SailtotheMoon by Lynne Connolly Read Free Book Online Page A

favor,
brought me down a bit. I needed it, arrogant fuck that I am.” He stalked to the
door and flung it open. “Get out. I’ll have a car arranged for you. But get out
of my sight.”
    She stood her ground, but her face was white, her eyes large
in her face. “You’re James Asano?”
    “Oh very good.” He applauded. “James, Zazz, haven’t you
lived in Manchester long enough?” He sneered. “Oh that’s right, you’re a posh
girl. Where did you grow up? Chorltonville, West Didsbury, maybe? Not Moss
Side, not Hulme, where roaches ran over your face in the night and your father
screamed in his delusions and all your friends were Gazz, Bazz or Zazz. I’m not
going back. The name’s all I kept.”
    He could see when realization slammed into her, as it had to
him a few moments ago. “He’s old. He’s a lifelong addict, and he’s not likely
to come off methadone,” she said. “He wants to see you one last time. He’s your father .”
    He slammed the door so hard it vibrated on its hinges. “You
know what? He’s not my father, not really. He was at a gig in San Francisco and
I got dumped on him after a wild party. The woman said I was his, but he never
had tests done. I was another of his hallucinations, that’s all. When he came
home to Manchester it was as easy to take me as leave me and fill out all the
forms. I pay his rent and for his nurse, and that’s it.”
    Her hands clenched into fists. “He brought you up.”
    He gave a derisory laugh. “Dragged me up, more like. I ran
away at sixteen to get away from him and fucking Hulme and fucking Manchester.
This place gives me hives. As soon as that concert’s finished tomorrow night,
I’m away, gone. I’ll never come back. Get it? Now fuck off.”
    He opened the door again. After a moment staring at his
face, she took a step to the door. “I could bring him here.”
    Oh no she wouldn’t. “Don’t you fucking dare. I won’t see
him. Want to see him turned away? I don’t know him, don’t want ’im.” Aware in
his agitation that his native accent was pushing through, he let it. What did
it matter? She knew his secrets. “I’ll carry on paying the money into his
account, but don’t come back, don’t ask to see me. Thanks for the fuck, it was
grand.”
    Putting up her chin, she marched through the door. He’d
never see her again. He’d tell Chick to keep her away. Fuck, how could he have
let her get under his skin? Of course she knew who he was, and she’d fucked him
to soften him up.
    His mouth twisted in derision. Another three or four bed
partners and she’d be gone. He’d find one to bring back here so he could fuck
her in this bed, although the thought sent waves of disgust through him. Put
enough distance between them, and he’d forget her. It had worked so far. He’d
run far and fast from his father after the last time. He’d come back from the
pub to find his dad had OD’d, and realized he couldn’t carry on like this. Couldn’t
live like this.
    He might carry the old man’s name, but only by default. And
anyway, Zazz was enough for most things. Only his tax form and his passport had
his real name, and although one or two people might comment, most had forgotten
his father.
    Ten minutes later he was in the shower, heat sending steam
billowing around him in an effort to scald the memories away.
    She’d done it, got right through to the part of him he kept
locked rigidly away, a part of his life he never wanted to revisit. But she’d
forced it on him. He found it easier when they’d started talking about other
subjects in their emails. That explained why he thought he’d known her so well,
that she was more than someone to fuck. He did. He knew everything except her
age, how sexy she was, and he’d fucking learned that now too.
    And still he fought the tears that the memories of his
childhood brought back to him. From a baby to a child, crying in the night for
the father who’d gone out to score, or who got lost