Defy You: A Brother's Best Friend/Age Gap Romance (Rebel Ink Book 3)

by Tracy Lorraine

Zach turns his blue eyes on me and sits forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

  “How much?”

  “How much what?”

  He rolls his eyes like I’m an idiot. “How much do you need to pay this guy off?”

  “I’m not telling you that. It’s not your issue.”

  “Damn it, Kas,” he snaps, making me jump. “Let me fucking help you. You don’t have to do this alone now.”

  “And what if I want to?”

  His teeth grind, his jaw popping with frustration. “Why would you? This guy is going to seriously hurt you if you don’t just pay. I can give you however much you need. Just get the fucker off your case.”

  “I’m not taking your money, Zach.”

  He opens his mouth, but no words come for a few seconds. “Fine. Work for it.”

  “What?”

  “Work. For. It.”

  “Don’t be stupid, Zach. What the hell am I going to do at your studio to earn that kind of money, aside from turning one of the back rooms into a den of tricks?” I wink so he knows what I’m getting at, and his face starts to turn purple once more.

  “Aside from that suggestion, I don’t give a shit what you do. You can clean the place every day if you like or, we could train you up.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t even try to pretend that you’re not interested. I know you always wanted to go to art school. I saw the drawing of your wings, remember? And as much as I hate to admit it, I think some of our clients would love you.”

  “You want me to be one of your artists?”

  “Why not? I pay off your debts, and you sell your soul to me instead of some drug lord cunt. Sounds like a pretty winning deal, if you ask me.”

  I sit back, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’ll think about it.”

  His eyes widen in shock. “You’ll think about it?” What the fuck is there to think about?”

  “Maybe I wanted to be a stripper, did you ever think about that?”

  “Does anyone ever really want to be a stripper?” he asks so seriously it makes me want to burst into laughter. “You’re not stripping, Kas. No fucking way.”

  “Jesus, you two are a pain in my arse.”

  “I’m your big brother, it comes with the territory. Just ask Danni.”

  “Great.”

  “I need you to do three things for me.”

  “Go on,” I say hesitantly.

  “Tell me how much you need.” I roll my eyes, but he continues nonetheless. “Do as you’re fucking told so you don’t end up in a worse state.”

  “Sure thing, Dad.”

  Zach’s teeth grind at my sarcasm.

  “And?”

  “Don’t fuck Spike. I’d hate to have to kill him for touching you.”

  I swallow nervously, but thankfully he’s too busy pushing from the sofa to notice my reaction to his words.

  “Zach, I really don’t need—”

  “Stop being so fucking independent and accept some help, Kas. Just this once. I can make this go away, so let me.”

  “Fine. I need fifty G.”

  “Fuck me, Kas. What was she snorting, gold?”

  “He’s a businessman. He knew no one else would supply her with what she needed, so he tripled the price.”

  “I’m assuming you need cash?”

  “I’m not sure any banks dish out business accounts to drug dealers and gangsters.”

  “Smart arse. I’ll get it as soon as I can, then you’ll tell me where to meet this motherfucker and we’ll get it sorted.”

  “You’re not meeting him,” I say in a rush. “I’ll do it. I’m not dragging you into this any more than necessary.”

  Zach stares at me for a beat, clearly not happy about my suggestion, but eventually, he lets it go—for now, at least.

  “We’ll talk about it once I’ve got the money. Come here.” He reaches out for me and pulls me into his arms. Unable to resist, I wrap my arms around his waist. “We’ll sort this, Kas. You’re not alone now, okay?”

  I nod against his chest. “T-thank you.”

  “It’s what I’m here for, kid. I’ll see what I can sort out for a place for you to stay, too.”

  “No, Zach. You’re already doing enough. I’m okay here.” As soon as the words leave my lips, reality hits me. Spike probably needs a paying housemate, not a scrounger. “Actually, yeah, that would be great. But the cheapest you can find, yeah?”

