by Liz Crowe
Shit.
Eyes up, Evie. Stop looking.
It was useless.
My eyes kept wandering down his body, soaking in the sexiness that was Kick Hanson.
He chuckled and dipped his head so our faces were centimetres apart. “It’s all yours, baby, you just say the word,” he said, his deep voice causing an explosion of need in me.
Shit.
I placed my hand on his chest and tried to push him away, but, just like the last time, his body didn’t budge. He did move his face away, though, but grinned at me as he did it.
He knows I am close.
So damn close.
I ignored what he’d said. “What are you here for today, Kick?”
He shrugged. “Do I need a reason? I remember when I used to practically live at this house.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I miss those days.”
Regret flared deep within me. “I do, too, Kick, but we can’t go back. That’s not how life works.”
His eyes revealed his own regret, and we stood silently watching each other for a couple of moments. Finally, he said, “Yeah.” Taking a step away from me, he turned back to face Mum and said, “Thanks for the drink, Loretta. I’ll see you soon.”
“Thanks for dropping in,” Mum replied, “come back whenever you want.”
He nodded and then faced me again. Stepping closer, he reached out to cup my cheek and ran his thumb over my lip. “We can’t go back, Evie, but we can sure as fuck go forward.”
Kick had always been able to turn me on with just a look or his voice or the lightest of touches, and now was no different. His touch, his voice, and his words melded together and caused desire to spread to every nerve ending in my body.
The other thing he’d always been able to do was read me well. Awareness flickered in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitched in the slightest of smiles. He traced my lips one more time and then he let me go and said, “I’ll see you soon, too, baby.”
I wrapped my arms around my body as I watched him go.
Hell, Kick Hanson had me.
“Evie,” Mum cut into my thoughts, and I spun around to look at her. “What’s up?”
“Huh?” God, my brain had turned to mush after Kick got to it.
“Well, you came over, so I figure you wanted something.”
I went and sat on the couch with her. “No, I just came to see how you were,” I said, glancing at her to see how she was doing. Usually, tiredness marred her face, but lately she’d been doing better. After Shelly’s death, Mum had sunk into a deep depression and never really recovered. She’d retreated within and hardly left the house. It was only recently she’d started to really come out of it and seemed much happier these days. But it took a lot of work on her behalf, and I knew that, so I did my best to help her out whenever I could and checked in on her regularly.
“Thank you,” she said, giving me a sad smile, “How are you, baby? I worry about you.”
Her words caused a flush of happiness through my body. One of the side effects of her depression was an inability to care for her kids the way a mother should. She’d been unable to show us much affection and that had lasted for years. These days she gave us random pieces of affection so when she did, I grabbed it with both hands and held tight.
“I’ll be okay. You know what it’s like. I’ve just gotta take it one day at a time.”
We sat in silence for a little while and then she astounded me by opening up in a way she never had. “One day at a time is all you have to do. But don’t do what I did, Evie. If you’re struggling, go and see someone to help you. I closed down on you all, and that was the absolute worst thing I could have done. Most of the time, you will probably just want to be left alone, and while you do need that, you also need to talk about what you’re going through. Not all the time, but don’t shut down. Promise me you won’t do that.”
“I promise,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat at her rare openness.
Maybe after all these years, I’d finally get my mum back.
*****
I shut my eyes and let myself slide deeper into the bath water. Darkness surrounded me except for the flickering of some candles I’d set around the bathroom. Lavender for relaxation.
It’d been a long day, and after leaving Mum’s house this afternoon I’d come home, hoping to sink into the couch and not leave it all night. Best laid plans never worked out, though. My neighbour had called me in a panic. Her washing machine had flooded her laundry and she needed help with her kids while she dealt with her emergency. Three hours later, I’d traipsed home even more exhausted.
Thoughts of my father and his predicament filled my mind as I lay in the bath. As much as I tried to force them out, at least just for the duration of my bath, I couldn’t stop them coming. I’d contacted my bank today and begged for a loan, but seeing as I already had a maxed out credit card and a personal loan on my car, they wouldn’t lend me anymore. The two thousand dollars I had saved would hardly help my father so I’d then asked some friends if they could lend me any money but the most they could come up with was another thousand. I had six more days to figure this out and not many people left to ask.
Shit.
I sat up in the bath, water sloshing everywhere because I moved so quickly. Nausea hit my gut and I had to take some deep breaths to get my breathing under control.
What the hell am I going to do?
What the hell is my father going to do?
As I sat there, with my hands gripping the sides of the bath and my concentration focused on regaining my breaths, a loud knock on the front door filled the silence in my house.
Who the hell would be knocking on my door at ten o’clock at night?
I stayed in the bath, waiting to see if they went away, but when they knocked again, I pushed myself up and stepped out of the bath. Wrapping my towel around me without even drying myself off, I stalked to the front of the house.
When I got to the front door, I abruptly stopped.
