Twisted Truth A Trust Vs Lie Novel Book One Maria Macdonald Copyright 2017 Maria Macdonald All Rights Reserved This book is a work of fiction. Any ref...
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Twisted Truth A Trust Vs Lie Novel Book One Maria Macdonald Copyright 2017 Maria Macdonald All Rights Reserved This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental. All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles, and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
This book has been written using UK English and contains some euphemisms and slang words that form part of the British everyday spoken word. Please remember that these words are not misspelt, they are UK English and slang terms that form part of the every day British lifestyle. If you would like further explanation, please do not hesitate to contact the author—contact details have been provided, for your convenience, at the end of this book.
Editing by Swish Design & Editing Formatting by Swish Design & Editing Proofreading by Klaire Sutherland Cover design by Hart & Bailey Design Co. Cover Image Copyright 2017
For Yvonne Eason. My book world saviour in so many ways. I’d be lost without you, Yvonne. All my X’s and O’s are for you. xoxoxo.
I lost my way all the way to you and in you I found all the way back to me.
- Atticus
She was his only one. His heart felt cold and pain and flint, if it did not feel her touch. He may never be hers, but she would always be his. His forever, for always. As time ebbed away, his body would turn to sand, but his soul would remain, in the ashes, in the dark. And it would still hold a single love. Her.
-Maria Macdonald
One lie can make you question every truth. I used to believe in true love. Until he broke me. Lesson learnt. Where there’s love, there’s lies. I used to believe I wasn’t what she needed. Until I let her love in. I’ve changed for her. I want her to believe in me like I need to believe in myself. Isaac James stayed out of my life for five years. He wasn't to blame, after all, protecting me imprisoned
him. Now he’s back. The chemistry is still there, the tension is still there, the love is still there… the pain is still there. Isaac James was my rock, my first love… my family. Olivia McKenna has always been my weakness. I’d do anything to protect her, which I proved, despite it taking me to prison. I’ve stayed away, trying to do the right thing. I thought I was still protecting her. But, I’m lost without her… even if I’m not sure I can be what she needs. Olivia McKenna was my forever… for always.
Dedication Blurb Table of Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty-One Chapter Thirty-Two Chapter Thirty-Three Chapter Thirty-Four Epilogue Playlist Acknowledgments Connect With Me Online About the Author –Maria Macdonald
OLIVIA (Aged Six and Three-Quarters) I told Mummy about the teacher being horrible to me yesterday. She wasn’t happy. When I told her and Daddy that Mrs Hoardman had made me face the corner for the whole of playtime, Daddy’s face got all squinty. Mummy asked why I’d been made to do that. I told her all of it, and I didn’t lie, not once. Mrs Hoardman had said that all the toys had to stay in their own corners. The books are in the blue corner, the blocks are the yellow corner. And I was a pirate in the red dress-up corner, but I wanted to read a book. I didn’t mean to go over to the blue corner with my pirate clothes and sword
on, but I forgot. Mummy says that sometimes we forget things and it’s an accident. That’s what happened to me. Mrs Hoardman shouted and I said I was sorry, but her face nearly turned purple, and even Jenny Burns started crying. When I told Mummy, her face turned squinty like Daddy’s, and she looked at him and said, “This will be sorted tomorrow.” I didn’t know what she meant, but Daddy nodded and told me to give him a cuddle. I got to sit on Daddy’s lap for ages. Then Uncle Dane came over, and Mummy told him. Uncle Dane picked me up and tickled me lots. I think they forgot when it was my bedtime because I stayed up late. This morning Mummy is talking to Mrs Hoardman. They have cross faces, especially Mummy. I have been quiet for ages, but I need to tell Mrs Hoardman something. I keep pulling her skirt, but she doesn’t notice me. I try again and tug her skirt. “Mrs Hoardman,” I whisper quietly. “Mrs Hoardman.” Now I need to pee. I hop from one foot to the other and pull Mrs Hoardman’s skirt again. “What Olivia?” She is cross, although not as much as usual now that Mummy is here. Mummy looks at me, her face is smiley. “What is it, honey?” I blink and look back to Mrs Hoardman’s cross face. “My Uncle Dane said, if you shout at me again
or make me stand in the corner, he’s going to come down here and swing you around by your nipples.” I came home from school today and spent all day with Mummy. It was the best day. Mummy spoke to Uncle Dane on the phone and was cross with him. Everyone was cross, but my Daddy laughed.
LIVVY (Aged Ten) “Stop it! Stop it!” I jump up and down trying to reach my lunch bag. Even though I do ballet, the boys are so much taller, and I just can’t reach. Christopher Palmer is always horrible. He picks on me more since my cousins, Isaac and Tobias, moved up to the local high school, but it’s okay, I can take care of myself. Lawson is my other cousin and their little brother. I never tell him about Christopher as he’s only nine, and I don’t want him to get in trouble with Mrs Petty. She’s a mean cow bag. Mrs Petty never liked Tobias and Isaac when they went to this school, and she has sure never liked me. Christopher’s her grandson, so she always believes him, even though he’s a big fat liar.
“Chris, give me my lunch!” I shout again, but he just laughs and looks to his friends, Martin and Carl, who laugh with him. I can feel the heat creeping up my neck, and I know they’re going to point out my red face in a minute too. “Awww, poor O-livia, let’s see what your mummy packed you today shall we, Hairy Beast?” Chris says, chucking my lunch over to Martin, who eagerly opens the box. The taunts started the minute Toby and Isaac left. Before, Chris would only tease me when they weren’t around and he never called me names. Then bang, one day he seemed to create this rumour about me having hairy legs and then the nickname Hairy Beast was officially mine. “Ooo, ham sandwich,” Martin adds. “Should you really be eating one of your own kind? Well, piggy?” “Watch out, lads, she’s turning red,” Carl adds, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. What I did next, secured my nickname for the next year of middle school and the first year of high school. The Rhino. Perfect. I’m so cross, my skin prickles with embarrassment, and there’s a circle of people surrounding us now, all laughing at me. So I run full pelt, straight toward Chris. His eyes only widen at the last minute when he realises what I’m doing, but it’s too late. I barrel head first into his
midsection taking him completely off his feet, and we both fall with a thud to the ground. I remember very little of what happened next. Chris was crying, and I was reigning punches down on his face one after the other. Now Mum has come to school to collect me. She’s in with Mr Price, the headmaster, and Mrs Petty is in there too. I can hear raised voices and I know they’re not happy with me. I gave Chris a fat lip. I cross my arms with annoyance when I think about all the mean things he’s done and said to me. The door creaks open and out steps a very angry looking Mrs Petty. She glances down at me with a sneer and walks off. “Now, Olivia, please come in and sit down,” Mr Price states. I follow him inside and listen as he tells me why my behaviour is unacceptable. My mum says nothing but sits close to my side. “Olivia, you cannot go around pushing people over. Violence is never the answer,” he tells me firmly. “What if I kick him in his willy? My Uncle Dane says if a boy is doing something he shouldn’t be, then I can kick him in his willy,” I tell Mr Price matter-of-factly. His face turns red and he looks to my mum, I look up to her too. She’s doing the scrunchy thing with her face that she always does when she’s trying not to laugh.
“Mrs McKenna, I suggest you take Olivia home today and try to explain why this sort of behaviour will not be tolerated at this school.” My mum stands telling me to get up and grab my things. “Mr Price, if you want me to make sure Olivia understands her behaviour was unacceptable, then can I also assume you’ll make sure Christopher Palmer is punished for his behaviour, not just today, but over the course of Livvy’s school life? Or are family members of teachers exempt from being taught how to act like decent human beings?” Mr Price splutters as Mum grabs my hand and we walk out of school. My mum rocks.
LIV (Aged Fifteen) “Him? Really, Liv?” Isaac drawls beside me as we make our way to English Lit class. Well, I make my way there. Isaac is in sixth form now and as such seems to do what he wants. “Why not? Dean Chester is hot, and he likes me,” I reply, pulling the gum from my mouth and
twirling it around my finger. Isaac and I have always been the closest out of our family. Sometimes he’s more like my best friend than my cousin. I’d never tell Victoria that though, as she believes she’s my closest friend. Isaac looks at my finger and raises an eyebrow. I roll my eyes at him but deposit the gum into the nearest bin. “He’s a dick,” is his only reply. “You say that about every guy. When Tommy wanted to go to the cinema with me, you said he was a dick too.” “He was, and not twenty-four hours later he was back with Leanne.” I huff and roll my eyes, but it’s not something I can deny. “When Richard wanted to take me to the school disco, you told me he was also a dick.” “And when you said no and he spread that rumour?” He deadpans as we draw to a stop in the corridor. You punched him. I remember, but keep the thought to myself. “Whatever.” I kick my shoe against the brick wall as we wait outside my class. “Okay, so tell me oh wise one… what’s wrong with Dean?” I question, placing my hand on my hip. “Well, last weekend he was at Adrian’s party and he had Tasha pinned against the wall, not sure how far that went.”
I groan and drop my head backwards. “Why is every guy that’s interested in me an arsehole?” Isaac doesn’t say anything, just shrugs his shoulders. “And why wasn’t I invited to Adrian’s party?” I stomp my foot. “I’ll see you later, Via.” He ignores my question, smiles at my frown, then walks away. Almost from nowhere, Charlotte, Isaac’s latest girlfriend, appears and latches onto his arm.
LIV (Aged Sixteen and a Half) “He’s leaving.” “What do you mean he’s leaving?” my best friend, Victoria, screeches down the phone. “What I said, Tori, he’s leaving. He’s going into the Army.” “Well, can’t you… I don’t know, ask him if he wants a last fling? You know, because he won’t be able to for a while?” “Of course he’ll be able to Tori. This isn’t the nineteen forties, women are allowed in the Army these days you know,” I tell her with a grin on my
face because it seems like the right thing to do, when in truth, I feel like I’m being ripped apart at the seams. “Anyway, he has his career now, and I have dance to focus on.” “Pfft, whatever. You may not be able to see it Livvy, but I’ve told you for ages that he has a thing for you. God! Every time you attempt to date someone he cockblocks you!” I can almost see her face becoming red with annoyance. “I’m not sure cockblock is the right term in this situation, Tori.” I grin again, and it’s genuine this time. “Right, well he has a cock, and he blocks you from seeing other guys… that is the very definition of cockblock, Liv. Don’t question me on this,” she states. I giggle, but only in my head and not out loud. I know she’s touchy about this subject. There has been many a party or social event when she has wanted to double date, but something has always gotten in the way of me being able to join in. Once we were all set to meet some boys at the local bowling alley, and ten minutes before I was leaving to meet Tori, my hamster Elmo got out of his cage. It was the first and last time he ever escaped. Isaac was on the games console in my room. I’d gone into my sister Eleanor’s bedroom because, although she had moved out, half of her makeup stash remained. I grabbed the extra-length
mascara and rushed back to my room before my mum noticed me. I had just sat down at my dressing table, eyes wide, mouth hanging open and about to apply a coat of mascara to my top lashes when in the mirror, I spotted something moving. Screeching with worry, I spun around and bolted across the room shouting for Elmo. I glanced at his home and saw the metal cage had come unclipped from the plastic bottom. That night I spent over an hour getting the bloody hamster back in his cage. Isaac was no use, telling me he couldn’t help because he was playing video games. Then there was the time I was supposed to be going to the swimming pool with Tori, and my swimsuit went missing that very morning. It turned up three days later in my junk cupboard. That particular day Tori came to the rescue with one of her spare bikinis. We got to the pool, met the boys, and ten minutes later Isaac, Tobias, and their friends all turned up at the same pool. Five minutes after that, the boys we went there to meet had to leave unexpectedly. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. Isaac—both the pain in my arse and the ache in my heart. “No, you’re right Tori, but that doesn’t change anything. He doesn’t feel any way about me. I think he’s just always figured it was his job to watch out for me. You know, like a big brother.”
Tori gripes down the line, but because she’s such a good friend, she knows the conversation isn’t going any further, so she wisely remains silent.
LIV (Eighteen Today - Happy Birthday to Me) “Via.” That voice, it hits every part of me and I spin around looking at a not too much older—but judging by the look in his eyes—a much wiser and more experienced Isaac. “Isaac,” I brokenly whisper. My eyes instantly fill with tears. He’s been in the Army for eighteen months now and apart from two flying visits, he’s stayed away. I thought he wasn’t due home for another two weeks and never expected him to be back for my birthday. “Missed you,” he exhales the words into my hair as he wraps me up in his now very muscular sixfoot-two body. I can’t reply as the tears choke me, and a sob becomes a hiccup. “Hey, I’m home,” he whispers, leaning back and placing a finger under my chin until I’m staring
back at his big, deep, blue eyes again. It’s been too long. “Yeah Isaac, you are… but for how long?” I push the question out through my wet, salty lips. His gaze moves away from mine and hits the floor. “Not long enough,” he tells me so quietly that I wonder if I was supposed to hear. “Hey baby, so this is the famous Isaac, huh? How you doing, brother?” Charlie picks that moment to walk over and pretend to be a boyfriend to me. I tense as he wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Brother?” Isaac rumbles, and I can feel a blush spreading across my cheeks. Charlie is a boy, Isaac is a man—the thought has never been more apparent to me than at the moment they meet. “Dude, chill.” Charlie laughs, and I inwardly groan as Isaac raises an eyebrow. “Isaac, this is Charlie,” I introduce, trying not to stare into Isaac’s brooding eyes. “Charlie,” I step away from Isaac, who gives me a questioning look. “This is my… this is my… my… Isaac.” I can’t bring myself to say cousin. Every time that word hits my brain, it tells me my feelings for him are wrong… bad… dirty. He’s my cousin, and although legally I could still be with him, people would judge. I know he’s not my blood relative, but people would still cast aspersions. It shouldn’t matter, but the truth is my family would judge, and
I couldn’t bear that. Isaac holds out his hand, and Charlie slaps it in an awkward high-five motion. I cringe and close my eyes hoping that when they open, this scene playing out in front of me is just a bad dream. If I’m lucky, I’ll wake up in A Level English naked in front of the class... anything has to be better than this. Two hours later, and Charlie is wasted. “Come on, I’ll take you home,” I tell him with a sigh. “Babe… you’re the bessst,” he drawls, clinging to my shoulder and using me as an anchor to hold himself up. We slip out of the party. I’m not quite sure how I manage to get out unseen, what with me being the birthday girl, as well as having a drunk man-boy whisper shouting and hanging onto me as I try to make it through the door sideways. I realise I haven’t gone unnoticed when only a few feet outside, Isaac appears. Wordlessly, he grabs one of Charlie’s arms and hauls it around his shoulder taking his whole weight and dragging him out to the kerb, past my little red car—the one my parents bought for me last year for my seventeenth birthday. While it’s cute, it’s also old and tiny. Instead, he walks over to a black, shiny truck beeping the locks. Pulling open the door, he pushes Charlie into the passenger seat and then spins around to face me. “Come on.” He grabs my hand, and I feel the
spark ignite between us as he leads me around to the other side. “Get in,” he tells me, opening the driver’s door and nodding. I furrow my brow, confused as to why I’m getting in the driver’s side, but he nods again, and I climb in. Then I see there’s a bench seat, so I scoot to the middle. Isaac climbs in after me, and the minute he’s in the cab he fills the space both with his stature and his aura— dangerous. I let my eyes roam over the interior space. “I’ve spent a fair bit of time overseas, I like the American trucks,” he explains and I shrug. “Where does your boy live?” he asks. “London Road,” I tell him. He starts the engine and it judders, rocking from side to side, before he pulls away. “So you’re okay?” I ask. “Yep. I’m all good, Via, you?” he replies. “Fine.” “Good.” I wonder why things are suddenly so awkward. “You didn’t write,” I whisper the words. I’m not sure I want him to hear, or to answer, but it’s something I feel the need to say out loud. “No.” He doesn’t speak again, and we ride in silence to Charlie’s house. “Here… this is it,” I tell him as he slows down on London Road. He pulls up and jumps out, helping me get Charlie to his house. I knock a
couple of times. Charlie lives in a shared house with three other guys, but I only know two of them, Spence and Calum. After knocking again Calum throws the door open and immediately spots Charlie. “Oh fuck, not again. I don’t know why you put up with him and his shit, Olivia,” Calum says groaning. He grabs Charlie from our grasp and pulls him inside giving a small chin lift to Isaac. I walk back to Isaac’s truck saying nothing to him. As he drives along I concentrate on the movement, which sways me as I lean against the passenger window. “What did he mean?” I turn to face him. “What did who mean?” I ask confused. “The guy at the door. He said he didn’t know why you put up with his shit. What did he mean, Via?” I feel my stomach tighten with nerves and my eyes dart from left to right. “Oh, just that Charlie is stupid and gets drunk a lot.” “Hmmm,” Isaac responds, but then he allows silence to descend again. My eyes close for what feels like a second, but when I reopen them, we’re parking in the driveway of his house. “Isaac, what are we doing here?” I turn toward him again and watch as his head drops backwards. He looks to the roof of his truck
and closes his eyes. “I don’t know,” he tells me. My breathing picks up alongside my heartbeat. “Come on,” he demands and pulls me out of the door after him, dragging me up the path and into his house. Once we’re in the hallway, he slams me against the wall. For a very slow moment, he just stares at me, his guard dropping from his eyes, and the Isaac I know and love is finally staring back. It awakens me, and without thinking, I move forward touching our lips. That’s all it takes—my flame—it ignites the fire, and before I know what’s happening, I’m being carried up the stairs and then bouncing as Isaac throws me onto his bed. He takes a breath, and I wait as he watches me. His jaw clenches, and for a second I feel like maybe this is where he decides to take me home. I can only just see his face in the darkness, but the minute he makes his decision, it’s clear in his eyes. With no words spoken, Isaac sheds his clothes, then mine. Taking his time, he climbs over me, his warm hands exploring for the very first time. Tender kisses, filled with love, follow where his fingers have trailed. Isaac gently and lovingly caresses me with soft strokes of his tongue, and feather touches across my skin. Building me up slowly, he eases me into something I’ve never wanted with anyone else. It’s like my body recognises his, as if we were created especially for one another. My heart hammers a nervous beat
inside my chest, and I almost forget to breathe. With a tenderness only he could possess, he guides us together, our eyes locked and our mouths touching. Isaac takes my virginity, takes my heart, and I know in that instant, I’ll be forever his. The next morning I wake alone. I’m sleepy, dazed, and confused. Pulling the covers back, I gasp when I look down and realise I wasn’t thinking last night. I don’t regret giving my virginity to Isaac, no matter what happens now. But I do regret the fact that in the daylight, with my clothes off, I opened up my biggest secret to him. I stare at my chest, stomach, ribs, and hips—the bruises and cuts are plain to see. Purple, yellow, green, and blue of varying degrees fade into my pale skin, small and large cuts show the age of my beatings. “Isaac!” I scream, jumping off the bed, grabbing for my shirt and running through the house. I was too late. Isaac beat Charlie to within an inch of his life. Then accepted the guilty plea. His admission earned him the maximum sentence of five years for grievous bodily harm, and was dishonourably discharged from the Army. He refused to see me. Six months later, I started drinking and skipping school. Three months after that, the dance scholarship I had been awarded was revoked. I lost it all. Everything I ever wanted when I was
eighteen fell to pieces… including me.
Liv PRESENT DAY I push my fingers through my hair and dig the nails into my scalp, the pain it inflicts allows me to be momentarily distracted from the shit fest that has become my life. “Fuck!” I grunt out, slamming my shoulder against the dirty brick wall and dropping my hands back down. I make a fist and punch out hitting the brickwork, immediately my skin splits and blood pools around the fresh cuts. I watch, unblinking, as the blood trickles across the word Pain which is tattooed on the lower half of the fingers on my right hand. The word sits just above my nails and mirrors
the word Alone, which is in the same place on my left hand, although that also incorporates my thumb. “Liv, what the fucking hell are you doing?” The shout comes from my friend Helena, who stands half in and half out of the back door to the tattoo studio where she works. The anger she emits makes me avert my eyes from her stare. Instead, I take in the rest of my friend. Her black hair is shaved up one side, the remaining hair slides in waves down her back. She has purple gloves on and is wearing ripped black jeans, a tight red tank with a black skull decorating it, and biker boots. Helena’s tattoos cover most of her body, but the ones I can see right now snake down both arms and up her neck—they match mine. We’re very similar, both about the same height, petite, with natural brown hair, although hers is now black and mine is platinum blonde. We have multiple tattoos, and we both dance at ShadowBox, a strip club in London. Helena stomps over and I can’t ignore her blistering ire as she rams her palm into my shoulder. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing punching the damn wall? Here, give me your hand,” she demands, grabbing my wrist and turning it over, examining my knuckles. “What happened?” she asks quietly, her tone softening, the anger now replaced with concern. I’m not sure which is worse. “Same old shit,” I reply, dodging the question.
