Edge of the Blade (Bryant Rockwell Book 4)

by Jacky Gray

  “Shut up, Luke. Just shut up.” Jude couldn’t cope with any more guilt; he didn’t say anything she hadn’t plagued herself with since the plan hatched. She could only sell it to herself by believing no one else understood; that she was being hard-done-to – by her parents, her friends, everyone around her. By taking away all her bogey-men, he’d shown her up for the spoiled, selfish brat she really was.

  For the first time in her life, Jude truly understood the “fight or flight” reaction. She was torn between running as far as she could, or giving Luke a mouthful about why he couldn’t see it from her point of view – a total lie. In the end, the stresses of the past week caught up with her, and she did a very un-Jude-like thing, bursting into tears for the second time in a few hours.

  Luke gazed at her for a moment, then shook his head. Pulling her into his arms, he stroked her hair until she worked it through.

  Secure in his arms, and his love, she whispered her shame. “I’m just a selfish brat, only thinking of myself and to hell with anyone else.”

  “You’re crazily single-minded, but you have to be, especially around competition time.”

  “No, you’re right. I shouldn’t have involved you …”

  “You didn’t. I’m here by choice.”

  “… and I should tell my folks now. If I leave it ’til tomorrow, Mum might not spot the text in time.”

  “Hang on a sec, don’t get carried away. Slow down and let’s think it through.” He led her to a bench and they sat under a flashing shop sign advertising “The best holiday deals.” A couple of blokes stood in a cloud of smoke outside a doorway with a neon sign flashing “Snooker Club.”

  He took her hand. “Where do they think you are now?”

  “On a sleepover; at least Mum does. Dad’s probably still in London; he had to go on a training course.” She couldn’t meet his eye. No part of her was proud of lying to her mum.

  “Aha, it all falls into place. What happens if you call her now? Your mum’s on her own with Megan and she’ll spend the night worrying.”

  “She’s gonna worry anyway when she finds out.”

  “But at least she’ll have had a decent night’s sleep.”

  “Luke Harper, you are totally brilliant.”

  “Hang on. I haven’t thought it through. If you call her tomorrow …”

  “I’d have to speak to her and get all the worrying up close and personal. Not quite what I had planned.”

  “No, what you need is guilt-free communication. But you reckon she doesn’t always check texts.”

  “Nope. She refuses to be ruled by a mobile phone.”

  “You could send a detailed text tomorrow morning, then text your landline telling her to check her phone.”

  “That wouldn’t work; she still might not check the answerphone.”

  “It doesn’t use it. The phone rings and a pre-recorded voice reads out the words. Even if she misses the call, she’ll probably check her mobile. She’ll get the details without you having to incur her wrath.”

  “Who’s swallowed a dictionary?”

  “If you’re going to sit there and take the piss …” Luke glanced over as the door to the club opened and a couple of guys with long thin boxes walked out and hurried off.

  “Sorry.” She touched his arm. “Are you sure about the phone thing?”

  “Yeah. Pete does it to wind me up. He thinks it’s funny when the computer voice tries to pronounce some of his text shorthand.”

  “Perfect. Sounds fantastic. And she won’t have to worry all night long. Sorted.” She grabbed his face with both hands and plonked a kiss squarely on his lips. “Luke Harper. Number one fix-it merchant.”

  He grinned, basking in her gratitude while she deposited appreciative little kisses all over his face. When she stopped, he had to burst her bubble. “Of course, she might call your mobile straight away. Not to put a damper on your adulation in any way, shape or form.”

  She was on a high. “So I just don’t answer. Or switch it off. Or even have the courage to face up to her.”

  “Or him?”

  “Who, Dad?”

  “You know; the one who banned you from this competition.”

  “Technically speaking, he didn’t ban me, just refused to drive.”

  “Oh, that makes all the difference. He’s sure to be perfectly happy about you running away on your own …”

  “But I’m not. My big bad lawless boyfriend kidnapped me.” On a high, Jude overacted for England. “He forced me into it, your honour.”

