Broken Ties (Prequel to The Mentalist Series)

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Broken Ties (Prequel to The Mentalist Series) Page 6

by Kenechi Udogu

wasn’t bothered by the fact that he would soon be crushed by a mass of ticked off teenagers. His green eyes seemed to be searching for something in the crowd. They only stopped when they settled on me. Yep, their fight definitely had something to do with me.

  I don’t think anyone else noticed who he was looking at because he didn’t dwell on me for long. It actually felt like once he saw I had witnessed his behaviour, he was done with the scene, because he sprang up then and raced for the door. The others weren’t quick enough to catch him as he sprinted up the steps and, I assumed, out of the house. Half a dozen or so footballers followed suit and the rest of us realised the show was over. Anyone who wanted to witness the conclusion would have to follow them. There was still too much alcohol left in the basement for people to seriously consider leaving.

  Some of Brandon’s other friends helped him up and led him to one of the sofas. He didn’t look too bad, just a little shaken up.

  “He kind of asked for it,” I heard one guy say to another. “He was dissing Paul upstairs and followed him down here. Something about showing him how he wasn’t so tough.”

  “Ha! He probably regrets messing with him now. After what happened with Paddy, I knew Paul had a good swing in him. Brandon’s lucky his nose is still intact.” 

  I couldn’t stay there. Unless something else huge happened, their fight was going to be the main topic of discussion all night. I was already driving myself nuts wondering whether the guys had caught up with Paul and Cheung. What would they do to them if they did? I had to go after him. It was a stupid idea, but I had to find out if he was alright.

  Just so it wouldn’t look too obvious, I let a couple of minutes go by before glancing at my phone as I mumbled something to the girls about leaving early.

  “But your ride’s not due for another couple of hours,” Theresa’s eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t feel too well,” I thought fast, touching my belly. “Awful cramps, you know?”

  Every girl knew what that meant and no one was going to try to convince me to stay. I only felt a little bit guilty as I accepted their sympathetic hugs and kisses and requests for me to ring them once I got off the bus. Funnily enough, no one offered to accompany me home. I guess free booze really did trump most things.

  Upstairs, I found the football team camped out in the kitchen, downing beers as they chatted away loudly. Relief washed over me. Paul had to be okay, they wouldn’t have returned so quickly if they’d found him to pummel. But I still couldn’t stay. My body had decided where it needed to be and Keith’s house wasn’t it.

  Once I left the house, I ran all the way to the bus stop, changed buses a couple of times and got off a few blocks away from home. The main street was buzzing with people, but once I turned into the alley beside the derelict courthouse, it was as if I’d stepped into another world. Traffic noise was heavily muted by the mass of the building so there was an air of serenity I hadn’t quite noticed the other night; probably because I had been trying to evade Brandon. As I got to the back, the hard edge of the courthouse dissolved into an overgrown, yet beautifully designed, square. No wonder Paul chose there as a hideaway.

  “Hey.”

  Paul looked up as I approached him. He was sitting on the building’s back steps, staring into space. He didn’t appear startled at all by my intrusion. Really weird because even I was surprised by my actions. There was no reason for me to have known he’d return there and yet I’d found him.

  “Hey,” he nodded at me. I noticed an unlit cigarette balanced loosely on his knuckles. He rolled it up and down his fingers as he carried on looking at me.

  Now I was there, I wasn’t sure what to do, so I stood staring at him for a few seconds, taking in his familiar features. His T-shirt band of the day was The Offspring, but it looked like he’d made an attempt to dress up for the party because he wasn’t wearing his usual manky sneakers. He’d swapped those for a clean pair.

  Why did he have to come across as lost and vulnerable, despite the fact he’d knocked out a guy nearly double his weight without flinching. For the first time since I’d started my mission to win him over, I wondered if hanging out with Paul Colt was a bad choice. They always said the quiet ones were the ones to watch out for, right? But I shook the thought out of my head. He couldn’t be dangerous. He just couldn’t.

  When it began to feel like neither of us was going to say anything else, I decided to take action. After all, I was the one invading his sanctuary. Walking up the steps, I settled myself beside him, inhaling his strangely intoxicating scent of mint and citrus. He’d definitely made an effort for the party. Why else would he have worn cologne? I was mostly relieved he didn’t smell of cigarette smoke.

