Home: Ky & Nick (Six Degrees Book 1)

by Sandy Smith

  “Oh, of course. You probably have to do Christmas with your Mum. Sorry, I didn’t even think. I shouldn’t have assumed you would spend Christmas with me. Sorry.”

  “I don’t have to do Christmas with Mum. But I—I guess I always have. I mean, Christmas is for family, and her and Tim are it, so…”

  “Of course, sorry. Can we still see each other?”

  “Huh? Oh God, you idiot. Of course I’m spending Christmas with you! I thought that went without saying, but apparently not. I guess I kind of assumed we would spend it with Mum and Tim, but that’s not fair, so can we maybe think about it now that you know you are coming home? I didn’t mean we have to spend it with Mum and Tim just because I always have. We can do our own thing.”

  “Love, I would love to spend Christmas with you guys, if that’s okay. I spent the past couple with the James’s, and I would like to see them sometime over the holidays, but as long as I’m with you, then I don’t really mind where.”

  We only spoke for a few minutes more before we hung up. I laid awake for quite a while, thinking through what I wanted for Christmas. I knew what I really want more than anything, but I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. I would definitely need some help. First thing in the morning, I called Eric.

  I had just finished at the gym and was changing into jeans and my Arrow T-shirt Tim got me after a long discussion over who was hotter—Stephen Amell or John Barrowman (spoiler alert, Tim was wrong, the correct answer is both together). It was several years old now and nice and soft.

  My phone rang, and I was surprised to see Ian’s name. He was supposed to be away for the week with his wife.

  “Missed me already, Ian?”

  “Where are you?” His tone of voice had me on alert.

  “Just leaving the gym. What do you need?”

  “Can you get to Orange quickly?”

  “If you need me to. Why?”

  “Aimee and Bailey Short have just presented to ED at the hospital there. Get an unmarked and call me back once you’re on your way.”

  “Give me ten.” I ran across the street and up through the station, grabbing my spare kit bag and then keys from the lockbox, not bothering with the paperwork.

  Once I jumped in the Subaru STI, entered Orange Base Hospital into the GPS, and exited the carpark, I called Ian back.

  Apparently, a cleaner at Orange Base Hospital recognized Aimee Short from Facebook posts and alerted the nurses, who called the police. The kids had given fake names, saying they didn’t have their Medicare card because Aimee had left her purse at work. Bailey might have had appendicitis and, if so, might go into surgery. Police from Orange were at the hospital but at this stage had been told not to approach Aimee unless she tried to leave.

  Once Ian updated me, he asked what my ETA was so he could let the officers in Orange know. I glanced at the GPS and then at the clock. “It says three and a half hours. I can’t get through the mountains too quick. Give me two and a half. I should get there around ten-ish.”

  At 9:20, I called him back to say I was fifteen minutes out and to see if there was any update. They were waiting for Bailey to go in for surgery, but nothing else was new. I pulled into the emergency department, leaving the car in the police bay. I had to go in through the public doors but had no trouble finding the local cop. After a quick check-in, I explained we were only to detain Aimee if she ran.

  The Nurse Unit Manager pointed out Bailey's bed in a private room, making this a lot easier. When I approached the door, I watched for a minute. Aimee sat and held Bailey’s hand, whispering to him. He appeared to be pretty dosed up on pain meds. I pulled my identification out of my pocket and stood in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. When Aimee didn’t seem to notice me, I cleared my throat. She glanced up with red, sad eyes. “Hi, Aimee.”

  I could see the moment she realized what was happening, her eyes widening in fear, and then she frantically looked from Bailey to the doorway. Even with her terror, she was never going to run. Not with Bailey laying helplessly in the hospital bed. She had left not to protect herself, but to protect him. There was no way she was going to leave him here.

  But still, she backed as far away from me as she could without letting go of Bailey’s hand.

  “Aimee, it’s okay. You’re not in any trouble. Please just sit down so you don’t stress Bailey out, and we can talk, okay?”

  I wasn’t sure she even heard the words through her panic.

