Love Drunk

by Marita A. Hansen

  He cackled. “Did’ja say ya wanna see my dickhead?”

  “No!”

  “I do!” Jade said, sidestepping me.

  Killer pulled his massive dick out, the pervert wanking the anaconda. The other mechanics starting yelling at him to put it away, while Jade continued to ogle him. I gave Jade a harder shove, finally getting a yell of complaint from him.

  I pointed at the door. “Out!”

  “Okay, okay,” he snapped.

  He waved at Killer, then exited through the door with a big grin on his face, Killer a fucking menace. The other mechanics continued yelling at Killer to put his dick away. The pervert cackled, probably getting immense joy out of pissing them off.

  I headed down the passage, making sure that Jade was in front of me. He was chatting excitedly about Killer, asking if he could sing and when he could see him again. I ignored him, my thoughts returning to Clara—and who’d threatened her, because if it wasn’t Killer…

  Who the fuck was it?

  14

  Clara

  I grabbed the last of my bags and followed Georgie to my already packed car, the both of us heading out to stay with her friend until Dante dealt with Killer. I went to climb behind the wheel, stopping as Simon’s car pulled into my driveway, blocking me from leaving. I walked around the side of my Civic to his Mercedes, while Georgie locked up the flat.

  Simon climbed out of his car. “I heard that Dante Rata confronted you again. Are you all right?”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

  “Andrew overheard Dante mention he knew the person who broke into your place.”

  I stiffened, surprised that the guard had heard that, especially since he’d been outside. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, hoping like hell Andrew hadn’t overheard anything incriminating. “Dante’s gone to sort things out.”

  Simon shook his head, his expression full of disbelief. “How can I not worry, Clara? You have gang members breaking into your house.”

  “How do you know Killer’s a gang member?”

  His eyes widened. “His name’s Killer?”

  “It’s a shortened version of his birth name Painkiller.”

  “Who names their kid that?” He waved a hand at me. “No, don’t answer, I don’t care. What I care about is that you have gang members threatening you. The police should be handling this, not Dante Rata.”

  “I can’t prove it was Killer.”

  “It doesn’t matter; you still have to report him.”

  “He didn’t actually hurt me.”

  “But he could’ve, which means you’re staying with me. I’m not taking no for an answer. Not with someone called Killer breaking into your house.”

  “But Dante—”

  He cut me off, “Forget about that… man,” he said, obviously wanting to use an insulting name. “You shouldn’t be associating with him, let alone going to him for help.”

  Georgie came up behind me. “Simon’s right.”

  I glanced back at her with annoyance, not appreciating her siding with him.

  She lifted her chin in defiance. “Well, he is.”

  “You’re the one who told me not to take time off while Dante was in the clinic, so don’t get all righteous.”

  “I didn’t want him running you out of your workplace, he’s done enough harm as it is.”

  “I’ve told you enough times that it was my fault I went to jail, so quit harping on about it.” She opened her mouth, probably intending on giving me more grief, so I cut her off. “No, Georgie, stop it now. You need to leave this alone. I did my time, end of story. Don’t put this on Dante. He was fifteen.”

  “Fine,” she grumbled, slipping her phone into her jacket. “By the way, I just got a call from my mate’s mother. We can’t stay with Roxanne, she’s in hospital.”

  “Why?” I asked, taken aback. “What happened?”

  A frown marred Georgie’s perfectly made-up face. “Some bastard mugged her. Can you please drop me off at Middleton Hospital? I want to spend some time with her.”

  “Sure. Hope her injuries aren’t serious.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it. The doctor’s only keeping her overnight because she lost consciousness. Regardless, I still want to see her asap. She stuck by me in the hard times, I want to be there for her too.”

  “Since she’s in hospital, where will we go? I can’t really afford a hotel.”

  “You’ll stay with me,” Simon piped up. “I have plenty of room.”

  “You’re such a sweetheart!” Georgie bolted forward, giving Simon a kiss on the cheek. Totally clueless as to how I was feeling, she ran around my car, hopping into the passenger side.

