemed to have a mind of its own

today. She looked like her head was on fire.

“Come on, spill it: what’s his name and what did he do to you?” she asked. I learned that Gina was very

intelligent. She had a master’s in psychology and some other qualifications, but her own life was a

mystery.

“Oh, it’s no one. Don’t worry about it. No one worth talking about,” I said, brushing it off.

“You’re competing in about two week’s time, darling, and if you aren’t focused enough, this won’t work.

Tell me—who is this guy and what’s he done to you?”

“His name is Dexter and he won’t ruin this for me this time around. I’ll be all right,” I stated with

determination.

Gina didn’t usually discuss men and their problems with me. She thought that it was the biggest waste

of time. As far as I knew, she was single and too busy with work to even consider being tied down. I

had been going to pole-dancing training often, at least four times a week, practising whatever new

routine that Gina had given me. Tonight we were discussing my plan for the competition. Most of the

time I was listening, but it was impossible for me not to think about Dexter.

“Have lots of sex before the competition. That should solve the problem straight away,” she said,

winking at me.

My heart was shattered, but I had a new flat in the city, new friends, and everything was slowly moving Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

in the right direction. I needed to look at the bright side.

A week ago, I had applied for a permanent job in the hospital and I was hoping to get an interview. I

needed a full-time position and I wanted a normal social life again. These were just small steps. I made

the decision that I was going to live my life the way I wanted, not like I used to.

Gina picked up a gossip magazine from her bag and started turning the pages. The wine was slowly

going to my head, and I thought that for a moment I spotted Dexter’s face on some of the pages.

“Sorry, can I have a look at this for a second?” I asked, pointing at the magazine. Gina nodded and

handed it to me. I started turning the pages frantically until I found what I was looking for. There it was:

Dexter Tyndall with Victoria Cross at some kind of charity banquet. My jaw dropped and I stared at his

face for several seconds in disbelief. The bitch looked stunning wearing a white low-cut dress, posing

with Dex outside the building. Dexter was in his tuxedo, looking gorgeous. He wasn’t smiling, just

staring blankly at the camera. I read the note underneath.

Victoria Cross and her partner fundraising money for starving children in Africa.

She must have blackmailed him into doing that. Dexter wouldn’t just agree, but then he wasn’t ill

anymore, so maybe he had gone back to his usual self. I felt guilty that I escaped without discussing

anything, without even a goodbye. Victoria was a leech and he had to do what she said. I couldn’t

really get involved. His illness and his overactive libido brought him into that mess.

“What’s wrong? Who is he?” Gina asked, snapping the paper away from me. I ran my hand through my

hair, breathing harder than I should.

“That’s the guy that I’ve been trying to forget,” I said.

“Dexter Tyndall. Holy moly, he’s hot and looks like a real asshole. Care to tell me what happened

between you two?”

“It’s a long story. We had the most amazing sex. It was my fault, though. I thought that I was ready for a

no-strings-attached relationship, but I was wrong.”

“Wrong? What, were you stupid enough to fall for that prick?”

“Something like that, but he’s in the past now. We are done and we don’t have to see each other ever

again.”

“Rubbish, you’re still badly hung up on him. I’m going to set you up with someone.”

I was trying to pretend that I was fine, but deep down I was raging. Dexter and Victoria. I wasn’t

supposed to care about them.

“What for, a date?” I asked, ready to get that thought out of her head.

She patted me on the shoulder and took the magazine away from me. It was strange, but after

spending so much time together we had grown unexpectedly close.

“I think so. You need one night with a hot random stranger to forget about this Scottish sex god

forever.”

“No. I’m done with casual sex and I was supposed to be done with men as well.”

“A date is what you need. Let me see what I can do.” Gina giggled and I rolled my eyes, knowing that

she couldn’t be serious.

Dexter

I was standing in the shower, trying to wash away the memories from the party that Victoria forced me

to attend. It was a hell of a night and I chose not to touch any buzz during the party. I could drink, but

as that asshole Bishop said, alcohol and antidepressants were a lethal combination.

The water was streaming down my body while I massaged my shaft, trying to make it work again. I

hadn’t had sex since I was locked up in the psychiatric ward. The party didn’t go well and Harry still

hadn’t come back to me about Victoria.

I thought about last night, how I dutifully put my tuxedo on and an hour later Victoria picked me up

outside the complex. She was chatting to me like everything was fine, like she wasn’t blackmailing me.

She hadn’t brought up that stuff with Jenny. Bitch was sweet as candy, trying to act like things between

us weren’t fucked up.

I was out of buzz and on the meds, but I was raging inside that I was so fucked up by some chick who

had more money than sense. I wanted to track down that girl from the party myself to check if she was

really fifteen. Victoria could have made this whole shit up. I couldn’t let her beat me at my own game.