  “The nurses said he is going to be fine. It’s a really simple surgery, and then he will just need some medication for a bit. You’ve done a good job taking care of him.”

  Frantically, she shook her head. As she backed herself right up against the wall beside the head of his bed, I took the chair furthest from her and sat down so I wasn’t between her and the door. It gave her the illusion she wasn’t wrapped, that I wasn’t blocking her in. But there was no way she could move faster than me and the two officers outside.

  “Please,” I pleaded softly. “I want to talk to you. I think I know what Jeff was doing to you. What he was doing to Bailey, or was going to do. I’m not really sure about that. We know part of what he did, but I really need your help to make sure he can’t do that anymore. I know that’s not a fair responsibility to put on you, but I am desperate here. I want him and Stacey to be punished. I want them to go to prison. Well, honestly, I want a lot more than that, but I will work with what the law lets me do. I can’t promise you how any of this is going to play out. I really, really wish I could. What I can promise you is that I believe that he was hurting you, and you took Bailey to protect him. That was incredibly brave. To care about someone else so much. Please let me help you. Please let me help Bailey.”

  While I was talking, Aimee hadn’t moved, other than the tears streaming down her cheeks. But as I let the silence continue, she began to look restless, and finally, she sat in the other seat, slumping in defeat. Close enough I could reach out and touch her, but I sat still and waited for her to be ready.

  “I tried to tell Stacey once… but she… she didn’t believe me.” Her voice was croaky and small. With her shoulders slouched and her clothes dirty and sweaty, she looked so much smaller than the photos. My heart broke for her and her brother. No one, especially family, should ever make someone feel so small.

  I waited some more.

  “Mum and Stacey are sisters. They are basically best friends. I know if Stacey didn’t believe me, Mum wouldn’t either. And I couldn’t do that to them. Dad was unemployed for so long, and he only got that job because of Jeff. I couldn’t be the reason he lost it. But when I saw the photo… I couldn’t let… He…”

  She began to sob, and I knew she needed a moment, so I stood slowly and walked outside to get her some water. I kept an eye on the room door even though I knew she wasn’t going anywhere.

  When I passed her the water, she stared at it and then quietly thanked me.

  Not long later, Bailey was taken upstairs to surgery, and we were directed to the surgical waiting room, where we sat in silence for about an hour.

  “What happens now? To me? To Bailey?”

  I leaned forward and put my elbows on my knees. “Now we help each other. We need to know if there is a chance your parents knew. I have spoken to them, but it’s possible I am wrong about them, so I need to know from you. We need to talk a bit more, and then we’ll work out what you and Bailey need. What do you need to move forward, to start to heal, to feel safe again? That is all going to be a very long road. Making sure Jeff can never hurt anyone else is only a small part of that process. What you and Bailey need is the most important thing.”

  “Do they hate me?” Her voice was so quiet I almost wasn’t sure I was hearing her right.

  I shut my eyes. “No. They don’t. They are in pain, and they feel guilty, but they love you. I have no doubt.”

  She let out a shaky breath. “Could you tell them I’m sorry?”

  “I don’t think they need you to apologise. The doctor s
aid it will be a while longer. Let’s grab a bite to eat while we wait. C’mon, I’m starving.”

  Sitting with Aimee was a long night, even once Bailey was settled in a ward room after surgery. She refused to leave the hospital, so the nurses set up a cot in her brother’s room for her. And I napped a little on the chair in the hall.

  The following couple of days were long and tiring, and listening to Aimee’s story left me drained and completely in awe of how she had looked after Bailey for the past few months while fruit picking for cash. All the interviews were held at the hospital. Once we were confident their parents had no knowledge of the abuse, Ian was sent to deliver the good news: they could finally be reunited with their children.

  Just after lunch on Thursday, I drove home in a daze. I probably should’ve known better than to drive like that, but I needed a shower and my own bed. I had rung Nick when I left Orange, and he spent over three hours on the phone with me, listening to me and keeping me company on the drive. Simply needing his voice, I asked him everything about Hong Kong. He told me about light shows and ferries. He described the best dumplings he had ever eaten, and I could picture it all.

