“No?” he asks, disbelief written all over his face. “Enlighten me. I’ve got all day.”
Knowing that there’s no way out of this now, I sit back in my seat and reluctantly give him the basics of the situation with Kas.
“Well, that’s quite a story,” he says after a few seconds of silence once I’ve finished. “You need to talk to Zach. She’s clearly not going to do it.”
No shit.
“I know,” I agree. “I’m heading there next.”
“So… is she pretty?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye.
I roll my eyes at him. “Gramps, she’s ten years younger than me. She’s basically a kid.”
“And yet, she’s not. She’s an adult, and as far as I’m concerned, age is just a number. You’re only as old as how you feel.”
“Around her, I feel as if I’m ancient,” I mutter.
“Nonsense.”
“She’s Zach’s sister. She’s off-limits,” I say, much like I did earlier—which he chose to ignore.
“That may be so, but I’ve not seen that look on your face when you talk about her for a lot of years. It would be a shame to see it go to waste.”
“And, I think that’s my cue to leave.” I push to stand, ready to say goodbye, but as I get closer, he snatches up my hand, making me look at him.
“Stop being so scared. History doesn’t always repeat itself.”
I open my mouth to ask how he knows that, but I know it’s pointless. I’ll just get the same words he always says.
Stop writing things off before you’ve even given them a chance.
“Yeah, I know,” I say weakly, hoping it’ll get him off my case.
“Be honest with Zach. He’ll appreciate hearing it now rather than later.”
“Thanks, Gramps. Same time next week?”
“You got it. Unless you’re otherwise engaged, of course.” He winks, and a small part of me dies at what he’s suggesting.
“Bros over hoes, Gramps. Bros over hoes,” I mutter as I make my way out, much to his amusement.
I say goodbye to Maureen, who gives me a knowing smile—I’m assuming from having eavesdropped our entire conversation.
“She sounds like a firecracker, Spike. They’re always the most fun.”
With colour staining my cheeks, I make my way out of the building and toward my bike.
I guess there’s no time like the present than to go and tell Zach all of his sister’s secrets. I guess only time will tell as to which will cause me bodily harm first.
As is almost always the case on a Monday, Rebel Ink is in darkness as I pull up in front of the building and kill the engine.
I look up to the flat above, but I don’t see any movement. A little bit of hope trickles in that he won’t be here and I’ll be able to get out of this.
I know it would make me a total pussy, but Zach’s a perceptive little fucker, and I have a feeling he’s going to see through me. I might have managed to resist so far, but fuck if I’ve not had plenty of less than admirable thoughts about his little sister, especially when her all but naked body was pressed up against mine.
“Fuck,” I mutter, pushing my key into the lock and letting myself in.
My cock swells as I think about that white lace lingerie set she was wearing last night. I assume it was meant to make her look innocent, much like the school uniform the night before. But fuck, the way she moved… that was anything but innocent.
I clear my throat as I begin to climb the stairs to his flat. I need that image out of my head before this gets out of hand.
Rapping my knuckles against his front door, I wait for a response.
Nothing.
That little bit of hope I felt outside comes rushing back.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I find his name and hit call.
He picks up after only two rings.
“Hey, man. I’m outside your place. Where are you?”
“I’ve had to come up to Manchester to sort some shit out in the studio.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I-is everything all right?” he asks, concern lacing his voice. I hadn’t meant for my words to come out sounding quite so dejected.
“Yeah, yeah. I was just calling in on the off-chance. Any ideas when you’ll be back?”
“I guess that depends on why you’re so keen to see me. You’re not about to hand your notice in, are you?” he asks lightly, but I hear the hesitation.
“What? No, never. You aren’t ever getting rid of me, man.”
“Thank fuck for that. So, you’re good, yeah?”
“Yeah, man. I’m great. I’ll see you when you’re back. Biff with you?” I ask in an attempt to take the heat off me.
“Of course. I’m not about to leave her with you horny fuckers.”
“Fuck off, man. Neither D nor I will be going after your girl.”
“And for that, I’m fucking grateful. Titch is already playing with fire,” he jokes.
“Nah, they’re perfect for each other. In a weird kind of way,” I admit. Seeing my boy so whipped by a woman has been weird. He always said he wanted something serious, but I guess my own fear of commitment meant I didn’t really think he meant it. I don’t trust women—not with my heart, anyway—and I kind of thought he was the same. Clearly not.
“Weird, yeah. That’s one way to put it. Listen, I’ve gotta go, man. I’ll see you in a couple of days, yeah?”
“You got it.”
We hang up, and I rest back against the wall, kicking myself for being a pussy and not just telling him.
There’s something fucking wrong with me.
Seeing as I’ve now got a house guest, I stop off at a shop on the way home to pick up food and other bits she’s probably going to expect. I even go to the extent of getting her some girly toiletries, seeing as I noticed she’s yet to litter my bathroom with the shit. I can only assume, knowing where she came from, that she didn’t have any.
I grab something for dinner and a new bottle of Jack before heading to the checkouts.