  Simon smiled wide. “Then, I’ll see you later.” He walked off before I could process what had just happened, getting into his car and leaving.

  Feeling like throttling Georgie, I climbed behind the wheel. “What the hell was that?” I snapped, starting up my car. “Talking to him is hard enough, let alone staying under the same roof.”

  “We needed a place to stay and really, he’s a lovely guy. Maybe if you pulled your head out of Dante’s arse, you’d see that.”

  Annoyed, I yanked on the handbrake and turned to her. “I don’t have my head up Dante’s arse, thank you very much, but sometimes I think you have yours up Simon’s. If anything, why don’t you ask him out, because at least it’ll get him off my back.”

  She pouted at me. “Don’t be angry with me, CC, it’s not my fault we can’t stay at Roxanne’s. He offered and we needed a place. And I would never go with a mate’s ex. You know that.”

  “So, you do like Simon?”

  She grimaced. “Yeah, he reminds me of the teacher I had the hots for, but he’s into you, and I want someone nice for you.”

  I grunted. Georgie was always able to wheedle her way back into my good books, her intentions usually sweet. “He’s not for me, but we can stay for one night, but only one night.”

  She clapped. “Hopefully that’s all we’ll need if Dante sorts things out.”

  I nodded, hoping that too.

  ***

  Simon’s home was a lavish two-storey Spanish-styled villa, with a terracotta roof and manicured grounds. It had once been a school, the view of the beach stunning. Real estate agents constantly left their cards in his mail box, all but begging him to let them sell it, but he would sooner sell his soul than the property. It was an inheritance that he’d received after his parents died in a helicopter crash, Simon incredibly wealthy. He didn’t work for money, he worked for enjoyment, as well as a means to keep himself on the straight and narrow. He’d told me that he’d once been a party boy, snorting cocaine and drinking until he fell over, which was why he liked the rehab centre so much. Helping others also helped him stay sober, a constant reminder of what he didn’t want to revert back to.

  He smiled as he held the front door open for me, the man a perfect gentleman, someone I should want, just… No matter how much I reasoned with myself, I just didn’t want him. He reminded me of my husband, a nice guy I’d cheated on to be with Dante. Markus and Simon were similar in so many ways. They both had lovely personalities, treated me right, were blond, good-looking… Yeah, Simon’s looks weren’t as striking as Markus’s. He was also shorter and not as sporty as my ex, but he was still attractive. His looks were just softer than Markus’s, pretty as opposed to manly. You noticed them more and more as you got to know him. His lovely blue-green eyes were surrounded by amazing long lashes, while he had a sort of grace about him. It was probably why I’d thought he was gay when I’d first met him, his pretty features and dress sense confusing me. Though, he was anything but, because he definitely liked women, women also liking him. Candace constantly commented on Simon being a right cutie, while Georgie also thought he was.

  God! I was trying to talk myself into wanting him, but it wasn’t working, because all I wanted was Dante.

  All I ever wanted was Dante.

  Wishing Georgie was he
re instead of at the hospital, I stepped through Simon’s front door, feeling more than a little awkward. The last time I’d been here hadn’t ended well. I could still picture the devastated look on Simon’s face as I turned down his proposal. That had been so hard, especially when he’d pulled out his mother’s ring, a family heirloom that had been passed down the generations.

  I followed him through his house to the guest room, everything so tastefully decorated. Vaulted ceilings, expensive paintings lining the walls from around the globe, along with antique furniture that probably cost more than a year’s rent.

  Simon stepped aside for me to enter the room. “You can put your things away while I go sort dinner,” he said, leaving me alone, the sound of his footsteps heading up the staircase.

  I dumped my bag by the single bed, wishing that Dante would call me, telling me he’d sorted things out with Killer. A second later, I realised he couldn’t phone me, since I hadn’t given him my number.

