Everything You Need: Everything For You Trilogy Book 1 Read Free Page A

care of him. Been here.”
    “He wanted you to go back to university and take your finals. You did what he asked you to do. It made him happy.”
    “I never saw him again.”
    “I know.”
    We sit in silence for a while.
    “I’m making a mess of everything.”
    Jack holds me from him at arms’ length and stares solemnly at me. “What could you possibly make a mess of?”
    I stare back at him. “You’re just a figment of my imagination. What would you know about it?” I twist out of his arms and collapse onto my side down into the bed. Utter exhaustion overwhelms me. “Go away. I’m not explaining to a drunken delirium just how badly I’m stuffing things up at CaidCo.” I’m not sure if I’m speaking out loud or not. Everything converges in the centre of my brain. I’m wholly drained.
    He barks a laugh. “Drunken delirium or not, I’m staying right here until you sober up, kitten. Then we’ll discuss what’s going to happen next.”
    That crazy delusion is reading my thoughts now… And calling me kitten... Real Jack used to call me kitten all the time…
    To everything else I grow insensible.
    * * *
    Lots of things have the ability to irritate me. I haven’t the will to open my eyes but this morning they won’t let me be.
    Annoying lights dance behind my closed eyelids until I have to move my forearm slowly over my face in an attempt to block them out. Notting Hill on a Saturday morning drones inside my head: vehicles rumble, brakes screech, voices are louder than they ought to be and music is playing everywhere. All sounds converge into one. It would have to be this morning my hearing becomes hyper-sensitive and my apartment’s triple-glazed sound insulation fails, simultaneously.
    Even worse is the banging and thumping coming from so close by I’m beginning to think dwarves must be mining their way into my apartment. A faint sense of déjà vu drifts in on a tide of memory but ebbs away again.
    I decided to escape work yesterday afternoon to drink myself stupid. And mission accomplished apparently. I always lock the door behind me and turn my phones off but for the life of me I can’t remember anything else. I desperately want to go back to sleep yet the exquisitely irritable feeling of a bladder about to explode forces me to wake up. I need to crawl out of bed and skulk my way to the bathroom.
    Even before I move, I notice sun shining straight onto my face through the open window. When did I open that? I never leave my window open at night even though I’m on the top floor. I’m shocked to think I might have got so drunk I tried to crawl out of it.
    Yet I can’t quite square that level of inebriation with the fact that my head isn’t even pounding. I twist my head carefully to one side. On top of the bedside cabinet is a huge glass jug with barely an inch of water left in the bottom. That would account for the bladder, I suppose. I lift the duvet gingerly to check this isn’t my second exploding bladder of the morning and am relieved to find the sheets dry. That would definitely have been me hitting rock bottom.
    I’m confused. When did I ever prepare in advance to get water into my system before I went to bed? What would be the point of that? I look around for the empty vodka bottle but it’s gone. Beyond my closed bedroom door, it sounds like someone is trying to break their way into my apartment. Perhaps there’s building work being done in the block.
    When I hear voices, I still and listen. They’re speaking in some oriental language and they’re coming from inside my apartment. I glance towards the open window.
    Oh, God, I’m being burgled as I sleep.
    I crawl out of bed. I don’t want to be lying here wide awake when the thieves come back through with all my valuables. My heart pounds and my respiration rate amps up into shallow air-sucking gulps. Please don’t let me have a panic attack now. I look about for something to arm myself with.
    Quickly dismissing the idea of filing