  When I pulled up to my place, Mum and Tim got out of their car, parked by the curb.

  Mum hugged me. “Nick texted us. I know you don’t want company, but we have some food for you to eat, after you take a shower.”

  “Nick texted you?” I asked dumbly.

  Tim nodded. “He texted a couple of hours ago to say he was worried about you and asked us to come check on you.” He smiled and shook his head, then continued. “I think he has texted six, or was it seven times, sweetheart? Just to check we would have the right food and to make sure we had milk for tea in case you were out. And to double check we were getting the aioli sauce, not the tartare.”

  Mum smiled too. “Actually, it was nine times. He texted while you were in the fish and chip shop twice to confirm we would be here when Ky got home. Texting us nine times for a simple fish and chips order, like I can’t look over my own son.” She winked at me. “I really like that boy.”

  “So do I.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Three separate texts throughout the day confirmed Nick would still get back tonight and couldn’t wait to get home. I figured a home-cooked meal in addition to other ways of welcoming him home might be appreciated. God, it had been a long week.

  Smiling, I carried the bags of groceries up the stairs, juggling them all to fiddle with the keys. Once I had finally got them into the kitchen, I preheated the oven. I then took a quick look around the apartment to see if anything needed to be tidied up. It all looked good enough, so I concentrated on getting the herb butter chicken ready and into the oven. Now I was left waiting impatiently for Nick’s text to say he’d landed. I put the salad together, and my phone beeped with a message just before the timer on the oven. After removing the chicken and putting it on the bench, I grabbed the phone.

  I’m in the car on the way. Be there in twenty minutes. I have a gift for you. Well, us. Okay, me. I have a gift for me. Be ready. I fucking need you.

  I read the text twice before deciding if I read it a third time, Nick would be too late to enjoy the prep I had already done in anticipation. I jumped in the shower, washing all the important areas very thoroughly, again, and towelling off as quickly as possible. I had been pacing up and down the lounge area for four or five minutes when I heard the door.

  When the door opened and I finally saw him, my knees nearly buckled. But it wasn’t his blonde hair, perfect build, or stunning blue eyes that caught my attention this time. It wasn’t even that accent, wrapping around me as he moaned my name. It was his heart, clearly visible with the way he looked at me and completely mine. We both stepped forward at the same time and wrapped ourselves around each other. His warmth and his scent almost brought tears to my eyes. I tucked his head into my neck and stroked the back of his head. We held each other, not moving, simply breathing each other in.

  The anticipation and nerves I felt while waiting melted away into a puddle of desperation. I wanted that breath on the back of my neck, I wanted those warm hands holding me down. I pulled my head back only enough to look into his eyes.

  “I missed you, Ky. So fucking much.”

  I knew it, I really did, but hearing it whispered with such reverence was so much more than I had ever imagined.

  “I missed you too,” I whispered into his lips as I surged forward and took his mouth with mine. I held him to me, terrified of letting go. I needed more. I needed all of it. All of him. We slowed our kisses, and I leaned towards his ear. “I need you. Please.”

  He shivered as my lips ghosted over his ear, before pulling back and regaining his composure.

  “I need to have a quick shower. You need to lie face down on the bed, naked, and wait for me.”

  So I did. Lying still had in no way slowed my heart rate. After wriggling, trying to get comfortable for the first minute, I shoved a pillow under my hips to ease the pressure on my rock-hard cock. It had the added benefit of leaving my arse on display for when Nick walked back in.

  I could feel him move around the room. Then the bed dipped beside me, and I clenched my teeth, anticipating his touch.

  “Before I get in the shower, I need to give you my present.”

  I was getting more than a little impatient that he still hadn’t touched me yet. “I have a better idea for what you can give me right now.”

  I felt him smile rather than saw it. “Well, selfishly, it is a present for me too. Mmmm. Whatever you cooked smells amazing, but it will have to keep. I think we are going to be busy for a bit.”

