My saviour turns back to the other man that he pulled off me, driving blow after blow into his face. The sound of skin hitting skin and the grunts and groans from the men echoes down the alley. With every blow, his head cracks against the wall opposite me.
“Who the fuck are you?” Harry shouts, trying to get back up onto his feet.
“You’re worst nightmare, you bastard,” my rescuer booms.
That voice... it's Kyle’s voice.
I know I shouldn’t after everything that has happened tonight, but a warm feeling of relief floods me. I’m safe.
A shoe collides with Harry’s face, sending him back down to the ground, unmoving.
I’m pulled away from the scene by my upper arm, strong hands holding me tightly, but not hard enough to hurt or bruise. I’m dragged out of the alley and into the street.
I look up Kyle's face to find familiar sapphire blue eyes staring down at me, full of anger. “Are you alright?" Kyle asks, his voice thick with rage and concern, his eyes flitting over my body to check for injuries.
I’m too shook up to reply.
He cups my face with his hands, he bends his knees bringing his face is level with mine, his eyes boring into mine, his jaw tense. “Answer me.”
Tears fall down my face. “They hit me... they... they touched me...” I reply, my voice hoarse and broken as I begin to sob uncontrollably.
“Fuck,” he mumbles. “Fuck! I’ll kill them,” he booms and starts back towards the alley.
I grab hold of his arm, tugging him back. “No, don’t. Please. Just... just get me out of here,” I beg.
He lets out a deep growl as his fist collides with the wall beside us in rage, his already bloodied hand is even bloodier now. He turns back to me, looking down at my soaked, transparent shirt and my jeans that are unbuttoned. He reaches down slowly, reaching to button up my jeans, causing me to tense up.
He looks into my eyes. “It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice is soft. He offers a reassuring smile before continuing to button up my jeans and adjusting my blouse that’s ripped and gaping open, pulling it across my chest to cover up my exposed bra.
The simple act making my heart swell a little. Under any other circumstances, my cheeks would be ablaze with embarrassment at my lack of clothing but it’s the last thing on my mind right now.
Kyle takes off his suit jacket and drapes it over my shoulders, wrapping an arm around me, tucking me into his body, shielding me. He leads me back towards the casino, only we bypass the main doors and instead walk down the side of the building and into a side entrance.
My mind races. It skips from one thing to another, unable to settle, tiny flashes of my life pass through my mind like I’m watching a trailer for a movie, little snippets of past events and memories replaying in my head. The next thing I know, we are in an elevator, and then outside a door, then inside what I presume is his suite.
Kyle guides me over to the couch and kneels down in front of me. He wipes my tears away with his thumb before placing both his hands on the couch, either side of where I sit. His crisp white shirt soaked and sticking to his body, splattered with specks of blood, droplets of rain falling from dishevelled, wet hair.
His hands trail over me, from my face to my arms and then to my hands. “Christ, you’re frozen.”
He stands up and pulls a blanket from the back of the couch and wraps it around my body before returning to sit in front of me, perching on the edge of the coffee table.
I glance at his hands that are red and bleeding. “You need ice,” I say, my voice shaky.
“I’m fine,” he says, dismissively. He leans forward, his eyes on my neck where I’m sure a fresh bruise has now appeared. His nostrils flare. He touches his fingers lightly to my neck, then slowly moves up to my face, to my cheek where I was hit.
I can’t deny how my body reacts to his touch, how his fingers leave a trail of fire on my skin as he touches me.
He shouldn't make me feel like this. My body shouldn't react to him like this.
He pulls away, rising to his feet, running his hands through his damp hair. “Fuck,” he mumbles. He begins pacing back and forth in front of me. “What the fuck were you doing in that alley?” he asks sternly.
“I got lost.”
“You got lost...” he repeats slowly, mockingly, shaking his head, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Don’t you realise the danger you put yourself in by going down there?” He grits his teeth in anger.
“You think I went down there by choice? That I went down there on the off chance there’d be three drunk guys waiting for me? I wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you!”
“So now it’s my fault is it? It’s my fault you just happened to get lost in a dark fucking alley, alone, at night, in Manhattan for Christ’s sake!”
“If you hadn’t tricked my dad into your stupid deal, I wouldn’t have stormed out and I wouldn’t have got lost. I wouldn’t have even been in your casino again if it weren’t for you. Fuck you!”
I get up, the blanket and his jacket falling from my shoulder as cross the short distance between us and slap him hard across the face. My palm stings from the contact.
He grasps my wrists in his huge hands and pulls me against him, his hard body pressed tightly up against mine as he towers over me. “Don’t hit me again,” he warns.
