by Raquel Lyon
Keep Me Safe
By
Raquel Lyon
Synopsis
Kendrick likes his women as fast as the cars in his local street-racing scene. Having seen what loving and losing a woman can do to a man, he keeps his partners strictly casual. It’s just safer that way.
But from the moment he lays eyes on Molly, he knows his womanising days are at risk. She has a vulnerability he can’t ignore, and he is determined to discover what’s behind it.
Molly is just trying to survive her college years, in the hope of a better future. Juggling studying with work and a father who’s given up on life is enough of a headache, without the added complication of a relationship. That is, until the night an unexpected event puts her on the radar of a boy who is all wrong for her, and life gets messy.
Is it time to stop fighting and follow her heart?
First Edition.
Copyright 2014 Raquel Lyon
Digital Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be copied, resold, or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
End
Chapter One
Kendrick
Being seventeen sucked big time. It sucked even more when a mate thought it funny to melt your fake ID with a blowtorch.
Kendrick tapped his fingers on the dashboard with irritation, as he waited for his favourite fuck-buddy, Lexi, to emerge from the convenience store with his pack of smokes.
Lexi was great. Bringing a touch of the exotic to his otherwise dull life, her long waves of black hair fell almost to her slim waist, and she had a great rack that got all the guys panting. Above all, she loved sex, and Kendrick was lucky to be one of her select regulars. She asked for nothing and gave plenty. A dude would normally have to pay for her kind of skills, but she willingly gave them up for free, and Kendrick was happy to take advantage. He wasn’t into relationships. No girl had ever come close to the love he felt for the purr of a powerful engine under polished steel. But there were advantages to seeing an older woman. Six months and a whole lifetime of experience older than him, she came in handy for more than just sex. The couple of months he had to wait until his eighteenth birthday was a couple too many, and the day when he could walk into that store and slam down his driving licence to buy his own cigarettes and a six-pack couldn’t come soon enough.
The door to the shoebox shaped building, covered in old posters and graffiti, swung open, but it was a man cradling a crate of beer, not his date for the evening. What the fuck was holding Lexi up? It wasn’t as if there’d be a queue at the checkout at this time of night.
The roar of a performance engine pierced the night silence—not an unusual sound where he lived. Street racing was rife, and as soon as he could, Kendrick wanted in. If you were in the loop, there was good money to be made. And he needed the cash. Moonlighting as a mechanic for the drivers brought in some extra dough for driving lessons, but the big bucks were in the prize pot. Thousands were bet at every meet. If he could get his hands on some of that, he’d have the money to open his own garage in no time. But first he needed a car, and a licence to drive it.
His brother was no help. Since returning from uni, all Johnny had been interested in was making more money of his own. He could easily have afforded to put his little brother through the test and fork out for a set of wheels, if he’d wanted to. Having already passed the age of twenty-one, Johnny had received his inheritance—unlike Kendrick, who would have to wait another three years for his share. But Johnny had his own business plan, one that required a shovel and a bag of dirt, not an oil can and a spanner, and he kept his hand firmly in his pocket in order to achieve it.
Nicotine craving compelled Kendrick’s fingers to tap harder, as he watched a dark, hooded figure emerge from the passenger seat of the car that had drawn up under the shadows of some nearby trees. The man strode purposely up to the door and glanced around nervously before he entered. As he turned, a flash of light caught Kendrick’s eye.
Shit. That was one big fucking blade, and there was only one reason for him to be wielding it.
Oh, Christ! Lexi was in there.
Kendrick flung open the door and took two steps towards the store, then two steps back, just as quickly. He beat his fists against the roof of the car. What was he thinking? He couldn’t go in there. His fists were no match against a guy packing serious hardware, and as much as he loved a great roll in the sack, there was no way he was gonna die for it. Lexi was smart. She’d keep her head down. He climbed back into the car and scooched down the seat, away from snooping eyes. Being a grass in these parts was a one-way ticket to being blackballed, but he pulled his phone from his pocket and made the call anyway.
The minutes ticked by slowly, until the sound of sirens grew louder, and the door crashed open. The robber ran back to the car, now revving its engine, threw three plastic bags into the back seat, and yanked off his balaclava as he climbed in. Tyres screeched into the night, followed by a blue, flashing light, but the cops were kidding themselves if they thought they had a chance of catching power like that.
Another minute passed but Lexi still didn’t appear. Kendrick decided to go in and check on her, as another cop car pulled up outside the store. By the time he got inside, one officer already had his notebook open and another was talking to the manager.
“This store is closed, sir,” said the cop with the notebook. “There’s been an incident.”
“I know. I was the one who called you.”
“Is that right? Well then, I’ll get to you in a minute.”
His words hardly registered.