  Luke’s whole attitude changed: He slouched back into the seat, his expression grim. “Yeah, I guess we’d better make the most of this night. It’ll probably be the last time I’m allowed to see you outside school. He might even get a restraining order.”

  “Are you kidding? When I tell him how you followed me here and rescued me …”

  “Oh, yeah. He’ll want to hear every last little detail of your dangerous adventure, then blame it all on me.”

  “But that’s not fair, I didn’t even tell you …”

  “All he will care about is that we spent the night in the same room. Let alone the same bed.”

  “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” She stamped her foot.

  “Yeah, we’re in the brown stuff alright. Right up to our necks. Pooh.”

  “What? Oh, stop it. That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

  ~*~

  “Everything alright over here? From where we’re standing, it looks like you two are having a big break-up.”

  Luke had been so angry at the idea of losing Jude because of her dad’s prejudice, he’d not registered the two men approaching. He reacted instinctively. “We’re fine. It’s none of your business.” Instant regret.

  The guy who’d spoken looked amused, but the other one was obviously drunk and looking for some kind of fight. “Oooh, hear that, Phil. Fighting talk. I think I’d like to hear the little lady say it for herself.” He stabbed a finger at Luke. “You look like the kind of animal who beats up women.” With a lecherous leer, he addressed Jude. “Are you ok, sweetheart?”

  Jude nodded nervously, looking as though she wanted to throw up, as the guy continued.

  “I saw the way you were all over him. I think you’re much too good for a shit like him. How would you like to be all over a real man?”

  Her glance pleaded desperation. Luke weighed up the options; he’d learnt a trick or two about dealing with idiots like this, but didn’t want to push it. Clenching fists, he squared up to the guy.

  The door to the club burst open, and a gang poured out, chanting “EN–GA–LAND, EN–GA–LAND, EN–GA–LAND”.

  One of them called over to their mates. “There they are. C’mon guys. Up the Rocket. Plenty of slappers up there gagging for it.”

  While their aggressors’ attention was distracted, Luke figured the odds and grabbed hold of Jude’s hand, pulling her toward an alley. Running like the athletes they were, they’d almost reached the end before they heard shouts indicating the hostile guy had noticed their absence. Luke glanced around, trying to remember the layout; thankful when he recognised a shortcut which got them back to the road leading to the station. The presence of other people meant they could slow down.

  Jude put her hands on her hips as she gulped in some air. “I don’t think they’re following us.” She shuddered. “Scary or what?”

  “Sorry, I should have kept my big mouth shut.”

  “As if. The guy was steaming. It wouldn’t matter what you said.” She cuddled his arm. “But you would have fought him for me.”

  “Oh, yeah. I would have fought that pillock, but I just ran like a girl when the rest of gang showed up.”

  “No, you ran like any smart person faced with ridiculous odds.”

  He snorted. “Seven onto two isn’t ridiculous.”

  “You can’t count me.” She stood in front of him, demanding his attention. “You may not realise this, but if you hadn’t run away and dragged me with you, I
could be being gang-raped, right now.”

  “Don’t. I can’t stand the thought of that.”

  “Come on, then. Let’s get going. It’s only a few hundred yards.”

  “You’re right. Too much excitement for one day.” Against his instincts, Luke followed her lead, but his nerves tingled at every person they passed as he examined them for potential trouble. Then they heard a familiar chant in the distance. “En-ga-land …”

  He glanced back. “Bugger. I used to know the city really well, but this area’s all changed.”

  She checked her phone. “The signal’s really bad around here; the map’s frozen like earlier.”

  “Never mind, we can ask someone.”

  “You can’t do that.”

  He fell for her automatic response. “Why not?”

  Her eyebrows did some Seven-of-Nine action. “Don’t you watch Top Gear? Real men never ask for directions.”

  Thinking it was a tease, Luke played along, grabbing her shoulders. “Are you incinerating I’m not a real man? That’s twice tonight my manhood has been challenged.”