  “We’ll see.” He winks as he steps back. “Call me if you need me. I’m only at the other end of the phone, okay?”

  “Sure,” I agree, although I have no intention of putting anything else on his shoulders. I didn’t even want him having to deal with this.

  He walks toward the front door, but before he opens it, he turns and looks down the hallway.

  “I’m out, Spike. Sorry for the nose, but take it as a warning. Do not touch my fucking sister.” With his warning hanging in the air around us, he pulls the door open and disappears. I quickly close it behind him and lock it.

  14

  Spike

  I don’t look over as my bedroom door opens. I was expecting her, although that doesn’t mean I know what to say as she stands there, still dressed in only my t-shirt and waiting for me to respond.

  This morning has been fucked up beyond belief.

  When I said to her last night that everything would change again today, that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

  My face aches from where he hit me, and my skin burns as her stare continues.

  I can’t look at her. I can’t see the concern that I know is going to be written all over her face. I lied to one of my best friends because of her. Guilt eats at me and swirls around in my gut like an angry tornado. I should have told Zach the truth. But what good would have come of it? a little voice says. There won’t be a repeat, so just forget it ever happened.

  “Spike?”

  “Leave me alone, Kas.”

  “W-what?” she stutters, like she might have misheard me.

  “You heard me. Shut the door and walk away.” My voice is cold, harsh, and I hate it, but it’s what needs to happen.

  “But—”

  “There’s no but, Kas. I told you that last night was a one-off. A mistake that never should have happened. An error in judgement. It’s best if you forget it happened and just focus on your life.”

  “An error in judgement?” she asks, an astonished laugh falling from her. “You seemed pretty invested for an error in judgement.”

  “We all make mistakes, kid.” She gasps at the word. I know how much she hates any reference to her being young and naïve. I understand it, but I need her to back off right now so I’m more than willing to use it.

  “What if I can’t forget, Spike? What then?” she asks, her voice more hesitant than a few moments ago.

  “You don’t have a choice. Close the door on your way out.”

  An unbearable tension fills the room as she continues to stare, and I fight like hell not to look back at her.

  I might have been getting beat on by Zach, but that didn’t mean I missed how fucking hot she looked when she emerged with her messed up bed hair and my shirt skimming her thighs.

  “Fine,” she huffs after long, uncomfortable seconds, “but this isn’t over,” she warns, finally slamming the door and leaving me to my misery.

  Seconds later, hers slams so loud that the entire flat vibrates with the force.

  I can’t lie here long, I need to get myself patched up and head to work. Lifting my hand, I rub my thumb over the split in my lip. It’s a mistake, because the only image that fills my head is me doing the exact same thing to her last night.

  I was out of my mind by the time she appeared, and then to see her looking like she did, knowing that some guy had touched her, hurt her… It stirred something within me that I thought I’d locked down years ago. My need to protect, my need to keep what’s mine close and out of harm’s way just took over. And it really shouldn’t be Zach’s litt
le sister.

  “Fuck,” I whisper-shout into the silence of my bedroom.

  Dragging myself so I’m sitting, I catch sight of myself in the mirror propped up against the wall. I look a fucking mess.

  The guys at the studio are going to have a fucking field day with this.

  Pushing my hair from my eyes, I stand, grab some clean clothes, and slip down the hall toward the bathroom to shower.

  The water stings, but the warmth helps soothe my aching muscles, especially my ribs. I know he’s not broken any—they don’t hurt that bad—but shit, he really went to town.

  I understand why. If I had a little sister, I wouldn’t want her anywhere near the likes of me either.

  Kas doesn’t emerge before I swipe my keys from the kitchen counter, so I’m forced to walk to her door.

  I might not want to look at her right now for fear of even more vivid reminders of last night—my memories are already bad enough—but I need to tell her I’m leaving and attempt to get her to stay put this time so we don’t all spend the next few hours worrying about her.

