“And after the accident, you lost all that. You don’t feel that calm anymore, do you?” I knew the answer, but I asked the question anyway
“No. That’s not what I’m saying.” He frowned and leaned towards me. “I feel the calm, but I have another outlet now. I have you.”
My heart skipped a beat.
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I know the way I feel. I also know you’ll never feel that way about me and I’m okay with that. I’m used to rejection. I’ve lived my whole life with disappointment. It’s second nature…”
I didn’t give him the chance to utter another word. I leant up and planted a kiss on his lips. A soft, gentle peck that told him he didn’t need to keep making excuses. That messed up, confused but calm feeling he was experiencing, I felt it too.
I pulled away but stayed close to him, looking deep into his eyes. He blew out a low breath and whispered, “You don’t have to feel sorry for me.”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Isn’t it? I don’t want you to use me for some kind of fucked-up therapy, Harper. A way to prove to yourself that you’re moving on.”
“I’m not.”
He reached forward and cupped my cheek and I leant into him. His hands were rough and calloused, but I liked the way they felt against my skin. The rough with the smooth. I looked up at him, seeing the confusion in his eyes, the way he was toying with his emotions.
“I have thought about you every day since that night,” he said. “You are the first thing I think about in the morning and last thing on my mind at night. I lie awake and wonder if what I did will ever get any easier for me to deal with.”
“It will, if you let me help. We can help each other.”
He placed his forehead gently against mine.
“I think I’m beyond help.”
“You don’t know if you don’t…”
I was the one who didn’t get to finish this time. Brandon kissed me, grabbing the back of my head and crashing his lips hard onto mine. He sent my mind into freefall.
I kissed him back, opening my mouth and groaning as our tongues laced together. I’d never been kissed this way before. Raw and electric; that’s the only way I could describe it, because he lit up my whole world.
I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, and he spun me round so my back was against the wall. Then he lifted me up by the backs of my thighs and I clamped my legs around his waist.
We stood against that wall in the shadows, finding ourselves in each other. The warmth of his body made me melt. The heat of his kiss set me on fire. I never wanted it to end. I wanted to live in the darkness forever, with him. He made me feel alive.
I ran my fingernails across the back of his head, and he moaned into our kiss. I threaded my fingers through his hair and tugged lightly as he squeezed my ass and ran his hands from my waist to my thighs and back again. And all the time, we were grinding our hips against each other. Needing more.
Brandon was the first to pull away, but he kept his forehead pressed against mine and panted as he said, “I don’t want to end this, but I’m not fucking you in an alleyway, Harper.”
I blushed at the crudeness of his words. “I didn’t think…”
“I want to, but you deserve better.” He sighed as he dropped my legs and let me stand on my own. “I’m not saying I don’t want this. I do. Trust me.” He quirked an eyebrow and looked down at his trousers with a smirk and then back up at me. I couldn’t keep the smile off my face at the obvious bulge he was sporting.
“You like me,” I said like an idiot.
“I more than like you.”
He gave me another kiss and then he chuckled to himself.
“I guess my mother was good for one thing after all. I never thought my night would end like this.” Then he full-on laughed. “I can’t believe you slapped her.”
“She asked for it. And for the record, that’s the first time I’ve ever hit anyone.”
He reached down to take my hand in his and lifted it up to kiss my knuckles.
“Good. I’m the brawler around here, not you,” he said, then playfully knocked his fist against my chin and laughed again.
“Your mum got us together. What are the chances?”
“Are we? Together, I mean?” He bit his lip and looked at the floor, shuffling nervously and kicking stones that weren’t even there.
“We’re something. Let’s not label it just yet. Let’s see where this thing takes us,” I suggested, and he seemed happy with that.
“I can do that.”
“Brandon?”
“Yes, little warrior?”
“You ever creep into my garden or my kitchen again to stalk me and I’ll kick your ass.”
He threw his head back and roared with laughter.
“What if I’m doing it to sneak into your room? There have to be exceptions to the rule?” He winked.
“I suppose I could overlook certain exceptional circumstances,” I said, pretending to look serious about it.
“Good, because I’m not staying away. I want to be everywhere that you are.”
I’d been a gentleman the night before and taken Harper home. Not my usual M.O, but then I was trying to be a better man for her. I managed to get another kiss at her front door, but I didn’t want to push my luck. I wanted this to work, and I also had Emily bloody Winters sat on my shoulder the whole time, telling me I had to treat Harper differently. She wasn’t like most girls I’d been around. She wasn’t like any girl I’d ever met before.
But today, I was pumped full of aggressive energy and wound up to the point that I wanted to punch a wall. After the run-in with my egg donor and then holding back from doing what I really wanted to do with Harper last night, I was like a tightly coiled spring. I needed an outlet, and I decided there was a better target I could aim for than a wall.
Jensen fucking Lockwood.
I’d left it far too long to teach that prick a lesson, and I needed him to know she was off-limits. Payback for him putting his hands on her was long overdue.
I stormed up their ridiculously extravagant driveway, smirking at the matching Range Rovers they had parked up.
Did they know it was me who torched the last lot?
I bloody hoped so.