  I slumped down on the single bed and put my head in my hands, annoyed that Georgie had told him I’d done time due to our relationship. I didn’t like Dante apologising for it. I’d meant it when I’d told Georgie and Simon that it was my fault I’d gone to jail. How could it not be? I’d been the adult in the situation, while Dante, although having chased me, had been underage, mature in some ways, but oh so innocent and vulnerable in others.

  Like now. Because he still gave off that aura of vulnerability every time he spoke of his tragic past. It was such a conflicting trait of his, clashing with his intense sexuality, the man a paradox.

  I rubbed at my face roughly, wishing things were back to how they were a couple of months ago. I’d actually felt like things were going well, and even though I didn’t want to marry Simon, we’d had a lovely time together. Our relationship may not have been filled with passion, but it had been nice. A friendship that had turned into something more, understated like the man himself, but still … nice.

  Nice. That seemed to be the word that personified Simon.

  My mind went to Dante, that man anything but nice. Sexy. Sensual. Mouth-watering. Not nice. He was the quintessential bad boy through and through, trouble with a capital T, bolded, highlighted, and underlined, the type of man who could even tempt a nun, his body pure heaven. I conjured up the image of him getting out of the pool, visually tracing the water that had ran down his naked body… That was much, much, much more than nice, that was pure and utter temptation.

  “I’ve ordered the pizzas.”

  I jolted, not having heard Simon enter my room. I looked up at him, getting a sheepish smile in return.

  “Sorry,” he said, scratching his head, ruffling his blond hair. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright. Though, you looked away with the fairies. What were you thinking about?”

  Dante naked. “Nothing.”

  He indicated with his thumb over his shoulder. “You want to come upstairs? The pizzas will be here in twenty.”

  I pushed to my feet. “Actually, can I have a shower before they arrive? Lugging those bags to the car made me a bit sweaty.”

  “Sure. You know where the towels are. I’ll leave you to it.”

  He disappeared out the door, so freaking accommodating that it just rubbed more salt into the wound that Dante had created.

  Sighing, I grabbed some clothes to change into and headed through the passage to the downstairs shower. Getting a towel from the closet next to it, I entered the shower room, trying to process what had happened. Georgie had told me everything that Dante had said to her, which had left my heart pounding ever since.

  He’s going to find out everything!

  Which was why Killer had warned me all those years ago to stay clear of Dante. But when Dante had walked into the clinic last week, I hadn’t even thought about Killer’s warning. I’d been too caught up with seeing the man I loved. Yet now, after the threatening message, Killer’s original words wouldn’t leave my head. But would he carry through with disfiguring me? Or would Dante make him back off, like he’d gotten his father to back off when we’d escaped up north? And if he did get Killer to leave me alone, maybe…

  I instantly shook the thought out of my head. I couldn’t reignite things with Dante. Although it was obvious he was attracted to me, and I to him, I’d read his file. He was a womanizer, jumping from one bed to another, and even worse, his file had said he’d done porn, Tyler’s words making it all the more real. Did I seriously want someone like that in my life? And especially after everything I’d gone through. Love wasn’t always enough. I’d learnt that the hard way, the three long years in prison scarring both my body and soul.

  I slipped my top off and reached behind my back, running my fingers over the scar Marnie had put there. It was raised and bumpy like brail, just much more pronounced, telling me a story I’d much rather forget. But the wounds Dante had put in my heart were far worse. I’d suffered so much for giving into the charismatic boy from South Auckland, my time in prison not something that would ever leave me.

  I exhaled loudly, wishing I could exhale all of my demons too, Dante amongst them. I undid my bra and dropped it to the floor, then shimmied out of my skirt and knickers. I turned on the shower and stepped inside the roomy cubicle, moving under the stream of water. As it beat down over my head and body, I closed my eyes, imagining the rain beating down on me as I watched Dante swim naked. I fast-forwarded the memory, stopping on Dante standing before me, with only the wire fence between us. So incredibly gorgeous, the man even more stunning than when I’d fallen for him.