“What? You going to finish off what they started back in that alley? That’s what I’m here for after all isn’t it? I wouldn’t be surprised if those assholes weren’t part of your sick little game,” I say.
His grip on me loosens. “You think I would do that? Is that really what you think of me? That I’m some kind of monster?”
“Just seems a little convenient,” I snap.
“I may be a bastard Hayley, but I am not a... a rapist.” He flinches as he spits out the last word.
He lets go of my wrists and recoils from me, his face faltering. He leans against the wall behind him, staring up at the ceiling, his hands thrust deep into his pockets. “You know I didn't have to come after you, I didn't have to save you from those sick bastards, but you want to know why I did?”
I say nothing.
“Because despite what you think of me, I don’t agree with rape, I could never just turn a blind eye and keep on walking, it’s just not who I am. When I heard you scream...” His jaw clenches, exhaling deeply as though to calm himself.
A pang of guilt tugs at my insides at his words, at how his honesty pours through them.
An awkward silence hangs between us once again until I decide to speak.
I clear my throat. “How did you find me? Did you follow me?”
His eyes flick to mine. “I did. I came looking for you, a lady told me which way you went. I wanted to talk to you.”
“About what? About how you played my dad all so that you could have me, all for your little game?”
“I told you before, I know what I want,” he replies, coolly.
“So, what, you’re going to keep me locked up here for a week, knowing full well I don’t want to be? I can’t stay here for a week, I have a life, a job!”
“We had a deal, I’m a man of my word, I expect that your dad is too.”
“I never agreed to that stupid deal! I’m twenty-one years old I can make my own decisions, my dad had no right! I get it, you’re stupid rich and have an obscene amount of money, but you can’t just go around, buying people,” I rant.
“Anyone and anything can be bought, Hayley, for the right price.”
I shake my head. “Not me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” He smirks. “I’m not forcing you to stay here, I’m not going to tie you up or lock you in a cage, you’re free to leave whenever you like, but… leave, and the money is no longer on the table, deal’s off.”
“So I have no choice.”
“Of course you do, everyone has a choice. Stay with me and you can pay off your debts, or walk out that do
or, and have nothing, it’s your choice.”
“You’re a real asshole, anyone ever tell you that?”
“I’ve been told once or twice,” he chuckles.
“You think all of this is a game, you think that because you’re rich, it gives you some God-given right to play with people’s lives. I bet you’ve never had to work a day in your life. You grew up with money, security, without the fear or worry of not being able to afford to pay the bills...” I inhale sharply. “I'll stay, purely to keep up my dad’s end of the deal, but don’t expect me to be happy about it.”
He stares out of the huge window overlooking Manhattan, his arms folded across his chest. I wait for him to speak, but he simply stands there in silence, either ignoring me or contemplating what I’ve said.
“Go take a shower, you’re soaking wet and freezing... you can take my bed, I’ll take the sofa,” he offers.
“What a gentleman,” I say sarcastically.
He turns to face me, a faint smile touches his lips. “Go take a shower, I’ll order up some food.”
“I’m not hungr-” My stomach let’s out a loud growl that fills the room.
He cocks an eyebrow and smirks. “Like I said, I’ll order some food. En suite is just through there.” He motions with his head towards the bedroom.
I nod and turn on my heel, but I come to a stop, turning back to Kyle. “I, um, left my jacket in the casino on one of the chairs, it has my phone in it.”
“I’ll send someone to go and get it.”
“Thanks,” I say before disappearing into the bedroom leading to the adjoining bathroom.
I turn on the shower and strip out of my cold, damp clothes and step under the hot water, letting it wash away the feeling of their hands on my body. I look down, finding bruises covering my arms from where they held me. Tears sting my eyes.
“Hayley?” I hear from outside the bathroom door. “I’ve left a bathrobe on the bed for you. Figured you’d want to change into something clean and dry. Food’s ready too, it’s waiting on the bed, along with your jacket.”
“Okay.”
A good ten minutes later, I get out of the shower, wrap a towel around my body and use another for my hair. I glance up into the mirror above the sink, my eyes zero in on the deep red finger marks on my neck, I trace them with my fingers, and I wince.
I slowly open the bathroom door, checking that the coast is clear and that he’s gone before scurrying across the bedroom and retrieving the bathrobe. Once I've changed into the fluffy white robe, I head for the food that is waiting for me on the bed.
Spaghetti Bolognese. It smells divine. I eat slowly, savouring the taste.
When I'm done, I remove the towel from my damp hair, running my fingers through it to loosen the tangles. I leave the bedroom with the empty plate and tray and place it on the dining table.