Behind the counter, there was a vision. Her long, dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, which quivered as much as her voice, as she recounted what had happened through full, pink lips. Small wisps of hair had escaped their confines and fallen over eyes the colour of lavender, glistening with tears about to spill over. How was it someone looking so scared and fragile, wearing the ugliest uniform in the history of ugly uniforms, could also look so goddamn sexy? Never had Kendrick wanted to take a girl in his arms more than he did at that moment.
The officer paused in his questioning to write on his pad, and Kendrick caught her eye. “Are you okay?” he asked her.
Her eyes widened, but before she could answer, the policeman looked up from his scribbling. “Please don’t interrupt my inquiry, sir. Wait your turn.”
Lexi swung him around to face her. “Hey, don’t mind me. I mean, I was in here too. How about throwing some concern my way?”
Kendrick stared down
his nose at her. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
Lexi hooked her arm around his and pulled him away from prying ears. “Aw, nice to know you care, baby,” she said with a note of sarcasm, before looking over her shoulder to follow Kendrick’s gaze. “You don’t want to go there, Ricky-boy.”
“I only asked the girl if she was okay, not if she wanted a quickie out the back.”
“Then stop perving on her, and keep well away, unless you like living dangerously.”
“A little jealousy there, Lex?”
“You wish. Give me some credit.”
“Listen, Lex, we have something good, you and I, but if it ends, it ends. I won’t lose any sleep over it.”
“Me neither,” she said casually. “I’m just giving you a friendly warning.” Kendrick flicked another glance at the counter. “See. You’re like a salivating dog, but you’re panting after the wrong bone, lover. She’s Barbie’s new plaything.”
Interesting, Kendrick thought. Barbie was Chris Barber’s nickname. He was top dog with the cruisers and had a reputation for fist flying. And the funny thing was, even at more than thirty yards away, in the dark, he could have sworn it was Barbie under that balaclava.
Chapter Two
Molly
Molly didn’t have a good track record with the police. In the last couple of years, she’d had to haul her ass down to the station, before going to college, too many times, to collect her dad after a drunken night in the cells. But since he’d lost his job at a local building firm, nights out with the boys had been replaced by slobbing in front of the TV all day, surrounded by empty cans.
These officers clearly knew her by sight, and if you were seen around the station, you were obviously a criminal, right? At least, that’s how it felt with the way they were looking at her, and she didn’t like it, even if it was true.
“So it was just the one man?” the officer asked.
“Y-yes.”
“Tall, short?”
“Um… a bit taller than you, I think. He was bent over the counter, so I’m not too sure.”
“I see.” He wrote on his pad. “And his age?”
Molly tucked a strand of hair nervously behind her ear. “H-his face was covered.”
“But if you had to guess?”
“I don’t know. Twenties? Thirties, maybe?” Actually, she knew precisely how old he was, twenty-two to be exact.
“Eye colour?”
“I was too busy filling his bags to notice.”
“Take a stab.”
“Blue.” They weren’t. They were brown, a dark, menacing brown that sent shivers through her when she looked into them. She hated lying, but she’d already said too much, and Chris would be angry enough. Silently, she cursed him for putting her in this position. It wasn’t as if he needed the money. A few grand was chump change to him. He made enough money from the suckers at the meets to fuel his passion for fast cars and a better lifestyle than she’d ever see. Stealing shit was his way of getting his kicks between race nights, and keeping up his hardman image with the boys. How was she supposed to know he would involve her in his crimes?
It wasn’t her fault.
The first night they’d met, Chris had subtly asked about her job. She’d thought he was showing genuine interest, so she’d happily complained about how she’d rather be enjoying a Saturday evening out with her mates, than coping with the busiest night of the week, when everyone came in to buy their pre-pub booze. He’d asked if her boss gave her much hassle, and she’d answered that, when he bothered to be there, Frank usually sat in his office, waiting until the store closed to emerge from his dungeon to fill the shelves and do the cashing up. She knew Chris’s reputation, and she should have put two and two together, but instead, here she was, lying to the cops with her job on the line.
The officer waved his pen at the ceiling. “Does that thing work?” he asked, pointing to the camera.
Molly nodded, hoping the tape didn’t reveal too much.
Chris had timed it to perfection. He’d got away with about four thousand in cash and enough cigarettes to make another grand. She hated the fact that he’d made her an accessory. Two years, she’d worked here. Two years of graveyard shifts after a long day at college. But what choice did she have? Someone had to make sure the rent was paid on the dump she called home. Her father was as much use as a glass hammer, wasting all of his unemployment cheque on blotting out the rest of the world. The store was due to close in ten minutes, and on a rare night when her dad didn't pass out on the sofa, he clock-watched for her arriving home. She prayed it wasn’t one of those nights, or she pay the price for being late. Hopefully, she’d be allowed to leave soon.