“Looks like no tattoo for you today,” she hisses. I rip my arm from her grasp. “You’re giving me a fucking tattoo today, Hel, I mean it,” I snap then huff out a sigh and rub my eyes. “I don’t tattoo crazy people,” she answers crossing her arms. “Yes, you do. Every damn day.” “All right, touché, bitch.” Her frostiness ebbs and she tilts her head back to the door. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” I follow her into the back of the studio, which thankfully is empty today. I always come in this way. The front means passing the coffee shop on the opposite side of the road. I made the mistake one night of bedding Jimmy, the barista who works there. It wasn’t planned, and I blame alcohol for my lapse in judgement. However, since that unfortunate night, Jimmy’s interest in me hasn’t waned. I wouldn’t mind, I mean, he’s easy on the eyes with his dirty blond hair which is shaved at the sides, pretty copper coloured eyes, and tattoos scattered across his six-foot frame—his body isn’t bad either. While most of the girls bat their eyelashes at him and pop in for coffee at least three times a day, I’m not most girls. He’s hot, but with all that he is, there is one thing he isn’t—Isaac. I dismiss the fact Isaac spent over four years in prison and never once allowed contact. And, with alarming natural ease, I ignore the reality that
although he's been out of prison for five months, he still hasn't spoken to me. Because, no matter the time that’s passed, I can't pull myself from the hold Isaac has over my heart. I never could. He never asked for that position, and probably doesn’t even want it… but, without knowing, he has it. He has me. Helena sits me on a stool in the kitchen and pulls out a first-aid box. My mind drifts away as she cleans my cuts and bandages my hand. I remember chatting with Tobias a month after Isaac was released from prison. “He just needs time, Liv,” Tobias tells me, but his eyes don’t meet mine. I huff, leaning forward in my chair. I let my head drop between my knees and bite back the swell of pain that threatens to break me apart. I always assumed Isaac didn’t want me to visit while he was inside. That he didn’t want me to see what it was like in there. Also, knowing him, and what happened between us before he beat up Charlie, I imagined he’d want to talk to me privately. Apparently not. Since he’s been out he’s avoided me. He’s missed every family get together. Excuses after excuses have littered my brain as Uncle Saul, Aunt Soph, and Tobias have dutifully filtered them from him to me. The only person who hasn’t offered a string of half-truths on his behalf is
Lawson, and that’s only because he’s away at Uni. “How much time am I supposed to give him, Toby? It’s been over four years of him in there and a month of him out, and he still won’t speak to me. God!” I shoot up from my sitting position and kick my chair over. “He must hate me,” I shout as the anger courses through my body, and I start involuntarily shaking. “Hey,” Tobias says taking a step toward me and pulling my shoulders into his chest, holding me and my anger until I calm. The minute my body stops trembling, I push away from him. “Thanks Toby, but I’m always going to be in this state of limbo until he tells me where his head is at. He knows why.” I swallow and look back down, the tears pool now but I won’t let anyone see them. “Only he knows why,” I whisper to myself and I’m certain it’s so quiet, Tobias didn’t catch it. I blink and gather my composure, grinding my teeth, before I look back at my cousin. “Tell him I want to see him.” Biting my lip, I murmur, “Again.” He nods, but I can’t take anymore, so I walk away. That was four months ago and he still hasn’t made contact. So, after a month of crying I decided, no more. I wasn’t going to turn into a weepy shadow of my former self. I’ve been trying
to move on ever since. “There, all done,” Helena says, and I’m brought back to the present. “Thanks, Hel,” I tell her, sucking in my cheeks so I don’t get upset. I’ve managed not to cry, not to ask about him, and not to talk about Isaac at all since that last conversation with Tobias. The only problem is I haven’t moved on. I’ve tried, believe me. I didn’t save myself for Isaac when he was in prison. I would have if he’d spoken to me, told me he still wanted me. After almost six months of thinking he would come to his senses, I went a little wild. I started drinking and sleeping around. I couldn’t hold down my dancing scholarship, a job, or even friends. I lost them all. The only positive to come out of those years were my tattoos and my friendship with Helena. She was my tattooist for my first and still is with every new one, but somewhere along the line, she also became my best friend. “Well, that’s all done. Glad I have a free slot after you. Otherwise, you’d be waiting for your tat,” she tells me arching an eyebrow. “So go on, tell me what the outburst was for.” I shake my head no, but as she purses her lips I know she won’t let it go. “I had two phone calls on the way here,” I explain, getting up from the stool and busying myself by grabbing a Red Bull from her fridge. “And they were?” Helena prompts, her face
pinched with worry. “The first was a rejection for that group dance I went for,” I tell her, my shoulders slumping. Ever since getting booted out of the dance academy, Aunt Soph has been working with me. She knows what I want, but neither of us are confident I’m going to get it. The tats make me unpopular for a lot of roles. The sheer amount I have over my body means they can’t be covered. Also, the fact that I never graduated and didn’t get a recommendation is a big black mark against me. She tells me I’m amazing, better than she ever was, but that’s what she would say, she’s my family. Aunt Soph and I are really close, and I love her like I love my mum. A year ago, I made the jump to ShadowBox. I was working in a card shop which truly was as boring as it sounds. Worst of all though, because of where I was working and the little money I was earning, I had to remain at my parents’ house. Constant battles waged between my folks and me. They’re amazing, and I love them, but they’ve always found it hard to cut the apron strings. My need for freedom meant they held on tighter, and were suffocating me. An old friend suggested stripping, and ShadowBox was mentioned. I was wary, but I needed a new job. I’ve never been body conscious, and I could dance, so to me, it made sense. After meeting Allegro—the owner of the club—and going over what would be expected of
me—the pay, and hours—she offered me the job. I figured if I was going to start stripping, then having a female boss probably wasn’t a bad thing. After a few months, I got into the swing of taking my clothes off while dancing. The money’s great, my boss is fair, and I get on with most of the other girls. It gave me the freedom to express myself while earning enough to rent my own bedsit in London. Then Helena started struggling for money when her flatmate up and left one day with no warning. Although Helena isn’t a dancer, she can move, and she’s cute. I asked whether she’d thought about stripping, and a few weeks later she was working there too. After that, I moved in with her. It made sense and helped us both out. We’ve been living together ever since. “Okay, you knew the chances of that job were slim. The tats were a big no-no for them, you were aware of this going in. That wasn’t why you were trying to break your hand on my wall. Spill,” she commands, and I roll my eyes. “Toby called,” I offer, with a croak. She sits up a bit straighter, her eyes widen and I know it’s because she’s now worried. “Isaac’s coming back home,” I explain. Helena nods. She’s aware of the history between us, every dirty detail. “You knew he was only in Spain for a few months, working. Come on Liv, what gives?” she questions carefully, knowing it’s
causing me pain. I never cry, I always bite back my tears. There is this one area, just one, which elicits a plethora of overwrought emotions I struggle to control. “He’s not coming back alone,” I whisper as a single tear escapes my tight hold and rushes down my cheek. “Oh shit.” She startles at my words and almost spits hers back at me. “Who? Tell me what the fuck happened.” I shake my head, a snort of laughter passes my lips humourlessly. “Shelly. He met her out there. Apparently, she was working as a barmaid or something, and I guess he’s been…” I pause and make air quotes “… dating her ever since.” “Shit Liv, it must be serious if he’s bringing her home, right?” she asks tentatively. “I guess. I mean it’s not like I can compare it to anything. He had loads of girlfriends back in high school and college, but then he went to prison…” I rub the back of my neck. “Hey, that wasn’t your fault,” she snaps. “I know.” Helena raises her eyebrow at me and I hold my hands out in a ‘don’t shoot’ gesture. “Honestly, it’s taken a lot of time, but I know it wasn’t my fault.” There’s sadness in my words, a brokenness I let few people witness. “Since he’s been out, this is the first person he’s brought home,
that means it’s serious… I mean, he’s probably had one-nighters.” I bite my lip as the emotion tries to surface again. “I’m sure she’s hideous and bitchy and whiny,” Helena tells me without any real malice but as any good friend should. I giggle at her comment. “Nice try, Hel, but have you seen Isaac?” I grin. She mirrors me smiling, even though she’s only ever seen him in photos. “Dammit, you’re right. He’ll have his pick of women, and no way is he going to choose a whiny, bitchy moose.” I laugh, but it’s scratchy sounding as it travels up my tight through and leaves my mouth. My brain flashes through a picture book of mental images— ones of Isaac with other girls. Helena moves to me and wraps one arm around my neck pulling my head under her chin. She gives me a quick hug and ruffles my short hair before releasing me. This is progress for her. She doesn’t do physical emotion, not the sappy stuff anyway. “Come on, less talk about dickbrain—” “Dickbrain?” I cut her off with my question. She nods. “Uh-huh, dickbrain. If he can’t see how amazing you are, and then there’s the fact he won’t even speak to you… dickbrain,” she tells me shrugging and crossing her arms. I smile. “So, tattoo time, what are you having?” She
claps her hands together excitedly. You wouldn’t think she had tattooed me twenty-seven times before. I look away from her. I don’t want to see her disappointment as I tell her what I want. “Here,” I say pointing to my ribs on the left side next to my heart. “I want Owning Worthless in script with a bird in a cage next to it,” I tell her softly. “Are you fucking joking?” she explodes. “Don’t, Hel, okay? It’s what I want. Just fucking do it, or I’ll find another tattooist who will,” I reply, my voice tight. I don’t like arguing with her, and I will find someone else to do it if I need to, but I hate the idea of anyone but Helena tattooing my skin. She sighs and rubs her temples. “For fuck’s sake, why? Why would you want a tattoo permanently on your skin that says you’re owning being worthless? You’re not fucking worthless, you dipshit!” she argues. “Ahhh!” I shout. “I knew it wasn’t a good idea coming to you. I should have gone to someone else.” Helena gasps and her eyes widen as her hand rushes up to cover her mouth. “You would let someone else ink you?” she whispers. I roll my eyes at her melodramatic ways. However, I know she means what she says, and that if I did go somewhere else, it would really hurt
her. “Please,” I whisper solemnly. “I need this.” “Can you take a day? Come back tomorrow, and think about having something else. For me?” She grabs my hands in hers and stares at me. “I’m asking you this as my friend. I don’t want you to go somewhere else. I will tattoo this for you, but I’d really like you to take a day, think about it, see if there is something else you could be persuaded to do instead. Please?” she begs. I sigh and let my head drop back. “God! Okay. Tomorrow I want you to tattoo whatever the hell I want, though,” I demand pulling my hands from hers and crossing my arms over my chest. She nods. “Sure. I promise.”
I look at the time and rub my hands together. It’s just after nine p.m. and it’s cold. I’m waiting for Helena to get Holly as I stand outside Holly’s flat. I decided to stay here because Holly is always running late, and I know if I’m waiting downstairs, it will be an incentive for her to hurry, but damn, it’s freezing. I’m wearing the tightest jeans I own. They stop at my hip bones and along with a ripped crop top—which is exposing my stomach—I’m not dressed to keep out the cold. I try to pull my leather
jacket around me, but it doesn’t make any difference to my nipples which are pointing like bullets. I kick at a stone with my six-inch heeled, black ankle boots and groan. “Hey, sorry.” Holly puffs as both she and Helena rush out of the flats’ communal entrance. Helena has a tight red dress on with rips all down the side of it and her black DM boots. Holly is wearing a short maroon leather skirt, which matches her knee high boots, with a black and white striped top. Her hair is red today. Holly dyes her hair a different colour every week. The nose ring is new, though. “Hair looks good, Hols,” I tell her as we start walking. “Cheers Liv. Still got the platinum pixie thing going on with yours I see,” she says pointing to my short hair. “You should seriously consider extensions. I told you I’ll do them for nothing, just let the girls you work with know that you got yours from me,” she says with a smile and a wink. Ever since I cut my long hair short, she’s been encouraging me to get extensions done. Holly works at a salon in town, but she freelances hoping to have her own business one day. Honestly, I’ve been seriously thinking about having her give me my long hair back, as I miss it. “Okay Hols, let me call you tomorrow and we can sort out a time for you to come over to my place and do it,” I tell her as she beams at me.
We arrive at Jesters ten minutes later. It’s a club we frequent so the bouncers know us. They nod and smile allowing us immediate access inside. I hear people groan, but I ignore it as I slip through the doors and straight over to Maggie, the lady at the coat check. “Evening princess,” the older woman says with a lazy grin on her heavily made-up face. “Hey Maggie, just this tonight please,” I reply, shrugging off my leather jacket and handing it to her with a smile. She hands a piece of paper to me, which I promptly tuck in my bra. “Have fun!” she calls as we walk away. As soon as I hit the first club room and hear the music pumping, my body starts swaying. “Go,” Helena says pointing to the dance floor. I glance at her. “Go on… Hols and I will grab a drink at the bar, maybe a hot guy too.” Holly giggles at Helena’s words. I bite my lip and wonder whether I should abandon my friends after less than thirty seconds in the club. Then the music changes to Sigma, ‘Nobody to Love,’ and I can’t resist. I move onto the dance floor and close my eyes feeling the beat but also hearing the words. My body moves without instruction—it’s like the rhythm comes directly from the tune playing and connects to me. At that moment I’m anyone and everyone, I’m life and
love and freedom. The music, the dancing—it lets me be me, it reminds me who I am, and all the negative feelings dissipate. I only feel like this in the moment, but wish I could hold onto this free feeling I have when I’m dancing, for the rest of the time. The song has barely finished when there’s a tap on my shoulder. I open my eyes and see the stares of people watching me. It doesn’t surprise me as it often happens, only because I’m a dancer, and these people see what I’ve been trained to do. If there was another dancer in here and I spotted them, I would also stop to watch. I look behind me and see the tap came from Helena. “Hey, we’re going upstairs to find somewhere to sit. You coming?” she asks. “Yeah.” I nod my head. “But, I’ll only come up with you to see where you’re sitting, then I’m going into the other room.” “’Kay,” Helena replies, and I follow her off the floor. One of the reasons we always come to this club is because there are numerous rooms and each one plays a different type of music. You want rock, you got it. Dance, they have it. Hip hop, yep, you’ll find it here. I love all music, and dancing to whatever moves me in the moment, which is why I like this place. I follow them upstairs and they’re lucky to find
a table. Once I know they’re settled I leave, heading back downstairs. Moving from room to room, I lose myself for a couple of hours. After three songs in a row that I don’t really like, I decide to go back to the girls. I grab a bottle of water from the bar on the way through. As I walk toward the table, I can see they have company—a couple of guys sit with their backs to me. I hesitate, but I can see Helena is slightly turned away from the men, like she’s uncomfortable, so I push forward. Helena spots me as I reach the table, her eyes widen, and she shakes her head gingerly. My pulse picks up speed, and I worry about what could possibly be wrong. The moment I realise why she’s uncomfortable, my knees buckle, and I stumble backwards clutching my stomach like I’ve repeatedly been punched. My heart aches, and I wrap my hand around my throat gasping for air, trying to gain some composure. But it’s no use, my feet take me backwards, and I bump into someone—a man. He grasps my hips, and I hear him mutter something, but it doesn’t register. All I see is the face I’ve missed for years—the one who didn’t want to see me, the one I’ve tried to forget about, without success. “Via,” I hear him say my name, it’s all I hear as I try to ignore the way his eyes eat me up, just like they did that night. Seeing him is all I’ve wanted, but now that he’s here, I’m overwhelmed and
confused. “No,” I whisper as shock takes over and dictates my actions. I’m helpless to stop myself as I turn and run out of the club. I leave my jacket. I leave my friends. I leave Isaac.
ISAAC “Fuck!” I snap between clenched teeth. It was her. After all this time. Like a mirage, she was finally in front of me, and all I could do was stare until she ran away. Still, seeing her allows me to breathe again. Via frees the constraints I’ve placed upon myself throughout the years. I can feel the drumming of my heart which is ramming against my chest like it’s trying to break free. A whooshing noise pounds in my ears and blood races around my body as adrenaline surges. There have been times over the last few years that
I’ve been in trouble, when I have needed to fight, and on occasion, it has felt like my body was in a constant state of an adrenaline rush, but never like this. There’s something that Olivia McKenna has always been able to do to me, something no one else ever has. She makes me feel alive. No matter what my life has brought, what shit I’ve faced, she’s the one person who can awaken me, give me hope, and help me to see things in a different light. I’m a better version of myself when I’m around her. And that’s exactly why I’ve stayed away for so long. “You expected a different outcome?” The words are snarled at me by the tiny raven-haired badass across the table. I want to smile, she’s cute riled up as fuck, but I don’t because this isn’t the least bit funny. She’s protecting her friend, my friend… my Via. She’s protecting her which should have been my job. “No,” I answer, my usual stoic response giving nothing away, just as I’ve been trained not to. “Let me ask you something, Isaac,” she spits my name out like it tastes bad in her pouty mouth. I stare at her coolly, as she rolls her eyes. “Why did you come here?” I don’t answer her. I can’t answer her because the truth is I don’t know why I came here. No, that’s a lie. I came here because I wanted to see Via, but the moment I saw her I knew nothing had
changed. I can’t be what she wants, I’m no good for her, and I need to man the fuck up and stay out of her life. Like I’ve done for the past few years. Without saying a word, I turn and walk away ignoring the cussing from the badass, and instead, internally curse myself for being a weak-willed pussy and coming back here.
“Fuck me,” I groan as the morning light burns my eyes. “Hmmm, again baby?” The raspy voice reminds me that I brought a woman home last night. I close my eyes knowing that unfortunately she won’t disappear. But as her hand finds my morning wood and starts working me up and down, I keep my eyelids locked tight and let myself enjoy the moment. I don’t remember her name, it doesn’t matter though, when I close my eyes all I ever see is Via. I jerk out of my trance when her sloppy mouth sucks me in—now it’s time for me to take over. If she gets me off, then she’ll expect me to do the same and considering ten minutes ago—when I realised she was still here—I was going to call her a cab and kick her arse out, the last thing I want to do is bury my face in her pussy. No. I pull away. Before she has a chance to
speak, I flip her over, hastily pulling on a condom and smashing into her from behind. It’s my favoured position, that way I don’t see their faces. Grunting, I give the woman whose hole I’m using little thought as I slam back and forth. I think I might even call out Via at one point. The good thing about my nickname for Olivia is that few people realise it’s a name, so when I have slipped up and used it, I can pass it off as something else. I’m getting close to blowing my load, and I need this bitch to get off and quick. Reaching around to her tits, I pinch her nipple, and she screams. That’s when I feel it—sweet bliss as her pussy clamps around me throbbing and bringing me to release. I stay still for a moment letting my racing heart calm. When I realise she isn’t moving I drag myself up, striding into the bathroom and pulling off the rubber. I catch my reflection in the mirror and stare for a moment. My eyes are empty these days. I turn on the taps and splash my face, then grab a flannel letting warm water run over it. Sighing, I pull on the spare joggers I keep on the towel rack and walk back out. She’s still sprawled on the bed facing me now, and I couldn’t place her if my life depended on it. I pass her the flannel, hoping it will make me seem like less of a dick. “Thanks, baby,” she purrs. “No problem. Listen, I need to shoot, you want me to call you a cab?” I ask.
I see the question in her eyes and pray I’m not going to have a hissy fit coming my way. I can usually sense those women and avoid them at all costs, but I barely remember last night or how I ended up with this one, so I’ve no idea what I’m dealing with. Still, I could always knock on Shelly’s door for some help if I need it. “Naa, that’s okay, I’m gonna bounce.” She smiles. I feel sweet relief and pull my laptop out pretending to busy myself while she gets dressed. “Well, I had fun.” She shrugs. “Maybe we could do this again?” I glance up knowing this could go one of two ways. “No.” She smirks. “Bye, baby.” Then leaves, and I clench my jaw. I was lucky, this time she was like me, obviously just in it for a quick fuck and no expectations—those women are rare, and I’m usually careful. A whole thirty seconds in Via’s presence, and I’m fucked all over again.
LIV “Come on, it’s been two fucking days.” “Ugh.” I shove my head under the pillow and try to block out Helena’s voice. “How much alcohol have you consumed since Saturday night?” she asks with a tut. “Leave me alone,” I complain, whining. “Like fuck,” she responds. Helena swears a lot, but when she gets angry, her swear word to normal word ratio gets skewed heavily on the former side of the scale. “Really? You’re going to kick my arse out of bed?” “Yes. Stop sulking. The dickbrain isn’t worth it.
Anyway, we have work tonight.” I peek out from under my pillow at the wrong time. I’m staring straight at the window and only get a glimpse of Helena’s back before she rips open my curtains, and the light terrorises me. I’m momentarily blinded. “God, it smells like a skunk had a bar fight in here,” she complains, opening all my windows. I drag my duvet tighter around my shoulders and snuggle back down under my pillow, barely lasting ten seconds before she rips my cocoon away from my body. I lay still, knowing I can’t fight her anymore. She was good and gave me two days, two longer than she wanted to give me, I’m sure. “Fine,” I grumble throwing my arm across my face. “Finally, I’m getting through to you. I’ll wait in the living room, there has to be something compelling on TV. You go shower. Now,” she demands. I open one eye from under my arm and watch as she gathers up my duvet. “What are you doing?” I croak. She stops and frowns at me. “You think I’m leaving you alone with this baby? Umm, no. Now hurry up!” She stalks out of my room dragging my poor duvet with her. The minute she’s gone, I sit up and search for my phone. I let out a relieved breath when I find it
down the side of my mattress. Squeezing my eyes together, I’m not sure I want to look at it. I know I sent a text to Isaac while I was sharing my bed with JD yesterday. Dropping my head slightly, I peer down at the floor and yeah, there’s an empty bottle, I drank it all. “Sorry JD, it was good while it lasted… I think,” I whisper to the clear glass and rub the back of my head. I can’t put it off anymore. I need to see what I sent and if he responded. “I can’t hear the shower in there!” Helena shouts through the flat, making me chuckle. “I’m getting there, now shut up,” I reply. I’m surprised I don’t have a raging hangover. A nearly full bottle of whiskey has made my memory blurry, but I don’t feel unwell, just tired. Grinding my teeth I grab my mobile, but when I check it the battery’s dead, and I can’t decide whether I’m relieved or upset. Sighing, I plug it in to charge and go into my en-suite bathroom. It sounds fancy, but it’s not. Still, it has all I need, and while I wait for the shower to warm, I turn on my iPod dock and press shuffle. I step under the stream of water as Janet Jackson comes over the speakers with ‘Again’—it’s like she’s detailing my life story. Closing my eyes, I duck under the water and sing quietly along to the words. I inherited my mother’s talent, but few people know that. Mum shines when it comes to singing. I’m not her, and I
don’t want to be. I think when I was younger I wanted to be separate from my parents as much as possible because of the tight rein they tried to keep on me, so I never sang for them. Thankfully, they never picked up on my voice. My focus was always dancing anyway and I spent hours in Aunt Soph’s studio perfecting my routines. Nobody questioned whether I was good at anything else, seemingly one talent is enough in this family. I wonder what skills Isaac has these days, because I know he’s not a single source of talent. On that thought, the music changes to Janet’s ‘Anytime, Anyplace,’ and I groan. I can’t help thinking about Isaac, he’s been in my thoughts for years, but his unexpected arrival a few days ago has once again put him front and centre. Although I ran away shocked, it doesn’t deter from the fact that my hungry eyes took in every delicious bit of him. I think of him as my hand slips down my stomach. Closing my eyes, I remember how his shoulders were broader, and how the muscles he couldn’t hide if he wanted to, were obvious under his jumper. His chocolate hair, which was short when he came back from the Army, is longer now. And the clean-shaven look is gone replaced by a sexy as hell short beard. His dark blue eyes, almost like the blue-black of the ocean, are the same, though. No matter the shields I try to hold up, those eyes penetrate all my defences, they always have.
My head drops back against the tiled wall as I play with my clit and imagine his now bearded face between my legs as I ride him. We never experienced that on the one night we had. I was a virgin, and he knew it. He was gentle, careful, and everything about that night was loving. I think that’s why when he left, then ignored me for so long, I went wild. It was always meaningless sex— one night, sometimes two, but just sex. Every dirty thing you could imagine I did, with nameless, faceless men, and I never thought of Isaac once. I swear. “All done,” I say sulkily, walking in the living room still drying my hair with a towel. “Are you watching Jeremy Kyle?” I splutter as I notice the TV show and take in Helena gawking at the screen. Without moving her eyes from the TV, she mumbles, “Uh huh, this guy is sleeping with his girlfriend’s mother, you couldn’t write this shit.” “Hmmm, I think you probably could,” I offer back. “Seriously, there was a woman on there who said her boyfriend killed her hamster. This show is beyond fucked up… and I love it!” “Seriously?” I deadpan. Helena nods her head vigorously. “Yep, it sure as hell makes me feel better about my life.” I stare at the screen and wonder what my Jeremy Kyle tagline would be.
‘Mum, Dad, I’m in love with my cousin. Oh, and he took my virginity.’ Or maybe, ‘Why did you take my virginity then ignore me for years?’ Or ding ding ding… we have a winner! ‘I took her virginity. Now she won’t leave me alone. Stalker Exes.’ “What’s that weird look on your face?” Helena asks, her body now twisted around on the sofa facing me. “What weird look?” “I don’t know.” She rubs her chin in thought. “Kind of a mixture between Father Christmas has shat in my fireplace, and my dog just pissed on my favourite shoes kind of look.” I shrug but burst into laughter, it’s the balm I need to feel marginally better. “You ready to go?” Helena asks after I finish laughing. “Let me grab my phone,” I say rushing back to my bedroom. I pull it from the charger and go into my messages. I can see he’s replied, but I purposely look to the side as I scroll up to the top using only my peripheral vision. I need to remember what I sent before I see his reply. Me: Why did you show up yesterday after all this time? Was it to fuck with me?
Okay, so my first message is pretty put together. I vaguely remember typing this out. I must have only had a couple of glasses of JD at that point. Isaac: I don’t know why I came back. Me: That’s not a fucking answer. Isaac: It’s all I got. Me: Fuck you, Isaac. Isaac: Nice mouth. I notice there is a gap of about an hour between that text and his next one. Isaac: I’m sorry. Me: Sorr forr wat??? Hmmm, seems JD and me had become close friends in that lost hour. Isaac: Are you drunk? Me: Nont your bissnessss Isaac: Are you out somewhere? Where are you? Are you with friends? Me: Shhhh 2 much talking Isaac: Olivia! Me: Isssaaack hehehehe Okay, so I’m obviously finding myself funny at
this point. Isaac: We need to talk. Call me. The last text was sent this morning. Shit. I stand staring at the phone then before I can change my mind, I tap out a text. Me: I can’t today. I’m not sure I can at all. I don’t wait for his response. I turn my phone off and throw it into my bag, work will keep me busy tonight and hell, the distraction will be more than welcome.
ISAAC “I don’t care what you have to do, just get this shit done,” I command. “They ran from the safe house. What do you want me to do, Kane?” Darwin asks. “Find them,” I order then cut the call. Darwin is my number two. We don’t use first names, it’s safer that way. My name was assigned when I joined. It’s my middle name, now it’s my life. Kane. Black Ops. Kane gets his hands dirty, doing things others… Isaac would never dare. I used to take on Kane as a persona to separate the bad from the good. Now I
think I lose a little Isaac every day and become a little more Kane. Black Ops was something I got into easier than you’d imagine. Outside of my work, there are only five people who know I’m Black Ops, and four of those people think I got into it because I was kicked out of the Army when I went to prison. Only my Uncle Dane knows the truth—that I was already planning on moving into the field before all that happened. I’d spoken to Dane’s contacts and was going to make my transition from light to dark. That was why I was home for Via’s eighteenth birthday, because it had been organised for my meet to happen with them the day after. I was fucking ecstatic, seeing her again, but when that prick, Charlie, joined us, I had to bite back my frustration. I knew she wouldn’t stay single, she’s fucking beautiful, inside and out. But it didn’t stop the frustration at seeing her with him, it just spurred me on. I couldn’t help myself. I loved her then, I always had, so I took her that night. I’d like to say I would have stopped if I had known beforehand she was a virgin, but the truth is… I’m a selfish bastard. When I realised I was her first, all I felt was fucking elated. I know that probably makes me a prick, but I don’t feel bad. It’s the one thing I’ve done right in my life. I just wish I could claim her as mine. But I can’t, my life is my work, and it dictates
the choices I make. I can’t have her no matter how much I want her. The decision is out of my hands. I’ve kept my life structured. Only once did I waiver and second guess my decisions. I considered missing the meeting and not moving into Black Ops when I slipped inside Via, I knew with her was where I truly belonged. I was ready to change the course of my life. Forever. Only for her. That morning I felt calm, peaceful. I wanted to kiss every inch of her and intended to wake her with my tongue until I saw her skin covered in fucking cuts and bruises. Primal rage engulfed me, splintering any hold I had on myself. I went rogue that day, not from what the Army had taught me, but from my own rules. I lost all control, I wanted to kill him. I tried. Fuck, I nearly succeeded. Even now, after all these years, I feel no remorse. All I feel is gutted that he’s still walking. It’s like an open wound knowing I was in prison, and the only thing I could give Via was safety, but by doing that, I had to take away the one thing she wanted—me. As I said, I’m a selfish bastard, in the end I chose to keep her safe and that was the only thing that got me through. My office door flies open and slams against the wall. “What the fuck happened?” shouts a red faced Shelly. “Nicola ran, Craig followed,” I answer, leaning back in my chair.
“Darwin?” she questions, dumping herself on the edge of my desk. “He’s looking for them right now.” “Fuck!” she shouts again. “Calm down, he’ll find them.” “How can you sit there so calmly? Like this isn’t possibly three months of work down the fucking shitter?” she growls and stands up, prowling across the room and back again. “Because I know where they are,” I tell her casually. “Excuse me?” she whispers turning to face me. “We have a leak. I needed to smoke them out. You passed by the way,” I tell her smirking. “Fuck you, Isaac, fuck you.” She stalks back out the room slamming the door behind her. Shelly’s the only one who calls me by my real name. I sigh and find the remote to my stereo. Pressing a button, I lay back and close my eyes, as the smooth voice of John Mayer singing ‘Gravity’ caresses my ears. My mum once showed me a video of Via dancing to this song. I can’t get the images out of my mind. We used to dance together. Mum taught all her boys, but Olivia was always my partner. Now she fucking hates me, but fuck, I still love her. I sigh as the song comes to an end and pick up my phone. It connects almost immediately. “Bring me the car,” I snap and cut the call. I don’t have
time for pleasantries, in this job I’ve found the fewer friends you have, the better. Friends die, and the pain is real, but scars heal. The heart never fucking does.
