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

by Tracy Lorraine

  “Fuck. I’m so sorry,” Biff says, dropping to her knees on the other side of me to Kas.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  Lifting my hand, I wipe away the blood trickling down my chin.

  She looks back in the direction Zach went in before her concerned eyes come back to me.

  “Go to him, it’s okay.”

  “Are you sure?” I’ve never seen her look so torn.

  “Yes. He’s going to need you.”

  “Spike, for once will you stop thinking about everyone else and concentrate on yourself,” she snaps. “Anyway, he’s not going to want me anywhere near him when he discovers that I already knew about this.”

  I wince, knowing that she’s right.

  “Don’t worry about me, I can handle him.” She winks.

  “Just go,” I say as I notice a member of staff heading our way.

  Pushing from the floor, I manage to get to my feet with the help of Kas’ arm around my waist.

  “One of my colleagues is about to call the police. If you’d like to follow me, then—”

  “No,” I bark, much to his surprise. “No police. We’re leaving.”

  “But you need to press—”

  “I need to do fuck all.”

  The guy—who doesn’t look a day over eighteen—pales at my tone.

  “Excuse us,” Kas says, taking a step forward with me and forcing him to stand aside.

  “But—”

  Kas stops when we’re in front of the guy. “Nothing happened here. You got that?”

  He swallows nervously but eventually nods and allows us to leave without any further drama.

  “Fucking hell,” D shouts when he sees the two of us trying to make our way to the exit. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “Don’t start,” I mutter. I don’t need him playing dad right now.

  I fucked up tonight. Hell, I fucked up the first time I laid a finger on Kas, but it’s a bit late to regret any of that now because I’m in too deep.

  “There’s a car on its way,” Kas says

  “They’re not going to let him in like that.”

  “They’re going to have to.”

  “Jesus. He really didn’t stand a chance with you, did he,” D says as if I’m not even here.

  “Nothing wrong with going after what you want. How much did you give him to drink?”

  “Few shots, some whisky. I wasn’t fucking counting.”

  I lose focus on what they’re saying by the time the cool night air hits me. Thank fuck D came to help, because there’s no way Kas would have been able to hold me up.

  I have no idea how we get home, but the next thing I know, the softness of my mattress hits my back.

  “Thank you for helping.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

  “No, you get off. Try to enjoy the rest of your night.”

  “Make sure you lock the door behind me.” My brows draw together at his strange words. D’s not usually one to say shit like that. Or maybe it’s just because he’s talking to Kas and not one of us.

  I don’t get a chance to think much more about it, because the room spins before I drift off again.

  “Ouch,” I complain when a sharp pain wakes me back up.

  “Quit being a pussy,” Kas whispers.

  “I’m okay, you don’t need—”

  “Shut up. He did a fucking good job on you.”

  “I know, I can feel it.” She might be cleaning my face up as gently as possible, but still, it aches like a motherfucker. The only consolation is that Zach’s hand must be pretty messed up right now. “I fucked up tonight. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not just your fault. We should have spoken to him days ago.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t need to follow you to the toilets.”

  “Didn’t you?” I crack an eye open to see a wicked smirk playing on her lips. Despite the pain I’m in, my cock swells at the memory of fucking her in that cubicle.

  She’s right, it did need to happen.

  “Fuck. He was a mess, I’ve never seen him so angry.”

  “He’ll get over it,” she says with much more confidence than I feel.

  I rest back, allowing her to continue what she’s doing. Her touch feels too good, and my head is spinning way too much to argue about it.

  “This is going to hurt like hell in the morning.”

  “It hurts pretty bad now. Are you okay?”

  “Spike,” she sighs.

  “He threw you into the wall.” My entire body tenses as I remember her body flying like nothing more than a rag doll.

  “I’m fine. Can you sit up? I need to get this shirt off you?”

  “Trying to get me naked?” I tease.

  “Always,” she deadpans.

  “Hmm… are you going to kiss it all better?”

  “You’re a nightmare.”

  “Yep, but I’m all yours.”

  Rolling over, my cheek presses against the pillow and my eyes fly open.

  What the fuck…

  The image of Zach’s fist flying at me emerges, and I groan. Fucking hell, it wasn’t a nightmare.

  “Are you okay?” Kas says, sitting up, concern filling her face as her eyes flit over mine.

  “Yeah,” I manage after clearing my throat.

  “Here, take these.” Sitting up, she passes me over a couple of painkillers and a glass of water.

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m not sure what hurts worse, my face or my hangover.”

  “You had way too much to drink last night,” she points out helpfully.

  “I had to watch you from a distance. What else was I meant to do when all I wanted was to walk up behind you and hold you?”

  “Spike,” she sighs, laying back down and carefully tucking herself into my side.

  After a few minutes, I manage to drift back off to sleep.

  “Hmm… I could get used to this,” I mutter, cracking my eyes open again to find Kas sitting beside me on the bed in only her underwear.

  “We… uh… need to go to work,” she says with a wince.

  “Fucking hell,” I groan.

