Inescapable Fate: Hanleigh's London (The Fate Series Book 1)

by Hanleigh Bradley

  The room has gone quiet and without looking, I know they are all watching us. I scrunch up my face, closing my eyes, refusing to turn to look at my colleagues.

  When I open them again, he’s looking down at me and his face is closer than I’d initially realised. Shit. I’m screwed.

  John breaks the silence by coughing loudly. I mentally thank him. The lads are quick to return to their previous train of thought – food – and soon they are all eating heartily and talking animatedly. Happily, I sit and watch them without feeling the need to say anything myself.

  They tell me all about the new cases they’re working on and I find myself growing jealous. My shoulders tense and Trent puts his arm around me.

  “Not long now, Bint. You’ll be back in no time.”

  I should tell him off for calling me a Bint, but it will have absolutely no effect on him whatsoever and what’s more I’m grateful that at least he understands that I want to get back to work.

  “Yeah, the DCS has already lined you up with a new desk job,” Lance Stone says playfully.

  “Not funny!” I huff out.

  The guys chatter away about this and that. I try to keep up but my mind keeps wandering. With his arm around me, it’s almost impossible to think of anything except Trent. I find myself wondering if he will spend the night with me again. It’s too much to ask, especially when he has work in the morning. Yet, I can’t resist wishing that he will.

  Mark and Anthony are the first to make their excuses. Anthony Milton is a big foodie and as soon as the pizza is gone that’s his cue to leave. Mark, on the other hand, has plans with his family in the morning and is planning on getting an early night. The others gradually follow, until only myself, Trent and John are sat in the hospital room. Trent gets up to throw away the pizza boxes, leaving me and John alone.

  “You and the DCI seem close?” he asks.

  Nodding my head, I tell him the truth. “We became sort of friends during the last case.”

  “Friends?” I can’t gage whether he’s encouraging me to go for it with Trent or whether this is a warning. “You seem closer than that.”

  “Do we?” I play it off. I don’t want to have this conversation. Not now.

  “Just remember that even if you’re currently in the hospital and not at work, he’s still going to be your boss when you get back.”

  “I haven’t forgotten that.”

  “Good. If you can differentiate the two, I have nothing against it.”

  “But there’s nothing…”

  “Sure… maybe not yet…”

  I don’t respond because Trent chooses this moment to walk back into the room.

  “Trent,” John smirks, “would you give me a lift home?”

  Trent’s eyes dart to mine and I school my expression, hiding my disappointment.

  “Sure.” He returns his attention to John. “You going to be okay, Kentley? Nothing else we can get you before we go?”

  “I’m good.” I say, my voice flatter than I intend it to be.

  The look in his eyes tells me he shares my disappointment, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m reading into it, or seeing imaginary emotions cross his face.

  After they leave, I make my way to the bathroom. I take my time cleaning my teeth, brushing my hair and washing my face. When I climb back into bed, my mind drifts back to Trent and how disappointed I feel that he’s not here with me.

  Just falling asleep, I’m surprised when the door to my hospital room opens an hour later. I sit up and face the door. Trent is stood there with a bag on his shoulder.

  I’m smiling like an idiot and I don’t know if I can stop myself now that I’ve started.

  His returning smile makes me feel less like an idiot. He closes the door and plonks his bag down on the chair, removing his shoes and approaching my bed.

  “Budge up, Bint.”

  “You’re so bossy,” I complain without any real grumble.

  “Too right.” He grins wolfishly at me as I move up in the bed to make room for him beside me.

  “You didn’t have to come back.” My voice is hesitant, perhaps even a little nervous.

  “I wanted to.”

  “Okay.”

  “Damn right it’s okay. I’m the Boss here,” he tells me as he climbs into bed beside me.

  “Not sure you can use that line when you are demanding entry to my bed.”

  “HR would have a field day.” He smirks like a naughty boy who almost wants to get caught.

  “What did John talk to you about?” I ask, nosily.

  “What did he talk about with you when I took the pizza out?” He answers my question with a question.

  “I think you already know the answer to that.”

  “Then I think you already know the answer to your question too.”

  I yawn involuntarily.

  “Time to sleep, Bint.”

  “You really need to stop calling me a Bint.”

  “Never going to happen.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s quickly becoming a habit.”

  “Habits can change.”

  “Only if you want them to.”

  “I want it to.”

  “But I don’t,” he says as he pulls me down so that I’m resting my head on his chest.

  “It’s not very nice.”

  He doesn’t deny it. “No, it’s not.”

  “You should be nice.”

  “Why? What are you going to do if I don’t? Tell daddy?” he whispers.

  I can almost picture him closing his eyes as he talks to me. I wish I could see him clearly.

  “No. Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know but I’m pretty sure your dad would still let me have you.”

  “Let you have me?” I practically shoot up into a seated position, turning at the waist so I can look him dead in the eye. “You misogynist!”

  Chuckling, he replies, “what would you prefer I call you?”

  He pulls me back down so that I’m once more lying down.

  “I don’t know.”

  “It won’t change then.”

  “But.”

  “Nope. I like it.”

  “Surely you can think of a better name,” I say tersely.