I look over to Shelly, then to Marcus. “You don’t think it was me,” he sneers. It’s an act, all of it. I can see the beads of sweat just under his hairline. His pupils are dilated either because he’s lying or maybe he’s high. I know he’s been visiting Brandon lately, and I’m fairly sure it’s been for more than just a stash of weed. His eyes dart between Shelly and me. Occasionally, his gaze travels to Victor who stands near the door waiting to drive us back. I don’t answer his question. I know it was him. I have the evidence to back it up. This job is dangerous, we have enough enemies, so traitors in my own unit won’t be tolerated. My hand whips inside my jacket, and I pull my knife out of its sheath, throwing it across the room. Marcus doesn’t see it coming until it’s too late. By the time it pierces his windpipe, I’ve thrown another of my knives and it’s settled in his heart. His eyes widen as he drops to the floor and gurgles his last breath. “Damn you’re cold,” Shelly snorts before
turning and walking out. “Call Clint for clean up,” I order Victor as I follow Shelly out the door. My job might be brutal sometimes, but I’m good at it. It’s what I know. And if Via ever found out, she’d never look at me with that love in her eyes again. I’m doing right by her. I’m giving her the safety she needs—away from me.
LIV “He turned up, just like that? Out of the blue?” Toby questions me. My index fingers rub circles on my temples as I close my eyes. “That’s what I said, Tobias,” I mutter his full name and squeeze my eyelids together a little harder. “Have you met her?” I don’t want to ask, but I need to know. “Yeah,” he whispers. I nod and refocus on him. His face says it all— he likes her—but he has my back. He’s worried about me. “It’s okay. You can like her.” I force out a chuckle. We both know it’s fake, but neither of us
says anything more. “You wanna dance?” he asks, diverting my attention. I grin and nod my head. “Yeah, okay, what track?” “Clean Bandit, ‘Rockabye,’” he answers and strides over to the stereo. I stand and move in front of the mirrors, stretching my arms and bending at the waist, allowing my spine to elongate. I feel his hand on my back. “You ready?” he asks. Pulling myself back up and turning to face him, I let my head drop back a little. Tobias is as tall as Isaac, and he looks eerily similar. There is only a year between them, with Isaac that little bit older. I often find myself doing a double take when I glance at Toby. “Yeah.” I smile, and he pulls me against him, wrapping the bunched muscles in his arms around my head until my nose is smushed against his chest. “It will be all right,” he informs me. Then, without warning, he lets me go, presses a button on the remote I didn’t see in his hand, and slides it across the floor as the first few notes of the song start. Toby and I have danced together for years, much like I used to with Isaac. However, with Toby, it’s all about the dancing, but with Isaac, the chemistry often led our movements. We fuse contemporary and street dance
together. The hours fall away as song after song plays, and we move until we’re both too sweaty and tired to continue. Propping ourselves against the wall, we sit and breathe heavily as our chests try to keep up with our panting. We’re both exhausted, but smiling. “I got a call back to be a dancer on the XFactor,” Toby tells me. I whip my head around and see he’s wincing. He’s worried about hurting my feelings. “That’s… that’s amazing,” I murmur, placing my hand on his shoulder, letting him know it’s okay. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I was just…” “I get it. Honestly, I do. You never have to worry about me being upset, you deserve it, you’re an amazing dancer,” I comfort. “So are you,” he whispers. I smile wistfully and lean forward kissing his cheek. “Love you, Tobias.” “Love you too, Olivia.” We grin at each other, but there’s a tinge of sadness in both of us. “I love him, Liv, and I know you do too, but I don’t know if he’ll ever truly come back to us. He’s been gone for so long… and I don’t mean physically.” Shaking my head, I blow the few strands of sticky hair stuck to my forehead. “It’s okay, time to move on,” I lie.
“Here.” “What’s that?” I poke at the weird looking fabric creation in Helena’s hands. “It’s a voodoo doll. The way I see it, this shit is long overdue. Here.” She pushes the creepy as fuck thing toward me. I pick it up by its hair? At least I think it’s supposed to be hair. “It has no eyes,” I whisper. Helena shrugs. “I asked Harry to make me one the other day.” “Harry!” I shout jumping out of my chair. “Please tell me you know another Harry, and it’s not our creepy pervert of a neighbour you’re referring to, Hel. Tell me!” I snap. She looks up at the ceiling innocently and bites down on her bottom lip. “Fuck me up the arse with a badger. What have you done? He’ll never leave us alone now,” I groan sitting back down. “At least now you can name it Isaac and stab it with pins. I suggest extra-large pins up his arse crack.” “It has an arse crack?” I question both stunned and queasy at the thought. “Yep, it also has a peen,” she confirms with a
wink. “Fucking hell, what has my life become?” I mumble to myself. “Hey, I was trying to do something nice,” Helena grumbles folding her arms and turning her head away from me. “I’m going to work,” I say throwing the scary, doll-monster on the kitchen table and leaving it with Helena.
“Hey Allegro,” I holler across the empty club as Dennis, one of the bouncers, lets me in. “Hey girl, you good to go tonight?” “Always,” I shout back before turning the corner and making my way into the changing rooms. Rolling my shoulders back, I put my iPod on and Coldplay’s ‘Hymn for the Weekend’ starts playing. I close my eyes and enjoy the quiet, unable to stop myself from singing along as I stand and dance around the empty changing room. As the song dies away and Adele’s ‘Send my Love (To Your New Lover)’ kicks in. I sigh and turn. “Wow, you’re wasted here,” Allegro tells me offering a slow clap. “Thank you, but no one else wants me, honey.
Too many of these.” I point to the tats on my arm. “Well, then, they’re damn fools. I didn’t know you could sing,” she muses rubbing her chin. “Do not even think about it, this is not Moulin Rouge, and I am not getting on stage to lay on a piano and sing.” She laughs. “Yeah, I’m not sure our customers would appreciate that anyway, they’re not the classiest bunch.” I snort. “Don’t tell them that.” “Like they don’t already know what they are,” she scoffs. “True. So what do you want me to do tonight?” I ask. “Hmmm, I have a new outfit for you.” “You do?” I ask confused. We normally have to pick up our own clothes. “Yeah, I was out the other day and saw something I thought would be perfect for you. It’s not anything like normal,” she says and reaches into the bag I didn’t notice she was carrying. “I was thinking about your tattoos, and I saw this set. It would add an amazing contrast between this and the tats, but, as always, you can wear whatever you want,” she confirms pulling out the prettiest lace underwear set I think I’ve ever seen. It must have cost a fortune. “Fuck,” I hiss. “Here,” she says shoving the bag and underwear
toward me before marching out. God, I love my boss. “Wow,” I whisper to myself touching the soft lace. My thoughts jump to Isaac and I wonder whether or not he’d like me in this. “Stop it,” I order myself before pushing the underwear back into the bag.
ISAAC “You been walking around with a blindfold on or what?” I blink a couple of times and push my teeth against each other before I speak. “Why do you say that, Uncle D?” “I can’t believe I have to lay this shit out for you. Like father, like son.” Uncle Dane lets his head drop back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I snap. Family or not, I’m getting pissed, missing whatever point he has yet to make. There are other things playing on my mind right now. The last thing I
needed today was to be summoned by him for a chat in the damn park. His head whips back up until he’s staring me straight in the eyes. That’s when he shows me some of his former self. That’s when I see how people feared him, even though to us he’s never been anything but loveable. Even at his age, right then is when he schools me on how to be a man and step up. “Your dad had some fucked-up notions about your mum,” he says, and my shoulders tense. “Not like that. Never fucking like that,” he growls at me. I relax momentarily but tense again waiting for him to tell me the rest. “He didn’t think he deserved her. Not going to get into that. It’s their business. There are some things you don’t need to know. What I will say is he loves your mum. There was never anyone else for him, but I had to make him understand that she felt the same way about him too. Now it seems I gotta pull your head outta your arse as well.” “Touching Uncle D, but I don’t get why my head needs to be pulled outta my arse,” I reply. “She’s working at ShadowBox,” he snarls. My body goes from rigid to stone. I can hear the blood rushing through my ears as my fists curl in on themselves. “Took everything in me not to drag her arse outta there myself, but she’s yours. She’s always been yours. I didn’t see her dance. Thank
fucking Christ. If I did, nothing would have stopped me tearing up the stage, putting her in my car, and dragging her to my sister. I am going to talk to Pea and Con, they need to step in… if you won’t.” “I’ll sort her out.” The words come out in a low bark. I try to unlock my body, but everything in me is fighting against the information he’s just imparted. Via’s working at a strip club? No. Fuck that. Via is stripping at a fucking strip club. “I can see you’re pissed, nephew. Rein it in. You need to deal with Liv in the right way. You bulldoze this, and you’ll get her out of there, but that will be all you manage. She’ll shut you out. She’s like her mum.” His tone’s softer now, back to being Uncle Dane and not Black Ops Dane. “Why would I care? My goal is just to get her out of that shit hole and make sure she’s not showing her fucking body to every low life in London.” “Then I haven’t pulled your head out of your arse yet,” he grinds out. “You know the situation I’m in, you know what my life is. You know,” I emphasise. “You’re right, I do know. What I know is that life’s short, don’t waste a fucking second, Isaac. Trust me on that.” I say nothing, just stare ahead while I wait for him to give me the rest. “Isaac, you’ve known Liv her entire life. You know that you hold the world in
your hands as far as she’s concerned. She can’t see past you.” Gently, he places his hand on my shoulder. “You have to know that.” I nod and avert my eyes from his. “She’s my cousin. She’s family.” “And if you don’t wake up, that’s all she’ll ever be. One day you’ll open your eyes, and realise… she’s someone else’s.” He taps my shoulder and walks away, calling back as he goes, “Two days Isaac, then I go speak to Pea and Con about Liv. Let me know you’ve sorted it, or haven’t… and if not, I’ll sort it.” My big body slumps onto the bench, and I heave out a sigh. Tonight I’m going to ShadowBox. Tonight is the last time Olivia McKenna takes her clothes off for anyone. The words ‘but me’ drift through my head. I shake off the notion. “Fuck, I need to get a lid on this,” I murmur to myself. My mobile rings and I pull it from my front pocket. “Shelly,” I grunt. “There’s movement on the shipment.” “Handle it. I’m busy.” “What the fuck? This is what we’ve been waiting for.” “Shit,” I growl pinching the bridge of my nose. “Fine. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” I cut the call before she can say another word. One way or another, I’m getting to ShadowBox tonight and pulling Via’s arse out of there.
LIV I stare at myself in the long mirror. My eyes flit up and down and up again. The matching bra and French knickers are gorgeous, not designed for pole dancing, but still so comfy and stretchy. I knew the moment Allegro showed them to me they were what I needed. A break from the PVC outfits the other women wear. I wanted class—well, as classy as possible when you’re hanging upside down on a pole revealing your tits to a room full of strangers. Even so, the maroon colour against my tan skin looks gorgeous, and the fact that the set is lace gives it that extra something. It’s the shoes that pull my attention, though—black, high, peep-toe. The
straps attached to them are what made me buy them. I’ve always loved straps that wind up your legs, over your calf. These straps criss-cross and then criss-cross some more, all the way to my thighs. The tattoos that cover most of my body help the overall look. This new outfit will be a hit, I have no doubt. People say that confidence is what you need to do this job. Liars. It’s not confidence that’s needed. It’s being in a place where you don’t give a shit anymore. I’ve reached that place. But it’s not rock bottom, it’s not even down low. The stripping is something I never imagined I would do, but I love the escape my job gives me and the freedom. The facts are solid, even if I were working on something like a west-end show, I would be dancing someone else’s moves. Not mine, never mine. On this stage, the only requirement put on me is to be sexy. The moves here I choose, all of them. I always wanted theatre, but that ship has long since sailed. Now, after a year of working here, I’ve realised that as long as I don’t care, then I can be whoever I want, play a role, pick my poison. Or, I can just be Liv. It’s my choice. When the fear subsided, it dawned on me that there was no one to worry about, nobody who was going to be pissed. Well, nobody that I felt had a say in my life. I realised I could do this and see it as a job using my self-confidence to get me through, or I could see
this as my stage, my chance to do what I wanted. That thought was as freeing then as it still is now. With a new outfit and new song, I walk onto the dark stage. Taking my place, I stand with my legs apart, hands gripped to the cool steel bar, and I wait for the first few beats of the music. My eyes close the minute Zayn Malik’s ‘Pillowtalk’ starts, then the lights come up, and my eyes shoot open. I pull myself up wrapping my legs around the pole feeling the cold, hard metal under my fingers. I climb to the top before the chorus kicks in. At that point, I let my head and arms fall back and slide all the way back down. Then I make some basic moves on the pole like the chopper and kiss, stuff that gets the crowd going. I know the chorus is coming again, this isn’t a long song, so I need to take my bra off soon. Pulling myself from the pole, I take a slow extended cartwheel until I end up sitting on the floor doing the splits. I reach my hands up, then twist them behind my back to unhook my bra. I don’t see the men or women. I don’t see the lights, the bar, or bouncers. When I strip it’s all about the dancing. Nothing else exists. My fingers touch my back, but I never get the chance to pop the clip before I’m lifted from the stage. The music continues, but it’s not loud enough to drown out the boos and hisses of the people around me. The shouting starts, and it jolts me into
the here and now. I realise I’m being kidnapped. My hands come up, gripping onto the man’s shoulders. I’m about to claw at his eyes when I register—it’s Isaac. He’s striding across the club, with me in his arms, heading backstage. My jaw drops and confusion takes residence in my brain. I notice Leo, the floor manager, marching toward us. He’s yelling, but against the music and people shouting, I can’t hear what he’s saying. Although, the russet colour of his cheeks and the anger in his eyes tells me he doesn’t like the fact that I’ve been manhandled from the stage. I hear him shout something about how he’s going to kill Isaac if he doesn’t put me down. The minute he gets close enough, he raises his hand ready to lash out. Isaac slams his elbow into Leo’s face, without faltering in his step. I watch as Leo drops to the floor while we carry on moving. Once we make it through the backstage door, Isaac drops me down but grabs my hand, glaring at me. He looks like he’s ready to spit fire, he speaks through gritted teeth when he asks, “dressing room?” I don’t reply verbally, I just point in the direction he needs to go. We make it behind the door, and he bolts it from the inside. “What the fuck, Via?” he roars. I blink, staring into his face as I watch it contort with anger. “What?” I ask, shock and confusion coursing through me.
“What the actual fuck?” he asks again, the muscle in his cheek jumping as the rage brews inside him. He points to my outfit. “You’re taking your fucking clothes off now?” I feel a bubble of anger start to ferment low in my stomach. “What’s it got to do with you?” I snap, standing up and throwing my hands on my hips. “You’re… you’re—” “I’m what? Last time we were anything to each other was years ago, you’ve made it plain that I’m nobody,” I tell him as I watch him pace back and forth across the small dressing room. “You have never been, and never fucking will be, nobody,” he growls, his eyes cutting back to me. He looks up and down my body, anger is at the surface, but I can see a hunger behind his eyes too. “Your note had four lines, Isaac, and that’s what it told me. Anyway, my job has nothing to do with you, it has fuck all to do with anyone. I’m doing me, you do you.” I throw his words back at him, and his eyes flash with what looks like hurt, before he blinks and it’s back to anger. “You can’t fucking strip in front of those guys…” he pauses and runs a hand through his hair “… they all want a piece of you.” “Well, maybe I want to give them a piece of me!” I scream, throwing my arms in the air. He stops pacing, turns, then stalks to me. His big body
would be enough to force me backwards, but it’s the aura surrounding him that makes me step back and back again, it doesn’t stop him closing in. I back all the way up until my calves hit the sofa, but Isaac still doesn’t stop. The moment his body is lined up with mine, touching all the way from top to bottom, I fall back onto the couch. Even that doesn’t halt him as he puts an arm either side of me and leans down. His head moves until his lips rest against mine, both our mouths open, breathing heavily into each other. Our chests rise and fall simultaneously in quick succession. His eyes pierce mine, neither of us blinking. “Don’t give them a piece of you.” His voice is soft, so much so I’m almost convinced I’ve imagined the words. “What?” I whisper, but I know he hears me when his eyes flare. Before he gets a chance to answer there’s a small commotion and the bathroom door opens into our space. Malena walks quickly toward the outer door muttering apologies. Through all that, our eyes don’t break the contact of our intense stare. When she leaves and the door clicks shut, it’s like it kick-starts his brain again, and his eyes close, breaking our moment. He keeps his eyes closed, taking a long breath in before exhaling, then he pulls himself back, away from me, and I feel the distance like a bitter wind. “Get dressed, you can’t do this shit. You’re
better than this, showing your body off to drunken dicks. This isn’t dancing, no matter what you think. If you don’t get your shit together, I’m calling your mum.” His words are like a knife to my heart. After having that moment, I thought maybe we’d turned a corner. I should have realised that wasn’t what was happening. I need to learn. It’s time to cut the strings tying me to him. The strings I’ve been the only one holding onto. “Go back to, Shelly.” The words come out in a raw whisper, and I know he hears my pain as he flinches. “Go,” I repeat. His jaw clenches, and I see the muscles in his cheeks tick. Then, just like that, he spins around and strides out. Poof. He’s gone again.
ISAAC ‘Smack, thump… smack, thump… smack, thump. …’ I watch as the punching bag swings away and hit it again on its return. ‘Smack, thump...’ “What’s bitten your arse?” Shelly asks standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame. I continue to hit the bag but keep my eyes on her. She’s lean, around five-foot-nine with shoulderlength auburn hair. She has a few freckles dotted across her nose and cheeks, her eyes are light brown, and she has a little gap in her front teeth. She’s pretty, there’s no denying it, but what works in her favour is the innocent thing she has going on. Nobody ever thinks she’s Black Ops and could kill
someone in a matter of seconds—that little nugget of information has worked in her favour, and mine, on more than one occasion. There’s never been anything between us, there never will be, but I have to convince everyone differently tonight as we attend Uncle Con and Aunt Pea’s anniversary party. Shelly is coming with me as my new girlfriend. I wanted to go alone, but Dad pointed out the farce that is our relationship has been laid out for everyone, so they will be expecting her to come. Only four people in my family know what I really do—Mum, Dad, Uncle Dane, and Tobias. The only other person who knows outside of my organisation is a friend of mine who got out of this life a year ago. “Do we have to go to this thing tonight?” Shelly asks when she realises I’m not going to answer her first question. “‘Fraid so,” I throw back, grabbing the bag and halting its swing. I walk over to the bench and pick up my towel wiping my face down. “Shit, I hate this part,” she grumbles, picking at her nails and not seeming too bothered at all. “You and me both,” I snap. “Okay touchy, is it your time of the month?” she asks with a smirk. “Just go get changed into something more feminine,” I order looking at her jogging bottoms and shapeless t-shirt, which is her usual attire.
“Fine,” she groans and stalks out. I lean back against the gym wall. I had the house renovated and a brick building installed at the bottom of the garden so I could have a gym. The intention was to only come back for a couple of weeks, but that timeline grew, and one job turned into two. It seems the scum of the world like to operate in London these days. Lucky me. Every moment I spend here I’m in pain though, needing her, wanting my Via back. Seems like the Via who now exists isn’t the same girl I once knew. The short-haired pixie covered in tats, the one that has confusion mixed with pain etched all over her beautiful face every time I see her now, is a whole new person. She’s grown from the girl I knew to a sexy-as-fuck woman. I always held myself back from her, no matter how I felt. I never believed our family would accept it, accept us. By the time I acknowledged that I didn’t give a fuck what they thought, I was only given one night —a night that made me realise she was my future, a night that changed my life. That’s why I need to introduce her to Shelly, and soon, so she knows I’m unavailable, but more than that, so I remember I’m unavailable. I’ve always kept Via away from me, she deserves more than what I can offer. I always hoped she would move on, for her own sake, even though she’d be taking my heart with her. No matter how much I think
about her, I can’t allow the selfishness to win. I don’t want to drag her into my world. Now I have a bigger issue in my head—her stripping. If I don’t get her to quit, then Uncle Dane will go to her parents. I need to convince her, fuck knows how. The truth is I don’t know her anymore, so I can’t press the right buttons. Via hates me, and I don’t blame her. After a year away, Toby said she was getting restless. She was threatening to visit me, so I sent her a note through him. He pretended I gave it to him on a prison visit. I remember the note like the ink’s still wet. Four lines I knew would hurt her. Four lines that crushed what was left of my heart. Olivia, Stop asking everyone about me. I have more important things going on in my life right now. You do you, and I’ll do me. Isaac. The note was cold. I even used her proper name rather than the nickname I always called her. I wanted her to hate me. I guess I succeeded and now she does, and fuck if those words haven’t come back to bite me on the arse. The problem is I’m conflicted. I’m never conflicted. I choose my path carefully and only divert if it’s a necessity. Via
is an anomaly for me, not because I can’t control her, although she’s definitely not submissive, but because I can’t control my fucking feelings for her. My heart, brain, and dick all have different thoughts going on when Via is on my mind, and the damn woman doesn’t even need to be in the room. I look down at my now-straining cock and shake my head with a groan. “Just thinking of her, and you’re like a fifteen-year-old boy again.” I scrub my hand down my face. “Shit.” Striding over to the single shower in the gym, I turn it on and strip off my clothes, throwing them in my bag. I’m only twenty feet from the house, but I always bring a bag to take my clothes back. Just outside the shower I have a stand which houses three small lockers. Shelly has the key to one, and I have another, which I keep a few sets of clothes in. The third one is free so we have it piled high with towels. Dividing the gym time means we both get peace in here. She takes evening and night, and I have free rein all day. I step under the hot water as the steam billows out around the room. I only ever had one night with Via, but that fucking night plays over and over on a reel in my head, almost until I can’t breathe. Today, it’s settled on making my dick throb, so I wrap my hand around my girth and grant myself a couple of tugs. Closing my eyes, I think about Via, my mind’s eye decides to imagine her stripping and as much as I
want her to stop doing it for other people, all I can think of is Via giving me a private show. “Ahhh,” I hiss out as my hand glides back and forth. I rub my thumb across the head of my dick as the pre-cum dribbles out. My thoughts finally progress to her kneeling in front of me and taking me in her mouth. “Fuck yeah,” I grind the words out through gritted teeth as I slip over the edge. When I come back down and open my eyes, all I see are the white tiled walls and the pain slams into me again, knowing that’s as much as I’m ever going to get.
“Well, you look more like a woman now,” I goad Shelly when she asks if her outfit is suitable for the party. It probably isn’t the best reply, but I’m still reeling from everything. “Fuck you, dipshit,” she replies, and I chuckle. “Come on, let’s go see the family,” I sigh. “Will she be there?” “Probably,” I answer. Shelly knows all about Via and she knows our history. Unfortunately, when you work as part of a team and do it for so long, you need to air all your dirty laundry and any skeletons you’re holding onto. It takes away any leverage that could be used as blackmail. She
knows everything about me. And I know all about her. Shelly’s had a pretty shit life, and unlike me, she has no family, but she’s a survivor. “Shit. What do you need me to do tonight? Want me to be a bad girlfriend or sweet and innocent?” she asks genuinely trying to do what’s best for me. “Nothing.” I shake my head. “Just be a normal girlfriend… polite, friendly, all that good stuff.” “Ten, four,” she says with a salute, and I arch my eyebrow. She shrugs. “What? I like her.” “I know you do.” Shelly thinks Via has spunk. She likes her, and she hasn’t even met her yet. “Come on, we need to get going. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can slip away.” “Whatever you say, love of my life.” She bats her eyelashes at me. I shake my head. Shelly rarely jests with anyone. She’s as cold and dark as me, but when we’re alone, or when she has to put on an act, she can be funny, silly, and more like her twenty-four years. Pity we rarely get to allow that side of us to thrive. This assignment and being near my family has been the first time in almost a year where we’ve had to act like a couple for any length of time. Plus, on all the other occasions, it has been with strangers. My family knows me, even if they don’t know who I am now. It makes acting all the more difficult—not to mention Via. Shit.
LIV “What should I do?” “Get shitfaced,” Helena answers with a shrug, then goes back to packing her bag. “This is serious,” I whine, plonking myself down on her bed. She’s going to visit her grandparents for a couple of days. They’re the only family she has, but they live up north, so she only goes to visit them a couple of times a year. “I’m serious. Drink everything you can get your hands on and don’t look at him or her all night.” Her eyes search around for something, then she jumps up and rushes over to the bedside table. “Here, I was going to give you this for your
birthday.” Roaming my face with her eyes, she grasps a black box in her hand and thrusts it toward me. “You seem like you might need it earlier.” She hands it to me winking. With cautious fingers I prise open the box and pull out a brand new vibrator. I look down at the huge black object in my hand, then back into my friend. “Well, it’s better than a voodoo doll.” Helena bursts out laughing. “Right, let’s hustle. Put on something sexy.”
I’ve never been nervous attending a family function before. I guess there’s a first time for everything. As I push through the swinging double doors of the local karaoke bar, I spot my family front and centre. This was their thing—my parents, aunts, and uncles. They used to sing at a regular place in Brighton. When that place closed down, they decided to pool their resources and buy a lounge club in London, which they then turned into a karaoke bar. Five years ago they sold it, but it’s still their frequent haunt, especially on special occasions like today. “Livvie!” shouts my plastered-looking mum. “Mum.” I smile as she collides with my chest and hugs me hard. My mum and I are very similar.
Our personalities, both quiet, but also fiery, and if I weren’t tatted up and my hair bleached, then our looks would be considered similar too. As much as I look like my mum, I have my dad’s eyes. Staring over my tornado of a mother’s shoulder, I meet his gaze as he closes in on me. In that instant, I’m Daddy’s little girl again, and I want to cry. “Liv,” my dad whispers as mum lets me go, and I almost throw myself into my dad’s chest. “Are you okay?” he asks me quietly. “I’m fine, Dad,” I murmur, absorbing his love and knowing nothing can hurt me when I’m in his arms. “Isaac!” My mum shouts, and I stiffen, closing my eyes. “You want to talk about it, baby girl?” Dad offers rubbing his hand up and down my back, and I relax a little “No… no.” “I’m always here, Olivia. Always,” he says pulling back and kissing me on the forehead. I smile up at him, making sure not to look back. Stepping to the side, I walk over to the rest of my family making a beeline for Tobias. “Toby,” I whimper pathetically as I step toward him. “Here.” He offers me his arm, sadness in his eyes, and I tuck myself into him taking comfort in the shelter of his body.