  I ran my hand over my breasts, laying a path down my stomach, my mind’s eye wandering down Dante’s body, wishing he was in front of me now. I would run my hand down his body, touching him instead of myself. I groaned at the mental picture, biting my lip to stop more groans from escaping as I started to play with my clit, the man having wound me up tighter than a coil. I needed release.

  I needed him.

  A loud bang made me almost jump out of my skin. I whipped my hand away like a naughty child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar. My eyes darted to the window, the sound coming from outside. I peeked through the blinds, unable to see anything, other than an expansive lawn leading to a pond. The bang sounded again, what I was hearing now registering. A car had backfired.

  I grunted, annoyed that it had interrupted me, the possibility of release lost. Frustrated, I turned off the faucet and stepped out of the shower, drying myself off quickly. Before I could torture myself with more thoughts about Dante, I dressed and headed back to my room.

  I closed the door behind me, careful not to make a sound, still uneasy about being in Simon’s house. But I had nowhere else to go. My father was travelling with his husband, while Georgie was my only friend. I’d shut out everyone I’d known prior to my conviction, my father and his husband the exceptions.

  I sat down on the bed and picked up my mobile, calling through to Georgie. She answered quickly, firing off, “You okay, CC?”

  I smiled, her voice settling me down. It was nice knowing that someone cared about me, wanting nothing more than for me to be happy, even at their own expense.

  “I’m fine,” I replied. “How’s your friend?”

  “Not good. Her mum was misinformed. Roxanne wasn’t mugged. Some prick broke into her house, smashing her over the head. And get this, they took nothing.”

  I frowned. “But why would they knock her out and take nothing?”

  “That’s what I asked her, and she has no clue.”

  “Did she see who it was?”

  “No, she was hit from behind.”

  “That’s really weird they took nothing.”

  “Not after what happened to you.”

  My frown grew. “What are you getting at, Georgie?”

  “Killer. It’s got to be him.”

  “But he doesn’t know your friend.”

  “He could’ve found out somehow, and he’s crazy enough to do it. Maybe he did it to shake you up, to make you m
ove away or something.”

  “Wait a minute, Georgie, you’re getting way ahead of yourself. Whatever happened to your friend isn’t connected to me, Killer never hurt me, just threatened to.”

  “Don’t you think it’s a bit of a coincidence that the day after our house gets broken into, something happens to Roxanne?”

  “They’re two entirely different situations. As I said, Killer just left a threatening note, while your friend got attacked, and she does live in South Auckland.”

  “In the nice part, out in the country. Unlike in Claydon and Wera, it isn’t a common thing there. This thug would’ve had to travel quite a way to get to her place. Most of these hood boys couldn’t be bothered to go out to Clevedon.”

  “Wait up, did you say Clevedon?” I asked, remembering where the Skins’ headquarters was.

  “Yeah, that’s where Roxanne lives.”

  I shoved a hand through my hair and swore, now having second thoughts.

  “What’s wrong, CC?” Georgie asked, sounding worried.

  “The Skin’s headquarters is in Clevedon.”

  “As in Killer’s gang?”

  “Yes.”

  She swore. “I knew it! I’ll call the police—”

  “No, Georgie, you can’t.”

  “Why the hell not? That bastard hurt my mate!”

  “Do you remember what I told you about the Skins?”

  “What?!”

  “You hurt one of theirs and you’ll have the whole gang coming down on you.”

  “Then what the hell are we meant to do? I can’t just let what happened to Roxanne fly, and what about you? He could seriously hurt you.”

  My mind went to Killer’s comment about the Joker’s smile. I shivered at the thought. “Dante said he was going to get Killer to back down. I’d call him to check how it went, but I don’t have his number.”

  “I can get it for you, it’s on file. I’ll ring Maggie and get back to you if she hasn’t already gone home. If she has, we can check with Dante tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  “As for now, stay at Simon’s, you’ll be safe there. I’ll be back late, got a few things to do after seeing Roxanne, so don’t wait up for me.”