  She was too tightly wound to figure it out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t …”

  With a grin, he pulled her to him. “Maybe I need to do something to change your mind.” As he kissed her, she melted into him.

  The chant grew louder and he broke away. “C’mon. Kissing in public gets us in trouble in this town.”

  25 More than Enough Excitement

  Jude flopped down on the bed, closing her eyes and letting out a big sigh. It had been a hell of a day so far, but somehow she’d managed to cope – with Luke’s help. She heard him exploring the place, opening drawers and cupboards. As the room door closed, she figured he’d gone to the communal bathroom.

  Finally it hit her: She was about to spend the night in the same bed as him. Which meant getting undressed in front of him. Although she didn’t have anything like the same inhibitions about her body as Kat and Liv, for the first time in her life she could understand some of what they felt. Because her sport cared about posture and lines, her athletic body was constantly under scrutiny, with fitted costumes designed to show off her curves. Thanks to her parents’ relaxed attitude to nudity, she had no problems about showing off any amount of flesh.

  Unlike her friends: Both were a little short of obsessional about not revealing a square centimetre of flesh. As she got her night things, Jude smiled at the memory of the three of them at their first sleepover. Liv with her poor self-image and Kat with her Catholic respectability.

  She glanced down at her nightwear; it wasn’t much different to a strap-top and shorts. He’d seen her similarly dressed plenty of times. A nasty voice inside her head sneered, “Who’re you kidding? In that clingy satin material, he won’t be able to keep his hands off you.”

  And what about him? If he followed her straight from school, he wouldn’t have had time to pack anything, so he’d have no choice but to sleep in his boxers. Or even in the raw. OMG. Would she have to watch him undress? He couldn’t do it in the bathroom and then walk through the house naked. Her mind ran riot with images like an advert on TV.

  She jumped as the door opened and he stood there, fully dressed.

  “C’mon Daisy Daydream. You should have gone first; you’ll take much longer than me. Bathroom’s second door on the right.”

  She grabbed her soap bag and felt her cheeks flame as she rushed past him and dived into the cool marble bathroom. It was like something from a film set with a space-age shower you could sit down in, a bath big enough for two people, and a vanity unit surrounding the washbasin.

  As she went through her nightly ritual, flashbacks from the day ran through her mind. The guy on the train looking at her boobs; Kat calling her a dirty mare; the slimy git outside the snooker club saying she should try a real man and Luke saying she’d had more than enough excitement for one day. But had she, though?

  She put the pea-sized amount of toothpaste on her toothbrush and examined her feelings. How did she really feel about sharing a bed with him? Although she was absolutely sure Luke had no intention of doing any more than giving her a goodnight kiss, who could tell what would happen when they were in the same bed with no more than a few scraps of satin separating their bodies?

  Pausing for a moment with the toothbrush still in her mouth, she tried to visualise the scene. What would she do if he started running his hands over her body? Should she let him go all the way?

  With a sigh, she rinsed off the brush and shook it. Kat and Liv had so much more experience than she did. They’d both been out with a number of guys and both had an older boyfriend they’d had to stop from trying to take advantage. Jude picked up her soap bag and looked in the mirror. At fifteen, it wasn’t quite legal, but lots of girls did it and, most importantly, she loved Luke and he loved her.

  She closed the door to the room quietly, and a quick glance eliminated all her fears. He lay in bed with the covers pulled up, his bedside light switched off and hers left on. How thoughtful. After all the worrying – what an anti-climax. She slid into bed, trying to make the least disturbance she could, and clicked off the light. Almost a full minute passed, so when he finally spoke, she nearly screamed.

  “I save you from a fate worse than death, and I don’t even get a goodnight kiss?”

  “I thought you were asleep.”

  “You were supposed to. I didn’t want you to get all embarrassed about me looking at your perfect body.” He reached over and found her face with his hand, turning her toward him and guiding her lips to his.