The policeman walked over to the couple huddled by the stack of half-price toilet rolls and began another round of questions. Molly studied the boy, who’d spoken to her. He was unbelievably cute, and her stomach gave a little flip, as she became mesmerised by the overhead lights reflecting off his slicked-back brown waves. She had a sense she’d seen him somewhere before, but she couldn’t place where. Surely, she should remember those steely blue eyes. Was it at college? He didn’t look like the academic type, wearing ripped jeans and Doc Martens, and he certainly wasn’t in her music class. Perhaps, she’d seen him at one of the meets? He seemed to know her. Maybe he was one of Chris’s mates? She didn’t know all of them, and she had no desire to. In fact, right at that moment, she wished she didn’t know Chris, either. He was a hassle she could do without, and yet somehow, he’d wheedled his way into her life, whether she liked it or not.
From the first time he’d seen her stepping out of her best friend’s car, she’d become his target, and apparently, Chris Barber never missed. She’d been flattered when he’d asked her to be the flagger for the night, and after he’d plied her with too much free drink, at the after-race party, she’d thanked him with a kiss and allowed him an over-the-clothes fumble. That was her first mistake. Her second was the outfit she wore the next time they’d met. She liked to look nice, but it was getting harder to find anything decent in the charity shops, nowadays, with everybody selling their stuff online instead. So when Chris noted her faded T-shirt and supermarket jeans, and stuffed a couple of notes into her hand telling her to buy herself something pretty, she didn’t think there was any harm in it. He could afford it, couldn’t he? Then, as she’d stared at the money, he’d just winked at her and walked away. Little did she know, he was buying her, and after that, keeping him at a distance had become a problem. The last thing she wanted was his mates keeping tabs on her. She had enough of that behaviour from her dad.
Why did the boy keep staring at her? It was starting to freak her out—not that she wasn’t used to men staring, but it was usually when she had her cleavage out, not when she was wearing a company uniform cleverly concealing the fact she had a figure at all. Was he here to check she hadn’t dobbed his mate in? She pondered the thought, as she risked another glance in his direction. No, she decided. He couldn’t be. She distinctly remembered him saying he’d been the one who’d called the cops. So what was his deal? Whatever it was, his gaze was disconcerting, sending hot shivers through her body which felt alien to her. Add to that the fact that his girlfriend was giving her the evil eye, and the whole situation made her uneasy.
Not wanting to be at the centre of any more trouble, Molly turned her back to them and began straightening the remnants of the cigarette cabinet, as her boss finished talking to the policeman and they both approached the counter, although Frank was wobbling more than usual. His gammy knee must be playing him up again. Molly had often thought losing some weight would help to ease his problem, but she hadn’t dared to mention it.
“I’ll need you to come down to the station to give an official statement, miss,” the officer said. “Tomorrow would be preferable.”
Molly nodded and continued her tidying.
“Leave that, love.” Frank waved his podgy hand at the mess, as the young couple left. “You must be shaken up. Why don
’t you get off home?”
She lifted the sleeve of her uniform to note the time. Only ten minutes late. Not too bad. She could still make it home in time, if she ran.
Chapter Three
Kendrick
Lexi kicked her car into gear. “Your place or mine?”
Not this again? “Why do you always ask that when you know the deal?” Kendrick frowned.
“Because, maybe, I’m hoping the day will come when you’re not too ashamed to take me back to yours.” She turned the wheel and headed south to her flat.
Kendrick took an extended drag on his long-awaited cigarette and released the smoke as he spoke. “I’m not ashamed. You know the score. One look at you and the old man would have a heart attack.”
It would be so much easier if he didn’t live with his grandfather, he thought, but Pappa’s house was his home now. It had been, for almost a year, ever since his father had joined his mother in the local cemetery, and Kendrick had never taken a girl back to his bed at Pappa’s. He certainly wasn’t going to start with a half-cast tart-with-a-heart and cement Pappa’s opinion of him as a total loser who wasn’t even capable of finding a nice girl.
“Stop using your grandfather as a fucking excuse,” she said.
“Then stop making an issue out of it.” He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. Why couldn’t she just shut the fuck up until they got back to her place? He wasn’t with her for her talent with words, and the events of the last hour had left him with an intense desire to screw his way to oblivion. He kept thinking about the checkout girl, and he had to stop. It could only lead to trouble. And yet, there was something that didn’t sit right. If what Lexi had said were true, what was a girl like her doing with a guy like Barbie? Kendrick had seen some of the girls hanging off Barbie’s arm, girls more like Lexi, the self-assured, out-for-what-they-could-get type. One look in Checkout Girl’s pretty, little eyes was enough for him to know she wasn’t anything like them. So what was the deal? Throughout his time in the store, he’d been trying to figure it out, and for one brief moment, he’d wondered whether she’d planned the robbery with Barbie, but the way she’d looked like a doe with its foot caught in a trap, under interrogation, had ensured he dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. She was a mystery, a beautiful mystery in the middle of an ugly situation. What was her story?
