by G. Bailey
94
Tilly
"This dress is not going to work now," I comment, looking down at the dress I’m currently trying to pull over my bump. It doesn’t fit anymore, not like it did just last week, and I groan. I went from having a small bump to a massive one in over a week.
There are a few knocks at the door as I pull the dress off. I put it back on a hanger in the wardrobe, and I shout, "One second!"
I pull my jeans and long jumper on. Thankfully, it falls to my knees but still shows off my big bump. After I quickly pull my hair out of my jumper and make sure I look okay, I pull the door open to see Harley leaning against the wall, and he smiles at me.
"I want to take you out tonight," he says, and I lean my head to the side. This was not what I expected when I opened the door. Harley has all but glared at me since the baby shower two days ago, when I said he doesn’t do relationships. But it wasn’t like I was lying. I don’t get what he wants from me. It’s like he is hot and cold with me all the time, but I don’t know what the reason is.
"Where?" I ask him.
"Somewhere nice, you need to get out. This last week, you’ve been inside so much since you took maternity leave from the gym," he reminds me, and I know he is right.
I took my maternity leave earlier than I thought I would to get finished with my editing work. Harley doesn’t seem to mind me not working, but he apparently doesn’t like me staying out of his way all week.
"Okay . . . but where?" I ask, and he smirks.
"It's a surprise. I can’t tell you, but I know you will like it," he says, flirting with me a little, and some part of me wants to tell him to stop messing with me. To tell me if he wants to be with me or not. But another part of me knows he is messed-up from his past, and maybe he just needs time. That same part of me knows what I’m feeling for him is moving beyond a simple crush, and it's hurting my heart.
"Come on, then." I laugh and, trusting him not to lead me anywhere strange, walk down the stairs.
Luke is at the bottom. Clearly, he has been working out or something, as he is dripping with sweat as he passes us on the stairs in just some shorts. Damn, he has an eight pack, and I find myself having to pull my eyes away. These Kings are way too hot for their own good. Harley glares at Luke, and I’m not sure why.
"Date?" he asks us both and then smirks when Harley wraps an arm around my waist. "Doesn’t matter, you won’t tell me anyway," he says, walking slowly up the stairs.
"Yes, it is a date," Harley answers, and I give him a strange look.
“About time.” Luke laughs and walks up the stairs.
"Thought you couldn’t date me?" I ask Harley as he keeps his arm around me while we walk over to where the coats and shoes are hanging.
"No . . . I can’t be with you and not hurt you. This is just my way of dealing with things, but it doesn’t change how I want you. I’m not going to avoid that," he tells me.
"It’s a crappy way not to be with me. Especially when you look at me the way you do and then want to take me on a date. You’re a confusing man, and most people would just think you’re stringing me along,” I say, and he groans, rubbing his face. I just shake my head at him. “I didn’t say no to the date, maybe I’m just a fool for you." I laugh as I pull my coat on and my boots.
“You’re no fool, Tilly,” Harley says gently as he grabs his coat and keys before leading us outside. When we make it to his car, he opens the passenger door for me. When we get inside, he drives us out of town and down some country roads before we get to the place he pulls into. It’s an aquarium, and it’s closed as its eight p.m., but the lights are still on inside.
"I hope you like fish and turtles. My friends run this place and left me with the keys for the night. I thought you might like to have a look around when no one is here," he says, and I smile at him.
"It’s perfect, thank you," I say, letting myself out of the car before he replies.
It’s an unusual date, but it is cute of him. He gets out and goes to the backseat, pulling out a backpack as I wait for him before he takes my hand and leads us inside after opening the door.
"What’s in the bag?" I ask him.
"Dinner, seeing as you didn’t come down for it today, I packed up some food for us both instead," he says, and I kind of love that he noticed I didn’t eat. That he thought of me.
"Good idea," I mutter, my cheeks a shade of red that probably matches my hair as we walk silently down an aisle of fish.