Was I seriously going to answer the door at this time of night wrapped in a freaking towel?
Before I could even process that question and answer it, the person on the other side called out. “Evie, it’s Kick. Open up.”
Oh my god, he had to be kidding me.
Without any further thought, I yanked the door open and glared at him.
His gaze travelled down my body and then back up to meet my eyes. Stepping forward, he raised one arm up and leant it against the door jamb. “Sweetheart, you’re a sight for sore fuckin’ eyes,” he said.
I huffed out a breath and shook my head at him. “What are you doing here at this time of night, Kick?”
“What? No hello? No invitation in?” His tone was playful, flirtatious, and I knew we were heading into dangerous territory.
I jerked my chin at the door. “Shut it after you,” I said and then began walking down my hall. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen in a minute,” I yelled out as I made my way into my bedroom to put some clothes on.
His boots sounded behind me. “Don’t need to get changed on my account,” he said, his sexy voice causing me to shiver as it drifted across my skin.
I ignored him and continued to the bedroom. No way would Kick and I be having a conversation with me wrapped only in a towel.
When I met him in the kitchen a couple of minutes later, he was sitting at the table with his legs stretched out in front of him and his arms crossed over his chest.
I arched a brow as I sat with him. “You look comfortable there.”
“You do that to me,” he murmured pensively. He appeared to have something on his mind tonight.
“Do what to you?”
He sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his chin in one hand. “Being around you calms me, baby.” His eyes held mine, and time stood still for a moment.
Memories rushed me.
Kick filled so many memories of mine, and
his voice and presence triggered an avalanche I couldn’t stop. My body shivered as they hit me, as the emotions engulfed me.
I took a deep breath. “It doesn’t calm me,” I said softly.
He frowned. “In a good way or a bad way?” He seemed genuinely interested in my answer.
“I’m not sure,” I said softly and then asked, “What did you want to talk to me about?”
He raised his brow. “You’re not even gonna offer me a drink?”
“No drink. Just spill so we can talk, and then you can leave.”
He shifted to lean forward in his chair. “When are you gonna get that I’m not going anywhere?”
“When are you gonna get that I’m not interested?”
He smirked and said, “You talk a good game, baby, but you are more than fuckin’ interested.”
“Just start talking, Kick,” I said, impatient for him to get his words out.
He paused for a second and his face grew serious. “Can we put all the bullshit aside and be honest with each other for a minute?” His eyes implored me to say yes.
I hesitated. Honesty could lead me to trouble here. But after everything we’d ever been through together, he deserved that, at least. I nodded. “Okay.” My voice was anything but sure.
“I want to give us another go,” he said, “and I need to know if I’ve got a shot at making that happen.”
My stomach knotted. A mixture of desire and concern.
Before I could reply, he reminded me, “No bullshit, Evie. I know you’re still pissed at me, but do you think you can move past that?”
Sometimes in life you tell yourself you don’t want something that you really do. And if you tell yourself that for long enough you actually end up believing it. I’d been telling myself for three long years that I didn’t want Kick. And I’d grown to believe it. But sitting here with him now, and stripping back the bullshit, I knew deep in my heart I did want him.
Only a couple of minutes had passed while we sat in silence, but it felt like more. Finally, I said, “I want you, Kick, I’ve always wanted you, but I don’t know how we would make it work. And you know me, I’m a ‘how’ person. If I can’t get my head around how something is going to work, I can’t do it.”
“You think too much, baby,” he said, still staring at me, willing me to want the same thing he did.
“Well, you don’t think enough,” I accused, my voice rising.
“I do when it’s needed, but this . . .” he thumped his hand against his chest, and his voice grew more forceful when he continued, “this is in here. It doesn’t need thought.”
“You know what?” I said as I leant forward, moving my face closer to his, “I can feel it as much as I want in here,” I thumped my chest, “but that means shit if we go back to what we were and change nothing.”
He didn’t say anything, just sat quietly watching me. By the looks of it, he was thinking now. When his phone began ringing a moment later, he answered it with a look of reluctance. I didn’t listen to his conversation but rather left him to go and make myself a cup of tea.
When he joined me in the kitchen, I felt his presence behind me before I heard him.
“I’ve gotta go but I want to continue this conversation. Yeah?”
I faced him and slowly nodded. “Okay.”
“Tomorrow after you finish work?”
I was about to say yes when I remembered I had to keep calling around trying to find money for my dad. “Shit, I can’t after work. I’ve got stuff to do for my dad and then I think Maree is taking me out.”
He frowned. “Is your dad okay?”
I let out a long sigh. “No, he’s gotten himself in debt again.”
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Yeah, that about covers it.”
Some of my hair had fallen across my face, and he reached his hand up to tuck it behind my ear. He let his hand slide down and then he curled it gently around my neck, his thumb rubbing over my throat. My breathing picked up as desire flooded me. I wanted this, but I had to go slow and make sure we figured it all out before we rushed into things.
