by Lacey Alpha
His tone is heavy with insinuation. I pretend not to get the hint, giving him a a vague response and guiding Logan away. He salutes Ralph dramatically, pulling me tighter to him as we head down the street.
“That was your plan?” I mutter as he starts walking straighter, quickening his pace and tugging me along.
“It worked, didn't it?”
I shoot him a look, ducking out from under his arm as we round a corner. All I can see is that girl grinding on his lap.
“I never gave you my answer,” I mutter. Though my frustration is nothing compared to my relief at seeing Logan. Not that I'd let him know that.
He halts, turning to me. “Would you rather still be standing back there with Heathcote? 'Cause you didn't look so happy when I arrived.”
I shrug, glancing away.
“Come on, I packed our stuff. It's already in the car.” He hurries down the road, turning into an underground car park.
“Wait – you got the car?” I ask in astonishment, having nearly forgotten all about it.
“Course I got the car.”
I roll my eyes at his back. Cocky as ever.
“Here she is.” He halts beside it. The McLaren is tucked into a corner space so it's barely visible unless someone were to walk past it.
“Oh,” I breathe, raising my brows, my adrenaline rising. This is Ralph's car. We just robbed him.
I round on Logan, my heels scraping on the concrete. “So are you going to tell me the truth about Ralph now?”
“Firstly, our priority is getting in the car and getting the fuck out of dodge. And secondly, you never actually agreed to my deal.” He wrenches open the passenger door for me, giving me a mock-gentlemanly gesture.
I scowl at him, dropping into the car. Guess things haven't changed between us. When he joins me in the cab, we speed out of the car park, heading out of Cannes at top speed.
“What about CCTV? Won't the police find us?” I whisper, glancing around at the streets.
“Heathcote won't send the police.”
I frown, sensing a terrifying undertone to his voice. “Who will he send?”
“His own men. And you'd better get praying they don't catch us, sweetheart. Otherwise we're dead.”
I stiffen. “What?” I snap. “What do you mean dead?”
“As in, the thing that comes after life.” He shifts gears forcefully, his arm stiff as a pole.
“Oh would you ever stop being such an arsehole?” I demand, glaring at him. My heart flips over and over in my chest. I'm officially a criminal. No one's going to protect me if this goes south.
His shoulders become tense, his expression fierce. “I didn't realise I was, sweetheart. In fact, I'm pretty sure it was you that was the issue.”
“Ha,” I spit. “Is that why you were dry humping that girl in the bar today? Although I imagine it turned into something a lot less dry a few minutes later.” There. I said it. And much as I'm embarrassed by my burning cheeks and raging jealous girlfriend expression, I simply couldn't hold it back any longer.
Logan swerves the car dangerously, snapping around to give me his full attention. “You saw that?” he demands.
“The road, Logan!” I practically scream, my heart tumbling in my chest. Much as I'm sickened that he shagged the nearest thing with legs, I'd rather not die over it.
He levels the car out with expert skill, merging onto the autoroute.
“And yes, I saw that. I came downstairs to-” I halt my words, biting down hard on my lower lip.
Crap crap crap.
All this adrenaline is screwing with my filter.
“To what?”
“Nothing,” I snip, folding my arms.
“To what Darcy?” he snarls.
“Talk to you,” I breathe, my chest cleaving open. My throat burns as tears well, threatening to spill over. But I will not let any man see me cry again. Ever.
I blink hard, trying to keep all the emotion locked deep inside me.
“About what?” Logan presses, his tone softening.
“I don't want to say. It's irrelevant now,” I insist, turning my attention out of the window.
“Why's it irrelevant?” Logan's frustrated with all my half answers and, hell, I am too.
“Because you fucked someone else!” I blurt, my anger spilling over, the tears swiftly following.
No no no no no no.
I try to subtly wipe them away, gazing firmly out the window. Maybe he won't notice. His eyes are on the road, not me.
Silence falls in the car and it's so pressing that I think I'll go mad.