  I heard the click of the lube bottle, and I pushed my forehead into the bed as my cock started leaking. God, I was trained like Pavlov’s dog to produce precum the moment I heard that sound.

  “God, you look good enough to eat.”

  “Feel free,” I threw back at him.

  Finally, finally, I felt Nick’s hands on me. One warm hand ran up my back and then back down. Painfully slow. I was panting by the time his hand reached my arse, one finger lazily running down my crack without even pausing where I was desperate for him.

  “Please,” I moaned.

  “Don’t rush me, love. I have missed this, and I am going to savour it.”

  I groaned, realizing he intended to torture me. Then something was running around my rim. Not a finger, not his cock. My brain was so hazy it took a moment to realise it was a plug. I lifted my head, but before I could turn to look, he pushed it slowly inside. I wanted to say something. I wanted to swear at him for torturing me. I wanted to warn him I wasn’t going to last. But I couldn’t form sentences. Or words. Or syllables.

  I think I made some kind of noise, but I was trying to concentrate on my breathing, so I wasn’t entirely sure. When I felt his warm lips press to my arse, I clenched involuntarily, increasing the pressure on the plug even more.

  “Now be a good boy and stay there while I shower.”

  I tried to moan out a protest but couldn’t. It felt like every part of my body was on edge.

  “So impatient, baby.”

  My jaw clenched, my fists grabbed the sheets, and every movement of my hips increased the stimulation. I tried to lay still. I tried so damn hard. Blood was rushing in my ears, but no matter what else was going on, my entire body was still in tune with wherever Nick was. I heard the water come on; I heard the zip on his pants opening; I heard clothes drop to the floor. I thought it couldn’t get any worse. Or any better.

  And then he moaned. “God, this water feels so damn good, Ky.”

  I was on the edge of losing it. I couldn’t think or even breathe. I groaned, loud enough for him to hear as the water turned off. And then his voice was closer. It wasn’t difficult to guess when he saw me. The sudden intake of breath at the same time his steps betrayed him. I gave my arse a little wiggle.

  “Mmm,” he moaned.

  God, that voice. How did that voice hit me every damn tim
e?

  “Please, fuck, Nick, please,” I begged. I didn’t care how desperate I sounded anymore—I was desperate. It was too much. Just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, those hands, those warm hands, were gently on my arse separating my cheeks. And then his tongue, wet and warm, ran from behind my balls up to the base of the plug and traced lazy warm wet circles around it. I opened my mouth to beg one last time, but I couldn’t. No words came out, only a soft desperate sob.

  “Shhh, love, okay, no more waiting. I’m sorry. I’m going to look after you.”

  Slowly, so slowly the butt plug slipped free. I was expecting, praying for his fingers, but then I was enveloped in Nick’s warmth, Nick’s smell, Nick’s heat as his cock pushed inside. My whole body heaved a sigh of relief, and I could finally breathe again as I felt him fill me slowly, completely. We both moaned while he paused as deep in me as he could get. He rocked slowly a few times, before quickening the pace. I knew I wasn’t going to last, but from the sounds of his breathing, neither was Nick. And that was okay—we had plenty of time.

  Less than two minutes later, we lay completely sated, our breaths heaving as we tried to recover for round two.

  I pulled Nick into my chest, and he nuzzled into me and sighed. “Welcome home, Nick.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Christmas Day

  It was one of those dreams that felt so good. Nick and I were laying on a beach, and he was murmuring into my ear. The beach was crowded, but Nick didn’t seem to care as he kissed his way down my naked body. I had no idea why I was completely naked at the beach, but with Nick’s mouth moving in the direction it was going, I wasn’t going to question it. His mouth trailed lazily down my chest and stomach, kissing and licking its way to my dick, who was very interested in saying hello.

  “Nick,” I moaned.

  It took me a moment to realise I wasn’t on the beach but lying in bed, the sun streaming through the window with Nick’s tongue trailing down my chest.