I yelp as he slaps my ass.
“I—”
His words are cut off as Kade’s arm snaps out, his elbow slamming into the nose of the guy closest to me, breaking it in a bloody crack. His gun is pointed at the other one, and he seems unbothered by the multiple weapons now aimed at him.
“Touch her again and I’ll blow your fucking head off.”
Oh God. We’re going to die.
Kade doesn’t blink, doesn’t lower his gun.
I rest my hand on his back. “Please…”
Please stop. Why are we here? Why do you have a gun? Where is the Kade I grew up with?
“We’ve heard the stories about you. I’m not afraid of you. I’ll take your whore off your dirty hands, and you’ll never see her again.”
Kade sighs, as if this isn’t traumatic or terrifying in the slightest. “Last chance.” His voice is clipped. “Back off.”
He laughs before baring his teeth. “Or what? I’m one of five leaders here, and I—”
Kade pulls the trigger.
I jump with a strangled gasp as the blast rings in my ears. The man’s body falls to the ground, lifeless – dead – while red trickles from the hole between his eyes.
My palm crushes to my mouth to muffle my scream, bile rising in my throat.
Unfazed, Kade tucks his gun into his waistband. “None of you will lay a finger on her – are we clear?”
Dark and intimidating, his tone feels like an arrow glazed in ice shooting through my chest, poisoning me with liquid fear.
“You want my business, none of you will touch her, look at her or even acknowledge her presence.”
To my surprise, they all agree and lower their weapons with hands raised in surrender, and I stay in shock as they continue their business. The man’s blood puddles on the floor at my feet, and I try not to vomit.
If I run, I have nowhere to go.
I grip Kade’s left arm tighter as they discuss drugs, weights of bags they pack into a suitcase, and a contract that should apparently be easy for Kade, considering his experience.
My eyes burn, but I struggle not to look at the dead man next to me.
18
KADE
FLASHBACK 3
Ihaven’t seen Stacey in three days, and I’m debating asking my sister for her number.
It would be way easier if I had it. Or… she’d ignore me and say it was a mistake and that I forced her to kiss me.
Wait. Did I force her? Technically, I barricaded her against the kitchen counter and dared her to kiss me again. Oh shit. That’s not good. Maybe I should apologise? Would she even hear me out?
Dad told me a few nights ago to chill out, because I kept thinking I imagined the kiss. He told me to take a deep breath and name three things I could see, two things I could touch and one thing I could smell. It worked. My lungs filled again, and my blurry vision lessened.
Then he told me to get out of my head and speak to her.
Safe to say I’m still in my head.
Nicotine infiltrates my lungs as I watch the water of the loch rippling, the small boat rocking side to side against the wooden pier, the soft glow from the lights illuminating the outdoor pool.
I still find it ridiculous that we live in Scotland – where it rains almost every day and we get a week of summer a year, if we’re lucky – and have an outdoor pool. I’ve been in it four times, and each one resulted in shrivelled balls and left me close to catching fucking pneumonia.
Luciella and her friends are in it a lot. Not that I intentionally stand exactly where I am now and stare at a certain black-haired beauty for hours on end. Base sat with me once, and I was in my head again, thinking he was looking at her too.
Regardless, he can’t have Stacey. I’ve claimed her and no one else can have her but me.
Kind of. I think. Probably not, but I’d like to.
Wait. How does one claim a person?
If I spoke these thoughts aloud, she’d flee the country and I’d be locked up with Dad. And I can’t have that, because I need to kiss her again. Or speak to her. Or have her attention for longer than one minute while my virgin hands shake.
The hard-on I keep getting every time I think back to that moment in the kitchen is becoming a biological hazard.
I pull out my phone and see Luciella has posted a picture of our main sitting area with the TV, captioned movie night with Stacey, my mum and Ewan .
The cigarette nearly drops from between my fingers.
She’s down there.
Knowing she’s down there has me quickly showering, brushing my teeth and shoving on a pair of boxers and sweats. I don’t bother putting on a top – the manor is roasting.
Before I can leave my room, I halt in my steps, blow out a breath and run my hands through my hair before pulling my phone out.
I open my messages with Jason.
Me: She’s here. What should I do?
Jason: Giana said to be cool and pretend nothing happened.
I frown. That sounds like the worst advice ever.
Me: Why?
Jason: Who the fuck knows. She winked when I asked. Just chill and don’t stab her like your dad did to Aria.
Rolling my eyes, I chew my lip to suppress a laugh while firing back a response.
Me: He didn’t stab her; his friend did, dick. One day, when my dad comes for you and your dad, I’ll stand back and watch.
Jason: Haha! Now fuck off and don’t embarrass yourself. Good luck. You need it with those looks.
Asshole.
I stuff the phone into my pocket, spray on some aftershave and head downstairs. I try not to look at Stacey; she’s sitting on the sofa in a little red dress and fluffy bed socks.
“You’re coming this time, right?” Luciella asks her.
“Can’t.”
“Why?”
She shrugs. “I just can’t. ”
I sit on the one-seater between the two main sofas, one of which is taken up by my sister and Stacey, the other by Ewan and my mum.
Pausing the TV, Mum asks, “What are we watching?”
“Is The Greatest Showman there?” I ask.
Luciella groans. “We’ve watched that, like, a thousand times!”
I huff. “It’s a good movie.”
“What’s it about?” Stacey asks, and every drop of blood in my body turns to ice when she looks directly at me.
“Some money-hungry dude and a musical,” my sister thankfully answers. “He cheats on his wife and still gets a happy ending. Bullshit.”
Mum’s mouth drops open. “Language!”
I snort and shake my head. “It’s a good movie.”
My sister lifts the remote. “I’m in the mood for a horror.”
The lights dim, and the movie starts, but all I keep thinking is that I should’ve beaten my sister to answer Stacey.
I would have given a better fucking description. Nevertheless, I’m intrigued enough to stay down here instead of escaping to my room.
The movie has been on for at least an hour, and I haven’t paid any attention to it.
Luciella keeps screaming and jumping out of her skin; Ewan looks like he’s ready to fall asleep.
A chill wracks my body, but I can’t be fucked going to get a top. I grab a blanket from the basket near the sofa instead.
“Kade, sweetheart, can you share that with Stacey?” my mum asks. “She looks cold.”
There’s a space beside her, Luciella on her other side, but I’d rather stick pins in my eyes than take it.