There are so many different types, but my favourite are the seahorses, and maybe the colourful mixed fish I can’t remember the name of. The place is beautiful, and I love how quiet it is. Usually, when you go to places like this, it’s so busy that you can’t enjoy the animals around you.
"Here, this tunnel is really cool. I used to bring my brothers here sometimes to get them out of the house and distracted. They would spend hours in here," Harley says, opening a door to an underwater tunnel.
There are sharks and turtles and all sorts of fish swimming over the lit-up tunnel, and I stop in the middle of it as Harley opens his bag. He pulls out a blanket, placing all of the food and drinks he brought on the blanket.
"Picnic in an underwater tube. I have to give it to you, Harley, this is amazing and unique," I say, and he holds a hand out, helping me to sit before he sits himself.
"I don’t want you to forget our first date," he says with a smirk, and I shake my head at him.
Harley King is confusing. We eat the food he has made before he puts it all away and lies down on the blanket. I lie down on his shoulder and look up at the sharks, who seem to look at us as they swim by.
"Did your brothers like coming here?" I ask him.
"Yes. They loved whenever I would take them out of the house and away from my father. I tried my best to do that, but it was impossible to do it all the time," he says, and all I can think of is the responsibility he must have had as a teenager. He must have had a complicated and stressful youth.
"I bet it was. Izzy told me about your father, about everything," I tell him gently, noticing how he tenses a little, but I slide my hand into his and rest our joined hands on his stomach.
"And you still haven't run from me?" he asks, his words seeming to echo around the tube.
"Why would I?" I reply.
"I’m messed-up, too messed-up for someone like you." He sighs.
"What’s that meant to mean?" I ask him, and he lets go of my hand and turns to face me. He lifts some of my long hair and lets it fall through his fingers.
"I can’t give you anything, not really. I spent my life protecting my brothers and then Izzy. Even when all the fights with The Cage are over, I will always be looking over my shoulder, expecting Arthur to try something. I will always have to be careful. What kind of life is that for you? For your child?" he asks me, and it starts to make sense to me now.
"You will always protect them, right?" I ask him, and he nods.
"What about you? Don’t you want your own family?" I ask him.
"Yes, of course I do, but I won’t be able to have that anyway," he says, and I’m confused by his answer. I don’t know what he means.
"Explain that to me? I don’t get it," I ask him.
"I can’t have children, I can’t give you a family, and I can’t be what you need. All right?" he says in a sharp voice, sitting up and looking away from me.
"I’m sorry, Harley, but it doesn’t matter to me," I say gently.
"It will eventually matter when you want us to have a child, and I can never give you that. The fighting came with a cost for me, and the cost was too high," he says. Every part of his body is tense as he stares at the floor.
"Harley," I say, resting my head on his shoulder after sitting up.
“The fighting wasn’t the only thing my father made me do, he made me fuck whoever he wanted me to. He made it so I ended up never trusting women, never wanting to get close to anyone.” He pauses, taking a long breath. “I never wanted to get hurt again, and th
en you came into my life. The first woman I couldn’t stop thinking about, wanting to be around all the time. But I’m not stupid, I know you won’t want a messed-up man,” he tells me, looking down at the floor like it holds all the answers in the world.
“You’re not messed-up, and it’s up to me what I want,” I whisper.
He doesn’t move for a long time, both of us staring at the fish around us until he looks down at me. The emotion in his eyes is hard to look away from; the hurt he feels, the doubt flashing behind his eyes. I lean up and kiss him, not caring about what he thinks and what he believes is right. I know what I feel for him, and I want him to know. I push all of my feelings for Harley into the kiss, all my worries and everything I know about him.
"Tilly." He sighs when I crawl over and sit on his lap, but he doesn’t stop kissing me back. His lips battle with my own as he loses whatever control he was holding on to. The kissing is finished when the baby kicks, and I know Harley felt it as he looks down to where my bump is touching his stomach.