“I didn't fuck her,” he says in a low tone.
I snap around, inhaling sharply. Despite myself, his words make my heart sing like a song thrush.
“You wanted to,” I grind out, not letting this go even now.
“Yeah, I did. To get you out of my system after you called off our deal.”
My heart twinges. “So why didn't you?” I snarl, still irrationally mad at him. I know I called off the deal but did he really have to try and jump into bed with the next woman he came across?
“You know what, Darcy?” He glances at me, grimacing. “You give nothing of yourself to me emotionally, so I'm not going to sit here and give you all the answers you fancy. You can figure it out for your damn self.”
The car accelerates forward and I sit in silence, hurt, but most of all, put in my place. Because, try as I might to be mad at him, he's right. And even now, as I attempt to pluck up the courage to tell him how I feel, I simply can't do it. Not after seeing him with that girl. There's too much doubt. Too much at risk.
I keep my gaze fixed outside, trying to accept that this is how it has to be. But the only thing I feel is a knot tightening and tightening in my chest until I can barely breathe.
ADAM
Five years ago
“Love is patient, love is kind,” Kira sings at me, dancing away into the bathroom.
I groan, horny as fuck. I haven't seen her in nearly two weeks after she went on a university-funded trip to Paris. She came back with purple streaks in her hair, said they were just for me.
“I'm still not getting the purple hair thing. Why is that a gift for me exactly?” I call, hearing her pee in the bathroom across the hall. Boundaries went out the window about two months ago. And I'm not complaining. It's weirdly cute to hear her pee. Yeah, I'm a freak. But I'm her freak.
Mum's away and Logan actually did what I asked for once and cleared out for the night. I think he's starting to realise how important Kira is to me.
“Because your favourite song is Purple Rain, duh.”
I laugh, burying my head in the pillow. “And why does that constitute purple hair?”
“Because I couldn't get you purple rain, but I could get you hair that looks like it's been out in purple rain.”
She's fucking nuts. I love this chick. “Come back to bed, I've got some purple balls that need dealing with. And I'm sure you can make my cock rain.”
She giggles wildly. “That is one crazy image.”
“Did you drink half the water in Paris?” She's been in there a while now, but I can't hear any more peeing going on.
She steps out of the room, dressed in skyscraper heels and a skimpy black cat outfit, tail and fucking all.
I sit bolt upright.
“Meow.” She approaches and I grin, shaking my head at her. My cock is raging for this girl.
“Holy fuck, kitty cat,” I blurt, grabbing her waist. Fur included on this bad boy. Jesus fucking Christ. I run my hands through it, right up to her throat before drawing her into a kiss.
She straddles my hips, purring – actually fucking purring - and I nearly come right there in her lap.
When I draw away, the nose and whiskers she drew on herself are smudged. I know for a fact they're rubbed all over my face but couldn't really give two shits. I'm going to devour her.
“Do you love me?” I ask, burying my head in her neck, breathing in her raspberry scent. I
don't know if she's always smelt this way, or if she wears it because it's my favourite. Either way makes my heart glow.
“Meow,” she breathes.
“Is that a yes?”
“Meow.” She nods.
I push inside her, knowing this isn't going to last two seconds. But fuck it. We've got all night for once.
¸.•*´♥`*•.¸
“Oh! Jesus – fuck - Jesus.”
I stir from sleep, butt naked, Kira at my feet curled up like an actual cat – loon. Then I focus on Logan at the door, a hand clamped over his eyes.
“I need to talk to you, dickshit. Please warn me the next time you do – whatever the fuck this is. And wear boxers to bed. Your boner is now officially scarred into my retinas.”
My face heats up as I grab a pair of boxers, tugging them over myself.
When I look up, Logan's gone so I head into the hall, shutting the door behind me. I walk to Logan's room, pushing through the door, yawning. Christ, Kira's wiped me out.
