by S. R. Jones
“You can walk away from it all,” I suggest. I doubt anyone would go after him. He has an almost preternatural reputation amongst the men he works for. They hire him and use him, but they fear him. Even Allyov, which is why I doubt this girl is a plant. I doubt the mob boss would dare do such a thing to Andrius.
“No, my friend, I cannot,” he replies heavily. “Not until it is done.”
I know he’s not what he seems, and I know he needs to get deep into Allyov’s organization, but I still don’t know the why of it all. About to ask, voices outside the door silence me. It also means I haven’t had chance to ask Andrius for that huge favor I need.
The door opens and the girl comes back in with Kate. She holds a bottle of water in one hand and pop in the other. “I didn’t know which you wanted.”
He takes the water. “This is fine.”
She nods, and then sits on the low window ledge and stares out at the rain sodden town below. Kate is watching her, concern on her face.
She can’t be more than nineteen or twenty, surely? Fuck, what the hell? A gift?
“So, your head? It is now going to be even thicker.” Andrius laughs at his joke, I try to join in, but my mind is whirring.
Kate takes something out of her bag, and I see it is a packet of chocolates. She goes over to where Violet is sat and offers her one. Violet shoots a nervous glance toward Andrius then hesitantly takes one. Either this girl is an award worthy actress or she’s young, naive, and scared to death.
Andrius sits in the spare chair and crosses his leg over his opposite knee. He’s wearing a three-piece suit, as usual. A big, steel watch sits on his wrist, and where his shirt is open slightly at the base of his neck, I see the silver cross he always wears nestled there. His shirt sleeves are rolled up, showing the impressive array of fine scars criss-crossing his forearms.
“If the police try to charge you, I can make it go away,” he intones.
Oh, no. Not the way he’d do it. “Thanks, but I think it is sorted anyway.”
“And this crazy man, is he sorted?” He leans in, menacing and dangerous. I see Kate straighten from where she’s leaning against the window. “He is so crazy he could still be dangerous even in prison. Men like him, they get followers, fanatics, who want to help them out, carry on their work. Or they hire people, to carry out attacks for them out in the world.”
I swallow because he’s right and I fucking hate that he is, and that Kate is hearing what he has to say.
“I can make him go away,” he whispers it low, slow, and deadly. Too quiet for Kate to hear over by the window I am sure, what with the hum of the air conditioning filling the room.
“Let me think about it,” I tell him, because Kate is here, but I already want to discuss that with him. The chance to be sure Kate will be safe always is too tempting. Because Duncan might see her as used goods and not want to play with her anymore, but she led him to where he is now. Beaten, broken, captured. He can decide he wants her dead anytime, and I fear Andrius is right, not even prison walls will stop him if that’s the case.
“There’s nothing to think about,” Kate interjects. She probably doesn’t even know what we are talking about, but she heard my last words, and she obviously doesn’t like Andrius with the way she’s watching him, suspicion written all over her face.
“As you wish.” Andrius inclines his head but then turns his ghostly gaze to me, and it says he’ll check with me again about this.
Then he’s standing and holding out his hand. The girl, Violet, gets up from the window, smooths her skirt down, and walks to him. He takes her by the wrist, his big hand wrapped around her fragile joint, and he leads her out of the door, like she’s his pet.
“Who the fuck was that?” Kate’s voice is vibrating with restrained emotion. She’s angry and scared too.
“He’s someone you leave me to deal with. He’s a dangerous, dangerous man and I want you to forget you ever met him.”
“But,” she starts.
I hold my hand up, cutting her off. “Kate, I have never told you to leave something alone, but I am telling you now, leave it alone.”
I brace myself for an argument but she merely nods. “He’s scary, Reece. I won’t say anything else on the matter but he’s not a good man, and I don’t like the idea of you mixing with him.”
“No, he’s not a good man, he’s not a bad man, either. And he is scary, so forget you ever met him and you’ll never see him again. I promise.”
