Page 1 of Deep Down
Chapter 1
Craig
Curled up in the corner of the room, Craig Talbot watched through one open and one slitted eye, goosebumps rising on his arms in the moonlight as he shivered in his jogging bottoms and t-shirt, not daring to make a sound of protest. There was a continual warm, metallic taste on his lips making him constantly wipe his mouth to stop any blood finding its way onto the carpet. He catalogued his injuries: a throbbing beat lanced through his head at every movement, his back ached, and he desperately needed to cough to clear his rattling airway but daren’t in case it woke Darren. Craig’s body couldn’t take anymore that night; as it was, he might have to go to hospital to have his left shoulder reset. At least his ribs seemed to be free from pain, meaning he could move around. Unlike last time.
Alternating between closing his eyes to snatch some rest, checking his pain levels and keeping his eyes open so he could watch for when Darren woke, Craig spent the night extremely tense. When Darren’s alarm finally ripped through the silence the following morning, Craig was exhausted and stiff. He winced as his muscles seized in anticipation of Darren’s mood.
Silently, he observed as Darren pressed his alarm before throwing the covers back and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, facing away from Craig. Darren rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair before squinting over his shoulder.
“I need to leave in thirty minutes. Make sure my breakfast is ready to take with me.” Darren stalked to the bathroom, closing the door with a click.
Craig didn’t reply, it would earn him nothing except animosity if he did. Unfurling his legs, he strained to speed up his movements whilst attempting to minimise his pain by holding his forearm against his stomach and not bump into anything. After a night like last night, Darren would expect a breakfast burrito with vegetables. Craig hurried to the kitchen, eyeing the pattern on the floor along the mirrored hallway and removed the food from the fridge. Pain knifed through his shoulder, but he worked, cradling it against his side, coughing intermittently to clear his throat.
Managing to cook the mix for the burrito alongside filling Darren’s lunch box with low-fat yogurt, almonds, berries, protein bars, bananas, apples and cottage cheese, Craig worked in a frenzy.
Darren barrelled in as Craig slid the burrito into a wax bag. Craig held out the lunch box and a travel mug of coffee. “You made it in time for once.” Darren snatched the items, leaning forward to press a kiss to Craig’s cheek before grimacing. “You need to clean yourself up.” Craig tensed and bit back a hiss at the shooting pain as Darren nudged past him. “See you later. Roast beef for dinner tonight. Six o’clock.”
Darren’s hand was on the door handle when Craig called his name quietly, and he glanced back, eyebrow raised.
“I may need a doctor to look at my shoulder.” Craig was unsure how Darren would respond, but Craig needed to be checked over. A dislocated shoulder couldn’t be repaired as easily as other bumps and bruises.
“Huh. Well, see how you go today, and we’ll talk at dinner.” With those words, Darren left, slamming the door behind him.
Craig exhaled slowly but held himself upright, waiting in case Darren returned. Darren had done that once before and had shocked the hell out of Craig. Setting out his own breakfast at the time, Darren had slammed back in the door, swearing and cursing when his car hadn’t started. Craig had forgotten to remind Darren it was due for a service.
When no one entered, Craig sighed and rested back against the counter, grateful his breathing was unimpaired, apart from when pain stole through him. A doctor’s visit would be necessary as his shoulder sent fire through him with every movement, but he’d have to wait until later. He needed Darren’s help to drive him there anyway.
Craig poured some cereal, snagged a banana and shuffled onto a chair at the kitchen table as gingerly as he could. Once he demolished the food, he removed a beef joint from the freezer to defrost ready for dinner and trudged to the bedroom to shower. Carefully, he took off his clothes, placing them by the door for when he finished, then entered the shower. With every swipe of the washcloth, he groaned or hissed, especially when the soap made contact with his broken skin, but eventually, he was clean enough to pass muster.
After that painful process, he instigated another, redressing in a similar outfit. Breathing heavily, Craig picked up his clothes from the doorway and drifted back to the kitchen to put on a load of washing; Darren hated it when there were dirty clothes lying around.
Once his morning domestic duties were complete, he went to his office, his lethargic state receding despite his lack of sleep. It was time for work.
Craig loved designing websites. Using his specific skill set, he could create something unique and perfect for a person and their requirements. Yes, sometimes it took a long time to create exactly what they wanted, but the result was worth it. In fact, Darren had been one of his customers; it was how they’d met. Craig had been designing for several years, and they’d hit it off straight away. The rest was history. Craig had built a successful business and had a waiting list; it was unbelievable how many people would prefer to wait forhimthan to ask someone else to do it. Not that he was complaining—he wasn’t—it just blew his mind.
Concentrating on putting the fonts and pictures exactly as the author wanted them on his current project, Craig was wholly focused, clicking here, coding there, moving things around until it fit where it needed to. This job was more or less complete. It would’ve been completed yesterday, but there had been an issue with one of the coding pieces; the site wouldn’t accept it. It had taken extra time to set it right before everything would fit into place. Now, he was doing the finishing cosmetic touches to ensure he ticked all the boxes the author had requested.
Pausing, he peered at the clock, surprised it was lunchtime. He logged his time on the spreadsheet he used for accounting and locked his computer. He wasn’t sure why he did, but every time he left his computer, he made sure to secure it. Maybe it was left over from when he was at uni, and they had taught them to do it as a safety precaution. Standing, he gasped as a spasm knifed through his back and shoulder, and he braced his good hand on the desk, head lowered, breathing shakily through the fire. When it had calmed enough to take a deep breath, he stood slowly. Momentarily, he wished for pain relief but shook his head, annoyed at himself for being selfish. He wasn’t in enough pain where he would take the tablets away from Darren should he need them.
Entering the kitchen, he reached for a noodle packet and emptied it into a pan. While the water heated, he plucked a glass from the shelf, filled it with cold water from the tap and drank heartily, ignoring any twinging complaints. When it was empty, he refilled it and set it on the table, placing a fork and spoon next to it. Within minutes, the noodles were ready, the spicy scent hovering in the air, and he sat to feed his grumbling stomach. Checking if Darren had left any messages on his phone—he hadn’t—Craig enjoyed the silence and finished his meal, the warmth radiating out from his abdomen.
Bowl empty, he half-filled the sink with hot soapy water, washed and dried the equipment he’d used before putting everything back away where he had found them. Confirming each thing was in its place, he nodded and shuffled back to the office. Craig was sure he could finish the website before the end of his day.
He did. By the time four o’clock rolled around, he had finished the author’s website, contacted the author and logged his hours to enable Darren to send the invoice, even when he’d stopped for ten minutes to put the meat in the oven so it would be ready on time.
Craig stretched from his desk cautiously, wincing when he couldn’t reach his left arm above his head. He needed a doctor to check it, without a doubt. Hopefully, Darren was in a good enough mood to take him. Time would tell.
He strode towards the kitchen again, ready to prepare dinner. By the time he had retrieved the pans and ingredients, his eyes were watering, and his breaths were coming short and sharp. Craig ignored his reaction and carried on cooking.
The door opened behind him as he finished mashing the potatoes one-handed.
“Nice to see you have followed instructions. Plate it up. I’m starving.” Darren kissed Craig on the forehead and hustled to his chair. Craig watched out the corner of his eye as Darren slipped off his jacket and hung it on the back. Craig had already set the table, the only thing missing were the plates of food. “How long did you work for today?” Darren asked as he sat.
“Six and a half hours.”
“What did you get done?”
“I finished the website for Mandy Templeton.” Craig waited for Darren’s response.