  “Can I see?”

  Paul glanced at my outstretched hands and frowned lightly before shrugging and raising his right hand. He still hadn’t asked what I was doing there or how I’d known he’d be there, but I had a feeling he wasn’t going to make that enquiry.

  His hand was cool to the touch, even though the night air was warm. His long fingers looked almost comical in my small palms as I turned them around to inspect his knuckles. 

  “Looks like it’ll need some ice. Got any on you?” I joked and, thank heavens, his frown softened into a grin. I tried to ignore the flutter in my chest; how could dimples be so, so sexy?

  “Thanks.” The word came out as a whisper as I held on to his hand, our eyes locked in an unbreakable link.

  “For what?” My question was whispered to match his tone.

  “For coming after me.”

  “I only aim to please.”

  Did I just say that? It was official, my brain cells turned to mush whenever he was around. I’d manage to spew nonsense every single time I’d spoken to him. In an attempt to hide my mortification, I laughed and dropped his hand.

  “I guess I just figured…someone has to look out for you.” It was only after saying the words out loud that I realised it really was the reason I was there. I wanted to be the one who looked out for him.

  “That’s why I have Cheung.”

  “What? Is he hiding behind that bush over there?”

  Another short chuckle from him. I loved that I could do that to him, make him laugh. If only I could make him smile forever. Urgh, foolish thoughts floating about in my head again. I looked down at my hands and began playing with them to distract myself from the thought of forever with him.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, but it didn’t feel awkward. It felt comfortable; familiar, almost. Like we’d done this before, plenty of times. Like we’d become so used to being around each other that words weren’t needed to fill the space between us. Yet, we hadn’t.

  When I looked up again, I noticed Paul was staring at me. He might have been watching me all that time and I hadn’t noticed.

  “I know this sounds strange but…”

  “You want to touch my hair?” I finished for him.

  “How did you…”

  I laughed. “You keep staring at it, like you don’t think it’s real. I’m just happy you haven’t got a foot fetish. I’ve got runner’s feet. Not the prettiest of sights on anyone.”

  And then, before he could respond, I took his unbruised hand and guided it to my nape. His fingers were still cold as they touched my skin then gently snaked their way up to my scalp. I could have sworn I heard his breath catch at the same time mine lodged itself in my chest.

  That was the moment Paul Colt kissed me.

  FIVE

  Paul

  Something was wrong with me. It had to be. Why else would I have thought kissing Nora Brice was a good idea? I’d always figured my first time would be with my chosen child bearer. That is, if she let me kiss her at all. I’d wondered whether there’d be limits on what we were allowed to do. Boundaries on how much affection we could show each other, just in case we realised we fancied each other and decided to do something scandalous, like elope.

  Let’s face it, I’d also wondered what it’d
be like to kiss Nora. Deluded teenage boy spending countless hours fantasising about a gorgeous girl; not much of a surprise there, really. Despite my freaky abilities, I was still just a guy who liked a girl. But that was where I thought those fancies would remain, locked tightly away in my head.

  The thing was, I didn’t have much choice in the matter. With her slightly parted lips so close to mine and her strawberry scented hair in my open palm, everything I’d been taught about maintaining restraint flew out of my head as a savage heat took over my senses.

  My God, her hair was even softer than I’d imagined it’d be. She’d worn it in soft curls that night, probably in an attempt to look glamorous for the party. There’d been no need for the effort. She’d have been stunning even if her hair was concealed under a hat, or completely shaved off. Not that I’d ever tell her that. I’d never suggest anything which would take away any of the elements that were making the moment so perfect.

  Her lips, rounded cushions of softness, pressed up against mine. Her skin, bronzed and glowing in the warm light of the street lamp, a lovely contrast to my paleness. Our already slightly ragged breaths quickened in unison as my free hand cupped her face in place, pulling her close to me. Her hands stretched up to my back, pulling me in even closer.

  After so many months of longing, the real life act of kissing Nora was a gazillion times better than I’d dreamt it would be. Better than

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