The guy got held up by a woman holding a toddler in one arm and a folded push chair in the other. She was giving him a piece of her mind, in colorful language.
The train began to screech as it approached the next station. Rory made ready to leave. Every cell in her body objected.
“Take my bag,” she blurted. She checked her pocket. Her keys and phone were there. It was all she needed. “I’ll take yours. I’m getting off at this stop anyway.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “And then?”
“Meet me at the Coffee Wagon on Paddington station, eight thirty tomorrow morning. We’ll swap back then.”
He shook his head. Then looked down the carriage again. “Okay, but quickly, and leave as soon as you can.”
The tube train entered the station.
Rory gripped her by the collar on her jacket.
Her breathing stopped.
“Be careful.” The intensity in his eyes floored her.
Why was it such a big thing to him? Eventually, she nodded.
They swapped bags.
She paused when she felt the weight of the bag. Her stomach instantly felt leaden. “It’s not drugs is it?”
If it was, she was out of there. Drugs had played a big part in the way her life had played out so far and she never wanted to see or hear about them again. The thought that she might actually be going to cart some around inadvertently by offering to help him out made her blood run cold.
Rory shook his head. “No. Computer data. I want to keep it private. That’s all you need to know.” His eyes flickered, reassuring her.
It was good enough for her. The train doors opened and she headed out without looking back. She darted across the platform and up the stairs, her heart racing as she urged herself through the crowd, well aware they—whoever they were—could jump off the tube train before it pulled away again, if they’d seen the swap.
She glanced down at the bag in her hand, clutching it tightly as she jogged up the escalator. What was in the bag? She wanted to know but forced herself to wait until she was outside and well clear of the tube station.
It was raining. She pulled up her collar and headed down the street. Pausing under a streetlight she opened the bag. It held around a dozen USB sticks and what looked like two computer hard drives. One of the USB sticks had a red sticker on it. Otherwise they were pretty nondescript. Data? Whatever was on there Rory really didn’t want those other guys to get hold of it. What the hell could it be?
Dizzy and high because she’d acted so impetuously, she bit her lip. She couldn’t make sense of what she’d done for him, but it meant she’d see Rory again. She had bait. Then she would show him she wasn’t “kiddo” any more, and he’d regret treating her as if she was.
CHAPTER TWO
Rory watched Sky flitting up the stairs as the train pulled out of the station, straining to keep sight of her for as long as he could. She looked hot. Really hot. He liked the idea of seeing her again.
It had been weird and oddly fascinating. Her help wasn’t really needed, but it did mean there was absolutely no risk of his hacker kit getting into the wrong hands.
The crowd had shifted. Both Jackson and Dino were right by his side.
“Give me the kit,” Jackson demanded, as he came face to face with Rory.
“No.” Rory towered over him.
Jackson was built like a brick shithouse though and wasn’t fazed. He reached out and grasped Rory’s elbow.
“Watch the jacket,” Rory said, enjoying the situation now his kit was safe.
“Excuse me!” A woman elbowed Jackson in the chest.
“Sorry lady,” Rory said, “he has no manners.”
Jackson glared at him. Rory smiled.
“Hand over the kit.” Jackson stared down at the bag in Rory’s hand.
“Our business is over.”
“I had the gym watched. I know you collected your kit from the locker.”
Rory shrugged. “Think what you like. I haven’t got it.”
As soon as the train hit the next station, Rory slung Sky’s bag over his shoulder and moved toward the door, falling into step with several other commuters leaving the train. Jackson and Dino followed. He smiled as he hopped out onto the platform, safe in the knowledge the bag wasn’t the one they wanted.
Jackson glanced around as the crowd disappeared up the escalators.
A few people waited for the next train further down the platform.
Rory leaned up against a pillar and gestured with the backpack. “If you don’t believe me, check my bag.”