I wanted them to know that no matter how much time passed, I’d never give up getting my revenge on them for what they did to me. Chase might not have used his fists like the others, but in the later years, he’d stood and watched. He was as guilty as they were.
I banged my fist on their door and kept the demonic smile on my face. I wanted him to see what my intentions were the minute he opened that door. The Joker had nothing on some of the crazy shit I wanted to do.
When it finally swung open, and Chase stood there gawping at me, I tried not to let my smile falter. If I had to knock him out to get to his brother, I would. His smug-ass face deserved a beating.
“Where is he?” I asked, putting my foot forward to stop him from closing the door.
“He isn’t here.” Chase folded his arms over his chest, trying to look tough, but I noticed the way his hands were shaking. The fucker was scared.
“I’ll wait then.” I took another step forward, so I was standing in the doorway. I wasn’t going to be pushed out. I was going to be heard. “Are you gonna invite me in for a drink? Or do I have to sit outside on your driveway all day? ‘Cos I will. I’m not going anywhere.”
Chase took a furtive glance down the hallway then whispered, “I don’t know where he is. He won’t be back here today. I can’t help you. You need to leave.”
He tried to move towards me, maybe hoping I’d back off and he could shut the door in my face, but that was never gonna happen. I stood my ground.
“You know where he is.”
“Honestly, I don’t. He left the night of the party. Your party at the waterworks. Nice touch, by the way, making him out
to be a pussy in your little speech, but my brother doesn’t hit women.”
“Are you sure about that? ‘Cos I know what I saw and the bruise on Harper’s face told me a different story.”
His eyes went wide, and I could tell he believed me. He didn’t want to, but he did.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He couldn’t look me in the eye when he spoke.
“Your brother hit Harper and he needs to pay.”
And I’m here to collect on his debt, with my fists.
“If my brother hit her, then I’d punch the fuck out of him myself,” Chase said, holding his chin up and doing a shit job of looking like a stand-up guy.
“Don’t pretend to be self-righteous with me. I know you, remember. I know what your little crew are capable of. He hit her, but he won’t ever do it again. When I get my hands on him, he’s gonna regret it. Trust me.”
Chase narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously.
“Why do you care? It’s Brodie’s sister… oh… wait, are you and her? Fuck… That is something I did not see coming.”
I wanted to give him a smart answer, wipe that smug smirk off his face, but I was interrupted.
“What is going on here?”
Don Lockwood strode towards us looking like his wife had shrunk his underwear in the wash as he grimaced in annoyance.
“Brandon’s just leaving,” Chase stated, trying to usher me out of the door again. He needed to stop getting so fucking close. If he carried on poking the lion inside of me, he’d get a scary fucking wake-up call.
“I’m here to see Jensen,” I said firmly, making sure both of them knew I wasn’t fucking about.
“Jensen is out of town.” He shrugged. “He’s away on business. Why do you want him?”
I didn’t trust Don Lockwood one bit and I didn’t like the way he was eyeballing me. This guy was twice my age, but I could tell he fancied his chances. I also knew he’d been involved in the whole money laundering bullshit that Emily’s Dad was on trial for. We could never pin anything on him, but he was knee deep in the shit. The fact that he’d got away with it and ghosted Alec Winters ever since must’ve made him feel untouchable. But as far as I was concerned, nobody was unbeatable. If he came at me, I’d come back even harder.
“I didn’t expect to see you here today. Not at the trial?” I asked, hoping to get a rise out of him.
He gritted his teeth as he reluctantly responded.
“That trial has nothing to do with me or my family.”
“Shit always floats to the top, huh?” I glared back at him, daring him to fight back. He didn’t like that I wasn’t cowering away.
“I wouldn’t know,” he said, putting his nose in the air like he was better than me. “There’s no room for cheats and liars in my world.”
“But lies don’t stay buried for long.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds until the tense moment was broken by his wife, Karen, coming out into the hallway. She took one look at me and she gasped.
“Oh my God. You look just like…”
She didn’t get to finish what she was saying. Don Lockwood spun around and charged over to her, grabbing her arm aggressively and marching her away from where we stood.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d leave our house,” he snapped over his shoulder. “We have nothing for you here.”
My back went up at the way he dragged his wife away. Guess that’s where Jensen got his sadistic streak from. Like father, like son.
“I thought my family were freaks.” I laughed. “But yours take the fucking cake. Enjoy living your lies, Lockwood. Tell Jensen I’ll be waiting for him.”
He didn’t reply, just stood gawping at me like the fool he was.
I turned and walked away, but all I’d achieved through my visit was a larger chip on my shoulder and an even stronger urge to hit something.
When I got to the gym, I headed straight for the boxing area, bypassing the weights and the cardio machines. Since coming back to Sandland, I’d used the place to work out and train for my comeback fight, but they didn’t employ me anymore. After bailing on them following the incident with Harper’s brother, they gave me my cards. But luckily, I hadn’t burnt every bridge, and Ken, the manager, still let me use the facilities. It was a good job too, because I was wired and ready to explode.