  “I can do a lot of things, doesn’t mean I will.”

  I pout, even if he can’t see it.

  “Now enough nonsense,” he says as he allows his hand to run through my hair. “Time to sleep.”

  “But I don’t want to.”

  His tone is teasing when he replies, “what do you want?”

  That simple, little question puts at least a hundred ideas into my head.

  Chapter sixteen – Walker

  Waking up, I pull the warm lump next to me closer. I open my eyes and peer down at her. She’s curled up, her hand clutching my shirt. Her hair is flowing in ricochets down her back. She’s unbelievably beautiful like this, completely at ease without a care in the world, a little lioness momentarily tamed.

  My mind returns to the night before. I’d thought I was teasing her with my words, “what do you want?” but in reality, I had been equally tempting myself.

  Common sense said that it was a bad idea to kiss her but that hadn’t stopped me. I’d lifted her chin towards me and allowed myself to do the one thing I knew I probably shouldn’t. Her lips were soft yet firm as she kissed me back, her hand going to my neck, pulling me closer.

  The kiss quickly escalated, my tongue seeking entry into her mouth, licking along the length of her bottom lip. It yielded but her tongue was waiting for mine, ready to compete for dominance.

  My little lioness was not easy to tame.

  I rolled over so that I was hovering over her, careful not to put any of my weight on her, concerned for her wound.

  I brushed her hair off her face and kissed her once more. It was zealous and sweet all at once. I allowed my tongue to draw tiny circles along the roof of her mouth before pulling back so she could catch her breath. I dropped
little kisses along her chin, as she purred beneath me.

  Kissing her was the highlight of my year so far.

  My fingers now run across my lips as they tingle at the memory. Her hands had been in my hair pulling me closer, causing my tongue to go deeper into her mouth and pushing her body against mine in the most tempting way.

  I only pulled back when she froze, flinching away in pain, a hand running to her side. I sat up, concerned that I had hurt her.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, my voice rough.

  She nodded, lifting her eyes to meet mine. They were hooded with lust as she grabbed my shirt to pull me back to her. I shook my head.

  “No. You should rest.”

  She pouted, my little lioness was damn cute when she wanted to be. I chuckled with a massive grin on my face, shaking my head gently. I had rolled us back over, careful not to hurt her.

  “Sleep.”

  Now though I’m lying here with her wrapped around me, legs entwined. I know I should get up. Her family are bound to show up at some point and I shouldn’t be found in her bed twice in forty-eight hours.

  It’s my day off though and every inch of me wants to stay right where I am.

  “Morning Bint.” I say as I return to the room an hour later, carrying two coffees and a brown MacDonalds bag. “I got breakfast.”

  She beams at me from where she is currently sat near the window.

  “Yay! Mackies!”

  I kiss her on the forehead and offer her one of the coffees before sitting on the side of her bed, facing her.

  “Sleep well?”

  “Yes,” she replies as I pass her a breakfast muffin.

  We don’t mention what happened the night before. I’m not really sure what we should say. There’s plenty that probably should be said but I don’t know what last night means. I know we shouldn’t really be together, it’s dangerous, a risk... but that doesn’t stop me wanting her.

  It’s not that I don’t want to care about her.

  It’s more that I don’t want her to care about me. The more she cares, the stupider she will be. It’s not that I think she’ll start behaving like a simpering miss, no, I’m more concerned that if we find ourselves in a dangerous situation, she’ll risk her own life to save mine.

  That’s what happens when you care.

  Having finished eating, she looks up at the clock, frowning gently.

  “Mum will be here soon. You don’t have to stay.”

  “I want to stay,” I tell her candidly.

  “Aren’t you needed at the yard?”

  “It’s my day off.”

  “And you’re going to waste it at the hospital?”

  “I’m not wasting it if I’m spending it with you, silly Bint.”

  “You can’t eat that.” I pull a face. “It looks gross.”

  She grins at me. “It’s hospital food.”

  Her mum is sat reading a book, although I’ve caught her secretly watching us a couple of times. We’ve spent the morning watching the news and playing snap. I’ve played the part of the perfect gentleman and I’ve won her mother over.

  “Let’s go down to the canteen and get something better.”

  Pushing the table away, she doesn’t need to be told twice. She feels trapped in this little room. It’s evident in the way she taps her foot repeatedly as she struggles to sit still. She grabs a hoodie and turns to her mum.

  “You must be hungry too, mum?”

  “I could eat,” Mrs Kentley says gently, closing her book and placing it on the corner of the side table.

  We make our way down to the canteen slowly. I tease Kentley for being such a slow poke, except she knows that I’d tell her off if she were to speed up. The food in the canteen isn’t much better than what she’d had on her plate on the ward but at least she’s out of that little room. The smile on her face is enough to make the trip down to the canteen worth it.

  Her mum takes the opportunity to ask me about a thousand questions.

  “So, what do your parents do Walker?”

  “They’re retired, Mrs Kentley,” I say politely. “My dad was an engineer. He used to work for the MOD. As for mum, she was a Maths teacher.”

  “Oh, lovely.” She gives me a warm smile. “They must be very proud of you.”