There was a perverse pleasure in handing over the bag and waiting for them to look like a bunch of idiots, but he had to wonder how it would turn it out. What the hell did she have in her bag that she didn’t mind handing it over?
Jackson snatched the bag off Rory, undid the zipper and poked about inside.
Rory noticed an Anarchy pin on the side of the bag and smiled to himself. The contents might not be so amusing though. His mind threw out images of girly stuff like make up and memorabilia, or worse still tiaras and tampons. Sky wasn’t the tiara toting type—or at least she hadn’t been, although she had changed—but the tampons were a distinct possibility. A photo of a boyfriend would make them pause. The thought threw him. He realized he didn’t want her to have a boyfriend. She probably did have though. She was hot. Why wouldn’t she have guys all over her? There’d been a flirty look about her, took him right back to the old days when he’d nearly fucked his youngest stepsister.
He’d left all that behind.
Why had she turned up right then, he wondered, and why did it make him hard for her so quickly? They’d been jammed together in the tube train, that’s why. Whatever, it was worth it to keep his hacker kit out of their hands. He should have destroyed it months ago, as soon as he decided to go straight. It’d been collecting dust in a locker at the gym he used. Jackson must have paid the receptionist to feed info back. Jackson guessed where Rory had stashed his stuff months back, and what he wanted was the locker code. Rory wouldn’t put it past him to ramraid the gym and take all the bloody lockers.
“What the fuck?” Jackson plucked a notebook out of the bag and flicked through it. It was plain enough on the outside but from the looks of it the pages were covered in drawings, doodles or suchlike. Rory didn’t want to crane his neck and look clueless.
Jackson shot him a suspicious glance. Grabbing out what looked like a lipstick he gestured at Rory with it. “This isn’t your stuff.”
Rory took the item from his hand, removed the lid and wound it up. He brought it to his lips and made a pout.
“Tosser.” Jackson gestured at him.
It was good to see Jackson fazed. Rory was about to put the lipstick in his pocket when the smell of it hit him. It was strawberry scented. Hell, that took him back. Sky always wore this stuff and it reminded him of stolen kisses and what it felt like to hold her in his arms, his cock hard and warning bells going off his head. He stared down at the lipstick, remembering.
“Weirdo.” Dino, Jackson’s sidekick, stated.
Rory shrugged it off.
Jackson pointed, stabbing the air with one finger. “I’ll be watching, waiting. I’ll get your precious kit.”
“Not if I destroy it first.”
Jackson scoffed a laugh. “You wouldn’t dare. Too valuable.”
Rory shook his head. It’s exactly what he intended to do. “Consider this, even if you did get hold of it you wouldn’t know what to do with it.”
Jackson glared at him, as did Dino. They couldn’t deny it though. One without the other was nigh on useless. Two years earlier he’d wanted Rory and his hacker kit. At the time Rory, Sean and Draco had needed funds. When they hit London they’d had little more than their motorbikes and their hacker skills. Now Rory had a good job and somewhere to live. He wanted to go straight, but Jackson didn’t want to let him go.
“I know people who could figure it out,” Jackson said.
Rory
didn’t doubt it. Jackson had a big mouth. It meant he was no longer the only interested party. Along the platform, a community police officer was chatting with tourists. Both of them noticed his proximity at the same time.
Jackson threw the bag back. “You owe me.”
Rory caught the bag easily and shook his head. “I owe you nothing.”
“I’ll get it. It’s only a matter of time.” Jackson turned away, Dino quickly falling into step behind him.
That grin made Rory suspicious. He began to wonder if Sky had been following him as well. Was she working for someone?
Why hadn’t he been cautious when she’d popped up out of nowhere? Because she was flirting with you and you liked it, idiot. Had Sky actually suggested the swap because she wanted the bag—and was she working with Jackson or someone else? He thought back over what she’d said. She’d nearly thrown the bag back in his face when she thought it had drugs in it. No, she didn’t know what it was. If she did, she wouldn’t have bothered pretending to care. Unless it was a good act. She was clever, devious even. Always had been. Little Miss Trouble, he’d called her.