As I stand next to Toby, with his arm around my shoulders and fingers running up and down the top of my arm soothing me, Isaac and his girlfriend step up to us. I don’t meet his eyes, I can’t. Not until he grinds out my name. “Via…” His voice is like a command my body automatically reacts to, and my eyes move of their own accord darting to his. I see a simmering anger aimed at me. There’s something he’s trying to keep contained as his stare bounces between Toby and me, finally landing on my arm. His eyes narrow and his lips thin. I can almost feel the jealousy vibrating from him and I frown chancing a quick glance to Shelly. I figure she can feel it too. Her frustration is clear as she elbows him in the side and I try not to giggle. “Hi, I’m Shelly.” She offers me her hand. Searching her face for anger or bitchiness, I’m surprised but pleased when I don’t see anything negative, so I take her hand and smile back. “Hello, I’m Olivia, Isaac’s cousin,” I add and notice him stiffen. Toby steps in. “Hello again, Shelly.” “Hi Tobias,” she replies with a tentative smile. Although I don’t get the feeling she’s a bitch, I do feel like she’s suddenly hiding something. “It’s Toby, please,” he replies smiling. She giggles and tucks her hair behind her ear and my eyes widen as I stare between the two of them.
There’s an obvious chemistry here, and I’m startled by it. I once again look at Isaac. His jaw works as he watches the moment between his brother and his girlfriend play out. I feel both a stab of jealousy and a wave of sadness. “Nice to meet you,” I rush out. “Come on,” I snap at Toby, grabbing his arm which was around my shoulders, I drag him with me. “What the fuck was that?” I hiss as we find some privacy. “What?” he asks with a bite and a dark look. I take a step back as my heart throbs in my chest. My God, he looks like Isaac. I rub my eyes, and Toby’s stare darkens. Stepping back again I slam into a hand dryer which whirs to life. “Fuck,” I gasp, then frown. A hand dryer? Shaking my head, I look around and realise we’re in a disabled toilet. “It’s always him. Every fucking thing is about him,” Toby mumbles to himself. “Toby?” I call, trying to break his focus, but he’s gone somewhere. His body is here, but his mind isn’t. I’m not sure if he can even see me right now, this isn’t a side of him I’m used to. His anguish is etched across his chiselled face, and I’m in the extraordinary position of not knowing what to do. Out of the three brothers, I was always closest to Isaac growing up, but Toby and Isaac were best friends. Since he left, Toby and I have filled that void with each other. Yet, I’ve never seen him like
this, and I’m slightly rattled. He paces back and forth like a caged animal in the small space, his movements push me into the corner. “I love him… he’s my brother,” Toby continues mumbling to himself, then he stops pacing and looks at his feet while rubbing the back of his neck. “Toby,” I murmur, not sure what to say as I wring my hands. “Don’t,” he snaps at breakneck speed. Frowning at his response and slapping my palm on the wall, the storm inside is suddenly rumbling. “What the fuck is your problem?” I grind out. “You. Him. All of it,” he barks as a loud bang hits the door. “What the fuck is going on in there?” I hear the deep growl of Isaac and close my eyes for a second, unsure whether I’m relieved or not. “Always him.” Then, as if it’s happening in slow motion, Toby throws the bottle from his hand. It’s such a small room that I dart back thinking it’s going to hit me, instead the bottle slams into the mirror behind me. I slip twisting as I lose my footing and throw my hands out trying desperately to grip onto something, but all my fingers find is the broken mirror. As I fall, the shards slice into my hand, after which my head smashes into the toilet. Darkness blurs the edges of my vision. Toby’s wide eyes are the last thing I see before the light fades completely.
ISAAC “What the fuck, Toby,” I growl as the door opens. All I can see is Via on the ground with blood running along her arm. I scramble down, and Toby’s muttering fades out like white noise as all my attention shifts to her, my fucking everything. “Ambulance.” I glance up at Shelly, she’s all action now. Shelly passes the phone to a shocked Toby and crouches down next to me, grabbing Via’s arm and holding it up. “Give me something to put pressure on it,” she grunts at me while trying to rouse Olivia. Wake the fuck up, dipshit. I curse myself internally then snap into action. First things first. I
look at Toby. “She better fucking be okay,” I hiss, but his eyes don’t move from her body. I pull my shirt off, thankful that I have a thermal on underneath—although that wouldn’t have stopped me—and tie it around her wrist, running it through her fingers and putting pressure on her palm. Leaning over her, I push Shelly to one side as Via’s eyes flutter open and shut again. “Via, baby,” I murmur low, trying to exhale my fear along with her name. “Isaac?” she rasps. “W-What…” Blinking, Via’s eyes move around the tiny space. I can almost see her thoughts frantically working, trying to piece the night back together. I take a second to wonder why my brother and my… my… Via, were in a disabled toilet, but push it away as my teeth crunch against each other. “Shit, Liv, I’m so sorry,” Toby chokes out, kneeling next to her. “Back the fuck away,” I snarl, and his eyes flit to mine, wariness and pain shimmering on the surface, but right now I don’t care. All I know is Via is bleeding, in pain, and he was the only one in here with her, I can’t think past that. I know my brother would never hurt her intentionally. I love him. He’s my brother and my best friend, but she owns my heart. Even though I’ll never tell her, she is my world, and if someone tries to hurt her, I will stop them, hurt them. I’ll stand in between her and
anyone. Anyone. No matter who they are. “Excuse me, sir.” I drop my head back and turn toward the voice. I quickly move when I realise it’s a paramedic, but I thread my fingers through Via’s on her good hand. “Olivia!” I hear the shout and close my eyes. I had forgotten where we were for a moment. This shit has to stop. I know everything. Every inch of my surroundings, and every person in the vicinity, the escape routes and all the instruments around me that I could use to kill someone. Getting within ten feet of Via and everything I’ve learnt, everything I know, fades away, leaving only my feelings, my heart. Nothing exists beyond her, and when she’s near I forget who I’ve become—who I really am. “Shit.” I pull my hand away and wipe it down my face. I catch her sad eyes and lean over kissing her temple as the other paramedic huffs. I twist my head toward him and glare, he jerks away, and I turn back to Via, my eyes softening. “I need to go talk to your mum. Do you want me to come to the hospital?” “No. I’ll be fine.” She pushes the words out through gritted teeth, and I don’t know whether it’s because she’s in pain physically or emotionally. “Isaac,” Shelly urges with a controlled frustration.
Ignoring her, I stare at Via. “I was gone, Via, and I know that I hurt you… but please believe me when I tell you that although I was gone, you never were. Not from me. Not for a second.” Her sharp inhale causes a penetrating, stabbing sensation in my chest as her eyes fill with tears. I don’t know why I had to tell her that, I just did. Dragging my body away from hers, I push past the paramedic, Toby, and Shelly who have all filled the small space. Once I’m in the hallway I lean down and brace myself on my knees catching my breath. Glancing up, my eyes meet my dad’s and then Uncle Dane’s next to him. They wear a matching look of concern, and I can clearly see their brotherly resemblance. The other paramedic is now talking to Uncle Con and Aunt Pea. My dad edges toward me, but I stand and shake my head sharply before striding outside. I need a moment, there’s an anger inside, and if I don’t pull it back into check, I might combust. Marching down the back alley through the darkness to where my car is parked, I stop and take in a lungful of the crisp night air. It pierces my chest like an alien invasion, and I cough trying to regain some composure. “Isaac.” Shelly breaks the quiet moment. I squeeze my eyelids shut and pull my scattered thoughts together. “You’re too close,” she pauses seeming to weigh up her words. “We’ve worked
together for years, Isaac, I’ve never seen you like this, so… messy.” My head dips, and I lock our eyes. “Don’t.” The word burns through me. Shelly sighs and lowers her head, but then her eyes meet mine once again, and there’s a fire in them, which means she’s going to say what she wants. I clamp my teeth together, grinding my molars, but I let her say her piece. She has saved my arse on numerous occasions, so it’s the least I owe her. “You’ve never been anything but professional, Isaac.” Shelly slumps back against the car as I watch some of the fight drain out of her. “Cold. That’s how you’ve lived. I’ve only ever seen a softer side to you on very rare occasions. Then we come here... ” flinging her arm out, she gestures to the darkness, the nothingness that surrounds us, “… you’ve changed, Isaac.” I look at her, some of my anger simmering down. “I’ve seen you happy since you’ve been here, not glimpses… not just glimpses.” The words die on her tongue as she looks away again. Leaning forward, Shelly wraps her arms around her stomach and grips on tight. I watch the knuckles on her hands as they blanch under her clenched fists. “I like you happy, Isaac.” I frown, not sure why her words surprise me. Twisting her neck, she stares up into my eyes. “But this isn’t who you need to be
if you want to continue being one of us.” Shelly reminds me who I am and it feels like ice chips being shoved down my throat. Pulling the car door open and gesturing to the other side, telling her non-verbally to get in, I throw her words back at her, sensing I’m not the only one conflicted. “Who are you trying to convince Shelly? Me… or you?” Pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes, she glares at me, but then, without even blinking, she disappears into the car leaving my question hanging in the air.
“How is she?” “She’ll be fine, her hand is stitched up, they only want to keep her in overnight because of her mild concussion,” my dad answers down the phone. “Good.” “Isaac—” “Don’t.” “Isaac, you will hear me,” my dad orders. I don’t reply, I just wait on the phone trying desperately to bite my tongue. “You need to speak to Toby.” “No,” I spit. “Yes. He’s really upset with himself.”
“He fucking should be.” “Isaac, he’s your brother, he loves you.” I stop cleaning the pieces of my gun and shake my head. “Fine. Where is he?” “He’s still at the hospital.” “He’s there?” I slam my fist down. “He’s family, Isaac. You know full well that no matter what happened, Liv will want to see him. Anyway, I hate to remind you of this, but he’s been her constant for the last five years… him.” Fuck me, it hurts so damn much to know that my brother took care of my girl… my cousin, dammit. I shake my head trying to ward off the unwanted thoughts. “I know, Dad, I’ll talk to him, okay?” My dad’s audible relief unlocks something inside, and I feel like shit for making him worry. “Gotta go.” I rush out, cutting off the call when I see Shelly hastening her step toward me. “What is it?” I demand, completely alert and primed, ready for action. “There’s been movement at Crackers. Darwin called, they’ve spotted Milton’s men entering and leaving over the last six hours.” “Fuck, why didn’t someone tell me?” “They have, just now. We were busy, and nothing happened so they kept watch.” “What’s changed?” I put my gun back together and gather my favourite knives.
“The assignment has been spotted. They took him in a few minutes ago.” “Fuck.” I close my eyes and slow my mind down. “This is good, it’s what we’ve been waiting for,” Shelly tells me something I already know. Opening my eyes, I mumble out my orders, “Tell Darwin not to move. I’ll call him shortly, and I want a blow by blow if anything happens. Tell Victor and Clint to watch the house, if this is a trap, I don’t want them getting to Craig and Nicola.” Shelly nods and rushes out to relay my instructions. Taking a second to box away all the fucking clutter currently clogging my mind, I pull out my phone. I need to be clear, completely. If I’m not totally on my game, I die. Others die. It’s that simple in my line of work. “Right,” I murmur, and as the word slides off my tongue, my head is back in the game. I’m Kane again. Black Ops. The killer. I’m fucking ready. Pressing the touchscreen of my phone, I place it next to my ear. It barely rings. “Arlo.” “Go to Crackers, wait out back and bring King. You’ll know when you’re needed.” “Got it,” he replies, and I cut the call, immediately dialling again. “Darwin,” is murmured low. “Can you see the assignment?”
“Yes.” “How many are around him?” “Two. Another four out back. Two in front and four having a heated discussion just inside the entrance,” he explains. “On my signal, you’ll be able to get to him, extract him safely?” I question. “Do you need to ask me that?” His soft growl makes me smile. “See you in ten,” I reply and cut him off. I double check my gun and walk back into the main house grabbing my leather jacket. “You’re taking the bike?” Shelly asks, a look of surprise passes over her face. “Yeah,” I reply grabbing my helmet. “And me?” “There’s four out back. Arlo and King.” She nods. “Two with the assignment. Darwin.” Once again she nods. “Two out front. You.” “Right. And you?” she replies. “Four inside the entrance.” “Okay, I’ll do my two then come help.” She smirks. “Appreciate it.” I grin back, then stride to the garage. Looking between my Kawasaki Ninja and my Honda CBR1000, I sigh. “Sorry, old friend.” The apology makes me grit my teeth as I know what I’m going to do to my Honda. I love my bikes, both black—both dark—just like me. I hate this,
but I’ll do what’s needed. Always. “You ready?” Shelly asks, pulling up next to me on her Ducati. I nod. “When we get there, watch for my hand signal, then hang back for a moment. When you see me go, take five seconds then you’ll be up, full throttle, to take those first two guys out.” She nods back at me, and I pull on my helmet before riding off. As I close in on the dark warehouse, I know I’ll only have one chance. It’s late, most of the industrial area around us is quiet. However, the mill next door runs constantly, making a low humming noise. It’s enough to disguise my bike, but in a moment, they’ll hear me. Shelly rides close behind, and we navigate as one, both having already turned our lights off. Just as I come up to the opening, I know they’ll spot me any second, so I wave my right arm out. Shelly backs off slightly, and I pull forward full throttle. I can’t hear much over the sound of my bike and my helmet, however, I can see the two guards now shouting, running, and their guns are up. I’m about eighty feet from them now applying the break as the bike starts slowing, and as the back end steps out. I lean back until the bike slides out from under me. I can’t see much as I tumble, but I hear the crash of the bike smashing through the huge wooden doors of the building. As the momentum
starts leaving me, I reach for my helmet pulling it off. I hear shooting and noise everywhere now. Coming to a stop on my back, I pull my gun out and up and am about to kill the man running toward me when he’s shot from behind, immediately falling to the ground. Shelly tips her imaginary hat at me. I jump up and run inside the building. Shelly has two men on her, and two approach me. There’s a third at my back. He thinks I’m not aware of his presence, but he’d be wrong. “You made a mistake coming here,” one of them shouts. I point at his head and shoot. My aim is true, and I don’t know what these dickheads expected as their eyes widen. Twisting sideways, I shoot the one behind me with my right arm, while pulling my knife out and throwing it at the other guy with my left. It lands in his thigh, and he retaliates firing his gun twice, missing with the first bullet but grazing the side of my face with the second. I throw my spare knife, and it impales him in the gut. As he drops, I spin to the man behind me. I know I didn’t kill him, and I need to clean up. Taking the four steps to reach him, his breathing is shallow as his lungs fill with blood. I don’t blink as I put a bullet in his head and walk the other way, intent on doing the same to his friend. I lean down and pull my knives from his body, cleaning them on his shirt before tucking them away.
I look around, my team are all huddled now, and a few dead bodies litter the area. “Shelly, call Dean and Brand. Clean up,” I state as my eyes travel further across the expanse of the open warehouse. She nods and moves away pulling out her phone. “The Assignment?” I ask Darwin. “Here,” he says, revealing a seven-year-old boy behind him. The kid looks scared shitless. He has a few scrapes and is a little dirty, probably undernourished from being with these bastards for four weeks, but otherwise, he looks okay. “Get him to base, call Clint and Victor, and tell them to bring Craig and Nicola. He’ll need his parents. They don’t need to know that we’ve found him yet, though. Just take them there but keep them separate from him until I get there.” Darwin nods and moves away flanked by King and Arlo, who’s now speaking into his phone, no doubt relaying my orders to Clint. “Are you okay?” Shelly asks glancing at my bleeding cheek now the others have left. “Yeah, it’s just a graze,” I tell her still looking around the space. “And the rest of you? That wasn’t a small tumble from your bike, which is wrecked by the way. I know you meant to do it, but still…” she leaves her sentence hanging. “The adrenaline is still pumping, I’ll be fine for a
while, then I’ll rest.” “Crazy fucker,” she mumbles before walking toward her bike. “Shelly.” She turns and waits for me to speak. “Keys,” I demand and hold my hand out. She rolls her eyes and throws her bike keys at me which I catch while making my way to her Ducati. It’s a woman’s bike—that just my opinion —but I can’t deny, as I slide on and she jumps on behind me, that even with it just sitting idle, it sounds nice. As I pull on the throttle, and we rush forward, I concede I like the power. Maybe I’ll consider a Ducati as my next buy. I drive back to our house first, needing to get my Kawasaki and give Shelly her bike back because when this shit is done, I need to go see my brother.
LIV Waking up with a pounding headache, I blink back the curse that sits on the tip of my tongue. I take in the whitewashed sterile walls of the hospital room and pull myself into a sitting position. In films and books, when people have been in hospital, they wake up to a group of family and friends who fall upon them, cooing with joy that the person is awake. I wake up to an empty room. “Figures,” I mutter, falling back on the bed. An internal door swings open making me jump, and Toby bursts through it. “Liv.” He rushes out barrelling over to me. “Bloody typical, the minute I go to take a piss, you
wake up,” he huffs, taking a seat next to me. “Just the vision I wanted.” I deadpan, raising an eyebrow. Toby hangs his head, and I give him the time he needs. I know him so well. He wants to apologise, but he’s trying to think of exactly the right words. “There’re no words I can throw at you to excuse myself,” he tells me, meeting my eyes with his. I nod. He’s right, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still love him. He needed to acknowledge his behaviour, and he has. “I’m sorry, Liv. I’m still not entirely sure what happened.” His head drops down again. “Everything just built and exploded. I guess there was too much… past, present, and foreseeing my future in the same way.” “What way?” I ask. “In Isaac’s shadow.” I frown. There’s nothing I can say. I’m surprised and a little pissed off at him. “I’m sorry.” “You said that already,” I snap. “Liv?” His head bolts up, his questioning gaze meets my angry one. “He’s your brother and your best friend,” I hiss out. “For years he’s been stuck inside a prison cell, and you’ve had your family and friends around you. How could you possibly be in his damn shadow?” I hurl the words at him. Toby pinches the bridge of his nose, and I sigh.
“I’m sorry.” I find myself repeating his words back to him. “I guess I never felt like I was good enough. Like I was the poor imitation of my big brother. Just not quite hitting the mark.” His tone is one of defeat. “You were always good enough,” I tell him and his returning smile relaxes me. Toby grabs my hand in his. “I know, Liv. Although, you and I only started dancing together after he went to prison.” I open my mouth about to argue then close it again. He’s right. I used to dance with Isaac. The only time I danced with Toby was when Isaac wasn’t around. “I didn’t know it bothered you,” I tell him. “It didn’t.” The corner of his mouth twitches and I slap him on his bicep. “Wanker.” He bursts into laughter. “Are we good?” he asks as we both fall silent. “Always, Toby.” My words are warm. “No more smashing mirrors, okay?” He blanches. “No, not again.” Some grudges are worth holding onto, and some actions demand harsher consequences. There are those people who would have made it harder for Toby. Although I’m still annoyed by his actions, I feel like I should give him some leniency. The
number of times over the last few years he’s helped me out, saved me, cared for me—times that other people have no idea about—I owe him a little understanding. “You like Shelly,” I state. “I like Shelly.” He parrots me, and I’m shocked he admits his feelings so freely. “Does Isaac know?” I question. He shrugs. “Probably now.” He can’t stop the smirk that spreads across his face. I blow out a breath, not knowing what to say. Toby doesn’t seem too worried, and I narrow my eyes at him. “What aren’t you telling me, Tobias?” I bark. “If there’s something I’m keeping from you, and I’m not saying there is, then it would indicate that it’s something I can’t tell you.” Rolling my eyes, I purse my lips. “Good job you’re not a spy, Toby. You’d be crap at it.” He forces a chuckle, and I shake my head. Tiredness overcomes me, so I close my eyes, letting sleep take me away again.
The next morning when I wake I really am alone, but only for about ten minutes until my mum and dad enter and fawn all over me.
“You’ve come to take me home?” “We have,” my mum tells me, fussing. “I’m going back to my place,” I emphasise. My mum opens her mouth to say something, but my dad steps in. “Yes, if that’s what you want?” I nod. “You know you’re always welcome home, baby,” he offers, and a glisten of emotion coats my eyes before I blink it away and nod in reply. “Thanks, Dad,” I whisper. He squeezes my hand as my mum continues gathering my belongings. “Love you both,” I tell them and my mum comes over and cuddles me. “Love you too, my baby,” she murmurs into my hair, while Dad mouths I love you to me.
“What the actual fuck?” Helena shouts, slamming her bag down on the armchair. “I go away for one bloody weekend, and all hell breaks loose!” “It’s fine, everything’s fine,” I soothe, patting the seat next to me. She sits down and turns around to face me crossing her legs like we’re still in primary school. “Well, you look okay,” she decides, moving to look at the side of me. “I’m fine. It’s going to be a couple of days until the bandage can come off my hand, and I’ll need to
have the stitches out in about ten days, but I feel okay,” I tell her. “What about work?” she asks, and I shrug. “I guess I’ll wear gloves for a bit.” I wink. She doesn’t look convinced, but she also doesn’t say anything further about it. “Right, well, you with that gammy hand—” “My hand is not gammy!” I splutter. “Whatever.” She shrugs. “You’re not going to be able to cook. I’m making pasta, you want some?” “Please.” I smile fluttering my eyelashes for effect. Helena shakes her head and gets up to make us dinner. Picking up my phone I toy with it. I desperately want to call Isaac, but what would I say? Hi, I’m okay. The hospital was boring. I’m going back to work now. We have so much to catch up on. What happened to you over the last five years? Yeah, definitely not the last one. Puffing out a breath I sink back into the corner of the sofa deciding not to text him. My life was easier before Isaac came back, but at the same time, I can’t deny that I’m glad he’s here. A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts. “Oi, sunshine, no lazing about, we have company,” Helena shouts from the hall then Holly appears in the doorway.
“Hey, Hol’s,” I greet. Her face is slightly red as she blows a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Whatcha got there?” My questioning gaze lingers on the mini suitcase she has at her feet. “You, get a chair, I’m doing your extensions,” she answers pointing at me. I can’t help the smile that erupts. I was supposed to call her to set up an appointment, but with everything that’s happened, it keeps getting pushed into the background. “Cool,” I whisper and rise from the sofa to get a chair.
“What do you think?” “It looks bloody amazing,” I say twirling like a kid in front of my full-length mirror. Holly’s been working on my hair for hours, but I now have a platinum blonde mane down to my waist, making my tats stand out more. It looks incredible, and I feel great. I’m honestly over the moon. “I’m so damn good,” Holly replies taking a little bow. Snorting at her, I smile and grab her around the waist. She squeals as I squeeze tight, trying to pick her up. My hair looks amazing, and I’m not even thinking about the fact that Isaac prefers my hair long.
Not even a little. Not at all.
ISAAC “You want to explain that shit with Via to me?” Toby shrugs his shoulders and looks away from my stare. “Really slowly, so I can be sure to understand your fucked-up reasoning which led to her being in the hospital.” I watch as a muscle jumps in his jaw. Good. I’m pissing him off, that might mean I’ll get the damn truth. “I didn’t mean that shit,” he bites back turning his angry eyes to me. I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow. “That doesn’t mean it wasn’t your fault.”
“Fuck you, Isaac!” he snaps. I move faster than he’s used to, and he startles as I pin him to the wall with my forearm. “Listen, I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at with Via, but she’s—” “What? She’s yours?” he chokes out, pushing my arm away from his throat. I take a step back more affected by his statement than I expect. “When was she yours? When you were actually in prison for that first year and didn’t answer her constant pleas? When you ignored her for another four fucking years after you got out? When you lied to her time and time again?” He shoves my shoulder, his anger thickening the air around us. “What about when you came back here and flaunted Shelly in her face?” “That’s just a front, and you know it,” I snarl at him. He leans into me, his nose a mere inch from mine, and if he wasn’t my brother, he’d be dead already. “But she doesn’t.” He pulls back, and we stare at each other panting hard as our emotions get the better of us both. It’s strange for me, I don’t operate on feelings. I haven’t done for years, not since I let her go. My shoulders slump, he’s only telling me what I already know, there’s no arguing with the truth, but that doesn’t detract from his behaviour.
“You’re right,” I concede and watch his responding frown. “But that doesn’t mean you can act like a bastard and hurt Via in the process.” He steps away, covering his face and rubbing his palms over the anguish I see so clearly now. Lowering himself onto one of my workout benches, I repeat the process and seat myself on the other one. He found me in my gym at home after I sent him a text ordering him to come and explain himself, but I haven’t gotten to the bottom of anything yet. “It all got out of hand,” he whispers. “You got out of hand,” I counter, an edge to my voice. “Yes, fine.” He throws his hands up. “I got out of hand.” “Why?” I demand. He studies me for a moment. “Why?” Keeping my mouth shut, I nod. Toby sighs dropping his head. There’s a slight sway coming from his dangling arms, and the shadow of them passes across his feet where the sunlight and shade clash. “Two years ago I received a letter from Social Services. They asked me to get in contact with them.” Easing the bench back, pushing until it touches the mirror, I try to relax against it, but every muscle is strung tight waiting for something to drop. And then it does.