It was busy, but I found a free punch bag towards the back of the room. I took my t-shirt off, and after one of the guys helped me to tape up my hands, I got to work, imagining Jensen’s face as I pounded the leather. I was so engrossed in hitting the bag with as much force as I could, I didn’t notice anyone close by, not until I felt a hand tap my shoulder. I stopped and pulled the headphones out of my ears.
“Brandon. It’s good to see you.” Pat Murphy clapped me on the back like he was a proud father.
“Pat.” I nodded, feeling too zoned-out to give him anything more.
“You’re in good shape,” he said, looking me up and down.
“Thanks.” I went to put my headphones back in, but he put a hand on my arm to stop me.
“I know you’re back to fighting for your boys again, but hear me out, okay. I still want you to come and fight for me.”
I shook my head. I’d already made my mind up on this. It wasn’t up for discussion again.
“I already told you, I’m not interested. I made a promise to my friends and I don’t let people down.”
“I understand that, and I’m not saying you can’t still fight for them, but if you fight for me too, we could really make something here. You should be fighting on a bigger stage. Punching for the big bucks not for fucking bets. What do you even make on those nights? Hundreds? If you fight for me, I could add a zero to that number.”
Pat was a good guy, but I wasn’t born yesterday.
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch. I need the best fighters on my books. You’re the best I’ve seen in years. I have contacts in the U.S. and I’m setting up a few fights. Bare-knuckle boxing isn’t legal over there like it is here, but there’s ways around it. Don’t you want to be a champion?”
He thought he could reel me in with fake titles and bullshit about fighting in the states? He’d need a damn sight more than that if he wanted to entice me.
“I don’t need a title from anyone.”
I started to punch the bag again, effectively dismissing him, but he wasn’t giving up.
“Brandon Mathers. U.K. bare-knuckle champion, does have a certain ring to it, doesn’t it? And I’m sure you don’t want to be living with your nan for the rest of your life. Just think what that kind of money could do for you. For your future. The more fights you get under your belt, the bigger the pay cheque.”
He did have a point. I couldn’t live with my nan or sofa surf for much longer. And the thought of buying my own place was a dream I wanted to make a reality.
“So, I’d still be able to pick my own fights?” I asked, grabbing the punch bag as it swung towards me.
“As long as it didn’t jeopardise your fitness or clash with any of my bookings. Just think about it, okay. You have my number.”
I had to admit money had been tight lately, and a bit of extra cash would’ve helped. Maybe a few fights for Pat wouldn’t be so hard. I hadn’t met a guy yet who could beat me. Perhaps now was the perfect time to start branching out? Try tougher opponents. We’d had to throw the net wider to find the last fighter, and even though I’d had that lapse in concentration, Callum Kendall was no match for me. It was like taking candy from a baby, and I didn’t want my fights to grow stale.
“Fine. I’ll do it,” I said before I could change my mind.
“Good lad.” Pat slapped me hard on my back. “I’ll be in touch. We’ll need to think about diets, fitness, and your daily training regime. That sort of stuff.”
“I train just fine. I don’t need any help.” I frowned, not liking how this was going already. I didn’t take orders well, not from anyone.
“
For what I have planned, we’ll need to turn you into a fucking machine. Don’t worry, son. I have it all planned out. Once we’re finished, the world of boxing won’t know what’s hit it.”
Had I just made the worst fucking decision of my life? I had no idea. My brain was fried. I could barely think straight. And after using up my energy at the gym, I needed to find some clarity. That’s why I was standing in the Hardy’s living room, pacing up and down as I recalled everything that had happened in the last twelve hours at the Lockwood’s house and then with Pat Murphy.
“We were worried about you last night, mate,” Ryan said, interrupting my incoherent rambling. “Are you okay? You know, after everything with Pam?” He stared at me like he expected me to flip out at any second.
“My egg donor is an attention-grabbing whore. It’s the story of my life. I should be used to it by now, but it still gets to me.”
Ryan understood, and he knew me well enough to know when to drop the subject. I hadn’t come here to talk about Pam fucking Mathers, the woman who didn’t deserve the title of mother.
“I didn’t expect Harper to be the one to chase you down. I’ve got to admit, it shocked me.” He smirked.
“You and me both.” I couldn’t stop myself from grinning, even though my insides were tangled up in knots. Things were finally starting to look up for me… At least I thought they were. If I could get my head around everything.
“Not sure what she’ll think about you fighting for Murphy though. Wasn’t he training Brodie before he died?”
I’d heard those rumours too, but I didn’t want to dwell on whatever had gone on between Pat and Yates. That was his business, not mine. All I knew was, Pat wanted the best. He’d badgered me for months to join him. Now, he’d got me. The rest wasn’t up for discussion. Well, not Brodie’s involvement, anyway.
“I’m not sure I’m gonna tell her.” I shrugged, trying to convince myself that it wasn’t a big deal.
Ryan sighed and leaned forward in his chair.
“I don’t think you’re gonna be able to keep something like this quiet, mate. You know what this town’s like; gossip spreads like wildfire. Look, I know I said to stay away from her, but even I can see there might be something there between you two. If you want to make a go of it, you need to be honest.”
Tortured Souls (Rebels of Sandland Book 2) Page 21