by Lynch, H. G.
I didn’t get it. I didn’t get her. But I had to know.
She’d said she had a rap sheet. Small stuff, but maybe there was some big stuff she’d left out. Maybe she was working for one of the dealers in town, maybe even Red, and she’d been ordered to get me free of the cops. After all, I couldn’t pay off Brent’s debts from jail.
But no. If she was working for Red, she wouldn’t have slept with me last week…not unless he’d told her to get close to me and keep an eye on me. Damn it, this was stupid. Kez wasn’t a fucking dealer’s lapdog—or one of Red’s lap-dancers either. I was getting paranoid.
Then again, I did have a knife-wielding, homicidal dealer hunting my ass, and I was lucky I hadn’t been fucking jumped by his goons yet. Mostly because I’d been Flash-Travelling to work and back all week. Flash-Travelling was like Incubus teleportation. It was one of the first things Brent had taught me to do, because it meant I could make a quick getaway from the scene of a crime or from the back-alley muggers he worked with and against. It was difficult, though, and took a lot of energy. Probably why Brent hadn’t been able to save himself by Flashing. If I hadn’t been so fuelled up on Kester’s Lust, I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it all week.
The downside of Flash-Travelling, though extremely handy when I didn’t want to run into anyone who might want to gut me, was that my bike was left to sink into the mud in the lot around the back of the apartment block. I’d have to clean my baby up and take her for a ride. Tomorrow, though.
At the moment, I was going to talk to Kez and get some damn answers about why she’d lied to the cops for me. Then I was going to have some fun fucking with her mind—literally.
Chapter Thirteen
** Kester **
It being Saturday, and the previous night having been the first night in a week that I’d gotten a decent sleep, uninterrupted by less-than-peaceful dreams of Brogan, I was still in bed when my mobile phone rang at nearly one in the afternoon. My room was still dark, thanks to my blackout curtains, but the glow of my phone, as it lit up and started blaring Papa Roach's “Scars” on the nightstand, had me cursing and squinting as I fumbled for the stupid thing.
Finally, I managed to hit the answer button and bring the phone to my ear, expecting Zack on the other end. “What the fuck do you want?” I snapped, as was my usual response to being woken up.
The seductive chuckle on the other end of the line was definitely not Zack’s. “Did I wake you, or are you normally this polite on the phone?” Brogan’s amused voice replied.
I sat up in bed, stifling a groan as my heart rate kicked up a notch. “How did you get my number?” I demanded, though I feared I knew the answer already.
“Your friend Zack gave it to me. Along with his own number and a not-so-subtle hint that he was very available if you happened to turn me down.”
I rubbed my face with my hand and pushed my tangled hair back. Of course Zack gave him my number, and of course he’d take the chance to try and angle his way in at the same time. Zack wasn’t one to miss an opportunity. I sighed.
“Turned you down for what exactly?” I asked, my foggy brain not awake enough yet to be wary.
“Lunch.”
I swore I could hear him smile through the phone. I pulled the phone away from my ear for a moment to glare at it, wishing he could see it. Then I put the phone back to my ear and said, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Normally, I would be, but I’ve got questions to ask you.”
“Then ask me now and let me go back to sleep.”
“I’d rather ask you in person. That way I can tell if you’re lying.” He hesitated a moment and then added in a low voice, “And I want to see you.”
I blinked, unsure I’d heard him right. He wanted to see me? What precisely did that mean? Was that meant to be a come-on, an invitation for more sex? I mean, I wasn’t exactly averse to that idea, even though I’d turned him down the day before. I did have fun toying with him after I had gotten him out of the police station, but as much as I still wanted him, I’d finally found some self-control. I’d made a mistake in sleeping with him the first time. A delicious, sexy mistake. However, it was one I wouldn’t—couldn’t—repeat. Not if I wanted to regain my sanity and get back to my life.
“Kester?” Brogan said hesitantly. “Please.”
I closed my eyes and swore under my breath. Why’d he go and say please? The way he said that word tugged on something deep inside my chest. I couldn’t refuse him when he sounded so…uncertain of himself. It was entirely different from the way he’d seemed when I’d met him.