She sighs but I won’t discuss this further. For her sake as well as my own.
Four days later, and I’m discharged. I need to rest for another two weeks, I’ve been told. I’ve also been given a list of warning signs to look for with regards to my kidney function, and my head trauma.
I want to be near the guys, here in Yorkshire, where I feel I can keep Kate safe. She doesn’t mind, and she comes to stay at mine. She’s got a deadline looming, and so we settle into a routine. She looks after me, and makes sure I’m comfortable, and then she goes and writes. I hear her tapping away, and like the sound of it. The noise of another person in the house, doing her own thing, but sharing my space, is soothing. It gives me a glimpse of how this might be between us.
“I’ve put some soup on.” Kate appears at the door and smiles at me. “Do you think you’ll be up for a short walk later?” she asks.
I nod. I keep getting out for twenty minutes at a time, stretching my legs. I can’t wait until I can go for a run again.
“How’s your lower back?” She’s concerned.
“Getting better every day.” My pee is getting back to a normal color now, and the pain is mostly gone. We haven’t done anything sexual, because between the kidney ache, the head pain, and the burnt leg, I haven’t felt up to it, but I can’t wait until we can reconnect in that way.
I’m not used to this, to being laid up and having to take it easy. I want to scream sometimes, but having Kate here helps. If I’d thought her presence might make me feel trapped, it does the opposite. Her being here soothes me and helps me deal with being stuck inside as I recover.
She’s loaded a ton of climbing related documentaries onto her Amazon video account and we’ve been watching those of an evening as we eat whatever she’s prepared that day.
We found we’ve both got an insane urge to try an expedition to K2 one day, which is probably a pipe dream, and will take a fuck ton of training if we ever go for it seriously. We’ve also discussed a possible week-long break, diving in the Maldives. And we’ve talked.
A lot.
I’ve learned about her unconventional, free spirited family, and I get why she’s not so bothered about having the whole white picket fence, kids, and a dog routine. Although, we both have said we’d be open to kids, we like the idea, but we both found out we’d be on the same page when it came to rearing them. Kate wouldn’t want her kids shoved into school aged four. We’d both said how we’d like to home school them when young, and travel with them.
Shit, maybe I’m a fucking hippy at heart. Kate surely is when you scratch the surface, although without the love for stinky Patchouli thank God.
“I’ll see to the soup,” Kate says, leaving the room.
As if he knows she’s left the vicinity, Andrius pops up on my burner phone screen as it starts to ring. I use it only to talk to him, and change it every few weeks.
I grab it. “Yeah.”
“Hello there. Did you find anything?” He’s referring to his gift.
“Nothing conclusive yet, but your instincts may be correct. Her identity is probably fake.”
There’s an intake of breath. I hesitated to tell him this information, knowing what it possibly means for the young woman under his…care. If I don’t though, if she is out to frame him or get information on him for Allyov, then something Andrius has been working for his whole life will be gone to waste.
I hate doing this. I also hate that even though I am on a burner phone, I’ll need to talk in semi-code. No phone is safe.
/>
“Doesn’t mean she’s working for your friend, or is one of his professionals, but it means she’s not what she seems. I think you need to be careful around her. I know they don’t erm, deal in candy, but they do have the dance clubs and you and I both know what goes on in those.” I hope he gets my drift that candy means trafficking women, which is a horrible way to put it when I think about it, and professionals means prostitutes.
“Your friend and his men might not deal in…you know, but they certainly have professionals who choose to work for them, and she might be a professional. So far, her background isn’t pointing at that. She was doing some odd bits of work for him, waitressing in some of the legitimate restaurants he runs. She did the Grey Party a few weeks ago.”
He gives me a grunt in response. There is no Grey Party but there’s a Gilded Club Roundtable meet once a year, where the room is done out in various shades of grey, the tableware even is grey. It’s supposed to be a classy, but ultra-masculine theme for the night. No women are allowed, except as waitresses. I know he’ll get the reference.
