No Going Back by Casey Kelleher (black male authors TXT) 📗

‘In that case… don’t worry, I’ll be gentle with you.’ Kate laughed before taking her cue and disappearing down underneath the covers, intent on finishing what they’d started last night.

Ashley closed his eyes and shut all thoughts of his nagging wife and his agony from the beating he’d taken out of his mind, as Kate took him expertly in her mouth.

He was already in for the earbashing of his life when he got home. He may as well make it worth it while he was here.

‘Where is he? And don’t bullshit me, I know he’s here. Nicky, the doorman at the club, told us he saw you both leaving together last night.’

Ashley was up on his feet then, wincing in pain as he frantically grabbed at his clothes that were still strewn all over Kate’s bedroom floor. He recognised the familiar voice of his father-in-law. And Pete sounded vexed. The fact that he was here at all spoke absolute volumes. Ashley was in a whole world of shit.

Ignoring the pain he was in as he rushed to get dressed, Ashley glanced at the bedroom window, wondering whether, if he was quick enough, he’d have time to fling himself out of it and do a runner.

Only there was no chance of escape, he realised, unsteady on his feet as he slipped them into his jeans, as seconds later Pete marched into the room, closely followed by his second-in-command, Carl Rangers. Another man who couldn’t stand the sight of Ashley.

‘Pete, mate! What are you doing here?’ Ashley said, scrambling to pull the duvet back up around him to cover up his nakedness. He’d forgotten to put on his pants, his jeans still tangled around his feet. His penis wilted on sight of his psychotic father-in-law’s angry glare.

Ashley was caught red-handed, quite literally with his pants down. The look on both men’s faces told Ashley all he needed to know. He was royally in the shit.

‘What the fuck happened to you?’ Pete said, eyeing the bruising all over Ashley’s body, his face battered, sporting a fat lip and a swollen right eye.

Someone had recently dished out a hell of a kicking, though for some reason that didn’t really surprise Pete. Ashley had that effect on people.

‘Oh, nothing. It was just some kids outside Smokes last night,’ Ashley started as Kate came back into the room, dressed in her flimsy silk nightie. Both men looked her up and down.

‘It ain’t how it looks, Pete. I swear. I was beaten up last night, and Kate was looking after me. She insisted that I come back here with her. Nothing happened…’

‘That true, is it? That nothing happened?’ Pete asked, throwing Kate a look of disdain as she self-consciously pulled her robe tightly around her. An expression of guilt was written all over her face, but at least she had the good grace not to give him a lie as an answer. Instead, she diverted her gaze to the floor, her silence speaking volumes.

‘Thought as much,’ Pete scoffed before looking back at Ashley and shaking his head. ‘This one here thinks he’s a fucking charmer. Don’t you, Ashley? Thinks he’s fucking untouchable. That he can do as he pleases. Only you lost that right when you married my daughter!’ Pete bellowed, glaring at Ashley, unwavering hate radiating from him.

Pete had taken an instant dislike to Ashley Cooke on first sight, from the first encounter that Shelby had brought the bloke home to meet them. Not wanting to upset his Shelby, he had plastered a fake smile to his face and done his best at dishing out the pleasantries the entire time that the four of them sat around the dinner table and ate one of Janey’s epic Sunday roasts.

But in all honesty, he’d been glad when the meal was over and Ashley had finally gone home. Because as perfect as his Shelby was, she had one flaw: she had bloody awful taste in men. And when she fell, she fell hard. Arse over head.

And Ashley Cooke was the worst of the lot. Nothing more than a cocky wide boy. Only much to Pete’s dismay, unlike the other boyfriends that didn’t stick around long enough to ever become a problem, Ashley had lasted longer than just a few dates. He’d somehow managed to worm his way into his daughter’s affections and, before they all knew it, a few weeks in Shelby was pregnant.

Pete had begrudgingly taken his wife’s advice and offered Ashley a job with his firm, on the understanding that the condition would be that Ashley was to do the right thing and marry Shelby: a quick, but extremely lavish wedding that Pete had been forced to fork out on.

At least with Ashley working for Pete, it meant that Pete would be able to keep a firm eye on the man. Only it seemed that Ashley wasn’t particularly worried about the repercussions of getting caught out, because here he was yet again brazenly disrespecting Shelby and him.

‘Do you remember that, Ashley? The promise you made to Shelby to love and fucking honour her?’ Pete sneered, aware that Ashley was a different breed completely. Pete could tell that from the second he’d first clocked eyes on the lad.

He’d had indiscretions over the years, of course he had. He was a red-blooded male, after all. He had his needs, but he was always respectful to his Janey when it came to his infidelities. Discreet. Never one to rub it in her face. Which is why their marriage of almost twenty-five years had worked. Ashley didn’t think about anyone but himself, and Pete wouldn’t see his daughter so publicly disrespected in this way.

‘Get your fucking clothes on and get out to the car. Or the only thing you’ll be honouring is the death us do part bit, when I fucking bury you six feet under.’

‘I’m sorry, Pete…’ Ashley began; only, Pete didn’t want to hear the man worm his way out of this with his pathetic excuses. After