My brother's room is so different to the way it used to be. Posters of cars and hot chicks once hung on the walls, covering every inch of space. It looks glaringly bare now. And I think I'm noticing it more because I rarely come in here these days.
Logan falls onto his bed. Blue sheets and white pillows. Very blah. In fact, his room's so clean it's almost suspicious.
“I fucked up, man.”
I take in my brother for the first time. He looks a mess. Rings under his eyes, a cut on his cheek.
I glance out the window, finding the sun rising in pink and gold hues. Has he been up all night?
“What happened?” I drop onto the end of his bed.
Worry is etched in every inch of his face. This is a new look for him. My big brother doesn't worry. He smokes pot, steals car, fucks girls and breezes through life. What the fuck is going on?
“I missed the deadline.” His eyes are glassy with some dark memory. “He's psycho, man, fucking psycho.”
“Logan,” I say harshly to jolt him out of his reverie.
He sits up, swinging his legs over the bed and dropping his head into his hands. “Heathcote had some fucker come after me. Thought I'd run off with the car or some shit.”
He's shaking, I realise and place a tentative hand on his shoulder. “What happened?”
He drags his shirt off and I stiffen, my stomach shredded by razors. Logan's covered in bruises, his ribs, his back, his spine. It's like he's been used as a human piñata.
“Holy fuck. You need to go to the police,” I demand, my own hands beginning to shake. My brother is the epitome of strength. I've never seen him cut down, I've never seen him so much as lose a bloody thumb war.
“Yeah? And what do you think the police will do when I tell them I was stealing a car, dipshit?”
My heart weighs down in my chest like there's a brick hanging from it.
“Fuck,” I breathe.“You can't work for him any more.”
“I'm in balls deep here. I can't just walk away from this. There'll be consequences.”
“Worse than this?” I blurt, glaring at the purple and red patches marring his body.
He stands, gazing down at me with a ferocity that's terrifying. “Yes worse than this. Like you getting hurt, or Mum.”
Claws grip my heart. “Logan...”
“Don't start. Just listen.” He takes a breath and I fall silent, ready to do as my big brother says. As I always had been when I was younger.
His brow grows taut like this is paining him to voice. “I need your help.”
LOGAN
“Do you ever think about their feelings?” Adam asks, queen of all relationships now he's in one.
“Nope,” I say simply.
“You can't fuck a girl, dump her, then fuck her best friend. It's screwed up, Logan.”
Now he's telling me what to do. What the fuck happened?
“Alright. If I tell you I feel bad, will you leave me alone?”
“You don't though, do you?” He scowls at me, like I've fucked his girlfriend or something.
“Nope.” But I do. I fucking do.
I drive through the night, not sparing a word of discussion with Darcy. She eventually falls asleep, her knees tucked up beneath her, her forehead creased in a frown.
I sigh heavily, despising the way things have ended up between us. I can't stop thinking about her seeing me with that French girl. Was she really upset by it? Was she actually considering being with me before she saw that? As usual, I've royally fucked things up. I'm a plague, crawling into the lives of the people I love. That's why I keep to myself now. After everything that happened with Mum...Adam. Darcy's the first person I've let in and look how it turned out?
Darcy shivers in her sleep and I'm tempted to turn the air-con down, but know it's the only thing keeping me awake.
Instead, I snatch my leather jacket off the back seat and gently place it over her. She doesn't wake but tugs the jacket tighter around her.
“Logan...” she murmurs in her dreams and I raise my brows.
Instinctively, I reach for her hand and she clutches it tightly, pulling it to her chest. Maybe her subconscious wants me, but waking Darcy does not.
I extract my fingers with another sigh, a heaviness weighing in me. My eyes sting with tiredness and as the light of dawn glows on the horizon above the highway, I know I'll soon need to rest. I wanted to put as much distance between Heathcote and us as possible. He's probably already sent men after us, though I hope he hasn't figured out Darcy was involved yet. Her disappearance isn't going to go unnoticed though. I encouraged her to text Heathcote with a lie, but she decided to turn her phone off instead. I guess it's only a matter of time before he figures out the truth. And she knows that as well as I do.