“I met with a lady at their offices. Apparently, they’d tried to get in contact with you but had no luck, and I was the next in line.” “In line?” I question. “The next of kin.” I bolt up, standing, towering over my brother’s hunched form. “Kin?” I thunder. Toby’s head snaps up, and his pained eyes meet mine. “Kin,” he says, and I lower myself back to the bench. I have no words. For once in my life I’m shocked, and I don’t know how to deal with it. I’m having trouble processing this feeling—very little shocks me. “Apparently, there was an aunt who knew about us.” I wait, needing to know everything. I’ve pulled myself back from my momentary lapse in selfcontainment and am ready to take my usual measured approach. “She had some things that belonged to our parents. I’m not sure why she kept them for so many years.” He shrugs as if it will answer his question. “But it was in her will, to be passed onto the department, and then sent to us, to you.” “Why me?” Toby shakes his head. “I don’t know. At a guess I would say because you’re the eldest.” “So what did they give you?” “Photos, jewellery, documentation like our
original birth certificates.” “And? There’s more isn’t there?” I push. “I can’t do this shit.” Toby starts rising. “Sit down now,” I growl at him. His eyes widen, but he follows my instruction. My family has never seen the other side of me— they’ve never see Kane. I can tell that although my brother has known what I am for years, the realisation is only just sinking in. “I’m fucking sitting,” he spits his words at me, but it’s only to cover his fear, and my stomach revolts. I don’t want my family to be scared of me. Not ever. “Shit, I’m sorry.” I sigh, and he visibly relaxes before my eyes. “This is one messed-up situation.” There’s a rawness, a torment in his tone. “Messed up? That’s the verb you’re choosing?” I say with a small grin. He looks up at me and I watch as a shadow moves through his eyes. “There were letters.” Raising my chin, I wait for him to continue. “Tell me, Isaac, do you know anything about our parents?” “Yes.” His eyes widen at my omission. We were never told much about where we came from. Mum and Dad weren’t told much just that our parents died and we were fostered for about a year before they
adopted us. Toby leans forward, his mouth opening and closing as if he’s trying to capture his words in the air. Seeming to gather his thoughts he asks, “What do you know and how?” I raise an eyebrow at him, not sure why he’s asking how when he knows I can obtain any information I want in my job. “What do you know?” An internal debate ensues as I decide how much to reveal. “Do you really want to know, no matter the answer?” I ask quietly. His eyes assess me, he takes time to come to a conclusion. “Yes.” “Okay. Our father got hooked on crack, then one day he shot our mother in the head.” His torso jerks backwards as though I punched him in the gut. “Don’t mince your words, big brother.” Crossing my arms, I lean back stoically. What more can I say? It’s what I know, and now so does Toby. “They wanted you, not me.” His words are scratchy like they clawed their way up from deep inside. “I’ve got the letters. Before Lawson came along, they were thinking of putting me up for adoption.” Frowning, I lean forward. “You’re sure?” “I read the fucking letters, Isaac. I know what
they said.” “What exactly?” Toby’s head falls back and hits one of the bars from my weight machine. “Bollocks!” He slams the word out, and it’s more than just the instant pain. It’s like a battle cry without the battle. “Toby.” “Okay, fuck!” he grunts, rubbing his head. “They were letters from our mother, but they weren’t addressed to anyone and were never posted. I think they were meant to be a diary of sorts.” I nod for him to continue. “They started by saying how amazing you were, but then went on to say that she was pregnant again and didn’t know how she would cope.” I stiffen as he unfolds the story. “As the letters continue, she has me then admits to contacting adoption agencies.” He looks at me, and all I see is my little five-year-old brother, sad and scared, and I want to rip someone, anyone, apart just to feel better. “She filled the letters with line after line of how perfect her life was before I came along. And how, because of me, her and our father were on the brink of collapse.” I feel a flurry of anger for my brother. “Basically, she wanted you, but not me. When I came along she was scared, upset, and angry. I found adoption forms, Isaac. She was going to give me away, not you, me.” He digs at his chest and stands up.
“But she didn’t,” I finish the story. “Obviously,” he snaps. “I don’t know why. There were no more letters after that.” Toby lets out a huff. “They went on to have Lawson…” Our youngest brother’s name hangs in the air, like a lynchpin waiting to be pulled. “They obviously fixed their life, but it was my arrival that nearly destroyed them.” He hurls, ramming his thumb into his chest again. I stand, stretching my arms, the muscles twitch as I reach upward, taking a moment for myself. I knew a lot about our biological parents. Everything gets dragged up when you go into Black Ops, only to be hidden again. I never knew about those letters though. No one did, and Toby, alone, has been living with the venomous ink scrawled on those pages. But that doesn’t explain his behaviour two nights ago. Lifting my chin he catches my gaze, and although I’ve been away for a long time, he’s my brother, my best friend, and he knows what I need. “Shit. Okay, the other night.” I lean back against the mirrored wall tucking my hands into my jogger pockets—the look is casual, relaxed. I’m neither right now. “It was stupid. Liv dragged me into the toilets.” My teeth grind down hard. Toby must see the strain on my face as his eyes widen, and he holds up his hands.
“Fuck me, not like that. She tore me a new one for flirting with your bloody girlfriend.” My head jerks back slightly as my anger calms. “It sets something in motion inside me. Something wrong and stupid, but I couldn’t control the frustration anymore. It reminded me that you had the girl.” “I don’t have Shelly.” “Shitting hell, I know that, Isaac. But you have Shelly, even if it’s fake. You have Liv, even if you aren’t with her—” I cut him off. “Are you shitting me here? You trying to tell me that you want Via?” I growl low. “Will you fucking listen!” he bellows, and I raise an eyebrow at him. “Always so damn impatient,” he bitches to himself, I can’t help the chuckle that lets loose. With a roll of his eyes that seems to release his bitterness, he continues his explanation. “I never wanted Liv, not like that. Hey, I still don’t,” he confirms when I can’t help narrowing my eyes on him. “She dances with me now, did you know that?” His words cause a sting. It’s like having an open wound with no chance of it healing, and he’s just sprinkled salt into it. I shake my head. “Well, she does. She never did, it was always you. You got the dance partner, you got the girls…” “You’ve had your fair share of women, Toby.” “I know, but it was always you. Our real parents
wanted you. I guess it all got on top of me in the end, and I reacted in the worst way.” I let his words filter and process taking a deep, slow inhale in through my nose. Feeling my chest rising, I blow the breath out through my teeth. Toby hears the hiss, and his head whips up until our eyes meet. He sucks in a breath at what he can see, and I hope it’s the last time I look upon my brother like this. “I want to say two things,” I tell him, and his eyes are wary. “But I’ll preface them both by saying you are my brother, and I love you, always.” “Okay.” His voice trembles before he coughs to clear it. “First, our real parents are Saul and Sophie James. Don’t ever forget that.” His eyes cast downward, he swallows a couple of times feeling my meaning. “Second.” The word is hard, and he quickly gives me his eyes again. “I love you, but if you ever hurt Via again…” I shake my head and bite down clinking my teeth together. “Fuck. Let’s just agree that it’s never going to happen.” “Never,” he repeats, shame filling his eyes. I don’t want to see that look on my brother, but he’s acted like a dick, and I had to spell shit out to him. Never let things slide even with family. Whatever I am, whatever I end up being, there’s one person who claimed me before I even knew
what being claimed was. Olivia McKenna was always supposed to end up being Olivia James. She was always supposed to be mine. My life took a turn which made me re-evaluate, but this is the first time in five years I’ve wondered if I took the wrong path. Seeing her on the floor bleeding, I suddenly felt real fear. After walking away, it’s finally sunk in that, although I never want her to be in that situation again, if she were, it could be some other guy by her side, holding her hand, whispering in her ear. She’ll always be my family. If I want to remain in their lives, I’ll have to swallow a fucking dirty, painful pill and watch her being loved by someone else, or worse, watch her loving someone else. “What is it? You look… scared,” Toby whispers, his voice sounds so far away. It takes a moment to still my thoughts. Blinking, I focus my eyes on him. “I’ve done things,” I murmur. “If she found out…” “She’d still fucking love you. This is Liv we’re talking about,” he shoots back. Threading my fingers together around the back of my neck, I look out of the window and skyward. “Shit, this isn’t going to be easy.”
LIV Life has a way of slapping you in the face repeatedly sometimes. Like, if you’re too happy, reality dishes up a shark bite, and if you’re not careful, it will tear you apart. That’s how I felt this morning when my mum called and told me that Aunt Libby has cancer. The stories of how my parents, aunts, and uncles got together have been told time and time again over the years. Uncle Dane and Aunt Libby’s story was probably the saddest. After losing their families and being abused in a foster home, they found each other. Then Uncle Dane was asked to model and went away on a photoshoot for a few weeks. When
he returned, Aunt Libby had vanished. It would be over ten years until he found her, only to nearly lose her again. That time was never fully explained to me. I just know it was pretty bad, and it involved her being kidnapped. Uncle Dane loves Aunt Libby with a ferocity that I can only hope to have someone feel for me one day. He calls her Nova, his supernova. I don’t know what to do with this information, and although I’m hurting, I can only imagine the agony he’s going through right now. I’m not sure how long I sit on the sofa staring out the window with shock and sadness flowing through my veins. A knock on the door makes me jump, and I half-heartedly shuffle to the door and open it. My eyes take in Toby, but I say nothing. I just turn around and walk back to my spot on the sofa. “Are you all right?” he asks sitting next to me. I shake my head. “Not really. You?” “It’s shit.” “Yeah.” Our conversation stalls. “Have you spoken to Isaac?” he asks, and it’s the last thing I expect him to say. I turn to face him and frown. “No, should I have?” He shrugs in response. “Yes, no, maybe. I don’t know.” I frown harder. “What?”
“We had a chat,” he reveals. “About?” “You, me, us.” “Us?” I question, my voice breaking on the word. “Not us, us. But the bigger us, you know? You, Isaac, me.” I rub my eyes and blink a couple of times. “You’re making no sense, Toby, and my brain is too fried to decipher, so spit it out.” “He wanted to know what happened the other night. He was pissed that I hurt you.” I close my eyes and let the warm feeling slide through me, before pushing it away and remembering he has a girlfriend. “Did you explain?” I ask, curious. He still hasn’t told me exactly why he acted the way he did and even though I’ve tried not to, a small part of me is still holding a grudge about his behaviour. “Yeah. I know I told you it was about being in his shadow, but it was more than just women and things. A little while ago I got some documentation, including letters, stuff that belonged to our birth mother.” “Oh,” is all I can manage as I sit shocked. “The letters were mainly filled with how much they loved Isaac, then when I came along, how they wanted to have me adopted. They didn’t want me, Liv.”
I gasp as my eyes fill with tears, and I reach out my hand to him. Toby quickly grabs it and holds tight. “Toby.” “It’s okay, I’ve known about it for a long time. I was overwhelmed the other night. I’d never dealt with what the letters said or the emotion I felt. After speaking to Isaac, I feel better. Then we had a Skype call with Lawson too, and hashed some stuff out. Honestly, I’m good.” “Good,” I croak. “But that’s not why I’m here. I wanted to explain why I behaved like a wankstain, and I also wanted to apologise, again.” “You’re forgiven.” He frowns. “Honestly, this time you’re truly forgiven,” I say with a smile, and Toby grins back. He knows me well and knew I was still smarting over what happened. We sit quietly, but he keeps our fingers threaded. I can’t stop my thoughts wandering all over the place. “You know he still loves you.” “No. He has Shelly,” I respond, not looking at him. “She’s not real.” I tear my eyes from the window and whirl to meet Toby’s. “What?” He grimaces, and I wonder if he overshared. “I mean, his feelings for her aren’t real. He’ll always
love you.” I turn back to the window. “Maybe, but he’ll never choose me.” “Maybe he will.” I sigh. “Maybe it will be too late.” I feel Toby deflate. “Maybe.”
“Jesters tonight?” I murmur down the phone line to Helena while eyeing Toby as he fries bacon. “Yeah, I have a late client. I’ll grab Holly and meet you both there?” “Sure. Don’t forget I still want my new tat.” She sighs, and I can almost feel her nodding against her will. “Sure. When?” “Well, it’s my first night back at work tomorrow so let’s go for the weekend?” “Sure.” Helena hangs up, and I look over at Toby as he makes the first bacon sarnie. I walk past and grab one, half shoving it in my mouth. “Damn you, woman,” he moans. I wink in reply and walk into my room shutting the door behind me and opening my wardrobe with one hand, while pushing more food into my mouth with the other. My phone starts ringing. “Dammit,” I complain, nearly choking when I see it’s Isaac calling.
“‘Lo,” I answer, still chewing. “Via.” His voice is like a comfort blanket wrapping around me. I imagine throwing it off as my spine straightens. “Isaac, what do you want?” I sigh. “I want to see you.” “That’s not a good idea.” “Give me one solid reason why?” “Shelly.” Silence follows, I almost call his name to see if he’s still there. “Via.” My name is merely a murmur, so soft as if he’s caressing it. “It’s always been you.” My breath catches, and I throw the remainder of my food in the bin before squeezing my eyes shut, trying to stop the inevitable tears. After a minute, I calm down enough to talk. “Then tell me what happened in those five years, tell me why you wouldn’t talk to me.” “No,” his reply is instant. “No?” I practically spit the word. With a shake of my head, it dawns on me that no matter my feelings, or his, there will never be anything more between us because there’s already so much. A mass of insurmountable obstacles stopping the real connection taking root. “Via, I’m—” “Don’t bother,” I cut him off. “You have Shelly, and you won’t be honest with me. I don’t think
there’s anything more to add.” He sighs. “Via, there is so much more, I just can’t tell you. Not yet.” I drop backwards onto my bed, covering my eyes with my forearm. “Isaac, listen, when you’re single, and ready to be completely honest, then come find me, if I’m still available.” “What the fuck does if I’m still available mean?” he growls. “Goodbye Isaac,” I hiss cutting him off as he calls my name. I give myself only a few moments to wallow in self-pity. Not so long that I feel the need to go out and find Helena so she can slap some sense into me. Standing, I do ten star jumps to get the blood pumping. I shake my whole body out and awaken my inner dancer. “Right, let’s find the perfect outfit,” I say to myself moving back to my wardrobe. When going to clubs these days, I see most women wearing tight pencil skirts with bandage style crop tops. I rarely do. It restricts my dancing, and while most people go to clubs to find a sexual partner or at least a little flirtation, I go to dance. “You,” I mumble, pulling out a black crop top and black leggings with silver crosses printed all over them. I tug the leggings on and slip the top over my head, adding a pair of black ankle boots with pin-thin high heels. I finish off my makeup and
brush my now long platinum hair. Finally satisfied with my appearance, I face myself in the mirror and smile devilishly. Tonight I’m going to heat up the dance floor. “Is it a whiskey or wine night?” Toby asks as we enter the club. I glance back at him and shout above the music, “If you bring me wine tonight, I may stab you with my heels.” “Noted.” He smirks and heads toward the bar.
A few hours later and after a brief conversation with everyone, I’ve left them back at a table on the balcony overlooking the dance floor so they can see me. Going downstairs, my eyes meet Josh, a guy I have been dancing with all night. “You’re back,” he shouts as he joins me among the sweaty bodies. “Shhh,” I reply pressing my finger to his lips. I close my eyes and lose myself to the rhythm. The songs change from one to another, time and time again. Mid-song a prickle canters across my skin, and my eyes shoot open searching the crowd. I spot him. Standing head and shoulders above everyone, his eyes are hooded and roaming all over me. He spies Josh’s hand attached to my hip and
even from across the room, I can see a muscle stretch and tighten in his cheek. “I need a drink,” I say, leaning toward Josh and indicating I’m going to leave the dance floor. “You stay, I’ll get it,” he tells me, and I consider his offer before nodding in agreement. He walks toward the bar as I continue dancing. Isaac’s eyes pin me down and only move away at the last minute as Josh walks past him. Isaac turns and joins Josh at the bar. I have no idea what he says, but the next moment Josh has visibly paled and quickly glances back at me with fear before rushing through the crowd—away from me. Fucking Isaac. He turns and watches Josh leave, but I don’t, I can’t tear my eyes away from Isaac’s face. There’s a hardness in his eyes, an edge that’s aimed fully at the man who has danced with me all night. My breath stutters, and I momentarily lose control when he moves his gaze back to me. His features change, warmth fills his eyes along with recognition and something else, something animalistic. One song finishes, and Beyoncé’s ‘Crazy in Love’ comes on, but it’s the slow, sexy remix. Isaac strides over, and with no words, pulls me flush into him. Every part of us is touching, and I can’t control myself. I sometimes forget he can dance. Aunt Sophie taught all three of her boys well. My favourite dance style is Bachata Sensual.
It’s a fusion dance based on the traditional bachata from the Caribbean. I’ve always loved the movement and intimacy. It’s a follow and lead dance, and there are no set steps. It’s all about feeling the dance and the man is always the master. It’s sexy and sensual. I’ve only ever danced it with Isaac. Like no time has passed since we were last standing in this position, he leads my every movement, pulling my body so I’m rubbing up against him. His leg slips in between mine and our hips grind as they move from side to side. I almost groan. We might have clothes on, but there is no doubt in my mind that we’re having sex on the dance floor. Every second I watch him, his eyes are hooded and primal, and I want to rip our clothes away. Isaac leans toward me like he’s going to touch our lips, but shoots straight past my face in rhythm to the music and catches my earlobe between his teeth, nipping then pulling back. I sink into the dance, the music infusing my body, mind, and soul. I forgot how enjoyable it was to dance with him, and I switch off completely handing myself over to Isaac once again. He spins and guides me in our sexual dance, touching me at every given opportunity, even when the move doesn’t require it. It’s powerful, hot, and a little bit dark. It’s completely Isaac.
He turns my body away from him pulling my back flush to his chest and bends me over at the waist. I close my eyes for just a second, biting my lip as I feel his dick press into me. A shiver runs down my spine, and I smile. I still affect him. Tipping my chin up and opening my eyes, I notice the crowd circling us, but I just don’t care. Isaac squats behind me bouncing on his haunches, then pushes up to standing whilst running his hands up the insides of my legs. To everyone else, this is just part of our sexy dance. But, I’m the one who feels like she’s going to explode when, against the very tight material, I feel pressure from the tips of his thumbs as they run the length of my pussy, before he removes them, pulling me back up into his solid frame. My stomach spins like a washing machine on the fastest cycle, and I feel cold when his arms move away from my waist. He quickly clasps my hand in his, and we’re dancing side by side. I’m glad he always adds a little latin and salsa as it gives me a second to compose myself. As the song starts coming to an end, he once again drags me into him. Running his palm down between my breasts, he slips lower reaching my navel, before ghosting his fingertips over my hips. As the music stops, his lips are hovering over mine, our eyes locked. The lull between songs gives him just enough time to crush me all over again.
“This is why you shouldn’t bother dancing with anyone else, your body only responds to my touch, Via,” he says, a smirk forming on his lips. Before I can reply, the next song has started, and I’m looking at his back as he walks through the crowd. Bastard.
ISAAC “You want out?” my handler asks. I look across at the older black woman noticing there’s new lines around her eyes. Just over four years ago I met Doreen. I’m pretty sure that’s not her real name, but it’s the only one I know. She organised my release from prison, and since then she’s given me my assignments and dealt with any issues. I like her, as much as I can anyone in this environment. Nodding, I don’t offer her words. “You have never been the talkative type,” she says, her lips in a thin line as usual. “You wanna get some knitting out and form a
trust circle?” I ask, and this time her lips twitch as she fights a smile. “Kane—” “Isaac,” I interrupt. “Not to me.” “Kane doesn’t remain,” I tell her. “As far as this department is concerned, Kane still does.” “What department?” I question, knowing full well that Black Ops doesn’t officially exist. Her lips purse in time with her eyebrow arching. “Fair enough, Kane,” she says making her point clear. “I will see what I can do. In the meantime, you are to keep cover and live here with Shelly.” I rub my head, not happy with those orders, but knowing I’ll have to bite my tongue for now. “Remember, if a command comes in, I will expect you to fall in line and do your job.” I don’t speak as she gets up from her chair and walks out of the coffee shop. I watch as five operatives slowly follow her out. Then I shake my head blowing out a frustrated breath.
“What reason did you give?” Shelly asks. “I told her my aunt has cancer.” “So, no mention of Liv?”
“No. You know that wouldn’t have been enough.” Shelly drops her head back on the chair. “Yeah, I know.” I study her. There’s an exhaustion that rolls off her these days. “You want out,” I state. She blinks as if clearing the haze, surprise passes across her face. “I might live with you, but don’t become complacent about who I am, Shelly. I can read people, you know that.” “I know,” she sighs. “And yeah, I want out too,” she whispers. With a groan, I force my body to relax. We both want out, but it’s a longshot that either of us will gain our freedom. Fuck knows what’s going to happen. I need to focus on what I can deal with and right now that’s Via working as a stripper. Uncle Dane hasn’t said anything to my parents, but that would be because he’s preoccupied with Aunt Libby’s illness. I need to try to help him, but his problem is one I can’t fix. I know how much he loves her and years out of the business or not, I can imagine how suffocated he’s feeling unable to do anything and wanting to kill everyone. If it was Via? Well, I can’t think of her like that, or I’d tear everything apart. “So, what are we doing tonight?” Shelly questions, pulling herself up from the armchair. “I’m going to ShadowBox, you coming?”
Her eyes light up. “Fuck, yeah.” I chuckle. Shelly isn’t into women, at least I don’t think she is, but I know that being cooped up in this house so much makes us all feel like caged animals. It’s good to let off steam once in a while. “You want out,” I say, and her step falters as she walks away. Slowly she turns to face me. “Yeah, I already said that.” “Tell me, do you like my brother?” It’s a question I’ve never asked her before, but I see the way they look and flirt with each other, it’s hard not to notice—trained to or not. Shrugging, Shelly opens and closes her mouth four times. I count. “It’s not a difficult question, or at least it shouldn’t be,” I tell her. “It’s so much more fucking complicated than you’re making it out to be though, right?” she replies, leaning back against the wall. “No.” “No?” she asks sceptically. “My parents know what we are, so does Toby.” I shrug. “Yeah, but what about the rest of your family?” “Easy, I publically dump you like a fucking dick and make them feel sorry for you. Then no one will care when you and Toby hook up.” She shakes her head at me with a sad smile. “Worst idea ever, dickhead.” “Okay, well you think of something better, and
we’ll go with that,” I say with a wink, which I can see takes her aback as her eyes widen. “Damn, Liv is a great influence on you,” she says softly. My eyes darken along with my mood, and Shelly holds up her hands. “Whoa, happy, it doesn’t hurt to smile.” She giggles to herself —fucking giggles—before walking off. My damn family has turned Shelly into Mrs. fucking Doubtfire.
LIV Pasta is my saviour most days. I don’t cook much. I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t want to or that I can’t. My lack of enthusiasm means I’ve never bothered to find out. But pasta I can cook, and being a dancer is the reason that particular food has always been my saviour. I shovel the last forkful into my mouth and groan with pleasure. “You sound like a dirty bitch,” Helena offers unhelpfully. I roll my eyes and groan louder. She stares at me with disgust. “I have no idea why coffee-house guy is obsessed with you.” I snort. “Well, he’s been quiet for a while now.” Her head jerks back and she wipes her cheek
with her finger. “Say it, don’t spray it.” I laugh. “I didn’t spit at you, and when did you revert to a ten-year-old?” I raise my hands. “Oh right, I forgot, you’ve always been a ten-year-old.” Helena screws her face up at me and rises to collect our plates, putting them into the dishwasher. “You working tonight?” she asks, and I nod. “You?” “No. I’m not on until Saturday night.” “I’m back on then, too. Can I have my tat done Sunday?” I question. “Sure,” she says distractedly. “You okay, Hel?” I ask. “What? Oh yeah, I’m fine.” “You can talk to me, you know?” Her head turns so I have her eyes and her full attention. “Sorry Liv, I have to fit some time in to go back to see my grandparents as my nan isn’t well.” I stand, and the chair scrapes back against the floor. “What’s wrong with her?” “It’s flu, but you know, she’s old… it’s not great with her being frail...” her words trail off. “You know if you need me to do anything…” I say pulling her into a hug. “Thanks, Liv,” she murmurs into my shoulder as we hold onto each other with a death grip.