Finally, I muttered, “Fine. Where and when?”
“Subway, down by that music store. Two o’clock.”
I pulled my phone from my ear to glance at the time. It was just after half past one. “Make it half two, and I’ll be there. And you’re buying the sandwiches.”
He laughed, and I found myself smiling in response. When I realised what I was doing, I forced myself to scowl and said, “See you later.” I hung up before he could say anything back, or before I could say something stupid like, “Let’s skip lunch and go back to your place.”
Damn, the guy was under my skin. I hadn’t been able to screw him out of my system, and obviously I wasn’t getting to avoid him, so I was going to have to come up with some other plan to keep myself in check around him, and fast.
I stood outside Subway, impatiently tapping my foot against the cracked pavement—my heel, then my toe, heel, toe, heel, toe. I could tell it was bugging the guy smoking a cigarette next to me, but I just flipped him off when he glared at me. He dropped his fag, stood on it, and walked away. I pulled my phone out of my jacket pocket to check the time—again. It was almost quarter to three, and there was no sign of Brogan. I gritted my teeth. I hated waiting.
Someone walked out of the Subway door next to me, letting out a blast of warm, food-scented air, and my stomach grumbled at me. I hadn’t snagged breakfast before leaving the house, and I was starving. I glanced through the big glass window of the front of the shop, seeing people inside seated at tables with their sandwiches, and almost drooled. Biting my lip, I checked the time again—ten to three.
Finally, just as I was about to go in and get my own sandwich to relieve the hunger pangs cramping my stomach, someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I whirled around in surprise. Brogan grinned down at me, arrogant and sexy as ever. He was wearing loose, faded jeans with worn Vans trainers and a battered leather jacket over a white t-shirt that clung to the muscles of his chest. His black hair was in disarray, tumbling over his forehead and into his violet eyes. Stubble coated his jaw, creeping up toward his fine cheekbones and around his tempting lips.
All in all, he looked hot and dangerous like an open flame so beautiful, it begged to be touched. Looking at him, I was amazed I’d dared to touch the flame and gotten away unburned—then again, maybe I hadn’t. I certainly felt burned. There was a heat spreading through my lower stomach, a desire to test that flame again, making my fingers twitch and my body clench with longing.
Dammit! How did he do that to me just by looking at me? His grin widened as if he could sense my reaction, and I scowled at him. Bastard.
“You’re late,” I snapped.
He only seemed more amused by my irritation. “My apologies. Are you hungry?”
I glared at him for a second before nodding. He moved to the door and held it open for me. Once again, a blast of that warm air hit me and made my stomach clench with a different kind of hunger than the one he caused. I slipped into the sandwich shop, Brogan behind me. He gestured at a table and told me to sit. I gave him my order—veggie patty with peppers and extra cheese on a toasted six-inch Italian roll, no sauce—and he went up to join the queue at the counter.
He came back five minutes later, carrying two wrapped up sandwiches, and two small bottles of Pepsi Max. The second he handed me my sandwich, I tore off the wrapping and took a huge bite, tasting the warm, soft bread and sticky me
lted cheese. I moaned in delight as my stomach rumbled its appreciation of the food. Brogan watched me with a small smile and hooded eyes as he unwrapped his own sandwich and passed me one of the Pepsi bottles.
We ate in silence for a few minutes, and I was surprised at how comfortable it felt just to sit with him. He watched people walk by outside on the street, and as long as he wasn’t looking directly at me, my hormones seemed to be able to control themselves. So I took the chance to watch him while he wasn’t watching me.
He chewed slowly, his jaw working smoothly while his straight brows pinched together over his eyes thoughtfully. I wondered what on Earth he wanted to ask me so badly. Probably why I’d alibied him out the day before. Problem was, if that was his question, I didn’t have an answer. At least, not a good one. I was still trying to explain it to myself.