  “I’m going to work. Can you do me a favour?”

  “No.” I want to laugh at her defiance, but knowing it could end up getting her killed stifles my reaction somewhat.

  “Kas, please. Just stay here while I’m gone. I don’t want to spend my entire shift worrying about you.”

  “That’s sweet and all, but I didn’t think you gave a shit.”

  My forehead hits the wood of her door. Of course I give a shit. I give a little too much of one, that’s the problem.

  “Please, Kas. For me, for Zach, for your friend, just stay here and keep the door locked. Zach’s going to make this go away. Just give him time, and then you’re free.”

  “Great, so in the meantime I’m locked up like your fucking sex slave. I don’t think so.”

  I try to shake the images of us rolling around in her bed out, to forget but I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to. Her taste is still on my tongue, and fuck if my mouth doesn’t water for another round.

  “You’re not a prisoner. We both know you can get out of this place of your own free will. I’m just asking you not to.” I don’t reference her sex slave comment for fear of me begging her to be just that.

  “Whatever. I’ll see how I feel.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but I swallow down the words. What’s the point? She’s already made it abundantly clear that she’ll do whatever the hell she wants.

  “Okay, well, I’ll probably be back about ten-ish. I’ll bring dinner.”

  I get no response, so after waiting a few seconds too long for one, I turn and walk away.

  I don’t bother double locking the door. If she wants out, she’ll just go through the window again.

  The second I’m out of the building, I’m on high alert. I know they’re waiting for her, so it seems likely that they’d have followed her back here. If Jet is the kind of man she makes him out to be, then he’ll have his assets covered at all times.

  I just have to hope he’s not desperate enough to force his way to her.

  A shudder runs down my spine at the thought of coming home to find her gone—not because she willingly walked out, but because she was forced.

  Climbing on my bike, I rev the engine and allow the vibration to flow through me, to ground me, to push everything away so I can at least attempt to focus on work for the next few hours. Pulling the helmet down hurts like fuck, and as I cuss Zach out, I tell myself that I deserved it anyway.

  The drive to the studio isn’t all that long, and it’s nowhere near enough to help clear my mind. It’s still spinning with images of last night and this morning long after I’ve parked up and pushed through the front door.

  “Whoa, what the fuck happened to your ugly face?” Titch asks the second he looks at me from his spot on the sofa in reception.

  “Do we have to?” I ask, walking straight past him and out to our little kitchen.

  “Biff’s gone for coffee,” he calls out to me.

  “Where’s Zach?”

  “No idea, upstairs maybe. D’s in his room already, if you need a full run down,” he jokes.

  “Fuck off,” I mutter when I emerge with a steaming mug of coffee.

  “Well, aren’t you in a delightful mood this afternoon. Your clients are in for a real treat.”

  I cut him with a scathing look.

  “Is this what happens when you don’t get laid?”

  “Who says I haven’t got laid?” I regret the words the second they fall from my lips.

  “The fact that you’ve got boss man’s little sister living in your flat. Unless…”

  “Whatever.” I hold up my hand to cut him off and walk down toward our rooms, ignoring mine and going straight for D.

  “Spike,” he barks behind me. “You’d better not be holding out on me, man.”

  Letting Titch’s voice fade into the background, I knock twice on the door before D calls out for me to enter.

  “Whoa, shit. I knew Kas was a feisty one, but fuck, man.”

  Rolling my eyes, I close his door behind me and fall down on the old sofa he has in the corner.

  “What the hell happened?”

  “Zach happened,” I state.

  “Oh shit.”

  “He turned up this morning and flew off the handle. I mean, I get it. I’d just stumbled out of bed and so had Kas… wearing my shirt.” I wince as I say the words.

  “Wearing your shirt. Tell me you didn’t, man.”

  My eyes stay locked on the coffee that’s being cradled by my hands.

  The silence is all the answer he needs.

  “Fuuuuuuck. I thought you were stronger than that, man.”