Feeling slightly melancholy, I pick one of my rarer song choices Des’ree’s ‘I’m Kissing You.’ I let the words and music flow into my mind until it’s all I know, all I hear. I can almost taste the emotion of the singer. At the end of my striptease, I have no idea what movements I made, but looking down I curse realising my underwear is still in place. I was supposed to remove the bra. As a cheer goes up around the room, I’m shocked to discover there’s zero disappointment at my covered breasts. I’m not sure whether I should take offence or regard it as a compliment. Smiling, I gracefully leave the stage and enter the dressing room. “You killed it without getting your tits out. You’re too good for this place, Olivia,” another dancer, Marianne, tells me with a devilish smile as she heads out of the room to take the stage. It’s only the two of us tonight. Usually, there are at least six girls, but one has a sick kid, two of them coincidentally have the same bug, and Scatty Sarah is running late as usual. I push my iPod into the dock, and All That Remains’ ‘What If I Was Nothing’ fills the small room. Marianne is set to do a triple slot, so I have time to unwind. I slip on my button-up cotton nightshirt and pull off my underwear. I’ll have to choose another outfit for my
next dance, but for right now, I’m going to sit still and close my eyes. “I’m here, sorry!” Sarah shouts running in and out again and scaring me in the process. I roll my eyes but then lay back and close them again, smiling, knowing my break just lengthened. The door clicks again, but I don’t open my eyes. “Forgot something already?” I ask her. “Yes. I forgot to tell you something yesterday.” A deep, masculine voice wraps around my body and brushes against all my nerve endings. I jump up from my chair and twist until my wide eyes meet hooded ones. “Isaac...” I breathe out. “I need to remind you. You belong to me, you don’t get a choice in that, Via, you never did.” I blink. The fingers of my right hand find their way to my left bicep, and I pinch the skin. Hard. “Fuck,” I cry out. He smiles darkly and moves toward me. I take a step back, then another. Isaac’s eyes bore into me. With his lids lowered, I watch as his stare meets mine from under those long lashes. He moves forward again, and I realise my back’s against the wall. One twitch of his lips, and I know he’s noticed there’s nowhere for me to run. My breathing becomes shallow as I struggle to find air. I’ve always wanted him, like this —just like this— and now he’s prowling forward. I’m suspended in a
fight or flight situation, as my knees get weaker by the second. Isaac takes one more step until his body is against mine. I can’t look up to see what his eyes convey. He’s taller than me by several inches, and I purposely keep facing forward, but I’m firmly pressed into his chest. His fingers curl around my chin as he gently raises my head, taking away my choice. Our eyes lock again as he glides his thumb across my bottom lip from one side to the other. “Isaac, we shouldn’t…” I start. “Don’t,” he growls low. “You belong to me.” My breathing hitches and he hears it. Smirking, Isaac leans down and kisses me with a passion I didn’t know could exist between two people. He bites my bottom lip, slipping his thumb into my mouth at the same time, I immediately curl my tongue around it and suck. His eyes blaze before he lowers his head nibbling down the side of my throat until he reaches the apex of my shoulder and neck. Continuing to kiss me there, he pulls his thumb from my mouth and places both his hands on my top, threading his fingers in between the buttons, he rips the front of my nightshirt open. Then his mouth leaves me cold as he steps back. He stands still, staring at me. Something is working behind his usually stoic surface. It seems he makes up his mind before grinning and looking at me with fire in his eyes. “Via, you’re mine. Don’t be confused by any
other guys. There is only me for you. Understand, that’s me telling you. Now, I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll think you’re still a damn virgin.” With those words, he steps forward again grabbing me under my arms. He lifts me into the air holding me above him with a smirk. Moving us toward the table, he lowers me slowly, so I slide down his front. Before my feet hit the floor, he gently pushes me back, so I’m sitting on the table naked apart from my ripped shirt hanging from my arms. “I’m hungry, and the only meal I see on the table is you. Let’s see how sweet you taste. Open your fucking legs,” he demands. The door rattles, and it’s like someone throws a thousand ice lollies at my head. I yank myself away from him cursing and pulling at my ripped shirt. “Olivia!” Sarah shouts from the other side of the door. “She’ll be there in a minute,” Isaac growls and instantly the noise stops. He steps toward me as I grab my joggers and hoodie from my bag and hastily throw them on. “I can’t do this,” I tell him. His eyes are pained, and his fists clench. “We will sort this shit out, Via.” Pulling on my UGG boots and shoving everything else into my bag, I sigh feeling my stomach shrink and expand like it’s pulling in two
different directions. I take a slow step, then another until I’m toe to toe with Isaac. Dropping my head back until I can see his now sad eyes, I find his hand and give it a squeeze. “I loved you.” His fingers pulse at my words. “But you broke me.” I try to tug my hand from his, but he holds on tighter. “I’ll fix what I broke, I swear. If it’s the last thing I do,” he tells me before letting my limp hand fall. I watch as he strides to the door and unlocks it. Brushing past Sarah, her mouth drops open at the sight of him, and I can’t blame her. There is a chill on my skin now. I think I might have just pierced Isaac’s tough exterior.
LIV Four weeks have passed since Isaac’s visit to ShadowBox. I haven’t seen or heard from him, and he’s been noticeably absent from every family gathering. Toby says he’s had to go overseas for work. Who knows what’s true anymore. All I know is in the five weeks it’s been since I found out about my Aunt Libby having cancer, her health has rapidly declined. Today is the worst I’ve seen her. I pull in a shuddering breath and try to temper my emotions. The usually bright eyes and rosy face of my aunt are now sallow and dull. It’s painful to witness. What’s harder is watching her trying to
smile through it. Her strength is within, and every second it shows how much of a fighter she is, but the chemo is leeching the life from her. A quick glance across the room tells me what I already knew—Uncle Dane isn’t coping. His glazed, empty look is even sadder than my aunts. I can almost hear my heart breaking for the both of them. My cousins—Lottie, Max, and James—are downstairs and have been immovable since they found out their mum had stage four lung cancer. We know at this point the chemo is buying her time, but we’re all scared shitless it won’t be enough. The fact is, no matter how long she has, it will never be long enough. “Stop thinking so hard,” Aunt Libby wheezes out to me. Uncle Dane strides across the room placing her oxygen mask over her face and switching on the bottle, so it whirrs to life. “Stop trying to talk, Nova,” he whispers and strokes her cheek, letting his hand tenderly travel into her hair. She reaches up weakly and places her hand over his. A look of adoration passes between them, and my heart breaks a little more. I can feel the tears forming, and I bite down on my tongue, hard enough that the metallic taste of blood quickly floods my mouth. Wincing at the coppery twang and swallowing over and over, I know I’m desperately trying to keep my mind occupied from the reality of what’s in front of
me. However, my mind isn’t ready to rest. “Lawson’s getting a train home tomorrow, he’ll be over to see you,” Aunt Soph tells her, and she offers a crooked smile in return. “Maybe we should go,” she says, glancing at me, then Aunt Libby and finally Uncle Dane who nods in agreement, a thankful expression passes over his face. Sensing Aunt Libby is about to try to talk again, I get there first. “You’re right, Aunt Soph, plus I have to get to the studio. I need a couple of hours,” I tell the room at large. When I look back to Aunt Libby, her eyes are closing as she starts drifting off. We all tread carefully leaving the room trying not to wake her. “She’s getting worse?” Aunt Soph asks Uncle Dane. As he nods, I can’t help but think it’s a pointless question. We can all see she’s fading fast, but I know the words are to fill the void, to say something, anything. “She’s going to die,” the words pop out of my mouth, and my whole body jerks as if in shock from my revelation. “Olivia!” Aunt Soph admonishes me. “No, Tink,” Uncle Dane says, using the nickname he blessed her with years ago. “She’s right. Nova doesn’t have long,” he says dropping down onto the bench in the hallway. “I keep praying she’ll get better, convincing myself we still have a future.”
“Oh, Dane,” Aunt Soph replies on a broken sigh. She seats herself next to him, and I stand awkwardly. “I can’t do this without her,” he murmurs quietly. “Do what?” she asks just as quietly. “Life.” I’ve never heard anyone say one word with more conviction and defeat, than Uncle Dane right then. He’s not a brother, uncle, or father right now. No, he’s just a man losing the love of his life. I take two steps back and hit the hallway table causing keys to clatter to the floor. Both their heads snap my way, and I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Shaking out the weirdness, I smile sadly. “I need to go dance.” “I know,” Aunt Soph says returning my smile. She gets me, the dancing is my release—it will help me channel all the emotions I’m struggling with. I have no right to dump them on anybody else. Everyone is going through a tough time, and Uncle Dane is breaking apart in front of all of our eyes. Rushing to them both, I kneel and lean forward wrapping one arm around each of them. “Love you,” I whisper into my uncle’s ear. He squeezes my arm but says nothing. Pulling back, I can’t help but look in his eyes. They’re empty, hollow, and scary as fuck. “I need to get back to her,” he tells us both. A
mask slides over his face, and he changes in front of us from broken to strong, powerless to capable, and it’s all for Aunt Libby. Both Aunt Soph and I leave calling sad muffled goodbyes to my cousins. Walking silently side by side until we reach the corner of the street, we’re sombre and inwardly thoughtful. “She hasn’t got long.” “You know that for a fact?” I ask my aunt, surprised. She nods. “The doctor told Dane today that they believe a few weeks at most.” Feeling winded I clutch my stomach. “Oh my God.” I panic. “Go, dance. I’ll send Toby.” “No, I’ll be okay on my own today,” I reply. “Has something happened between you two? I mean, you were injured in that toilet, was there more to it?” She props one hand casually on her hip, but the arch of her eyebrow is stern. “No, I wanted to talk to him. The truth is I think he likes Shelly, which doesn’t bode well for his relationship with his brother. I dragged him in there and ended up slipping and hurting myself.” I dilute the truth slightly so she doesn’t get too pissed at her son, a look of understanding washes through her features. “You knew Toby liked Shelly?” I question, amazed, and yet already sure of the answer.
“It isn’t that simple.” Her answer surprises me. “It rarely is, Aunt Soph.” I kiss her cheek and walk in the opposite direction ready to burn the pain away with sweat, music, and movement.
My heart constricts, and I lose my footing, falling on my arse when I walk into the studio and to the door of the room I always use. Scrambling to my feet, I peer through the glass. What I see isn’t a mirage. On the other side of the door is a sweaty, shirtless Isaac. He’s dancing to Justin Timberlake’s ‘My Love.’ The reaction from my body is instinctive as I squeeze my thighs together. Isaac is tall and built, but not in the muscle man, Hulk type of way. Most male dancers are lean. Isaac isn’t. His muscles ripple as he moves, and if you saw him outside of this environment, you wouldn’t naturally think dancer, but fuck, he can dance. I can only assume that five years away hasn’t stopped him moving, caressing the music like he lives inside of it. To me, it looks like he never stopped, he’s as quick, fit, and agile as he always was. I should have known from the other night at the club. Today his movements are different, less sensual and more popping, locking, and street dancing. My biggest turn on is a man who can dance, but
if Isaac couldn’t dance, he would still own every beat in my heart. Even if I haven’t ever told him, he owns all my love, completely. This Isaac reminds me so much of the one who left me behind, while that thought elicits a pain that sears through my body, I can’t seem to control the constant need within or the heat still gathering between my legs. “Sorry.” I hear the rapid apology after feeling the clumsy person walking right into me and setting events in motion which end with me falling through the door and down on my hands and knees. Only this time I’m in the room with Isaac. “Via?” he calls, a frown forming on his brow. His eyes move beyond me and latch onto something. “Sorry again,” a low, rumbling voice offers. I glance backwards over my shoulder and look into the most vibrant topaz eyes I’ve ever seen. “That’s okay,” I whisper and blink rapidly. He smiles crookedly in return, and I’m back to blinking. “I’ve got her,” Isaac injects, and I reluctantly pull my gaze from my beautiful assailant to the beautiful bastard that’s been filling my thoughts, and my heart, since I was a teenager. “Sorry, man, didn’t realise she was yours.” “She is.” “I’m not.” We both answer at the same time, and the beautiful assailant grins down at me, popping a
couple of dimples in the process, making me run right past ogling and straight into swooning territory. “For God’s sake,” Isaac curses under his breath, and I can’t help but giggle, even though I’m still looking into the eyes of this stranger. Isaac captures me under the arm and drags me upward. The door swings shut behind us, and Mr Mysterious winks at me before walking away. “What the fuck was that?” I look up to Isaac and yep—hot guy knocking me over or not—he’s still the only one who can make my clit throb. Beautiful Bastard. “What was what?” I snap. “You and the pretty boy?” he growls. “What was with you telling him I’m yours?” Isaac pulls me to the only chair in the room and sits me in it. “Stop fucking manhandling me!” I shout. With a white-knuckled fist on either arm of my seat, he leans down until our noses are no more than an inch apart. “You are mine. I’ve told you that, not gonna keep saying it, Via.” “Fuck you,” I try to spit out but instead the words are breathy. He smirks and slides his nose along mine and then kisses me softly under the hinge of my jaw. “That can be arranged. Is here good for you, baby?”
My cheeks flush, but not from embarrassment. I’ve had sex in riskier places than the dance studio. I just want to slap myself for the reaction my body so willingly gives to Isaac So-Fuckable James. “You’re conveniently forgetting about Shelly again.” This time my words are spat at him and I internally high-five myself. “We broke up.” His voice is level, and I stare at him for a moment, trying to work out if he has any emotional response to the split. “You broke up?” I question suspiciously. Isaac backs up and stands once again at his full height. Biting down on his lip, I know he’s mulling something over, but the vision sets my body off again. “Was it because of Toby?” I mutter, worried for the answer this time. His jaw works as his eyes pin me to the spot. A scary expression crosses his face as a hard line fixes his jaw in place. “No. We’ve sorted out our shit. There never was a Shelly and me, not really,” he says, confusing me more. “Why don’t you explain ‘shit’ to me? I think I’m owed that much at least, Isaac.” My head drops, and I glance down at my bare feet, which were ready to dance and let everything go. My mind wanders to our family, to Aunt Libby dying, Uncle Dane suffering, my parents, and my cousins. We’re all in pain, and I want so badly to run into his
arms, to let him rescue me. For so many years I’ve been strong, I’ve relied on me—not my parents, not my friends, not Isaac —just me. I’ve had fun. I’ve fucked a lot. I’ve danced and enjoyed my life. But everything has been to display a life of plenty when, in fact, I’ve been shrouding the pain. I’ve disguised my real face, concealed my genuine emotions, and hidden my true pain. I know he can see past all that camouflage. The worst part is, although he sees it, he still won’t give me what I need. Before he even replies, I can see his mind working, pulling an excuse together—one more way to put me off, to hide his reality. Twisted truths, and latent lies, that’s all we share now. “Via, I…” “Don’t bother telling me no. If you can’t tell me the truth, then don’t say anything.” I stop for a second and wait. Blindly hoping he’ll respond, that he won’t stay quiet. For once, I just want him to open up, to trust me enough, to love me enough, so there are no walls between us. Instead, all I’m gifted with is his silence, and it tells me everything I need to know without saying a word. I stand and move away from him not knowing if he’ll try to stop me. I’m hoping like hell he’ll call me back, but at the same time, I’m terrified that if he says my name, I’ll go to him. When I reach the door and realise he’s not stopping me, pain battles
with relief, and it’s hard to know which is easier to manage. I open the door refusing to look back. Then, with a grind of my teeth and a breath drawn in on a pause, unsure why I’m opening myself up further, I tell Isaac something I should have admitted to him a long time ago. “I’ve loved you since I was fourteen,” I say as a tear skates down my nose, reaching my lips before I lick it up with my tongue. “I’ve loved you forever,” his reply is immediate. I walk away this time, wishing I could believe him. As much as it breaks my heart—along with every other part of me—I can’t be sure that anything Isaac has said since he came back into my life is true. The bottom line is—I can’t trust his words, I can’t trust his love, I can’t trust him.
LIV “She’s gone.” The words I’ve been dreading fall from my father’s mouth. It’s been exactly sixteen days since I was chatting with her and Aunt Soph. I didn’t go back for a few days as Uncle Dane didn’t want to overwhelm her with visitors. She was getting so tired and worn out, even though Aunt Libby was seemingly enjoying the company. Then suddenly, she took a turn for the worse. Her health was so poor that she was quarantined, and only my uncle and cousins were permitted to see her. It’s been less than thirty-six hours since the ban was lifted and we were told to say our last goodbyes. I was
visiting this afternoon. Now I’m too late. “You okay, sweetheart?” Snorting at my dad’s words, my stomach flips, and I retch. Wiping the imaginary vomit from my mouth, beads of sweat prickle against my brow. “I’ll be fine, Dad,” I lie. “I can come over.” “No,” I snap out and internally curse myself. “I mean, you need to be with Mum.” My recovery is stilted, my dad knows it, but he ignores my rebuff. “Well, I’m here if you need me. And Livvy, I want you over for dinner tomorrow night.” I open my mouth to argue, but he gets there first. “No arguments. Tomorrow,” he demands. I sigh gently down the line. “All right, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow. Go take care of Mum.” “Always, baby girl. I love you.” “Love you too, Dad, and tell Mum the same.” Hanging up the phone makes me feel empty. I don’t normally feel that way, but loss burdens us all individually and without prejudice. I guess this has served to remind me that my parents aren’t getting any younger. Apart from Lawson, I’m the youngest cousin. I think of my parents as middle aged, but they’re not anymore. Having me so late in life means they’re both in their late sixties now and I have to face up to the fact they won’t always be around. The need to dance is overwhelming, but ever
since I realised Isaac was dancing at the studio, I haven’t set foot inside the building. I’m still slumped against the wall of my bedroom an hour later exactly where I was when my dad called me. My phone sits in my lap, my PJ bottoms have ridden up my calves and I know my hair is a mess. There’s a half empty can of Tango on my sideboard and a pile of clothes in the corner of my room waiting to be washed, but I have no pull to fix anything. Why would I? Nothing I do will make things right. It’s too late. A bitter, twisted truth seated somewhere in my lower stomach says it’s too late for Isaac to fix things now, too. The thing about truths is they always come out, and sometimes we don’t recover from the honesty. Not ever. Throbbing restlessness engulfs my body, and I know, even though I’ve stayed away, I can’t anymore. I need a visit to the studio. I need to dance. Exorcising the pain rippling through me by dancing is all I know, and right now I need it. I need the safety that comes with familiarity.
Ninety minutes pass in a blur of movement and rock music. Three Days Grace, Papa Roach, and a fair amount of angry words later, the sweat drips
from the ends of my hair. I don’t feel much better, but I am more reflective. Acceptance starts swallowing me. To release the feeling, I switch up the music and flip to Selena Gomez’s ‘Nobody.’ My movements hold no more thought than that of the previous dances, but they are slower, engaging the song, and the words have an altogether different meaning. The rage has deflated, and now all this song serves to do is make me take another look at my real feelings for Isaac. I’m forced to acknowledge that nobody will ever ignite me as he can, and nobody will ever measure up in my head to his level of extraordinary. As the song ends, I sink to the floor. Like the last remnants of snow as it melts under the spring sun, everything I am is fading away. “Hi again.” My head whips up as my body starts from the unexpected voice. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Trying to gather the fine strings of composure I’m barely clutching onto, I grab my towel and wipe down my sweaty face, watching the beautiful man who knocked me over the last time I was here. My eyes rake over his face. Yep, it wasn’t a mirage, those eyes are the most vibrant topaz I’ve ever seen, and that crooked smile is accompanied by a couple of dimples. I shake my head in response, but I’m struck speechless. He’s gorgeous—tall and broad, with
dirty blond, slightly shaggy hair. God, that face, with his strong jawline which has a couple of days’ worth of beard growth. It’s like he’s just stepped off the catwalk. “I’m Noah.” He tries to engage me again, holding out his hand. I open and close my mouth before slipping my slick hand into his. I wince when I realise I barely wiped my hands, and he’s gripping onto my sweat. “I’m Liv. Sorry. I’ve just finished nearly two hours in here,” I explain, pulling my hand out of his hold, embarrassment flaming on my cheeks. Noah chuckles. “It’s not like I haven’t touched a sweaty woman before.” I laugh and then snort. Great. “Oh shit, that wasn’t meant to sound like an innuendo,” he says grinning and I smirk back. “You just arrived?” I ask, shaking out my arms. I need to stretch before I cool down completely. “Yeah. I’m heading upstairs. I have room six booked. Will you be here for much longer?” he asks, his stare flicking up to the ceiling where the studio awaits him, then back to me. “I’m done,” I tell him. “Just need to stretch.” “Shit, you should have said, I’ll let you get to that.” I smile, thankful that I don’t need to explain. Noah takes a couple of steps toward the door then turns and looks back to me. “Would you like
to go for coffee sometime, Liv?” I hesitate, I can see he’s about to say something else, but I get there first. “Sure. Tomorrow?” He nods in agreement. “Tomorrow. You want to meet at the Coffee Cottage on the high street at, say… eleven a.m.?” “That’s a…” I stop myself from almost saying date. “Sounds like a plan,” I finish. Noah’s lips twitch sexily before he leaves to go to his studio. I hiss out a breath and sit down ready to reach for my toes. What the fuck is wrong with me? This shit isn’t new—dating, fucking. I’ve done it plenty since Isaac left. Now, suddenly he’s returned, and I’ve reverted back to a young teen at a high school disco again? And it’s not even him who’s asking me out. “Dammit, what is wrong with me?” I mutter to myself. “Via.” My back straightens at the familiar voice. Slowly, I spin around on my bum and face him. Isaac. “What do you want?” My question comes out sharper than I intend, and immediately I feel bad. “Sorry,” I say slouching over and gathering my knees up into my arms. “I wanted to see if you were okay. Mum called me this morning and told me about Aunt Libby. I
figured you’d come here,” he replies softly. My chest warms at his words, but within an instant, guilt washes over me. I feel happy that he knew where I’d be, that he knows me so well, but how can I feel happy when I’ve just lost my aunt? When my whole family is grieving? What’s wrong with me? “What is it?” Isaac demands, his tone sharper now. “Nothing,” I automatically reply. “Bullshit,” he returns, striding over and sitting down next to me. “You don’t want to tell me? Fine. Just let me be here for you.” “Isaac, don’t you think we should talk?” I ask. There is so much that’s been left unsaid, and with my aunt’s passing, it’s brought realisations to the front of my mind, things I was trying to bury, pretending they didn’t matter, and that they never would. I need to acknowledge my feelings and his. We need to talk. That doesn’t mean there will ever be an ‘us.’ If he can’t be honest with me, then there’s nothing to build upon. Trust, for me, is the bottom line in any relationship. “We do. But not now. Let’s focus on getting through the next couple of weeks, and then we’ll talk.” I nod, and Isaac places his arm around my shoulders pulling me into his chest. I forget about stretching as I cry. For my aunt, for my uncle, for
my family, and for me.
LIV Why are my hands sweaty? Ugh. I grab a napkin and wipe my damp palms. I’m sitting in Coffee Cottage waiting for Noah. I’m early by fifteen minutes. Is a fleeting thought still considered fleeting when it keeps coming back around? At least four times since arriving I’ve had to force my body to stay seated rather than making a break for it. Once again I’m blaming Isaac. For some reason since his return, I’m unable to date like a normal woman. I was fine before. I was broken before. I shove the errant thought away as the little bells
over the door jingle, and Noah steps in. His frame almost fills the door. Isaac would fill that door. Shaking my head, I pinch my knee like I’m telling myself off. It’s not going to help, but it’s all I’ve got. “Hey.” He smiles, casually strolling over to me. “You’re early.” “Morning. You too.” I offer a smile back to him. “Coffee?” he asks, then frowns when he realises I have a cappuccino in front of me. I giggle. “No thanks, maybe in a bit?” “Yeah. I’ll just go grab one,” he says smiling again. Damn those dimples. “So, how long have you been waiting?” he asks once he’s got his drink. He sits down and shrugs off his jacket. He’s wearing a navy blue shirt, and I can’t help but think about how the colour would look gorgeous on Isaac. Stop it. Fuck. “Liv?” Damn, I’ve been staring at his chest. “Sorry.” I blush. Why I’m blushing, I have no idea. “I’ve only been here about ten minutes, you’re early too.” “Okay, want to hear a secret?” he asks. I frown. “Not if it’s something that could later lead to my untimely death,” I exaggerate. “Ha, no. I was nervous.” “About what?” “Coming to meet you today.” He surprises me.
“Oh?” Noah shrugs but doesn’t say any more about it. “So, what do you do, you know as a job?” I ask. “I’m a teacher.” “Oh, wow, I never would have guessed,” I answer then bite the corner of my mouth when I realise that sounded rude. “Sorry.” Noah chuckles. “No, it’s fine, people are often surprised. Though I’m not sure why?” He frowns and a cute little line appears between his eyebrows. People are probably surprised because he looks like a model. “What do you teach?” I ask bringing the conversation back to the fore. “Year two kids…” he smiles, “… they’re six and seven-year-olds. They absorb so much at that age, so innocent and keen to learn, that’s not to say you don’t get the little terrors, too,” he tells me, but his smile has widened even more, and it’s clear how much he loves his job. “Saying that, I did go to Uni, got a degree in history.” He winks, and I can’t help but giggle in response. “What about you?” he asks when my giggling subsides. “What about me?” I return. “What’s your job?” I gulp. It’s the question I hate the most. I’m not embarrassed about my job, actually I kind of love it, but it’s the reactions from others I could do without. They’re what cause my stomach to knot
before revealing the truth. Grabbing my cup, I take a sip of my lukewarm drink before grimacing and spitting the cold cappuccino back into the mug. The minute I do it, I remember where I am, and my eyes lift to Noah’s. “Sorry,” I whisper, and he surprises me by erupting with laughter. It’s now or never. “I’m a stripper,” I tell him, and his laughter halts abruptly. “A stripper?” His lips twitch. Okay, that isn’t a bad sign. “Yeah.” “Aren’t you supposed to demand to be called an exotic dancer or something other than stripper?” he asks, obviously hiding his grin. “Well, do you like to be referred to as a mentor for the juvenile?” He bursts into laughter again, and the six or so people in the coffee shop all turn and stare. “Fair point.” He shakes his head, and his laughter dies down. “So tell me a little bit about you.” He sits quietly, listening intently to everything I tell him. Almost like the children he teaches, he’s absorbing all the details I offer him. After explaining about wanting to dance but not being able to get anywhere because of my tattoos, I become quiet. “I’m surprised, in this day and age I would have
thought a lot of people have tattoos.” “Yeah, but most don’t have as many as I do.” I shrug. He scratches the back of his neck, and his eyebrows bunch together in thought. “I love tattoos…” “You have tats?” I ask cutting him off. “No.” He smirks. “I love them on women,” he says eyeing my bare arms, which showcase some of my ink. Moving on quickly before I say something stupid. “So tell me, Noah, what do you like to do?” “Well…” he stretches out his arms and leans back in his chair, “… when I’m not teaching, I dance, obviously.” He winks cheekily at me. “I have a younger sister, and it’s just been us since our parents retired to Spain about ten years ago.” “Do you visit them often?” I ask, and his smile drops. “They died a couple of years ago… both got pneumonia and didn’t take themselves to the hospital.” He doesn’t say any more, but I’m already in a different place. For the last twenty minutes, I’ve been able to forget about Aunt Libby. Most people would have probably offered him their condolences by now, he’s no doubt wondering why I’m sitting here with a face like a slapped arse. “Are you okay?” he asks, and my eyes move from
the stare down with the cafe table to meet his gaze once again. “My aunt died yesterday.” “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry.” He rushes out and reaches across the table placing his hand over mine. “Thanks,” I reply hollowly. “We can cut this short if you want?” he offers, and I can hear his tone is genuine. “No. Truth is, this has given me something else to think about. Does that make me a bad person?” I ask. “Absolutely not,” he states with complete certainty. “We all deal with grief differently, no one way is wrong, as long as it’s not destructive to either ourselves or others.” I watch him, narrowing my eyes and wondering where this hot, kind, school teacher came from. “I’ve been there remember, Liv?” “Thanks,” I croak out. “Anytime. And speaking of anytime, do you want to do this again? You know, when you’re in a better headspace?” he asks. I think about his offer and what it really means. My head is fucked up right now, and it’s only caused in part by my aunt’s death, the rest is because of Isaac. Do I want to bring someone into my world and hurt them unnecessarily? No. I don’t. “I’m not sure…” “Is it because of the guy? The one from the
other day?” he asks me with a small smile. I notice this time it’s soft but sad. I nod, unable and unwilling to lie to him. “There’s history between us,” I reply. “Figured,” his reply is one of defeat. “He’s been… away for a few years, and he’s just appeared back on the scene. I’m not sure where my head’s at, and honestly, no matter what he says, I’m not sure he really knows where his head’s at either,” I explain then groan. “I’m not sure why I’m telling you all this, you don’t want to know about my crappy baggage.” One side of his mouth lifts in a half grin, and he squeezes my fingers. I hadn’t even realised his hand was still covering mine. “How about this? We take it slow, spend time together as friends. Everyone needs more friends, right? No pressure. You can even talk to me about the guy, and I’ll try to help.” “No ulterior motive?” I question dubiously. He laughs and holds one hand up making what I think is a Boy Scout sign. “I promise.” Narrowing my eyes, I can’t help but laugh. “If you can make me laugh when I feel this sad, conflicted, helpless, and broken, then you’re someone I need in my life, Noah…” I realise I don’t know his surname. “Noah Maitland.” “Olivia McKenna.” I hold out my hand, and he clasps my fingers pulling my knuckles to his lips
and touching them with a soft kiss. “Here’s to the start of a beautiful friendship, Olivia McKenna,” he replies. I roll my eyes. “Really?” “What?” He blushes. “It was the best I could come up with.” “We need to work on your cheese level, Noah Maitland.” We both smile and I feel relaxed for the first time in the last few weeks.