The truth was that I brought this on myself. I should have stayed sober that night.

The charity banquet was held in one of the hotels in Edinburgh. Once we were inside, Victoria started

introducing me to all the celebrities in the room. I didn’t give a fuck. I was ready to get out of there, but

she glued herself to my arm and didn’t let go.

We were posing for photos, chatting with her wooden friends as she splashed her cash to help poor

African kids. Most of the night I was trying not to explode. Victoria kept saying that I was her date when

all I thought about was Sasha. My Barbie was in my head all the time: the way she laughed and teased

me, the way she smiled and that naughty twinkle that appeared in her eyes. She was gone from my life

because I had managed to drive her away with my stupid mouth.

“Dexter, let me introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Rogers and their daughter Jenny,” Victoria said, nudging

me for the tenth time. I lifted my eyes and looked at the couple in their late forties. When my eyes

darted at the girl I realised that I wasn’t dreaming. Jenny Rogers, the fifteen-year-old girl that I had

fucked during the party was standing in front of me. Blood rushed to my ears when her father shook my

hand.

“Hi,” I muttered. Jenny smiled, blushing. My stomach revolted and I thought that I was going to lose it.

Victoria had crossed the line.

“Mr. Tyndall, Victoria mentioned that you own the Grange complex. We were thinking about moving to a

similar idyllic location. Are there any apartments on the market at the moment?” Rogers senior asked.

Anger was burning my skin and I took air into my lungs, trying to calm down. Jenny had her finger

around a lock of her hair and was still grinning at me. She didn’t look like fifteen, for sure, but this

wasn’t the time or place. I felt disgusted that we’d shared a bed together. Victoria had me and I couldn’t

move. She was squeezing my balls tight.

“I don’t think so, Mr. Rogers. These apartments tend to be very popular,” I grumbled.

“Please do let Victoria know if anything goes on the market. See, we want to be closer to our

daughter’s college. The city can be so hectic.”

I nearly threw up my drink and Victoria patted me on my back. I was so fucked.

I’d lost. The bitch had me.

She didn’t say anything about the girl for the rest of the night. When the evening was finally over,

Victoria forced me to go back to her apartment in the city. The drive was long and I was losing my

head, wanting a proper drink.

We didn’t even get through the door before she was on me.

“Dex, I want you to fuck me hard, the way you usually do,” she purred.

“You got anything to drink?” I asked. I had to get wasted if I was going to fuck that bitch.

“There’s some wine in the fridge.”

I pushed her away and strolled into the kitchen. This was absurd, but I couldn’t do this sober. I didn’t

need a glass. I opened the bottle and drank straight from it, emptying half of the bottle in one go. Ten

minutes later, I was back in the bedroom where Victoria was fingering herself, beckoning me over. At

any other time I would have been hard in an instant, ready to fuck her brains out. Right then, though,

my cock hadn’t even twitched.

I took my clothes off, knowing that I wasn’t drunk enough, but I had no other choice. She pulled me

towards her and started kissing me, her tongue moving inside my mouth. My head was completely

screwed; all I could think of was Sasha’s amazing body. My skin crawled when Victoria started running

her claws down below, caressing my skin. Blood rushed through my veins, but my cock was lifeless.

Sasha’s movements on the pole. Sasha’s smile and her feisty mouth. Victoria had her sticky fingers in

my boxers. She looked down on my dick, licking her lips. This wasn’t fucking happening.

“Dexter, what the hell is wrong? Why aren’t you hard for me?”

I was pissed, frustrated and heartbroken. Sasha was in my head. Her orchid perfume was still on my

skin and I couldn’t sleep with the woman in front of me. I pulled away from her and dragged my hand

through my hair.

“I can’t fuck you. Sorry, babe, but my johnson isn’t working for you.”

She took my hand and brought it between her legs. Her pussy was soaking for me, but I couldn’t do

this. I was numb from head to toe. The alcohol made me feel sluggish and worthless.

“It’s wet and ready for you. Come on, Dex,” she urged me, but I slapped her hand away.

“You’re revolting. The last thing I want is to stick my cock into your fucked-up cunt.”

She went mental then, calling me an asshole, screaming and threatening to call the police. I started

putting my clothes on, knowing that this was probably the end of me, but I was done with this shit, with

her threats.

That night I expected to get arrested, but no one came. That banquet was two days ago and I was still

free, still sitting in my apartment feeling sorry for myself. I had a text message from Victoria in the

morning. She was giving me another chance to prove that I was cooperating with her demands. It was

straight after I read the text message from Harry.

I might have something. Just call me when you get this.