Stupidly, I didn’t think anything of it all day, but as I push the key into the lock of my flat, I’m suddenly very aware that she could have ignored my final warning.
I tell myself I’m just being paranoid. Kas might be many things, but I don’t think stupid is one of them.
“Kas,” I call the second I have the door open.
I look around the room, which is exactly as I left it earlier, minus her.
“Kas?” I ask again, dumping the bags in my hand on the kitchen counter.
My heart sinks as I push her bedroom door open and find it empty.
“Fuck,” I bark, racing to the bathroom, followed by my bedroom on the off-chance this is another of her seduction techniques and she’s naked on my bed. I find her in neither place, and I start to panic.
Zach will fucking kill me if I brought her here to protect her and still managed to get her hurt.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I unlock it and open my contacts.
I haven’t got her fucking number.
Furious with myself that I never bothered asking for it, I immediately pull up Titch’s name and call him in the hope Danni will have her number, seeing as they’re technically sisters.
It takes longer than I would like and more explaining than I have time for, but eventually I get her number along with a grilling from Titch about not telling Zach yet.
I know he’s right. I should have just told him on the phone, but I didn’t, and now here we are.
I hang up the second he rattles the number off to me and immediately dial it.
It rings and rings as I pace back and forth through the living area and kitchen, trying to dispel the dread that’s sitting heavier and heavier in my stomach with each passing second.
Eventually, her voicemail kicks in and I hang up. I figure that there’s no point in leaving one asking if she’s okay when she clearly can’t answer the fucking thing.
My fingers grip my phone painfu
lly as I try to figure out what to do.
She’s probably fine, a little voice in my head tries to convince me. But no matter how many times I hear the words, I don’t believe them for a second.
I told her not to leave.
I told her not to fucking leave, yet once again she’s done the fucking opposite.
My teeth grind as my nails dig into my palms.
What the fuck am I meant to do? Watch the news and wait to hear that a young woman’s body has been found dead in the fucking Thames?
Falling onto the sofa, I try to come up with a plan, but short of searching the city with a population of somewhere near nine fucking million for one girl, all I can think is that I’m just going to have to wait.
Aside from Danni and Zach, I have no idea who any of her friends are… or where she hangs out, that’s not the squat or the club.
That thought causes a lightbulb to go off. I call Pulse and ask to speak to Dakota, but she quickly assures me that she’s not seen or heard from Kas since she terminated her employment the previous night.
I could go back to the squat, but then what if she turns up back here perfectly fine while I’m gone?
“Fucking hell.” Why did I get involved in the first place?
It would have been so much fucking easier just to walk out of Pulse on Friday night and forget that I ever saw her there.
Sitting forward, I drop my elbows to my knees and shove my fingers through my hair.
This whole thing is a fucking disaster waiting to happen.
The clock on the wall ticks, taunting me with every second that passes and I don’t know if she’s dead or alive.
Dramatic? Possibly. I’ve no idea who that guy was the other night, or really why he’s after Kas aside from wanting money, but one thing I do know is that his threat is real.
He was dangerous, I could sense it. I could see it in her eyes.
It must be well over two hours later when a key is pushed into the lock and the door is shoved open.
I’m on my feet in seconds.
I’m expecting her to walk in and wonder what the hell is wrong with me. That all of my stress has been unwarranted. But the second I get a look at her, I discover that I was very, very right to be concerned.
“Kas,” I breathe, racing toward her.
“I’m fine,” she argues.
“Fine?” I spit, allowing her to step farther into the flat and close the door behind her. I take in the bruises that are already colouring her face and the swelling around her eye. “You’re black and blue. And fucking bleeding.” Lifting my hand, I brush my thumb beneath her bottom lip to wipe away a trail of blood.
“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Bullshit.” I follow her as she makes her way to the kitchen, dumping her bag on the counter.
“It was just a warning.”
“Words are a warning, Kas. Someone raised a fucking hand to you. That’s more than a warning.”
She sighs, reaching for the drinks cupboard.
“No,” I bark, my fingers wrapping around her upper arm and pulling her back to face me. “Tell me what happened. Why did you leave?”
She hesitates for a second, but in the end her lips part. “I just went to meet a friend. The one I lived with. To tell her what had been happening and why I’d suddenly abandoned her.”
“I told you not to leave,” I seethe.
“Yeah, well. I did.”
My teeth grind as I stare at her.
“It was fine. We had coffee, and then right before I went to get in an Uber to come back, some guy grabbed me.”
“Him?”
“No, one of his goons. He just reminded me that Jet is waiting. Made sure I’m not going to forget anytime soon.” She gestures to her face and something explodes inside me.
“This is fucking bullshit, Kas,” I bellow, the volume making her wince. I knew I should have called the police to stop it getting this far.
11
Kas
I don’t need to see Spike’s wild, fury-filled eyes, or hear his angry tone, to know that I fucked up today. I can feel it.
“Spike,” I sigh.