  “Yes, Mam,” I agree. “They are.”

  “You can call me Cheryl.”

  “Thank you, Cheryl.”

  The questions continue.

  “Do you have siblings?”

  “Yes. Several.” I grin. “We have a big family; there are five of us.”

  “FIVE?” Her eyebrows shoot up. “Wow. That must be nice?”

  “It’s awesome. I have four guaranteed people in my corner when things go wrong.”

  She nods.

  “I always wanted to have other children but I couldn’t. My pregnancy with Georgie wasn’t good. I nearly lost her and the doctors told me it was too dangerous to try for more.”

  I nod my head solemnly.

  “We adopted two other children,” she goes on to tell me. “Will, Georgie’s big brother lives in Edinburgh and Rachael is at University in Birmingham.”

  The conversation flows easily.

  Mrs Kentley receives a phone call from her husband halfway through our meal. It turns out the DCS is looking for them in Georgia’s room. Ten minutes later he’s sitting with us at our table in the canteen. He doesn’t comment at my presence. He doesn’t seem affected by it at all.

  “Enjoying your day off, Trent?”

  “It’s been pretty good so far.”

  I lean back, resting my arm on the back of Kentley’s chair.

  “Have you been here long?” he asks with a glint of laughter in his eyes. He knows full well I’ve been here all day, but he wants me to say it.

  “All day, Sir,” silently adding to myself, and all night.

  “Good, good. And what have you all been doing with yourselves all morning?”

  “We played cards,” Georgia Kentley answers, “and watched the news…” The list is short. “Mum read a book,” she adds, clearly trying to make our day sound more interesting.

  In response, he claps his hands abruptly. “And you came here for lunch?”

  “Well the hospital food wasn’t that great,” I explain.

  “Is it ever?” He chortles happily.

  “We need to head back to the ward,” Kentley tells her parents. “The doctor will be doing her rounds.” Her voice is rich with excitement. I don’t have to look at her to know that she is hoping that the doctor will discharge her today.

  “I think you should come stay with us if they let you go home.” Mrs Kentley… Cheryl says.

  “No. I’m going home.”

  “There’s no telling her, Cheryl,” the DCS soothes.

  “She lives alone!” The harpy from the other night has returned and shit, I wish I could disappear into the woodwork. “She needs someone there to look after her. She’s still injured.”

  “Well, I’ll be at work most of the time anyway…” Kentley doesn’t help herself.

  “You’re not going back to work straight away,” her father says at the exact same time I say, “no, you won’t.”

  “What is this? Gang up on Georgia day?” Kentley huffs.

  I turn in my chair, giving her my full attention.

  “There’s no way in hell that I’m letting you run around London chasing after criminals with stitches in your side.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. It’s non-negotiable. You’re staying home for at least a week.”

  I can hear her parents murmuring their agreement behind me. I turn back to face them.

  “I’m currently staying at a friend’s place. He just so happens to be Georgia’s next-door neighbour. I’m not far away if she needs anything.”

  I can almost see the clogs moving in her mother’s eyes.

  “Would you perhaps consider staying with Georgie for a few nights? I’d feel very reassured if there was someon
e inside the apartment with her.”

  Detective Chief Superintendent is entertained by his wife’s suggestion, but he keeps his mouth shut, the only evidence of his amusement the creases around his eyes as he struggles not to laugh.

  As the nurses prepare Kentley’s medication and her parents sort her personal belongings. I sit listening to Kentley’s complaints. She’s frustrated that we won’t let her go back to work. She should be grateful that she’s allowed out of the hospital at all.

  “Just think of it as a holiday, Kentley.”

  “I don’t want a bloody holiday. I want to work.”

  I smirk happily at her.

  “Well, you’ve got a holiday so you better not waste it.”

  “You could always bring case files home for me.” Her eyes go wide with excitement. “I could work from home… there must be something I can do? Or you could just put me behind a desk.”

  “You want to go back to work so much, you’d even take a desk job?”

  “Please.” She pulls on my arm, begging me.

  “No. You are taking a week off to rest, not to work at home, not to sit behind a desk. You’re going to take the time to relax, even if I have to damn well force you, little Bint.”

  “Stop calling me that,” she grumbles without conviction.

  Leaning closer, I say directly into her ear, “never.”

  Her parents return just in time to witness our closeness and for me to catch the cherry blush that lands on her cheeks.

  “All sorted.” The DCS smirks.

  “I’ve got my car,” I tell them. “I can drive Georgia home.”

  “That’s good of you.” The DCS nods.

  Mrs Kentley looks less sure. “Perhaps I should come with you.”

  “Cheryl…” DCS Kentley begins, just as I say, “Mrs Kentley, surely you are tired. You’ve been so busy taking care of Georgia. You should rest too.”

  It’s five o’clock by the time we get back. I offer to cook dinner but the contents of her fridge are severely lacking in anything edible. I should have thought about it beforehand. She’s been in the hospital for ages.

  I glance back to where I’ve left her, sat on the sofa. I tell her that I’m just heading next door to grab some food and she apologises for her empty fridge.