ISAAC Movement wakes me and I bolt upright moving straight into a defensive position. I relax when I see Shelly. She knows how to approach me when I’m asleep without getting hurt. “Sorry, your mum called. I think you’re needed.” I nod, scrubbing my hand across my face. Yesterday was hard. I’ve been keeping eyes on Via, and when those eyes reported back that she had met with pretty boy from the dance studio, it wasn’t anger I felt, it was pain. Worse, it was pain laced with fear. I’m not giving up on her, not until she has a ring on her finger and a legal document
taking someone else’s last name. Even then, I’m not sure I’ll stop fighting. “Thanks,” I answer. Shelly nods before leaving. When she does, I get out of bed and stride my naked arse to the en-suite, needing to shower and wake up before calling my mum back. I can’t help acknowledging the morning wood standing strong and proud as I get under the water stream. Groaning, I wrap my palm around my dick and picture Via on her knees with her lips wrapped around me as her moans vibrate along my shaft. With the image of Via at my helm, I release quicker than a teenager watching porn with only a sock covering his dick. My orgasm is hollow though, I feel no satisfaction as I turn the water off.
“Mum,” I say the moment she answers my call. “Isaac.” The pain laced in her tone is fucking hard to hear, but there’s nothing I can do about it. “Shelly said you called, is everything okay?” I question sitting at the window in my room and watching the street distractedly. “We’re… well, we’re as good as can be expected.” I nod, not that she sees me. “It’s your Uncle Dane.”
I sigh. I thought it might be something to do with him. “He’s not coping,” I state. “No. He’s shut himself off. I think he’s drinking, but I’m not sure. We’re not allowed to visit the house.” “Mum, it’s been what? Three days since Aunt Libby died. What exactly is it you expect from him?” I ask rubbing my temple. “Isaac James!” she snaps, and I roll my eyes. Luckily, she can’t see me. “If this was one of us, would he leave us be? Let us wallow in our pain?” Pinching the bridge of my nose, my body submits to her words and my shoulders sag. She’s right, Uncle Dane wouldn’t leave us to wallow alone, he wouldn’t let any of us shut him out, not ever. “What do you need me to do?” I ask. “What do you think? Go around and see him. You’re the one person he can’t keep out. Not physically anyway, and besides, you always had a bond with him, one that not even his kids can understand since, you know, they don’t know about either of you.” “Sure, Mum, I’ll go see him today.” “Thanks, baby boy,” she says and hangs up. I shake my head but smile. I love my mum, but she still sees me as this helpless young kid who needs looking after. Hell, maybe she’s right.
“Uncle Dane,” I announce walking into the dark living room of his house. A pungent smell greets me, but there’s no response from the man himself. He doesn’t even look up to acknowledge me with his eyes. The only reason I know he’s alive is because of the lurching movement as he shoots down the rest of his drink. Scotch, going by the bottle on the coffee table. Yep, definitely scotch, I conclude as he grabs said bottle by its neck and fills the glass again. Rounding the table to face him, I can’t help but stare. It’s been only days since Aunt Libby died, but it’s been a couple of months that she’s been battling with a life-ending illness and that time has taken its toll on my uncle. He’s lost weight and is looking gaunt. His hair is longer than ever, appearing greasy and unkempt. My uncle’s scruffy and worn like a homeless person. His eyes are sunken on his pale face, and if it weren’t for the fact that I know how much my aunt dying has affected him, I would assume he had a terminal illness too, just from his appearance. “Uncle,” I snap, swiping the bottle from his loose grip. His eyes stumble up my large frame until they
reach mine, and I painfully watch as he tries to focus and clear his haze. “Isaac?” he coughs out, a frown appearing on his forehead. “Hey,” I say, softening my voice. Dropping the bottle back on the table, I seat myself in the chair next to his. He struggles to follow my movements, blinking almost continuously. “She’s gone.” His words are spoken raggedly, like a wounded animal. “I know,” I reply sadly. “I c-can’t… t-there…” Fumbling over his thoughts, he stops talking completely as the sobs rise from his throat and spill over onto his broad shoulders causing them to shake. Placing one arm around my uncle, his body sags limply into mine, and I hold him as he silently cries into my shoulder. Uncle Dane is one of the few people who had a role in helping me become the man I am today. He helped me get my job, and he worked with the best. Hell, he was one of the best. This big, strong man who could kill someone with one hand tied behind his back and both eyes closed—even at his age—is currently falling apart in my arms. The despair rolling off him is beginning to choke me, and the harder I grit my teeth and attempt to hold my shit together, the harder the emotion cracks, breaking something inside of me. Twenty-two minutes it takes for Uncle Dane to calm down enough that he
can physically move away from me. There are no words I can say to make this better, so I wait while he pulls his shit together. Wiping his face and swiping the hair from his eyes, Uncle Dane reaches for his glass and refills it before swigging down the whole lot in one go. He hisses through his teeth as no doubt the burn sears his throat. “After I lost Nova the first time, I lived a halflife, a robotic existence that forced me to become cold and calculating. When she came back, she freed me, Isaac. She didn’t make me want to be better, she simply made me better just by being her.” His eyes are wild and far away as he forgoes the glass and takes a swig of Scotch straight from the bottle this time. “The truth is, Isaac, I don’t know how to exist without her, not anymore. And honestly?” He places the bottle down on the coffee table and stares directly into my eyes. They’re clear now—cold, aware, and focused. “I don’t want to.” He gets up, staggering away, then he starts climbing the stairs as I sit having not a fucking clue what to do. Halfway up he stops. “Thanks for coming over, Isaac,” he says leaning over the banister. “You did what you could. But without her, it’s like my heart has been ripped clean out of my body.” Standing, I move to the hallway looking up at
him. Uncle Dane stares back at me earnestly. “I hope you never feel this pain, the only way I can even try to describe it?” I grab the banisters and wait for him to finish. “Imagine if your mum visited you at your home tonight and told you that Liv had died.” With those parting words, he drags himself up the stairs, and I release my grip, clutching my stomach as my mind is assaulted with images of Via dying. I’ve been through a lot in the last five years, but even the pain of being tortured for days doesn’t come close to the agony—which isn’t even justified —that right now is winding me. I finally understand that my uncle can’t cope. It also makes me realise that none of us can do anything for him. He’ll never find peace, not now she’s gone. And I know because I’ll never be at peace without Via.
LIV “That was brutal, are you okay?” Toby asks me, slipping his arm around my shoulders. I nod. Right at this moment I can’t speak. My tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth and I’m battling with my inner emotions so I don’t turn into jelly and sob like a baby. We’re leaving Aunt Libby’s funeral, and Toby is taking me to the wake at Mum and Dad’s house. The funeral itself was beautiful with huge arrangements of white and pink lilies throughout the church. Dad and Aunt Soph both went up to speak, and my cousin Lottie read a poem through a deluge of tears. None of it distracts from the fact
that we’re a tight-knit family, and we’ve lost a key player. My aunt was full of love and light, and now all I see when I look at my Uncle Dane is darkness. It’s sad… and scary. I tried to keep from looking over at Isaac, but the few times my eyes did wander, I found our gazes collided. He was next to Uncle Dane holding him up, trying to be his strength, but his eyes were constantly on me. I’ve been ignoring it all, but I can’t anymore. I need to face this, him, us. Once the sorrow has lessened. One thing I couldn’t help but notice today was the absence of Shelly. I know he said they’d broken up, but he also said there never really was an Isaac and Shelly. Who knows what the real truth is? “Why wasn’t Shelly here?” I ask and feel Toby instantly tense. He shrugs. “I don’t know.” “They’re still together though, right?” I question. He doesn’t know what Isaac told me, and I’m beyond the point of worrying what anyone thinks. Besides, Toby is very aware of my feelings for his brother. He smiles sadly at me. “Yeah, she’s still living with him, so I assume so.” Coldness washes over my skin with the knowledge that Isaac outright lied to me. “Come on, let’s get this day over with,” I tell Toby hurrying toward his car.
“You’re drunk.” “Why do you care for my drunky self wiff my happy brandy?” I mumble incoherently in reply to Isaac’s blindingly obvious declaration. “Come on, I’m taking you home,” he tells me lunging for my glass. Somewhere between him stretching for—and missing—my drink, I become aware of the fact that he’s trying to remove the alcohol from my hand, and I make a snap decision to jerk it away from his outstretched arm. Sticky brandy coats my face, part of my hair, the top of my breasts, there’s even a little on my ear. “I never knewed that glasses had so much alco… a-alco… alpocol in them.” I grin massively at Isaac, then try to extend my tongue to reach my chin so I can lick the drink up. It doesn’t work, and Isaac indulgently smiles back at me. I grab his chin between my thumb and forefinger and pull his face toward mine. “You are scexy… I really want your fingerders to touch my this,” I say rubbing my other hand down my body and his eyes darken with desire. “Let’s just get you to bed.” I open my mouth to speak.
“Alone,” he cuts me off before I can proposition him. I pout as he chuckles in reply. “You taking her home, son?” I hear my Uncle Saul say from behind me, and it’s like a foghorn. “Shhh,” I say spinning around, but I lose my balance and topple. Two strong hands quickly grip me, and I’m easily lifted into the air and his arms. I blink looking up at Isaac’s face. I want to sit on his face. I giggle to myself, and Isaac looks at me raising an eyebrow. “Where’s Toby?” Isaac questions. There’s an edge to his tone. “He left. Have you two still got issues? Neither of you are too big for me to remind you I’m your damn father, and I don’t give a shit about your fucking super abilities, you’re still my son.” “Dad, for fuck sakes, shut up,” Isaac slams back, jostling me around in his arms. “Shit, sorry. Just… are you and Toby okay?” “Yeah, I’m just surprised he left her.” “We are her family, Isaac. It’s not like she’s unsafe without him.” Isaac grunts. My eyes must close because the next thing I know he’s laying me on his bed, and my head feels slightly clearer. “This is your bed.” Isaac strokes his knuckles softly down the side of my face.
“It is.” “I’ve never let you go,” I tell him. “I know,” he whispers. “I need to let you go.” “That’s never going to happen, Via. Now sleep.” I study his face, and although I’m still drunk and a little hazy, there is no denying the love that shines in his eyes.
“Morning, sunshine.” What the hell is going on, and who let wild horses take up residence in my skull? Come on brain, engage, piece together my life… now would be good! The puzzle starts slotting into place. With my eyes still closed the bed dips, and I know Isaac is sitting next to me. I keep the duvet pulled over my face and will the ache in my head to subside. “Take these, it will help.” Isaac tugs the duvet away from me. I’m weak from the hangover, so I have no strength to protest—not that I’d win against him. Blinking and trying to adjust my eyes from the pitch black under the cover to the now semidarkness of the room, Isaac’s smiling face comes into focus. Feeling like I’m about to throw up with
a brass band fighting wrestlers inside my body, I still just want to lean up and kiss him. Morning breath stops me—morning breath—not the fact he has a girlfriend, or that he lied to me. The affirmation of Isaac’s very real relationship slams into me and stings like a bitch. “Where’s Shelly?” I utter huskily. His warm smile slips, and that hurts even more. “How are you feeling?” he replies, totally bypassing my question. “I’m fine.” Automatically the answer comes out, but I take a second to decide it’s not enough. Not anymore. “Answer my question, Isaac,” I demand. He rubs the back of his neck as his eyes glaze over. “Forget it.” I sigh and close my eyes for a second. “I told you we broke up.” I look up at him as his eyes move over my face like he’s committing it to memory. “Well, first, that still doesn’t actually answer my question, and second, I know you’re lying,” I mumble as an ache throbs behind my eyes and I close them again. “Why would you say that I’m lying?” “Toby told me she’s still living here and that you’re still together.” Isaac doesn’t say anything, so I squint and open one eye slightly. It’s enough to see him staring into
the distance as his jaw works. I close my eye again and give him his moment. “There’s a lot to tell you. I promise I’ll be completely honest with you, but I can’t do it all in one go. There is some stuff I might never be able to tell you, but there’s little point in being honest about the rest if you never accept that certain things will have to remain a mystery.” It’s probably the most confusing nonexplanation he’s given me yet. I grind my teeth and yelp when the pressure hurts my head. His big, warm hand cups my cheek, the heat feels good against the pain. Keeping my eyes closed, I tell him what I need. “What I won’t accept as a mystery is Shelly. Why you haven’t spoken to me for so long, or how you really feel about me,” I whisper. I feel his warm breath as his lips kiss each of my eyelids. “Those things I can be completely honest about,” his voice vibrates against my skin. At his words, a few bricks tumble from the wall inside me, and a solitary tear releases a tiny bit of emotion as it slides from my eye and down the side of my face toward my ear. Isaac’s thumb wipes it away, then with all the care in the world, he kisses my mouth. No tongues, just the gentle pressure of our lips before he moves his head back and eases me up carefully from my horizontal position on the bed so he can hold me in
his arms. Finally, I open my eyes again and face reality. “Where is she?” I repeat my earlier question. His body sags against mine. “She’s still here in the house.” I try to pull away, but he holds me tighter. “We were never together… it was all a front, Via. A pretence because of the type of work I’m involved in. Mum, Dad, and Toby know about Shelly, about me, and my work,” he admits, and my mind swims with both questions and confusion. “Via, let’s not do this right now. You have a hangover, and you need to rest. We have a lot to talk about, and it’s not the kind of conversation you have when you’re still feeling crap from the night before.” I nod my reply because although I’m itching to know everything, as well as work out where that leaves Isaac and me, whether we can make a go of something or not, I’m exhausted, and my brain and body still feel like mush. “I wonder how Uncle Dane is?” I mumble, changing the subject. “Probably feels like slitting his wrists,” Isaac responds, and I jerk at his words. He lowers me back down to the bed. “I’m sorry, Via,” he says, seeing the emotion written across my face. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “No, it’s not, baby,” he replies running his finger
across my forehead. It’s almost like he can’t sit there without a part of him touching a part of me. “You have to understand, I saw him the other day, I know how broken he is.” “He loved her so much. She was his whole world,” I reply quietly. His hand stills on my face. “I know how that feels,” he mutters, leaning down, he kisses my forehead. “Get some sleep, baby,” he tells me, then promptly gets up and walks out. Did Isaac James just tell me I’m his whole world? I soak up the moment, whether it’s true or not.
LIV I ran away from Isaac. Well, that’s not entirely true, I didn’t run away. I just told him I needed time, and that wasn’t a lie. With Aunt Libby dying, I needed to spend some time with my parents, and honestly, the little information Isaac has told me so far left my mind reeling. How much more is there? What else is he going to tell me? But… the real reason I took some time? I keep trying to push it from my mind. What if the secret he tells me does makes me see him differently?
I’m scared. Part of me thinks that if he confesses something horrendous, something that would cause my love for him to fade, it would be a bonus. Then I could move on, and I’d be free of my feelings for him. The real me—the one I try to keep locked away, the small part that’s still a teenage girl on the inside —that part is scared of knowing the truth in case it makes me see him differently. I’m not sure I could handle my fantasy being shattered. “How are you feeling?” Helena asks, poking her head around my bedroom door. “I’m okay. Surviving,” I reply with a tight lipped smile. She shuffles in and sits on the side of my bed. “Liv, I’m not sure if this is the right thing to say, especially because I never liked Isaac. Well, I mean I never knew him.” She shrugs. “But from all the things you told me and how sad you always were whenever he was mentioned, I obviously hated him. BFF rules, right?” she says the last sentence with sarcasm in her tone, and I giggle. Helena is probably the least likely person I know to be preppy and use titles such as BFF, even though she is my best friend and hopefully will be forever. “Yes, Hel, BFF rules.” I deadpan arching my eyebrow at her. “Anyway, I digress. As I said, I’m thinking this time you might need to give him a chance. Spend
some time with him, if nothing else he’ll hopefully help you mourn your aunt. Just… guard your heart a little, okay? Be careful.” “Thanks, Hel.” I pull her in for a hug and ponder over her words. I suppose I can’t hide from Isaac forever, but I’m going to take another day. It’s been a week, one more day won’t hurt. “You wanna go to Casper’s tonight?” I ask, propping my pillow behind me and sitting back against the wall. My fingertips tap a rhythm on my thigh, I desperately have the urge to dance. Her smile drops. “I can’t. That’s the other reason I popped in here. I’m taking off for a few days.” I lurch forward. “What’s wrong?” “My nan is still poorly. She’s back in hospital.” “Shit,” I throw out. Helena’s nan has been poorly on and off for a few weeks now. She was in hospital with flu when we had Aunt Libby’s funeral, but she had gotten better and went home a week ago. It seems she wasn’t as well as they thought. “I’m sure she’ll be okay, she’s a tough old bird,” Helena jests, but there’s concern in her voice, too. “I’m here if you need me, I’m just a call away,” I tell her, and she nods. “When are you going?” I ask. “I’m leaving for the station in about twenty minutes. Gramps only called me last night to let me
know, so I got a last-minute ticket. You were already in bed, I didn’t want to wake you,” she explains. “Listen,” I demand grabbing her bicep. “If something like this happens again, you wake me straight away, okay?” Helena smiles then pulls out of my hold with a chuckle. “You’re a nutter, you know that, right? But I love ya, girl,” she says. “Back at ya.” I wink. “Right, I’m going to throw some clothes on then walk to the train station and see you off.” “You don’t have to do that,” she protests. “I know, but I want to.” Helena wrinkles her nose. “No shower?” “Cheeky cow!” I retort with a smirk. “I’m going to the studio after. Once I dance, I’ll have a shower there. Is that okay, mum?” She rolls her eyes at my sass. “Get your arse in gear then.” Helena smiles, jumping off the bed and strolling out of the room. “Do you know how long you’ll be gone?” I ask Helena ten minutes later as we walk toward the station. I’m concerned as her normal small weekend suitcase is noticeably absent, and in its place is a huge—two weeks in Tenerife—suitcase, which only tells me I might lose her for a while. “I don’t know. Allegro has given me an extended leave period from ShadowBox, and Sam
told me he’d keep my chair at Eternal,” she explains, using the nickname for the tattoo shop she owns a chair at Eternal Sin Ink. “I should hope so, you own that chair,” I reply. She doesn’t say anything, just shrugs. I open my mouth to talk about the tattoo that I still haven’t had done yet when I’m interrupted. “Liv.” I hear a deep voice shout from across the street. Helena and I both stop and glance across the road. “Oh, hi, Noah,” I greet the tall sexy man as he crosses over and heads in our direction. Every time I see this guy, I feel like I need to pinch myself because he can’t be real. Nobody looks this filmstar gorgeous in real life. But yep, Noah Maitland, school teacher, dancer, and seemingly all-around nice guy is bloody hot. There’s one thing he doesn’t have, though, one thing Isaac has in spades— danger. There’s an edge to Isaac, a darkness. The guy standing in front of me is all light, and he cannot take his eyes off my best friend. “Noah Maitland, Helena Todd,” I say introducing them. “Hi,” they murmur simultaneously, eyeing each other with very obvious interest pouring off the both of them. “Hel, you’ll miss your train.” I nudge her as the staring continues. “Oh, shit yeah.” She fumbles around in her
pocket and whips out her phone. “Ten minutes until my train. Fuck!” she shouts and starts running, dragging the elephant-sized suitcase behind her. “Bollocks,” I snap and run after her. As we pound the pavement, Noah passes me with ease and pulls her suitcase from her hand. She falters for a second, but I hear him say, “I’ve got this,” like he’s taking a stroll next to her—there’s no panting, huffing, or puffing. I know he dances, so he’s healthy, but I’m fit, too, and even I’m wheezing heavily now. We reach the station and just have time to catch our breaths before Helena’s train comes. I pull her into me for a hug and hold her close. “Love you,” I whisper. “I love you, too.” She pulls back and glances over my shoulder before her eyes come back to me. “Is that the guy you went for coffee with, and is he free?” She grins. “Yes and yes,” I reply. “Keep me posted and put in a good word.” She winks. “Will do. Hug your grandparents for me.” She smiles while nodding and gets onto the train. I wait until it’s left the station and then allow my heart to deflate. She will come back. She will come back. “So…” I start at Noah’s voice. I’d forgotten he was standing next to me. My heart does a river dance in
my chest from both the running and the fright he gave me. “So,” I echo his word. “You like my friend?” I question, arching my eyebrow and trying not to laugh. His eyes widen. “I know we went for coffee, but I, well—” I cut him off with a giggle. “It’s okay. God, I can’t watch you try to explain yourself. You’re a good guy, Noah, you know that?” I need a bad one, I can’t help but think. “I think she liked you, too,” I tell him, and his face lights up. “What can I say, I have a thing for tats,” he tells me shyly. “You want her number?” I ask. “Yeah, if you don’t think she’ll mind?” “I don’t think she’ll mind,” I reply. We both turn and walk out of the train station. “Where are you going?” I ask him. “To the dance studio, you?” “Same,” I reply. We walk side by side, both quiet. It’s sedate, the quiet is comfortable and easy with him. “You want to dance with me?” he asks when we’re only a few minutes away from our joint destination. I almost trip over at his words, and Noah quickly catches me. “You don’t have to.” He chuckles quietly.
“No, it’s not that. Sorry.” I sigh hauling myself out of his arms. “It’s just, you surprised me.” He smiles, and we continue walking side by side. “What type of dancing do you do?” I ask. He turns to me as we stroll along. “Most styles. Jazz, latin, contemporary, swing, street. I’m partial to ballroom, though.” I nod as we round the corner. “Meet you in room four in five minutes?” I ask. “Sounds good,” Noah replies before heading for the men’s changing rooms. I enter the women’s locker room and go directly to locker thirty-eight. It’s my own personal space, so I always keep two spare sets of dance clothes and towels inside in case I decide on an impromptu session. I change my attire and grab the stilettos. I look in the mirror. “Ready to dance,” I tell myself. “So how about a tango?” I ask Noah as I walk into the studio. He lifts his head from digging in his bag and seems to mull it over for a moment. “It’s been years since I’ve tangoed. I might be a little rusty, but I’m game if you are?” he offers, and I can’t stop the huge grin which spreads across my face. I love this dance, but I don’t dance it. Not with anyone, not even Toby. I always wanted to dance it with Isaac, but we never did. I know he’s been taught how to tango, just like I have. But for fun? Yeah, I can’t speak for Isaac, but this will be the
first time I’ve danced it for fun. It’s a masterful sexual dance. At least that’s how I feel about it. In my heart, I know Isaac should be my partner, and I’m not sure if my offer to dance it with Noah is because there’s a small part of me that wants to rebel against my own need. “Shall we?” Noah asks and takes his stance in the centre of the floor holding out his hand to me. Gotan Project’s ‘Santa Maria’ sparks to life over the speaker system, and I step up to my partner. We dance the tango, and it’s… fine. We move correctly, enjoy the music and repeat the same dance to different songs practicing until our movements are perfect, but it lacks... passion. There’s nothing beyond some choreographed shapes measured to the beat of someone else’s song. As much as I appreciate stretching my legs and trying something new with Noah, this just isn’t how I dance. I like to claim the music as mine, feel it to my bones. Today, the only thing I feel is downhearted. “Shoot, it’s nearly one. I need to get to my sister’s,” Noah says, collecting his things and hastily shoving them into his bag. “No worries, I’m just going to cool down,” I tell him grabbing my towel and wiping the back of my neck. I stretch and take a second to think about what I’m doing. It’s Monday, that means no classes
are due until six p.m. I checked the register in the office before I came into the studio, and none of the other rooms are booked. I have the whole place to myself for hours. “Gotta go,” Noah shouts running toward the door. “Shit,” he spits running back to me. “I forgot to give you my number.” “Huh?” I question. “So you can text me Helena’s number,” he tells me, his cheeks pinking slightly. Yep, totally a good guy. “Also, I’d like to think we’re friends now, right?” he says nonchalantly, but there’s an undertone of uncertainty. “Of course,” I reply, pulling out my phone. “Hit me with your number and I’ll text you tonight,” I tell him. He reels off the details, and I add them to my phone before he rushes away. I stretch for about five minutes and am just getting ready to take off my shoes and choose a new song and dance when the silence in the room is shattered. “Finally. I thought he’d never leave.” Isaac’s deep voice throbs through my whole body, and just like that, I’m alive and buzzing. “Y-you were watching us?” I have no idea why my words come out as a stammer, only that this man always leaves me breathless. “Pretty boy can dance.”