“Hope you enjoyed it.” I jump at his voice, to find Kyle sat on the couch, his laptop propped open on his lap.
“Yes. Thank you.”
He looks up from his computer and his gaze lands on me, his eyes trailing from my feet, up my body and landing on my face. It is then that I remember I am dressed only in a bathrobe that falls mid-thigh. Tingles spread through my body.
Why does my body react to him of all people?
I shouldn’t feel this way. Why can’t I stop my body from wanting him at the same time my mind is telling me that I hate him?
“Good.”
“I’m going to go to bed, goodnight Kyle,” I say awkwardly.
“Goodnight.”
I begin to head back into the bedroom when the sound of his voice stops me.
“How do you know my name?”
“What?”
“I’ve never told you my name.”
Shit. My cheeks flush, I just pray that he can’t see it from where he’s sitting. “I... um... I kind of.... Googled you.”
His mouth ticks up into an amused grin, his face softening as if I’ve taken him by surprise. “Find anything interesting?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
He chuckles and a beautiful smile stretches across his face. “Goodnight, Hayley.”
I smile shyly before heading back into the bedroom and close the door behind me.
I crawl into the huge bed and snuggle under the crisp white covers. It takes seconds for sleep to welcome me.
Chapter 9
Hayley
“No! Stop!” The sound of shouting jolts me awake. What the hell was that?
I listen out, waiting for another sound. It doesn’t come. I must have been dreaming.
I sit up, rub my eyes, and let out a yawn. I look at my phone, it’s 3:15 in the morning, I have at least twenty new text messages, six missed calls from my dad, four from Aaron, and three from Gwen. I’ll deal with them in the morning.
I flop back down against the pillow as sleep tries to pull me back.
“Stop! Let her go!”
I shoot bolt upright. Is that Kyle?
I jump out of bed and run out of the room and head for where Kyle lies on the couch, trapped in a nightmare as he tosses and turns in his sleep, he’s moving so much, I’m surprised he hasn’t rolled off the couch completely. A thin sheen of sweat covers face and his lean chiseled half naked body. “No!”
I kneel beside the couch. “Kyle. Kyle wake up.” I nudge him gently.
He continues to twitch and moan. “Stop!” he cries.
“Kyle.” I nudge him a little harder and he wakes, startled.
He sits bolt upright, letting out quick, uneven ragged breathes. He peers down at where I’m knelt on the carpet in front of him, his gorgeous blue eyes even manage to penetrate through the darkness of the room.
“Hayley?”
“Yeah. I heard you shouting, I think you were having a nightmare.”
Even after everything that happened yesterday at the casino, after everything he did, I can’t help but feel sorry for him, sympathize with him. I’ve had nightmares that have had me questioning what was real and what wasn’t. Nightmares so bad I’ve woken up to find my pillow soaked in tears, my eyes red raw from crying, my throat sore from screaming. Whatever he was dreaming about, it can’t have been anything good.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
His face hardens and he releases me from his gaze, looking away. “Yeah. Go back to bed,” he replies sharply.
“Are you sure? You don’t want to talk about it?”
“No, why the hell would I want to talk about it?” he snaps. He lies back down and rolls over leaving me sat staring at his back.
I sit there in silence, stunned at his bluntness.
“You know, considering what you’ve done, I could have just left you. Sorry for wanting to make sure you were alright. I won’t bother next time.” And with that, I stand and walk away, back into the bedroom.
I crawl back under the covers but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get back to sleep. My mind retraces over everything that has happened in the last forty-eight hours, going over every single detail. I must lie awake for hours. It isn’t until the early morning sunlight fills the room that I finally drift back off to sleep.
Chapter 10
Hayley
“Uncle Jack, hey, it’s me. Look, I know it’s short notice, but could I have the next few days off?”
“Is everythin’ alright? Are you sick?” he asks, I can hear the worry woven into his voice through the phone.
“No, it’s not that…” I trail off, trying to find a suitable excuse, a suitable lie to tell him, “it’s just that, all these extra shifts are taking their toll on me.”
“So, you’re sick?”
“I’m just worn out.” Not a total lie.
He sighs deeply into the phone. “Okay, take a few days off, come back when you feel better. Your dad’s been calling me, asking if I’ve heard from you, are you sure you’re okay, you’re not in any trouble?”
“No, no, nothing like that. I’m fine, I promise.”
He p
auses for a moment. “Okay. You know where I am if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Uncle Jack. I love you.”
“Hey, that’s what family’s for, I love you too, sweetheart.” I hang up the phone and toss it onto the bed, next to where I’m sat, my legs crossed under me, tucked under the soft warm covers.
The Game Page 5