  “So did I. Zach doesn’t know anything happened, though. I didn’t sleep next to her.”

  “But you fucked her?” he confirms.

  “Keep your fucking voice down.” My eyes flick to the door in panic.

  “Jesus. You need to tell him.”

  “Yeah, I also kinda like my face.” He raises a brow. “It was a one off. It won’t be happening again, so it can just be forgotten.”

  “You really think that’s possible? You weren’t able to resist her for forty-eight hours.”

  “I know,” I groan, “but you didn’t see her, man. She snuck out and he got his hands on her. She looked so beautiful, so broken.”

  “You’re fucked, mate,” he says, dropping down onto his wheeled stool and rolling over, a mixture of sympathy and amusement on his face.

  “Where is she now?”

  “In the flat, I hope.”

  “You need her to move out.”

  I open my mouth to agree, but even his suggestion of it sounds wrong. “Where would she go?”

  “I know you’re trying to do the right thing here, but maybe it’s time you took a step back. You clearly don’t just have her best interests in mind.”

  “Ah, fucking hell,” I complain, rubbing at my rough jaw in the hope it’ll give me some clarity.

  “What’s different about this girl? You usually move on without so much of a second glance.”

  “If I knew that, I might not be in this situation.”

  “Is Zach gonna pay off her debt?”

  “I think so.”

  “Well, let’s just hope that happens sooner rather than later, so she can get out of your hair.”

  “What if I don’t want her out of my hair? Shit.” I don’t mean for the words to come out loud.

  “Fucking hell,” D chuckles. “You’ve got a serious problem here, mate.”

  Thankfully, a knock sounds out on D’s door, and I’m forced to get up and head to my own room as he welcomes his first client of the day in.

  “You know where I am, man,” he says before I disappear from sight.

  As I close the door behind me, locking myself in my little sanctuary, I wonder if D might like a new housemate. I’m just not sure if I should be the one to take up residence in his spare room or if I should
ship Kas there. D’s got more morals than I have. Hell, he’s got more than the three of us put together. He’d never touch the forbidden. Unlike me.

  My first two clients of the day drag. The tattoos they want aren’t half as intricate as I need to fully lose myself in. Every time I hear footsteps or a door opening and closing, I wonder if it’s Zach coming to continue our conversation from this morning, but he never shows his face.

  That is, until sometime after six o’clock. I’ve got a break in clients so I can grab some food, and I’m just about to shove my wallet into my pocket to head out when his knock comes. We’ve worked together long enough to identify each other by that alone.

  “Yeah,” I call out, somewhat hesitantly.

  “Hey. I’m uh… sorry about this morning,” he says, gesturing to my face with a wince.

  My eyes widen in shock. I was sure he was going to come flying in to deliver another painful message.

  “I should be thanking you for taking care of her.”

  “Um… I didn’t really do anything.”

  “Mate, you dragged her off that stage. Titch said it was pretty epic.”

  “I’m not sure your sister or Dakota saw it that way.”

  “Meh, don’t care what they think. You did the right thing.”

  If he knew the whole story, I’m sure he’d be saying something else entirely.

  Guilt threatens to engulf me, but I tell myself over and over that it was a one-time thing and it’s better for everyone if it’s just put in the past and never mentioned again.

  “So, are you going to pay this motherfucker off or what?”

  “Yeah, I’m sorting it.”

  “She hasn’t told me how much, but that’s gotta hurt.”

  He shrugs. “She’s my sister. She’s already had a shitty life. She deserves this.”

  “Couldn’t agree more. You should have seen where she was living.”

  “You should have called me sooner.”

  “She was too busy giving me the run around. She’s a defiant little bitch, your sister.”

  He chuckles, telling me that he’s more than aware.

  “She’s something, all right. I wish I had a chance to meet the woman who gave birth to us,” he says, a sombre expression passing over his face.

  “From what I’ve heard, you didn’t miss much.”