His head dipped and when his lips brushed mine, need unfurled through my entire body, and I couldn’t stop myself even if I’d tried. I stepped forward and pressed my body into his. My hand landed on his chest and then slid up so I could tangle my fingers in his hair and at the same time pull his head closer to mine.
I needed him.
Needed him as close as I could get him.
As our tongues danced and our bodies came together, I knew there’d never be another man I wanted as much as Kick. God knew, I’d tried to find one, but kissing him now, I experienced that knowledge deep in my core and in my soul.
He slowly ended our kiss and rested his forehead against mine. “Fuck, baby, we need to sort this out because I fuckin’ need to be inside you.”
“I know,” I whispered, breathless from his kiss.
We stayed like that for another few moments and then he finally pulled away. “Tomorrow. I don’t care if it’s fuckin’ midnight or later, you and I are going to talk,” he said with certainty.
After he’d left, I let the excitement and anticipation work its way through me.
I allowed myself to hope that we could find a way to make this work once and for all.
Chapter Six
Kick
Peter Bishop and I had a strange relationship. I felt like my family owed him a lot for what my father had done to him, and I was sure he hated me for everything my father had taken from him. But I was also certain he hated the fact I knew every dark secret he had and that I had bailed him out on more occasions than he cared to admit.
I stood in his living room and watched the broken man in front of me. Fuck, he’d finally hit rock bottom. I’d never known him to admit he had a problem and that’s what he’d just done.
“Who do you owe this time?” I asked, hoping like hell it wasn’t the same guy he’d owed last time. I had nothing on that asshole so would struggle to dig Peter out if that was the case.
His eyes held fear when he gave me the name. “Jonathon Gambarro.”
“Fucking hell!” I yelled, “Why the fuck did you go to him?”
He hung his head for a moment before looking back up at me with regret. “I was running out of options.”
I grabbed the back of my neck and muttered, “Jesus, Peter. How long you got to come up with the money?”
“One week.”
Fuck.
I dropped my hand and stalked into his kitchen. Reaching into a cupboard, I grabbed a glass and then grabbed the bottle of bourbon I knew he had stashed in another cupboard. It had been a while since I’d been to Peter’s house but he was a man of habit, and, sure enough, the bourbon was still there. I poured myself a drink and downed it in one go.
Peter followed me. “I fucked up, Kick.”
I turned my head to look at him, a scowl on my face. “You did more than fuck up this time. Gambarro isn’t known for his compassion.”
“I don’t know what to do. Evie told me she would take care of it, but - ”
I cut him off, “Evie’s not fuckin’ going near this shit fight. I won’t have her involved in this. Do not fuckin’ tell her who you owe or I swear to fuckin’ God I will take you out myself.” Anger spread through me at the mere thought he’d even think to involve Evie in this. Did he not have a clue who he was dealing with?
He didn’t say a word. A good fucking idea because anything he’d say would be the wrong thing at this point. My fists clenched and I slammed my hand down on the counter in frustration. I stared at him for a long moment, trying desperately to contain my rage, and when I couldn’t rein it in any longer, I picked up the glass in front of me and threw it at the wall. “This is the last fuckin’ time, Peter!” I yelled at him. “ If I drag you out of this, and then find out you’ve done it again… so help you God because I sure as fuck won’t be.”
He nodded but remained silent.
He knew he’d
pushed me to the limit.
He knew I was done.
The debt to his family was paid.
*****
Four hours later, I sunk down into a couch at the clubhouse bar. Hyde sat in the couch opposite me, his eyes questioning what was wrong. I still wore my anger at Peter plain for everyone to see. “What’s up with you?” he asked as he drank some of his beer.
I struggled with sharing my dilemma with him but decided I needed to. Any involvement of mine in this could potentially impact the club. I leant forward and rested my elbows on my knees. “My ex’s father owes ten grand to Jonathon Gambarro and the only hope he has of settling the debt is if I step in and help him.”
Hyde’s face clouded over with displeasure. “And what exactly would that involve?”
“I’d have to threaten him with something. I’d need the debt wiped with no payment involved, so that’s the only way to make that happen.”
“Fuck, Kick. This is dangerous territory. You really want to get mixed up with Gambarro? I can assure you once you’re on his radar he’ll have you in his sights and won’t rest ‘til he takes care of you in whatever way he deems fit.”
I blew out a long breath. “I fuckin’ know that, Hyde, but what choice do I have? If I don’t step in, her father is dead.”
“And if you do step in, you’re a target going forward.” He leant forward. “And the club’s a fucking target.”
“Yeah.”
He shook his head and stood. “Stay out of it, Kick. The club doesn’t need any more trouble. We’re still waiting to see if Silver Hell connects us with what you and King did the other night; this is more shit we don’t need.”
Fuck.
*****
“Please, Kick. I’m desperate,” my sister begged me over the phone at three o’clock that afternoon. She needed a babysitter for a couple of hours while she attended her university lecture.