Weaving through the crowd in the tube station he headed for another rail line and jumped on the train headed home. As he traveled he ran through the conversation with Sky. Would the girl he’d known back at home in Cadogan have succumbed to Jackson’s persuasion? She wasn’t likely to be working for the police or any other investigation group, but Jackson had a loose mouth and had bragged about the hacker tools he had access to. Could someone have targeted her, paid her to get in touch with him? The idea unsettled him.
Once he got home to the house he shared with three other guys, he headed for his room and shook the contents of her bag out onto his bed. Flicking through the notebook he saw numerous sketches, tiny detailed drawings of London scenes. How long had she been in the city? And why was she there in the city, and on the train. He couldn’t shake the suspicion that she was working for Jackson, or maybe someone else he’d pissed off. He’d soon find out.
Poking through the other items, he lifted the lip gloss and took off the top.
Closing his eyes, he breathed in the scent.
He pictured her mouth, those full, lush lips, and he remembered what it felt kissing her. They’d driven each other mad, that one hot summer they shared house. Whenever he worked on his motorcycle in the back yard, she’d hang out in a bikini top and frayed denim shorts that barely covered her shapely behind.
He’d wanted her. Badly.
Sky, the forbidden one. The reason he’d left Wales.
* * * *
“Hey Sky, want to come in for a coffee?” Jamie called down the corridor as Sky made her way to her door.
“Love to, but I’ve got urgent stuff to do.” Sky waved at her neighbor, and grappled with her keys, dying to get into her private space for a closer look at the contents of Rory’s bag.
Jamie nodded and watched as she made her way inside the one room she currently called home. Jamie, who’d introduced himself moments after she moved in, was one of the few people she’d met in London who she could call a friend. He’d told her the best places to hang out, the cheapest places to eat, and he always gave her a free beer when she went to the club where he worked as a barman.
Once she got inside she chucked Rory’s bag on the futon, switched on the TV for company, grabbed an apple, then sat down and examined the contents of the bag.
Just as he’d said, it was all computer stuff. There weren’t any personal items at all, which disappointed her.
Sky counted out the USB sticks and then turned the hard drive over in her hands. Why was it so important to him? It fascinated her. He’d been desperate enough to take her up on her offer to swap bags. He definitely hadn’t wanted those other guys to find it on him. Was he involved in something? Rory used to make money fixing up motorbikes. He had a knack with computers too, and back at home in Cadogan he’d often fixed peoples PCs for cash. Was this precious cargo part of some exciting project he had on the go? The idea made her pulse pace a little faster.
Kiddo. That husky voice and that soft Irish brogue of his echoed in her mind. She’d never tire of listening to him. He always used to call her that, kiddo. She still wanted to get on a level with him, prove she wasn’t a kid. Two years in London hadn’t changed that, thankfully. I found you, my sexy Irish biker.
Rory, Sean and their dad had been headed to London when they stopped in North Wales and Rory’s dad met Sky’s mum. Rory was suddenly a full time feature in their home. After less than a year, he took off with Draco and Sean. Not before she’d got the serious hots for Rory though.
It used to make her pant with lust when he slouched through the door, dressed in leather with a pocket full of cash from who knew where. They were both rebels at heart. Rory had represented bad behavior to her and she’d gravitated to him, much to his annoyance—he never played by the rules back then—but he’d always been more subtle about it than she’d been. Her aim had always been to annoy her mum. Rory was the clever one. They’d been forced to play happy families, but he’d been surly and impatient around her, like she was the little stepsister who got in his way when he was trying to work on bikes or computers. He’d rejected her, and it still smarted.
She looked at the marked USB. No data label. Just the small red dot in one corner, looked like it was indelible pen.
She lounged back on the futon, clutching it to her.
He’d held it.