When we get back to England, I need to bury her. Hide her back in her old life and cut ties. Keep her safe. Do the right thing for once in my miserable life. Stop getting people I care about involved in my bullshit.
I risked a lot last night by meeting him face to face. But I had to get Darcy out of there and couldn't see another way. We only met once and that was six years ago. If I'm lucky, he might not join the dots.
Pulling off of the autoroute, I wind through rural towns, searching for a suitable hotel to park the car.
Eventually, I find a resort on the outskirts of a large town, right on the edge of a sparkling lake, near turquoise beneath the pale blue sky.
The hotel is an old building, three storeys high with mint green window shutters and a clay-coloured roof. We pass by a snoozing guard and I park the car beneath an open air shelter alongside the hotel. The car sticks out like a sore thumb, but nestled between two old trucks, it might remain unnoticed. Either way, I have to risk it. I can't go without sleeping any longer and I'm not gonna chance driving us off the road because of my stubbornness.
I kill the engine but Darcy doesn't wake. Leaving her to sleep, I head inside, my vision blurry from exhaustion. I check us in, figuring it's best to still get one room under the guise of us travelling as a couple.
Returning to the car, I sling our bags over my back before opening the passenger door. Darcy mumbles something incoherent and I frown, drawn to her peaceful expression. Someone so beautiful, both inside and out, should not be here, wrapped up in my hell.
Brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, I lean down. “Darcy?” I say softly.
She doesn't wake and I wonder if I can carry her inside without disturbing her. Figuring she can't be any angrier with me than she already is, I scoop her into my arms and nudge the door shut, locking it as I head inside. She hangs limply in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder as she sleeps. Her fruity scent doesn't escape my attention, rushing over me in a sweet wave.
The concierge grins at us, gesturing for me to take the lift upstairs. I do so, heading through the rustic hotel, the walls decorated with old farm equipment and faded photographs from the 1800s.
I arrive at our room, juggling Darcy and the keys in my hand to o
pen it.
It's decorated in white with a large window overlooking the lake, letting the morning light in. It's the sort of place couples would go for a romantic getaway, not the fucked-up crime spree I've got Darcy involved in.
Moving to the bed, I lay Darcy down, chucking our bags on a duck-egg blue armchair before stripping down to my boxers.
Pulling the curtains across the window, the light turns to a deep orange as it streams through the dark magenta curtains.
I return to the bed, eyeing Darcy in her rose-pink dress from last night. I tug off her heels, feeling it's the least I can do to make her comfortable, but leave the rest of her outfit in place, figuring she wouldn't appreciate me removing any more of her clothes.
I slide under the sheets beside her, tracing her expression as my eyelids droop. The last thing that crosses my mind is, this is the final time I'll ever fall asleep beside her.
¸.•*´♥`*•.¸
I wake to Darcy stirring and peek through my eyelashes, finding her stripping out of the pink dress. My mouth goes dry, my body responding to hers with ease. I shut my eyes, blocking out the sight as she slides under the covers in just her underwear.
She sighs contentedly and the sound arouses me further. I roll over, turning my back on her, pushing the sheets down my waist to cool off. As always, my blood runs as hot as the Mexican sun.
As I'm drifting back off, Darcy's hands slide around me. I stiffen as she presses her body to mine, pressing her forehead to my back.
“I'm sorry,” she whispers, her tone pained, slicing right through me.
I remain still, unsure what to do, unclear of what exactly she's apologising for. She clutches me tighter and I take her hands, gently holding them.
“You confuse the hell out of me,” I say, releasing a heavy breath.
“You confuse me too,” she says quietly and I frown, clutching her hands tighter. “But maybe not in the same way.”
My mind spins. I have no idea what she's angling at here.
“Look at me,” she pleads, but I don't move. As soon as I meet those soft grey eyes, I'm a goner.