“No. Don’t fucking Spike me. I’ve been sitting here for hours, wondering if you were dead in a fucking ditch somewhere, and how the hell I was going to explain to your brother that I allowed it to happen.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“No? I’m meant to be protecting you,” he shouts, making me rear back again.
“I never asked you to. You were the one who dragged me here. I was perfectly happy with my old life.”
“Happy? Living in a squat and running from some fucking drug lord or whatever the fuck he is? Yeah, sounds like a great fucking life, Kas.”
“Fuck you, Spike. I don’t judge you.”
He laughs, but it’s low and menacing. “No? You judge me every time you fucking look at me. You think I’m easy, that I’m a man-whore. That’s the reason you keep throwing yourself at me, right? You’re testing me.”
All the words I want to say to him stick in my throat as I stare into his dark eyes.
“Exactly,” he spits when I fail to find a response. “Come on.” His fingers wrap around my wrist, and I gasp in pain.
Lifting my hand, he pulls my sleeves up and stares down at the dark bruising that’s forming from where that arsehole held me.
“Motherfucker,” he grunts, but instead of him walking off and expecting me to follow, my feet are suddenly lifting from the ground.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Shut up, Kas.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m fucking telling you to.”
“And what if I don’t?” I sass, unable, even now, not to taunt him.
“I’ll make you.”
I pull my head from where it was resting against his shoulder in shock, but when I look into his eyes, all I find is desire staring back at me.
My stomach clenches as heat races between my thighs. The need to keep defying him, to keep talking back fills me just so I can find out what it is exactly he’ll do to keep me quiet.
Just as I’m about to part my lips to respond, he releases me.
The second I’m placed on the edge of my bed, I miss his contact. A shiver runs through me as he steps away, taking his warmth with him.
“Stay there.”
My sudden coldness is forgotten the second I watch his denim-clad arse walk out of my room. My blood damn near reaches boiling point as my imagination goes into overdrive.
By the time he’s come back, I’ve shed my hoodie and am sitting in my skirt and t-shirt. The fabric has risen up my thighs, exposing almost all of my legs, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he lowers to his knees before me and drops his supplies to the floor.
“What are you—” His dark eyes look up at me through his lashes, and my words falter.
“I’m fucking looking after you. What do you think I’m doing?”
I watch silently as he dips a cotton ball into a small bowl of water and lifts it to my face.
I want to back away, to tell him not to bother. No one’s ever done this for me before, not even Mum in her more lucid times. But I’m powerless to resist and stay exactly where I am, waiting for him to clean me up.
It might only be a cotton ball, but I can’t help flinching when it connects with my cut lip.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he whispers, thinking that he hurt me.
How do I even begin to explain that the pain is nothing? I’m used to the pain. It’s his soft, caring actions that are affecting me more.
His eyes hold mine, despite the fact that he should probably be looking at what he’s doing. I feel like he’s trying to tell me something without actually saying the words, but I can’t quite get a read on him.
“I’m so fucking mad at you right now,” he finally grates out, breaking the almost unbearable silence that had fallen between us.
The overwhelming need to apologise to him
comes over me, but I bite the words back. I don’t owe him one. I’m my own woman and make my own choices. Okay, so today’s choices may not have been the best, but I needed to see my friend, and it’s not like I wasn’t aware that Jet and his goons wouldn’t be far behind. Sadly, it’s currently a very real and almost normal part of my life.
I let out a sigh and drop my shoulders, suddenly exhausted from the day’s events.
Spike never once takes his eyes off me. It’s as unnerving as it is comforting.
“I’m fine,” I say in what I hope is a reassuring tone.
“That’s not the point, Kas.”
“No? So what is the point?”
“I… I want to keep you safe.” His voice is quiet, like he doesn’t really want to say the words out loud.
“Why? Because you think it’s what my brother would want?”
“Trust me, your brother wouldn’t be too impressed with my thoughts right now.”
“Oh?” I ask, tilting my head to the side, causing his hand to fall from my lip, the ball dropping from his fingers as he lowers it.
“How much does it hurt?” he asks, cupping my jaw and very gently rubbing his thumb over where that fucker hit me.
“Not enough to stop me from doing anything.”
His eyes search mine as if he’s trying to find a reason to put an end to this, to back away, but I fear we’re both already in too deep.
When his gaze drops to my mouth, I can’t help running my tongue along my bottom lip. I swallow the gasp I want to let out when I hit the cut and the taste of copper fills my mouth.
His own tongue sneaks out to match my own. The sight has my heart racing and my fingers twisting in the sheets beneath me.
His eyes drop once more and he locks onto something on my t-shirt.
“W-what?” I ask, wondering what’s so exciting about the white fabric.
“Blood. You’ve got blood on your…”
Ripping my eyes from his, I glance down to see that he’s right.
Without thinking, I wrap my fingers around the hem and pull it up and over my head.
“Jesus, fuck,” Spike barks, standing from his crouched position on the floor.
I follow his line of sight to find purple bruises on my ribs.
Defy You: A Brother's Best Friend/Age Gap Romance (Rebel Ink Book 3) Page 9