"Can I?" he asks me, and I nod. Harley reaches a hand between us and smooths a hand over the bump. The baby kicks, and he smiles.
"I will be there for you both, I just can’t make you any promises until the final fight is done. I don’t want to hurt you," he tells me, and I understand, in a way, that this is his way of keeping some control over his life. Unlike when his life was controlled by his father for all those years.
"No promises." I sigh, and he kisses my forehead. I understand where he is coming from, but it doesn’t mean I’m giving up on Harley King.
95
Harley
“Another King win!” my father shouts, holding my hand by the arm as I glare at him. Not that he gives a crap. I look down at the guy on the floor, blood covering most of his face, his nose is broken, and only the movement of his chest tells me he is even alive anymore. I tried not to hurt him too much, but the man wouldn’t give up. He fought like everything in his life depended on it, and I bet it did.
“Get off,” I growl, pulling my arm away and walking out of the cage and slamming the door open to the changing room. I hear his booted footsteps as he follows me in here, but I don’t turn to him.
“I want to tell you something. I have a plan,” he says.
“What?” I snap, looking over my shoulder at him, and he shakes his head.
My father looks every bit the rough man I know he is, with his bald head, tattooed neck, and pristine suit. Most people are scared of him with just one look, but no one realises just how evil he really is. Evil with a good-looking face.
“Not here,” he says, and I ignore him as I get dressed and wipe the blood off my hands. My lip feels like it needs stitches as it continues to bleed, and two of my knuckles feel broken as I undo the bindings. Fucking great.
I won’t show him that I’m in pain, show him any weakness. I follow my father out of the changing room, seeing him nod to Arthur, who is sitting at the bar, and then he leads me outside. I don’t say a word as he drives us back to the house. Not a word, and that’s concerning. Fuck knows what crazy plan he has now.
“Wait,” my father says as I try to walk straight up the stairs and to my room.
I glance back at him, watching as he walks into the kitchen. I follow him and see all my brothers sitting around, some are eating and I assume they were talking before Dad came in. They always stop talking when he is here, always scared of his reaction and not wanting a beating. I hate that that’s how they have become.
“I’m going to kill Arthur and take over The Cage and the other businesses,” my father says, and I just stare at him.
“You’re mad,” Elliot growls out, and I give him a look that makes him look away. Elliot is the only one who challenges him these days. Sebastian spends as much time as he can away from the house, and Elliot covers for him. I protect them all, especially Luke. He is the most shielded from everything.
“No, I’m not. It’s all planned, and when I’m the boss, not just a fucking partner, you can all work for me. It’s a brilliant plan. I’m going to sleep and think about it,” he says, walking out of the room, and we all sit in silence for a long time. I know my father has mental issues, I’ve always known that, but this just proves he is fucking crazy.
“Should we stop him?”
“No,” I say quietly, almost hoping Arthur figures out what’s going to happen and kills my father. It would be doing us all a favour, and the silence from my brothers suggests they feel the same way.
I shoot up in bed, the sound of someone screaming fills my ears and makes the memory wash away. That night was the start of my father getting himself killed and ultimately screwing us over. I should have stopped him, waited until Luke turned eighteen, and then we all could have run. Instead, our father getting himself killed just made our lives worse.
I get out of bed quickly and run across the room and open my door, hearing that it’s Tilly screaming. I open her door and run into the room, seeing her thrashing around on her bed, the sheets sticking to her as she screams.
“Don’t do this, please don’t, Daniel,” she shouts, and I go over, shaking her shoulder and watching as she suddenly wakes up and jumps.
“Hey, it’s me. It’s Harley,” I say, rubbing a hand down her arm. The moonlight shines through the window and bounces off her pale eyes as she watches me. She looks so scared.
“What . . . what are you doing in here?” she asks me, her voice breathless and scared.
“You were having a bad dream and screaming. I didn’t know what was going on and you seemed so scared. I had to wake you up,” I tell her.