  “Biff’s offered to cancel your clients if you can’t make it.”

  “How’s Zach?”

  “She said he was okay, but I’m pretty sure she was lying.”

  I nod. He has every right to still be furious with me. I lied to him about the one thing I promised I wouldn’t do.

  “I need to go. I need to talk to him.”

  “No, Spike,” she says, taking my hand in hers. “We need to talk to him.”

  I stare at her, taking in her beauty. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Yet here I am anyway,” she jokes.

  “He might never be okay with this,” I say, voicing my biggest concern.

  “We’ll cross that bridge if it comes to it. First, we need to hold our heads high and get on with it.”

  She pushes to stand so she can finish getting ready, but I tighten my grip on her fingers and pull her back.

  “I…” My voice cracks with nerves and Kas’ brows draw together. Blowing out a breath, I force out the words that I really need to say to her. “I really want this… us. You know that, right?”

  A genuine smile curls at her lips. “I do. I feel it. I know this scares you—hell, it scares me too. But you don’t need to doubt that I don’t know how you feel. I do.”

  I nod. “Good. That’s good.”

  “Whatever happens, we’ll fight it together, yeah?”

  “Yeah.” I smile for the first time in what feels like days, although I instantly regret it because the split in my lip opens up and stings like a bitch.

  “I guess I’d better attempt to make myself look presentable.”

  “Good luck with that,” she laughs.

  “Fuck, is it that bad?”

  “I think it’s sexy.” She runs her eyes from my face and down to my exposed chest and stomach.

  “Kas?”
/>   “No time. Go get in the shower, then we need to head out.”

  I roll my eyes at her but do as I’m told.

  Thankfully, the painkillers she gave me earlier have taken the edge off and I’m able to shower and dress almost like normal.

  “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she says when I join her in the living room where she’s been waiting for me.

  “Ready?”

  “I’ve called an Uber. You’re not driving like that.”

  I want to argue, but after getting a look at myself in the mirror, I know I don’t have a leg to stand on.

  Hand in hand, we head out, ready to discover what’s waiting for us at the studio.

  29

  Kas

  I tell myself that I’m not going to look when we step outside the building, but it all goes to shit when my eyes take on a life of their own and start scanning the area for the guy who was loitering last night.

  Just like the dark figure at the other end of the street the other day, he scared me.

  I tried not to react, but D noticed where my attention had drifted, and he also saw the guy in the shadows watching us as we carried a passed-out Spike into the building.

  I spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, attempting to convince myself that it was a coincidence. That he was hiding for any other reason than waiting for us… for me.

  I tell myself time and time again that the threat is gone. Jet is dead, along with his goons, and all of that is over. Mum’s gone, her dealer is gone, and I have a new life.

  Only, things aren’t ever that simple, are they?

  I hate doing it, but old habits die hard, and after I’d dressed for a day at the studio, I slide my flip knife into my boot.

  Until I moved here there wasn’t a day that passed where it wasn’t on my body somewhere, just in case something happened.

  I’d witnessed people get jumped on almost a daily basis, and fuck if I wasn’t going to be prepared for it to happen to me.

  “What’s wrong?” Spike asks, his eyes drilling into me. So much for being discreet.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me, Kas. Who are you looking for?”

  “N-no one. There was just this guy last night.”

  He stares at me before his eyes widen as if he’s remembered something.

  “That why D told you to lock the door after him?”

  “Uh… yeah. It’s probably nothing. Just some scumbag hiding in the shadows.”

  “You keep saying things like that.”

  “Well, it’s probably true. This is London. There are arseholes on every corner. It’s probably nothing.”

  “Or it might not be.”

  I shrug, trying really hard not to make a bigger issue out of this than it needs to be.

  “All that’s over, right? It’s nothing. I’m just being paranoid.”

  He studies me for a beat before our car pulls up and we climb in.

  I fight not to stare out the window to continue looking for someone, but I can’t shake the feeling that something’s not right.

  Discreetly, I lean down to scratch my ankle, but really I’m just making sure my knife is in place and putting my mind to rest somewhat.

  Rebel Ink is still in darkness when we pull up. We’re early, in the hope of talking to Zach before clients start arriving.

  My heart pounds in my chest and my palms feel a little sweaty as Spike lets us both inside. The place is in silence as we walk through reception.

  “Upstairs,” Spike says before walking through the kitchen and toward the stairs that lead up to Zach and Biff’s flat above the studio.

  Silently we make our way up, the atmosphere already making it hard to breathe.

  The moment we’re at the top, Spike reaches out and knocks on the door.

  Movement inside is almost instant, but when the door is pulled open, it’s Biff who stands on the other side, looking exhausted.

  “Hey,” she says softly. “How are you?”

  “I’ll live. Is he here?”

  “Um…” She glances back, telling us both that he’s obviously inside and hiding. “No?” I don’t think it was meant to come out like a question.

  “Just let us in, we need to talk.”

  “He’s still angry. At all of us,” she adds quietly.