Moaning softly, she pressed the small box harder to her chest, thinking about him. Two years in London had changed him, physically. The swagger that defined him was still there but it was more contained. He looked older, and he was bigger built, where he’d been leanly muscled before he was beefy shouldered, and confidently sure of himself.
Kiddo. How cool would it be to make him regret that, to discover she was a woman now, not a kiddo? Sky smiled. Very cool.
CHAPTER THREE
The following morning Rory stepped onto the escalator leading from the tube station into Paddington Station and wondered why the hell Sky had suggested eight thirty. It was the worst time in the world to be traveling in London, the time when all those going to be late for work turned rabid. It was every man for himself. Getting through Paddington Station during the morning rush-hour commuter chaos was his idea of hell.
Right about now he’d usually be traveling to work on his motorbike. He only hit the tube when absolutely necessary—or, in the case of the day before, if he might need to shake someone off in the crowds. He’d always done everything within his power to avoid the morning rush hour, including getting up before dawn broke. Now, he was stuck in his own personal hell because he’d trusted his stepsister to hide a crucial piece of data he couldn’t risk losing.
Frustrated with the crush of bodies, he sidestepped the queue of people standing on the escalator and jogged up the left-hand side with the fitness freaks, eager to get his bag back.
What if Sky didn’t turn up? It’d occurred to him as soon as he awoke that morning. She probably offered to swap out of mischief, but maybe she’d suss out his bag was worth more than hers and decided not to turn up. He didn’t have any contact numbers. Outside of using Facebook, or getting in touch with mutual friends in Cadogan, which he didn’t want to do, he was reliant on her fulfilling the deal.
Weirdly, the prospect of not seeing her again irritated him as much as the thought of losing his bag of tricks. He pushed through the crowds at the top of the escalators and walked through the vast station foyer, scanning the area for coffee kiosks.
Then he saw it, the Coffee Hut, all decked out in shades of gold and brown. Evidently it was popular. The line of people waiting was at least a dozen strong. Presumably she picked up a coffee here at eight thirty on her way to...where? He frowned when he realized he didn’t even know what Sky was doing in London.
Rory stationed himself close to the coffee kiosk and looked across the approaching crowds for the face he wanted to see. Sky wasn’t tall. It was
going to be tough to pick her out of the crowd during rush hour. After a few moments he grew impatient and walked out in front of the coffee kiosk, standing off to one side to avoid being mistaken for one of the desperate caffeine addicts waiting in line. Half of them were hunched over and looked as if they’d been out on the lash the night before and needed a hit to get them to their desks. Not bad for a Thursday morning.
“Hey.” His attention was drawn to the voice behind him. “What can I get you?”
Rory turned to decline service, and did a double take. It was Sky. The rendezvous was here because she was working behind the counter.
She leaned toward him and winked. “It’ll be on the house.”
“In that case, yes.”
She assessed him. “Are you still an espresso man?”
Nowadays Rory’s morning beverage was a spoonful of whatever gravel was in the cupboard at the motorcycle repair shop where he worked. If he was lucky, George, the owner of the workshop, had restocked. More often than not he went without until the local greasy spoon cafe opened up and then it was hot, sweet teas all round.
The guy at the head of the coffee queue eyeballed him accusingly, like he’d jumped queue.
Rory eyeballed him back. “Sure, espresso man, that’s me.”
Sky smiled. “I’ll be on my break in five minutes.”
Of course he wanted to wait for her, but he had his priorities. “You’ve got my gear?”
She reached under the counter and lifted his bag, showing it to him.
He nodded, satisfied.
She tucked it away again and then went to the fancy coffee machine, working fast, rapidly producing an espresso.
Two other baristas dealt with the ongoing queue and one of them looked at him suspiciously. Rory didn’t want her to get in trouble, so he accepted the tiny cardboard cup from her hand and stepped away, stationing himself at a nearby information screen where he could keep an eye on events at the kiosk.
Rory Page 2