The Gilded Club, no shit that’s the fucking name, is a big-wig meet up for some influential local business men, and it’s one of those things where legitimate business meets the crime underworld. The yearly party is full of minor celebrities, tin-pot millionaires and the like, along with Allyov and some of his elder partners in crime, all above board, but deep down, as dodgy as fuck. A couple of years ago a young female journalist had a waitressing job at one of the parties, and did an expose on how many times she was touched or propositioned by local dignitaries. The head of a large city council lost his job after some of his less than salubrious exploits made the front pages.
“That fucking piece of shit party.” Andrius puts my own thoughts into words.
“Listen. Don’t do anything yet, okay? Let me do some more digging. The thing is, Andrius, her identity only starts aged ten, so my feeling is she’s possibly on the run from some threat or danger. Maybe her family were in witness protection or something? I don’t get the feeling from what I’ve found so far that she’s into anything dodgy. But, she might be on someone’s radar, which means she might pose a danger to you. Be super careful around her, until I get more info.”
He laughs. “I’m getting cameras fitted in each room in the house as we speak, while my little friend is getting a massage with Justina.” He mentions his housekeeper and I smile.
The woman is hot as the sun, but she’s into women, and she’s as hard as any man I’ve ever met underneath her glamorous exterior.
“Andrius,” I pause and listen, and hear the reassuring sounds of Kate banging about in the kitchen. She’s a good cook but she makes a ton of noise and mess when she does it. Never uses one spoon when she could use ten. I bet she’s used at least three pans to make this soup. I don’t get it, but it’s endearing so I shrug it off.
“Yes, my friend.”
“What you said about Duncan Roberts.”
“Yes.”
“He’s in jail right now, awaiting psych evaluation and some other stuff. I’ve been told it’s likely he’ll be remanded to a high security psychiatric prison while he awaits trial. Do you think he’ll be safe there?”
He laughs. “Most likely not. He’s a sadistic rapist and they can be reached anywhere. There are people who can reach anyone, anywhere.”
His answer gives me a chill, and reminds me to never get on the wrong side of him. Being friends with him is like having a tiger for a pet, you can’t turn your back, or let your guard down.
“It’s just, I’d hate for anything to happen to him before his trial, he deserves to be punished for what he did.” I mean the exact opposite of course, and the beauty of Andrius is he understands that without me having to lay it on thick in any way. If anyone overheard this conversation, they’d not be able to pick up any inflection in my tone giving any meaning to anything other than what I say outright.
“Me too, he deserves to go away for a long time, where he will be regularly tortured by his prison mates, in the way he did to those women. Still, the odds are against this. It is sad, but this is the way it is for these sick sex offenders.”
He doesn’t lie. Many of them get beaten in jail, raped, or killed. This time, though, we’re plotting the death of one as we speak.
“I better go, Kate is making me soup. Maybe you ought to get your new…friend to cook for you?”
Justina is a great housekeeper and she also sorts Andrius busy schedule, but she’s a lousy cook, beyond making a mean borscht. So whenever he throws a dinner party, which is a rare event, he gets caterers in.
He gives a low laugh. “I think the little witch might poison me.”
“Well, there’s that.”
“Speak soon, my friend.”
“Yep, take care.”
I hang up, knowing that at some point soon Duncan will meet the painful and sticky end he deserves. I don’t even feel badly about it. It means Kate won’t have to stand the indignity of a trial, and neither will his other victims, raped once by him and a second time by the court system and some asshole defense lawyer. Of course, it binds me tighter to Andrius and his murky world, which I could do without.
“Here you are.” Kate comes back into the room, with the soup.
I eat some, but with the painkillers, the antibiotics, and the ongoing swimming feeling in my head, my appetite still isn’t what it was.
She smiles at me as she takes away my still half full bowl. She doesn’t nag at me to eat more, simply keeps making delicious food, and offering me calorific things like a slice of brownie.