Abruptly, he shifted his eyes back to me, and just like that, my body came alive, like a light bulb switching on. I’d noticed his eyes changed with his mood. When I’d been with him at his flat, his eyes had been a dark, rich indigo. When he’d been teasing me in the garage, his eyes had been a playful violet colour. There in the sandwich shop, his eyes were light, more grey than purple.
I wondered what that signified. Whatever it meant, my body had clearly decided it meant sex because the longer he stared at me wordlessly, the hotter I felt. I grabbed my bottle of Pepsi and took a swig of the cold, fizzy drink to cool myself off.
Brogan frowned at me and flicked his eyes away before asking abruptly, “Why did you alibi me out yesterday?”
Ah, there we go, I thought. I shrugged casually, although I felt anything but casual. “Maybe I just felt like I owed you a favour. You were very…generous…last Friday.” I smirked, hoping he wouldn’t see my blush.
His eyes narrowed, turning a darker grey, and he suddenly reached across the table and pinned my hand down under his. I started in surprise, but he didn’t let go.
He locked his gaze heavily on me and said quietly, “No, I want the truth, Kester.” He said my name in a whisper, his tongue caressing the r.
Taken off-guard by his seriousness, I stammered for a moment, unable to focus. “I…um…well…” I shook my head to clear it and looked away. “Honestly? I don’t really know why I did it. I just…I know I don’t know you that well, but I just didn’t believe you could be a murderer, and I know Hartley. I’ve met him before, when he worked on one of my cases with Leighton, and he’s a real hard-ass. I didn’t want him ripping you apart, you know, if you didn’t do anything wrong.”
After all that, Brogan was silent. I glanced at him nervously to see his reaction, but his expression was unreadable. Slowly, he pulled his hand away from mine and folded his arm, tipping his chin down to scowl thoughtfully at the remains of his sandwich. He stayed like that, silently brooding, for ten minutes.
Eventually, I cleared my throat and started to stand. “Um, if that’s all you wanted to know, I should probably—”
He looked up suddenly, eyes wide, and said, “No. I mean, please, stay. I…I’ve got a couple more questions.”
I hesitated, though I didn’t know why. Maybe it was the confused look in his eyes as if he wasn’t sure exactly why I wanted to leave. Truthfully, I didn’t want to. I wanted to stay and sit with him, more questions or not. I liked the thrill of just being near him. That was why I had to leave. The more time I spent with him, the more time I craved with him. I had to cut this thing off at the bud before it grew into something I couldn’t control.
At that moment, my phone rang, saving me from having to make a decision. Gratefully, I took it from my pocket and glanced at the screen. It was Evie. I held up a finger to Brogan. “I’ve got to get this. I’ll just be a minute.”
I wandered across the room into the female toilets, where it was quiet, before answering. “Hey, Evie, what’s up?”
Immediately, I heard her sniffling, and her voice croaked, “I just broke up with James.”
I closed my eyes, hurting for her. It was her third break-up in the last six months, and every time, it wrecked her. Evie desperately wanted someone to love her, but she kept picking all the wrong guys.
“Oh, Evie,” I sighed sympathetically. “What did he do wrong?”
She sniffled again, and I could tell she was trying not to cry. “You know I stayed at his place last night, right? Well, this morning, he kept trying to get me to leave, and I got suspicious. So I left, but I hung around, you know, outside his building. And a little while after I left, this girl went in, and I got a feeling, so I followed her up and she stopped outside James’s door. I saw him let her in, Kez, and…”
She choked on a sob, and my heart cracked. Her voice wobbled as she went on. “I g-got angry, so I barged in after her and found them…g-getting naked on the s-sofa…” She sobbed loudly.
“Shh, Shh, babe,” I soothed. “Listen, tell me where you are now, and I’ll come get you.”
“I’m on Crown Street, near that dentist place you went to for your braces when you were younger.”
“Okay. Okay. Let me call Zack, and we’ll come get you. Just stay there.”
“Thanks, Kez,” she whimpered.
I smiled. “No problem. Love you, babes.”
Evie sniffled again. “Love you too.”