  What happened next was as natural as breathing; all her fears about her lack of experience vanished as he gently stroked her shoulders. She jumped as his hand grazed over her breast; the thrill shooting through her body was like nothing she’d ever felt before.

  “Sorry, did that hurt?” His whispered words held concern. “I didn’t mean to ...”

  “No, it was amazing.”

  “You mean you’re enjoying this?” The lazy smile in his voice turned her on as much as his touch, but she couldn’t resist the tease.

  “No, it’s horrible; you must stop now.” Her words broke his mood like a bucket of cold water.

  He pulled away. “I’m sorry, I only meant to kiss you goodnight.”

  “I’m kidding.”

  “Glad to hear it. Look, you’ve got a big day tomorrow; probably the biggest of your life so far. And if you feel anything like as tired as I do, you’ll need some proper sleep.” He kissed her lightly on the lips, taking care not to make any bodily contact. “Goodnight babe. Te amo.”

  She smiled at the idea of him learning Spanish. “Te amo, Luke. I love you, too. Goodnight.”

  26 Ice Foul

  Following Luke’s advice, next morning Jude did her best, texting her mum’s mobile and the landline at eight-thirty. Although it was much earlier than her mum would normally get up on a Saturday, Jude figured she’d have to leave fairly early if they did want to get there.

  “It’s a total cop-out, really. I ought to have the guts to speak to her face-to-face.” Jude put the phone down, her face grim.

  “Tricky.” Luke beckoned her over for a hug.

  “You know what I mean. I guess I deserve being shouted at.” She buried her face in his solid shoulder.

  “Certainly do. But it wouldn’t help your state of mind on this particular Saturday morning.”

  “OMG, Luke. It’s Saturday morning. You should be at work. You’ll be getting shouted at, too.”

  “Nah, I told him ages ago I couldn’t work today or yesterday, so I worked Thursday instead.”

  “How did you know I would still be here? After my dad threw a wobbly, surely you must have thought it was all off.”

  “You would think so, but I know you too well. Remember the sporting conference we went to? They asked if you would dump your boyfriend in favour of your sport.”

  She nodded.

  “I knew back then if push came to shove you’d choose skating ove
r me. Don’t look like that; I’m not criticizing, just stating a fact. You have to be that committed; I know this. I don’t like it, but I’m sure you’ll make the right decision for you and I’m happy to stick by it.”

  They got to the rink in plenty of time, but her run of good luck ended – the security guys were very strict on the rules. Only trainers were allowed in the competitor’s benches, and he was directed to the family stand. No amount of charm on her part could convince them he was her deputy trainer; Bernie was too well known. With a “don’t make a fuss” headshake, Luke left, mouthing the words, “Te amo, Jude.”

  An older girl, Louise, saw the wrench and invited Jude to sit with her during the interminable waits between the intense bursts of activity as they were given the instructions, then called to the ice for a group warm-up. Jude welcomed Louise’s guidance; many of the other competitors knew each other and were quite cliquey. The morning passed slowly as each girl performed the short programs, then they were allowed forty minutes for lunch. The referee posted the computer-generated order for the longer freestyle sessions; in reverse order of their marks.

  The competition was so tight only two marks separated the top five contestants. As they studied the schedule, Louise grimaced at her fifth place, confiding this was likely to be her last competition.

  Jude frowned. “But why? You looked pretty good in the short.”

  “Yeah. Only because I’ve been doing it so much longer than everyone else. I’m the oldest girl here, and I’ve never been higher than eighth before.”

  “That’s no reason to give up. What if you got in the top three?”

  “It wouldn’t matter even if I won. Next year I’ll be too old for the juniors and there’s no way I can do this professionally. I’m not good enough, and my folks aren’t prepared to throw good money after bad.”

  “But you could get a part-time job …”

  “Ain’t gonna happen. Dad’s got his heart set on me following in his footsteps. He’s put me in for the Oxbridge exam and I’ll need straight A’s in all my subjects to get on the microbiology course.”