I hear her clattering about in the kitchen, no doubt clearing up the gazillion things she’s used to make our meal.
Then she comes back into the room, and she gets onto the sofa with me. It’s a big sectional number, wide and low, and there’s enough room for the two of us. I pull her into me and dip my head, letting myself inhale the scent of her hair, as my nose rubs against the silky strands.
“Thanks for taking care of me,” I tell her.
“Ditto,” She says.
I smile because I’m putting things in motion to do just that.
As she snuggles into my side and sighs happily, I get a warm feeling in my chest. She’s so strong, but also vulnerable. She’s in control, but submissive when it comes to sex. She’s adventurous, but laid-back. And she’s got a crazy-interesting mind. If someone had invented her, they couldn’t have done a better job.
“You know, if a person asked me to put pen to paper and write my ideal woman, I couldn’t have come up with a better you.”
She lifts her head, and her eyes shine. “Oh, Reece, that’s…” she trails off, but I see the emotion in her eyes.
I’m not good with words. I don’t use them often enough, but I use them now. I kiss her forehead.
“I love you, cupcake. And I can’t wait until we can get out of here and go climb some mountains together.”
She smiles at me. “I love you, too.”
The words don’t trap me or scare me, they curl around me and warm me. Anchoring me in the best way, allowing me to be truly free by giving me the base I need to spread my wings.
We are two wandering souls who have found a soul mate to explore this crazy world with.
Epilogue
Kate
I’m out of breath and covered in bruises, mud, and a little bit of blood where I cut my knee. I’m taking part in a race where we have to undertake a variety of challenges as we run ten kilometres.
Reece is ahead of me, but he stops and turns around. He’s covered in mud, too, but it can’t hide the glory of his physique. My God, but he’s hotter than ever. He’s actually a little leaner than he was, because he lost a lot of weight whilst recuperating. He’s put much of it back on, but is still about fifteen pounds lighter. It means he’s more cut, with a defined six pack.
Maggie, Cara, Luka, and Ethan are also taking part in the race. And they’re all ahead of me. Isla, Liam, Abi, and Mag’s p
artner, Laura, are waiting at the finish line, with an assortment of dogs, food and drink.
Liam twisted his ankle a few weeks ago, running after a man who had threatened a dignitary he was watching, which served to remind us all how dangerous the work these guys do is.
Otherwise, Liam would have been taking part, too. It’s called a Rough and Muddy challenge and it has been hard.
I’m achy and sweaty, but also exhilarated because we’re near the finish line, and I’ve done it all. Not only the ten kilometres, but the wall we had to scale, the muddy river we had to cross, the electric fence riddled field we had to navigate, and the log filled mud bath. I did it all, and now I’m close to the end.
Reece hangs back, his friends disappearing in front as he waits for me.
“Go,” I pant. “Go be with your friends. Earn your place. I’m fine.”
He smiles at me, loose and genuine and happy. “I’m fine too, right here, cupcake.” He says this with an easy grin and then kisses me, quick and fierce and hot, and I want to combust right then and there.
“Come on. One foot in front of the other, we’re nearly there.” He cajoles me forward again, and we’re jogging toward the finish line.
As we near, I see Isla jumping up and down. Abi is grinning next to her. Cara smiles at us, too. She’s more serious than the other two, but I like her. She’s an interesting person, full of ideas, and theories about life.
Isla, I took a while to warm to. Not her fault, she’s so astonishingly beautiful that whenever I’m around her, I feel inferior. It’s odd, because if you looked at the group, not knowing them, you’d put Isla with Luka. Both beautiful, both with a softness to them. But instead, Luka is with hard-headed, super intelligent Cara, and Isla is with rough-edged Ethan. And it works. Chalk and cheese and yet they fit together perfectly.
Cara’s helped me overcome some of my hang-ups about Reece and I. When I told her one night, a bit too tipsy for discretion, that I felt as if Reece was way out of my league, she burst out laughing. Her words make me smile now.