I hung up and dialled Zack’s number, giving the quick version of what was going on and asking if he could come and pick Evie and me up. He said he’d be ten minutes, which gave me enough time to walk down to Crown Street to find Evie.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I left the bathrooms and found Brogan still sitting at our table. For some reason, I’d half-expected him to leave. He looked up at me with concern when I reached the table.
“Everything okay?”
I shook my head. “My best friend just caught her boyfriend cheating, so I’ve got to go and get her.”
He frowned. “Want me to pound him for her?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why would you do that?”
His expression hardened. “I don’t like guys who cheat.”
Both my eyebrows went up now, and he scowled.
“Don’t look at me like that. I sleep around, but only because I never get serious with any one girl. If I found a girl I liked enough to keep, I wouldn’t go around behind her back. I’m an ass, yeah, but I’m not that fucking stupid.”
I held up my hands in surrender. “Okay, sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. But look, I really have to go. So…”
“Wait.” He stood and grabbed my hand as I turned to leave. Then he looked down at where his fingers met mine and said, “I still have questions. Will you come by mine tonight? Just so we can talk? I promise it doesn’t need to be anything else.”
I groaned, and he turned those compelling eyes on me again.
Fuck. I sighed. “Alright, alright! I’ll be round about seven. And it will be just talking, you got me? Nothing else. You ask your questions, I answer, I leave.”
He nodded, looking half-amused and half-irritated. He let go of my wrist. “Fine. I’ll see you tonight.”
I snatched my hand back and ran out the door, feeling like my blood was sizzling in my veins. Damn him! And damn me for agreeing to meet him again—at his flat, no less! Was I a masochist or just stupid? At the minute, I wasn’t sure. Pushing thoughts of Brogan aside for the time being, I pelted down the street toward Crown Street and focussed on how to help my best friend get over yet another broken heart.
Chapter Fourteen
** Kester **
It took almost two hours, half a box of Kleenex, and a tub of Chocolate Brownie ice cream for Evie to cry herself out. Then I gave her some aspirin and a hot water bottle, and tucked her into bed. I stayed by her side, reading a book, until she fell asleep, then turned off the light and closed the bedroom door quietly behind me as I left.
By then, I was hungry again, having only eaten a Subway sandwich and a few spoonfuls of ice cream all day, so I whipped up some buttered toast and a bowl of Frosted Cornflakes, too tired to try and
make anything more complicated. Not that I could cook much anyway. By the time my stomach was full and the dishes were loaded into the dishwasher, it was quarter to seven.
I glanced out the window and saw it was already pretty dark outside, the streetlamps flickering on, and Mr Palmer from down the street was taking his yappy little dog for its evening walk. I thought about giving Zack a call to hitch a lift to Brogan’s, but then I remembered he’d mentioned he had a date, and he wouldn’t be happy if I interrupted. So I resigned myself to walking, grabbed my keys, which had a two-inch long metal dragon-claw key-ring on it. Not quite a knife, but at least it was legal and could be used to gouge someone’s eye out if I really needed to. I scribbled a note for Evie telling her where I’d gone and that I’d be back soon. Then I slung on my leather jacket, and locked the front door on my way out.
Halfway to Brogan’s place, I regretted not calling Zack for a lift after all, date night or not. The street was a lot darker nearer Brogan’s iffier part of town, mostly because only half the streetlights worked. As I walked, my hands shoved in my pockets, I gripped my little dragon-claw key-chain, just in case. There were a couple of scantily-clad, obviously drunk women stumbling down the other side of the road, and a group of hooded guys huddled on the steps of a block of flats. Thankfully, none of them seemed to pay me any attention as I ambled past.
It wasn’t until the lights of Brogan’s building came into view that I got the sense I was being followed. It started as a chill on the back of my neck, and then proceeded to become a full-blown case of the shivers prickling down my spine. Breathing hard with fear, I gripped my key-chain tighter and dared a glance over my shoulder. There was nobody there, but I couldn’t relax. I kept walking, speeding up. Brogan’s building was so close, I just had to make it that far.