“Oh, I’m sorry I woke you,” she says, rubbing a hand over her pale face and brushing the hair from her eyes.
I hand her the glass of water from the side as I turn the lamp on that’s on her desk. She drinks some of the water before handing me the cup.
“Don’t be sorry, you’re not the only one who has bad dreams, siren,” I say, and she nods, understanding clouding her face.
“Want to talk about it?” I ask her after a moment’s silence.
“Maybe? I don’t know. Does it help you to talk about it?” she asks me, rubbing a hand over her stomach.
“I don’t know. I don’t talk about my past to anyone,” I tell her. The most I’ve spoken about my past is to Tilly.
“You should. I mean, you could talk to me. I’m your friend,” she says. I don’t want to haunt her with my past, and re-living it never seems to help me.
“Have you felt any kicks?” I ask her, changing the subject, and she nods.
“He or she kicks all the time,” she tells me. I lift a hand and place it on her stomach, listening as her breath hitches, and I look up to meet her eyes. I don’t feel the baby move, but I keep my hand still on her stomach, hoping I do.
“Will you tell me about what happened with your ex, with Daniel? I want to know everything I can about you, and I don’t know why,” I ask her.
“How do you know his name?” she asks as I move onto the bed and stretch myself out next to her.
“You sleep talk,” I answer, staying still as she lies down on the bed and rests her head back on her pillows. We both lie facing each other, neither one of us wanting to say anything.
“Daniel is the baby’s father and my ex-boyfriend, who I lived with,” she tells me.
“Why isn’t he here?” I ask her.
“Because I ran and didn’t tell him,” she answers quietly, and all I can think of is how much I want to beat the shit out of him. She isn’t the type to run for no reason, she ran because she was scared. I can see that in her eyes.
I’ve fought lots of men in The Cage, and I see that fear in their eyes every time. Sometimes it’s right at the start because they are smart and know they won’t win. For others, there’s no fear at the start, just arrogance, and then, when I’ve beaten them and I’m about to knock them out, the fear is there.
“What happened?” I ask her gently, knowing she doesn’t have to tell
me.
“The night I tried to leave him to come here, he caught me. He went mad, throwing stuff around the room and then told me I wasn’t leaving. I got brave and told him to screw himself before trying to run out the door,” she says quietly.
“You’re safe with me,” I whisper when she stops talking.
“He caught me on the stairs and threw me to the floor. Next thing I knew, he kicked me and I fell down the stairs, hitting my head when I stopped at the bottom. He tried to . . . well, he tried to force himself on me. While he was ripping my jeans off, I picked up the glass football statue my brother, Ace, had left by the bottom of the stairs and slammed it over his head. I don’t know if I killed him because I just got up, grabbed my suitcase, and ran,” she says, angrily wiping her eyes as I rest my hand on her shoulder. I can’t say I’m surprised, but this is worse than what I was expecting.
“Tilly,” I whisper, and she looks up at me, only for a second before looking away.
“Let’s be clear on something, okay?” I ask her. I slide my hand over her cheek and move a little closer on the bed, so our faces are inches away as I talk to her. I rub my thumb over her cheek gently.
“I hope you killed that fucker. I hope he is dead, and if he comes anywhere near you or your baby, I will make sure he never looks at you again,” I promise her.
“Why do you protect me?” she asks.
“I feel like you’re mine to protect,” I whisper, freezing as she kisses me.
Her lips brush against mine, reminding me how she tastes like sweets and how soft her lips are. I don’t hold back this time as I kiss her back, and she melts into me. I roll myself over her, holding my weight with my hands as we kiss.
“Harley.” She moans as I push my body into her gently and slowly kiss down her neck.
I stop and look up at her, watching as she smiles lightly. That smile does me in, it makes me like her more, and my breath stops. If I take this any farther, if I let myself be with her and then something happens to me in that fight, she would be alone and I would hurt her. She doesn’t deserve that.