  “I expect him to be, but he needs to hear what I’ve got to say.”

  “Not yet, just give him a little more time.”

  “What good is that going to do? This isn’t going to go away.”

  Biff blows out a knowing breath.

  “Zach, get your fucking arse out here,” Spike barks, making Biff jump.

  Silence follows.

  “I refuse to do this through a fucking door, man.”

  “Just go and do your job, and be fucking glad you’re good at it, or you might not have one right now.”

  “You don’t mean that, man.”

  “Don’t I?” he spits back. “Stay out of my way. Both of you.”

  Biff winces at the fierceness of his tone.

  “We’ll be downstairs,” I say to her, giving her a sympathetic smile and placing my hand on Spike’s arm to encourage him to move.

  His lips part to argue, but after a second he must realise that I’m right because he turns and heads down the stairs with a sigh.

  “Just give him some time. He’ll come around.”

  “And if he doesn’t?” he asks again.

  “He will. Now, what delights do you have for me today?” I ask, trying to turn his thoughts from my pig-headed brother and toward his clients.

  He smiles at me, clearly seeing what I’m doing, but he goes over to his computer nonetheless and powers it up.

  He talks me through his clients, tells me what I can expect, and sets me up to do a few jobs. Before we know it, his first victim is walking through the door.

  “Jesus, mate, that looks sore,” he comments when I stand aside and allow him to join Spike.

  “Nah, you should see the state of the other guy,” Spike jokes as he sets about doing his thing.

  I watch, I listen, I take everything in that he tells me until my fingers are twitching to have a go once again.

  The sound of movement outside Spike’s room has me on edge all day. Every time a door opens, I tense, thinking that Zach’s going to come storming in. But he never does. Every time there’s a knock at the door, it’s anyone but him. All the others poke their heads in to make sure that both of us are okay after what went down.

  I didn’t have Zach down as the kind of person who hides away from an issue, so it makes me wonder just how angry he really is if he feels the need to stay away while knowing we’re right here, waiting to talk to him.

  Despite the fact that I’m engrossed watching Spike work, the day still drags, knowing that we’ve still got to deal with it.

  “I’m hungry,” Spike complains when his penultimate client for the day leaves. “You fancy some dinner?”

  “Sure. What do you fancy?” I ask, jumping from the sofa where I was sketching, eager to get out of the studio and get some fresh air. The atmosphere in this place is kind of depressing.

  He rattles off his order, but he calls out to me before I get to the door. “Don’t go alone,” he warns, clearly remembering my trepidation this morning. “Take Biff with you, or ever better, just send her.”

  I agree and head out with the intention of finding Biff to do as I’m told, but reception is empty, as is the kitchen.

  Not wanting to disturb her, whether she’s in with Zach or upstairs, I leave it be and push through the front door.

  I only need to go up the street a bit. It’ll be fine. I’ll be back in a few minutes.

  It’s getting late. The sun is beginning to set, casting the street in orange shadows.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I make my way down the street to get the burger Spike requested.

  With both our orders in hand, I make my way back toward the studio. The sun has dippe
d below the buildings, and what was a relaxing soft hue on the walk here has now turned into a slightly eerie darkness, making me wish that I had done as Spike suggested and got Biff to come with me.

  Tugging my jacket tighter around myself, I set off on the short walk. My legs move as fast as I can make them go as the dread I’ve been feeling for the past few days quadruples in my belly.

  I tell myself over and over that I’m just being paranoid as I hurry back.

  I’m almost there. I can see the neon Rebel Ink sign in the distance when I sense someone behind me.

  My foot shoots forward, ready to run, but I don’t get the chance.

  A large hand covers my mouth as an arm wraps around my middle, hauling me back into a hard body. The bag in my hand falls to the floor as all the panic, the fear, the anxiety I’ve been feeling recently slams into me.

  I try screaming in the hope of alerting someone, but unlike my earlier journey, there’s no one on the street to watch this play out.

  I’m dragged into the shadows of an alley as I kick, bite, and attempt to scream.

  “Fucking bitch,” the guy grunts when I manage to connect my boot with his crotch.

  My heart pounds in my chest as my head spins, desperately trying to figure a way out of this.

  I hiss in pain when I’m pushed up against the wall, the rough bricks scratching at my skin as his hard body presses into my back.

  “What the fuck do you want?” I bark the second he releases my mouth.

  “You have no idea who I am, do you?” His fingers wrap around my hair and my head is violently pulled back so I have no choice but to look at him.

  I narrow my eyes, studying him as he waits for me to make whatever connection I’m meant to.

  His eyes are somewhat familiar, but I have no idea where from.

  “Am I meant to?”

  “You fucking should. You’ve got my money.”

  It takes a few seconds longer than it probably should, but realisation dawns eventually that he’s obviously got some connection to Jet.

  Fuck, fuck. Fuck.

  “I don’t have any money.” My head is ripped back once again, and an excruciating pain shoots down my neck and back at the vicious move.

  “Where is it?”

  “I don’t have it.”