“Noah,” I snap. “Whatever. He can dance, but it’s all technical. There’s no passion, no emotion,” Isaac airs the same thought’s I’d had as he walks over to the stereo and fiddles with the music. “I suppose you’re so different?” I ask. “Baby, you know I am,” he retaliates striding over to me. Placing his palm on my lower back, Isaac slams my body into his. “Now we’re going to do this right.” “Do what?” I breathe. “Tango,” he says, and the music starts. Once again, ‘Santa Maria’ plays, but this time I know it’s going to be different. I can already feel the fraught tension between us, and as Isaac pulls me tighter, I realise this isn’t just a tango. With Noah and I there was space between our bodies, but this is Isaac’s version, and much like the Argentine Tango, we’re chest to chest. He moves me around the floor, both physically and with his aura, which fills the room. I’m a slave to him, to the music, and it infuses every modicum of my being. More than once our chins and the tips of our noses meet at exactly the same time, meaning our lips are mere millimetres apart. It’s frustrating and sexy as fucking hell. As his legs move and his body grinds against mine with almost every movement, I’m helpless. I’m his. Looking into his eyes, I see darkness, danger,
love, and lust. Yeah, Isaac James is not, and never has been, a good boy. Once the song finishes, I pull away and rush to the office. I need to… I have no fucking clue what I need. Every inch of my skin tingles, and as I stop and lean over the desk, I squeeze my legs together desperately trying to control the aching in my core. “Don’t keep running, Via. This only ends one way,” he promises. “And that would be?” I rasp. “With you, admitting you’re mine. Submit to your feelings, you know you want to.” He’s cocky now, but I can clearly hear the want behind his words. His body presses against my back and a shiver runs through me. I twist my head and neck around until my eyes are locked with his. “What are you doing?” I ask, my voice betraying the need I’m trying—and failing—to keep locked up. “I made a mistake, Via. I went against my own nature and was waiting for you to realise you belong to me. I’ve changed my mind, your time’s up, now I’m claiming you. The decision isn’t yours anymore. I can read your body baby, and it agrees with me.” His breath tickles my neck as he speaks and my skin pebbles. “I’ll still explain everything to you in time, I promise. But for right now, I need to
make sure your body remembers it’s mine and when you’re ready, your head can catch up.” Isaac wraps my hair around his fist and pulls my head back running his nose from my collarbone up to my jawline. “Don’t think I’ve gone soft... but I missed your long hair, Via.” I close my eyes and steady my short, shuddering breaths, trying to calm my chest from the jerky movements I display every time he’s near. “Missing my long hair would make me think you’ve gone soft… how?” I almost pant with need as I continue to press my legs together. “Sweet talk and soft voices often give women ideas. I know you, Via, I don’t want you to get the notion this will be gentle. We have time for that, but right now I’m not that guy. In about twenty seconds, you’re going to be bent over this table, and I’m going to fuck you like a savage who hasn’t had pussy for years.” I gasp, my mouth dropping open. “Why? You’ve had pussy recently,” I state, sure of my statement. “Not yours,” he snaps back at me, his hot breath like a shot into my ear. “Isaac?” My emotions are warring. I feel like an animal in heat ready for him, and I so desperately want him between my thighs right now. But at the same time, I know he’s always held my heart in a vice and depending on his words, he could loosen the hold, allowing it to beat once more… or he
could strangle what little life it has left. I’ve avoided him, but I knew it would come to this. I knew. “I could have a million women, but they’d never be you.” Although his words are affectionate, his tone’s sharp, exposing his need for me. As his hand travels down my ribs, his fingertips hit my hipbone before slipping into my knickers and finding my centre wet and waiting. I know the need I have for him is stronger, so much stronger than the little control I’m desperately holding onto, a control I’m barely able to maintain over my body whenever Isaac James is around. He’s always been the one leading, and I’ve always followed him anywhere he’s asked. This man, even when he was a boy, could command everything and everyone. I never stood a chance back then, and I still don’t now, no matter how hard I try. Each time he left while he was in the Army, I convinced myself I could walk away from him. That when he returned, I’d be more in control, that I would find someone else and move on with my life. Then all my grand ideas washed away like old bath water every time he came home. My heart has always belonged to him, and it seems my body does, too. With his fingers still inside me, Isaac slips his other arm across my breasts and lifts me, taking two steps until we’re standing facing the desk
lengthways. With one hand, he lifts my arms up and pulls my top off, then shifts my body forward while pulling his fingers from my folds. Instantly I feel the loss. His hand moves away from my breasts and journeys around to my back pushing me over the table until my front is flush against the cold surface. Isaac runs both thumbs along my spine. “Such a beautiful body,” he murmurs pulling my loose dance skirt down my legs along with my knickers. Without thinking, I kick away the clothes now at my feet keeping my stilettos on. His hands are like reflections of each other as they run up the backs of my legs until he palms both my arse cheeks. “This is going to be hard. I need to fuck you right now, Via. That need is the only thing I can feel, I can’t promise to be gentle.” “Isaac…” His name comes out in a whimper as I hear rustling, he must be pulling his joggers and tshirt off. “Brace yourself,” he warns. Even with his warning, I still convulse with surprise as he lifts my legs off the floor. “Stretch your arms apart and grip the sides of the table,” he demands. I do as he says, my breasts squashing against the desk. His hands once again move up my legs until he’s clutching my thighs. He stretches my legs apart, and I hear a low groan rumble from him. “Fuck,” he growls.
I’m still thinking of his last word when I feel the tip of him nudging me apart. He hasn’t even entered me yet and still, I can’t help but close my eyes, biting my bottom lip with arousal. Excruciatingly slowly Isaac pushes inside me, filling me as I adjust to him. It’s almost magical. I’ve had lots of sex, but I’ve never had sex in this way. The position opens up a whole world of new feelings, and as he seats himself inside me fully, I want him to stay there forever. Filling me, fucking me, owning me… loving me. Isaac has no constant rhythm. He’s slow, then fast, hard then soft—it’s delicious. Every movement Isaac makes feels precise like it’s been selected especially for me, to accomplish a never ending frenzy of sensations with pleasure leading my ecstasy. Circling his hips, his dick hits just the right spot. At the same time, he leans over me and bites down on my shoulder. I explode. I can feel myself pulsing around him. Isaac moves back pulling my hair out of the way and kissing along my neck and down my spine. I thought he was fucking me hard before, but as soon as my clit stops vibrating, Isaac steps up a level and slams into me. I can hear our bodies slapping against each other and something that has never happened to me before finally happens. I come again at the same time he roars out his release but he doesn’t stop moving inside me.
The minutes rush by and my body falls deliciously limp. Isaac leans forward fitting his body to mine and whispers in my ear, “Your body knows I’m in love with you, but do you know it, too, Via?” His body is still attached to mine, and my heart is still attached to his. “Yes. I know it, Isaac.” “Fucking finally.” He breathes in my ear.
ISAAC “One more job.” My shoulders tense as Doreen studies me. This is the first time I’ve seen her since our last assignment was completed. She knows what I want. I’m just not sure my handler wants the same thing as I do. “I said I wanted out. What part of that statement was confusing for you? Did I stutter?” I growl as my annoyance bubbles to the surface. She grins. “Well, well, there is emotion inside of you, something other than a cold, calculating—” “Don’t finish that fucking sentence.” I tilt my head from one side to the other, clicking
my neck and trying to release the tension that’s slithering like a vine through my muscles. I know what I am, but I also know what I want to be, and nobody is going to fuck with my forever. If they do, I’ll have to cut them off at the knees. I’ve been what they needed me to be for so long sometimes having to live in the gutter with the dregs of society. You don’t get clean by rolling around in more dirt. I might always be filth, but I crave the purity that only Via can give me. She’s unpolluted, wholesome, and I’m worried I’ll end up contaminating her. It’s one of the reasons I left in the first place, why I’ve stayed away again. Now, it’s too late, chasing her has brought me what I wanted. I know I should have waited until I was completely out. I didn’t, and it was a selfish choice. I just hope like fuck it doesn’t spell her demise. There are a lot of things I can deal with, much more than most. Losing Via in any permanent way isn’t one of those things. “Fine,” I concede. Doreen smirks, and my fingers twitch with the need to shoot her in the head. Leaning toward me, she passes me a flash drive. “Everything is on there. Encrypted, of course, but you have the means to retrieve the information you require. Shelly will be in play this time, too. In fact, your whole team will be needed.” I say nothing. If the whole team’s in play, it means this is a bigger op than I was hoping. I’m not
sure who I’m trying to kid. If she needs me to lead it, then it’s not going to be a small op. She has plenty of junior agents for those. I remain silent as Doreen stands moving toward the door. Before slipping through, she turns to me. “I know you want out. It’s been granted. Paperwork is signed and sitting in your classified email account, but it had to be after this last job. Sorry, Kane, that’s just the way it goes.” I want to growl Isaac at her, remind her of my real name, but there’s no point anymore. Even if I weren’t in the process of getting out, I’m not sure who I am these days. I certainly seem to be failing at keeping the two identities separate. There’s a blurred line where Kane stops and Isaac begins, and I’m starting to wonder if I’ve always survived as both of them. Now, I have to try and shed Kane to be Isaac, and if I can’t, then I’ll need to find a way to live in tandem with both my personalities. The minute I hear her chauffeured car drive away, I pull out my phone and text my team telling them they need to be at my house in one hour. “Shit.” Shelly is the first one to speak after we open and upload the documents to dissect the newest assignment. “More like, fuck me,” Darwin mutters. “You know what this means?” I question them, and they all nod knowingly. Shelly is the only woman on our team, and because we can’t have
any identifying marks, her skin remains untainted, she’s also young enough to be our bait. Once again, the innocent look she has going on will be the lynchpin to securing our success, but it’s dangerous, like always. “How are we going to get their attention?” she asks. Dropping my head back against the wall, I close my eyes and think over the intel I already have. It’s not as much as I’d like, but it’s all we’ve got to work with, and it says the gang we’re going after will be carrying out their business in eight days. After that, they’ll move into another area closing down their current operation. They don’t need to remain in one place as sex sells wherever you are, and they’ll want to ravage another big city so they can kidnap a new selection of young women. The only way their business survives is with a constant stable of girls. The sex traffic trade has a quick turnover, and unfortunately, these days there are so many people forming new alliances that we can’t take them down quick enough before another one has emerged. “Victor, Clint. I want you to go out tonight, hit up all your known contacts and try to find out as much as you can.” With a nod, they immediately move out the house. “Dean, Brand. Go to the dive bars, see if you can find some underground fights. See who’s
whispering and find out any plays or plans, especially those in flight.” Just like the first two, they nod and exit hastily to carry out my orders. “What are you thinking?” Arlo questions and my head snaps up. He doesn’t speak very often. “I’m thinking we have no fucking time, not enough intel, and this is one we can’t fucking lose. We need to bring these motherfuckers down. This time, there’s no second option,” I tell him, and he smirks darkly. My gaze moves to Shelly. “What?” she snaps folding her arms across her chest. “I know that look, and whatever you’re going to say, I’m not going to like it, am I?” Dragging the palms of both hands up my face, I continue right over the top of my skull, running my fingers through my hair, only pausing to thread them together at the back of my neck. Then, I tell her what I need. “Get to the hairdressers and the beauty shop. Do your nails and hair and whatever it is that women do to make themselves soft and feminine.” Her eyes narrow, and her mouth opens, but I don’t let her say anything, not yet. “Go buy some new clothes. Everything has to be girly, innocent. So no bright red or black nail varnish. Instead, think light pink, sundresses, and minimal makeup. And buy a necklace… a cross.” “What the fuck, Isaac!” she yells, and although I want to laugh, especially when I see King and
Darwin grinning, Arlo’s lips definitely twitch, I manage to remain stoic. “You need to seem younger, innocent, delicate… virgin like. I can’t help the fucked-up people who are out there or the fact that we have been saddled with this assignment. Roll with it, Shel,” I order. I can see her jaw working, but she just nods and storms out. My eyes move from the door when I hear her leave the house and rest intently on Arlo, then King. “You two will protect her. Never let her out of your sight, starting now.” I point to the floor. “You don’t let them touch her. Nothing else matters to you except keeping Shelly safe and alive.” They move out, and we all know how dangerous this will be for Shelly. They have probably been given the most important job, and they’ll die for her if they have to. “So what about us?” Darwin asks. I’m looking at the floor, but I tilt my head so our eyes meet. “Are you a praying man, Darwin?” He chuckles, and I shake my head with a smile. I hope after all is said and done, we can still smile. I also wonder how the fuck I’m supposed to move forward with Via while this shit is swirling around me. “What are you thinking about?” he asks, coming to sit at the dining table opposite me. I glance up at him before grabbing the bottle of
vodka on the table and pouring a shot. Slamming it down the back of my throat, Darwin wisely doesn’t comment even after I throw a second shot down. I hiss as the alcohol burns through my chest. “I don’t know if I can keep her safe.” “Shelly? She’s a fully trained killing machine—” I cut him off. “No, Olivia.” There’s a sudden silence, the intensity of the moment is thick as we’re swallowed by our thoughts. Darwin lost his sister. The cause of her death was indirectly linked to the life we lead. This life burns us or the ones we love at some point. Darwin was considering joining Black Ops, but his sister’s safety was holding him back. He was all she had. His connection to his first handler, Jenson, meant he was being watched. Nobody told him to be vigilant, even when it was just an option and not a firm decision. She was killed the day he signed his life away—run down at a zebra crossing by a drunk driver. However, we knew better. We always know better. The look in his eyes as our stares collide tells me all I need to know. I shouldn’t have ever started up again with Via, but now I have, I don’t know if I can let her go again. “I’m fucked,” I complain. “Yep,” is all he offers in return.
LIV “He’s disappeared.” “What do you mean, disappeared?” “Not in the literal sense,” I answer, glaring at myself in the mirror. Dragging my fingers through my hair and following the movement with my eyes, I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and bite down harder than my nerves can stand. As the tears spring free, I stare at my reflection, knowing the only dipshit I’m trying to kid is myself. The emotion is a direct result of my pain, but not the pain currently caused by the trickle of blood that’s blossomed from my broken skin.
“I don’t understand. I thought you reconnected? I thought he admitted his feelings? That you both did.” My finger hovers over the round red button on my iPhone. I tremble, fighting the need to cut Helena off. I don’t want to talk about this… I need to talk about it… but I don’t want to. “Liv?” Her voice booms out of the loudspeaker and bounces around the silent room. “Liv, don’t you dare cut me off!” My body hangs limply from the chair as I lean back, and the tension slowly discharges from my limbs. Permitting a small grin, I’m relieved my friend knows me well enough to call me on my bullshit and pull me out of my own head even if it is from miles away. “Liv?” She’s on the verge of a meltdown now. “I’m here.” The steady strength my voice usually exudes is sorely lacking as verbal sawdust trickles out instead. “You may be there, but you’re not okay, are you?” I sigh. “No. I’m not okay, but I will be… I swear.” “Liv, remember who you’re talking to. I know how you feel about him. Tell me he hasn’t broken you?” I swipe the small line of blood that has travelled down my chin. Hissing when my thumb makes
contact with my torn lip. “Hel, I appreciate your concern. Honestly. The truth is, I don’t know where he is, all I got was a quick phone call. Apparently, he had to go away for a while.” I shrug at myself in the mirror, not sure who I’m explaining Isaac’s actions to. “He said it was for work and he didn’t know how long he’d be gone.” “What about the two of you?” she demands without hesitation. “I don’t know.” “Olivia.” Helena’s voice is low and serious. “You must have asked how long? Where he was going? What that meant for the two of you?” She fires the questions, becoming more enraged with each one. Picking at the blue paint on my nails, my eyes flick to the phone then back to my nails. “I asked. He didn’t know.” “He didn’t fucking know?” she screeches. Moving around the fifty or so bottles of nail varnish on my dresser, I find my favourite red while smiling at her reaction. I’m due at work in two hours. I want to repaint my nails, and I have to get ready, so this phone call needs to wrap up. “Hel, calm down.” I can hear her huff, and I nibble on the inside of my mouth so I don’t giggle at her. “He said it was related to work, that he had something he couldn’t get out of, but he has no idea how long
it will take.” “Well, how fucking long can whatever he does take?” I pinch the top of my nose and close my eyes. “He said it could be a week, a month, or could be six, he doesn’t know.” Before she gets a chance to interrupt me, I continue wanting to get this over with now. “He told me he doesn’t expect me to wait for him.” “He what? That… fuck me,” Hel whispers. “Yeah. I’m not sure exactly what I’m supposed to make of that tidbit. I almost wish he’d asked me to wait, but he didn’t.” “Bastard,” she seethes. “Look, can we talk about something else? How’s your nan?” I change the subject, not giving her time to argue. “She’s doing really well now, she’s much better.” My chest eases a little at Hel’s news. “That’s great.” “Yeah. It means I’ll be back in the next few days. We can have a movie night with ice-cream and cake and alcohol.” I chuckle at her suggestion, but she knows I’ll be totally down for a girly night in. “How’s things going with Noah?” I question, and she squeals. My tattooed, angry, practically emo friend squeals. What the fuck?
“He was texting me, and we were messaging a lot. Then we started talking on the phone. God, Liv, I only met him a few days ago, but I feel like I’ve known him for ages. We’re going out when I get back.” I smile at my phone. “I’m really pleased for you.” “Me too, but he’s so… clean.” I snort out a laugh at Helena’s disgust with Noah’s lack of tattoos. “That just means you could give him his first, leave your mark.” Helena hums down the line. “Wow, I never thought of that,” she replies almost dreamily. “Right, I gotta go get ready for work. I’ll speak to you later, babe.” “Later, Liv.” Turning, I press the remote for my iPod dock. Lady Gaga’s ‘A Million Reasons,’ blasts to life, and I finally release my bottled-up tears. I want to say Isaac hasn’t broken me again, that I’m not crushed, but I don’t even know what’s happening—if anything—between us now. All I know is my heart aches, and hope is an evil emotion.
Bright red fingernails match my lipstick. I add
another layer to my mascara and the black winged eyeliner and double check my outfit. Most nights I have underwear on, covered by some novelty clothing… well, usually. Tonight, though, I’ve got a long, skin-tight red dress. It leaves nothing to the imagination, and apart from my five-inch red stilettos, the only piece of clothing I’m wearing is a sheer red thong. I’m going all out. A tiny voice in my head says I’m rebelling. I know Isaac hates me working here, but by wearing so little, I’m sending him a big fuck you—that would work better if he actually knew. But I’m ignoring my innermost thoughts right now. Instead, I’m striding out and sticking two fingers up to everyone, Isaac included. I like to be different, I always have. Stripping for me is just another way I can show my personality. While the other strippers choose fast, sexy songs, I like to think outside the box—mostly. So, ready to sashay onto the stage, I nod over to Allegro, giving her the signal to start the song I picked today. I breathe out. Placing one foot in front of the other, I slowly ease onto the stage as Aretha Franklin croons ‘Ain’t No Way.’ The spotlight finds me as I stand at the mic pretending to sing— miming for the act. I can’t see the audience tonight, not with the light in my face, but I don’t need to, this act is solely for me. They have no idea I could sing this live if I chose to, and I wouldn’t suck either. But, as every word leaves my mouth—not
silent, but still unheard over the original—Isaac consumes my thoughts. I feel torn apart, ravaged, cut down, like there’s a piece missing from my soul. I sway sexily at the beginning of the song running my hands up and down my body with the words, holding my wrists together above me trying to fall in line with the lyrics. I wait for the chorus to end, then start bending over, running my hands down my legs. I grip onto the hem of my dress and slowly pull it up my body and over my head, revealing myself. I sing the last verse—how I can’t love him if he won’t let me—with tears running down my face and nothing but heels and a thong on. There is a roar of applause when the song finishes, enough to make me almost lose my balance. Carefully spinning around, I stride off wishing that Isaac could have heard that song, listened to the lyrics, and felt my pain.
ISAAC If someone attacked me now they’d win. There is little doubt in my mind. My body is frozen. Painfully so. I stepped away, explained that I needed to work
on something, that I had no choice. If I didn’t do what they asked, I’d never be let out of my contract. I might be physically close—now we’re both in London—but I need to keep my distance so she’s not thrown under the bus, especially with the current assignment. I tried to ease her hurt as much as possible. I said I’d find her when I was able, but I couldn’t say when that would be. Easing the fists my hands have made, I throw back the whiskey I ordered and stand to leave. It was a mistake to come here, to watch Via on stage again. I hate that she works here. I have no right to demand anything from her. She’s mine, but even so, I should have stayed away. I’m not sure what I was expecting. I guess a song, stripping, and seeing men gawking at her fucking beautiful body. What I got was a knife straight through my heart. Watching her singing that song, I know she wasn’t miming. I know she was feeling every word. The torment was like a storyboard across her face, every telltale look —I’ve never forgotten a single one—played out in her eyes. Pulling myself from my thoughts, I start to walk toward the exit. A flash of red catches my eye, and I stop to look across the room. Via leans over the bar and talks to the barmaid who passes her a bottle of water. She turns and starts manoeuvring backstage when some prick grabs her wrist and pulls her back. My feet move before my brain has
engaged, and as I get closer, I can see him mauling her tit. My brain switches off. Every sane thought is lost in the haze of anger, and every little thing I’ve ever been taught about keeping calm and managing a situation dissipates like smoke. Thankfully, before I get there, Via has wrenched her arm from his grasp and slipped away. I can still see him though, and I can tell what he’s thinking. Glancing around to make sure there are no bouncers, he slips along the passageway after Via. Moving faster, I catch up to him, and his yelp of surprise is the only thing that escapes before I pin him to the wall, my finger and thumb at his throat either side of his windpipe. He can’t speak, he can’t breathe. I watch as his lips start turning blue, and he scratches at my hand. “You don’t look at her, you don’t get anywhere near her, you don’t breathe the same air as her. You certainly don’t fucking touch her. Give me an indication you understand me,” I grind out, malice lacing my every word. His eyes widen, almost like they’re bulging out of his head, but there’s no way I’ll let go until I know he comprehends my threat. Tears form in his eyes spilling over and racing down his cheeks. There’s a tiny movement, one that most wouldn’t notice, but being that I have him pinned, I am watching for it. I grin and release my grip. He falls to the floor and immediately covers his throat with
both his hands. I know he can’t speak, but that works for me as I crouch down next to him. “If you ignore my warning, I’ll come back. Next time I won’t be so lenient. Are we clear?” I ask still sporting a small grin. He looks up at me, his face red, still holding his throat as tears continue rushing from his eyes, but he nods fervently. “Good to see you’re being amenable, that works in your favour. Now get up and go, don’t stop for your friends, don’t stop to grab your coat, don’t stop even if someone calls you. Leave. Never come back and never go near her again.” I watch as he scrambles to his feet and practically runs away. Closing my eyes, I breathe in through my nose. I need to get over the satisfaction of what shit like this does for me. The darkness is still in me, and Via doesn’t need that. She needs better than me. Cleaner than me. I remember the sadness in her eyes from earlier. I put that devastation there. And right now, I can’t deal with it on top of my own agony. So, like a coward, I’m walking away to deal with my current life, but this fucking time, I’ll come back when it’s over.
ISAAC “Where have you been?” “Out,” I force the word through my teeth. As team commander, I don’t need to explain myself, but as their friend, I should. Unfortunately, I can’t find it in me right now to think straight and telling them that I’ve been going to ShadowBox to watch Via for the last few nights won’t go down well. “Go catch some sleep. We need to be up soon, and we need to be fresh. They can’t get the jump on us because we’re sloppy and tired,” Darwin tells everyone. Nodding, they all disperse except Shelly who stays where she is. Darwin glares at her, and she
arches her eyebrow back but makes no move to leave. I chuckle, shaking my head, and Shelly’s eyes snap to me. “What?” She shrugs. “At this point, with the number of missions we’ve completed as a team, especially where you and I have been a couple…” Shelly’s hands come up, making air quotes with her fingers. “I know you just as well as Darwin, I’m worried about you… and her.” Her gaze drops from mine, and I sigh. “We all need to stay focused on this mission,” I reply. “Isaac—” “No. All of us, Shel, that means me, too.” Darwin looks from me to her and back again and then scrubs his hand down his face. “Shit. I have a bad feeling.” I grind my teeth together. There’s nothing more to say. “We have four hours. Go. Sleep. We need to be on our game tonight,” I tell them both. After they leave, I grab my laptop and open social media. I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I can access—or hack—all forms of social media and have accounts under many names. However, before I left for the Army all those years ago, I had a Twitter account which belonged to me, the real me —Isaac James. Although I never post, my family,
my friends… Via, they all believe I never use it. The truth is, I monitor their lives. When I can’t be near, when I want to cling to home to feel close to them, that’s when I log in. I could hack into their personal accounts, but I feel like that would be a step too far, and I need to draw the line somewhere for my own sanity. Where Via’s concerned, though, it seems I like to torture myself by reading what she’s been up to over the years, knowing when she’s dating or having fun, living life without me in it. Still, I can’t seem to stop, even now. Opening her Twitter page is just another stab in my heart. Her status makes me grab my phone. I hold it in my hand and will myself not to call or text her before slowly placing it back down. Olivia McKenna @Via_McKenna - Pain is the only feeling you can ever really trust. I read and re-read her tweet, as though if I stare at it long enough, it will change. I’m just about to log out, to give myself a break when I spot another tweet from her. @NoahMaitland - Saturday works. And then she’s put a damn wink emoji. What the fuck? Who was she replying to?
I click on his name as the profile photo—some sea view bullshit which tells me nothing. The moment it opens up, I read the account information, then scroll down to his tweet to my Via. I relax, realising it’s the guy from the dance studio. @Via_McKenna – Wanna dance again? Clicking my neck from side to side, I’m glad when the tension eases. Not only does the most recent information I’ve gathered tell me that Noah Maitland is interested and actively pursuing Via’s friend and roommate, Helena, I also watched them dance last week. There was no fire, no passion. Via likes him, but it’s purely platonic. If I ever see her dancing passionately with another guy, then I’ll be concerned. Even so, I should be her partner. It’s what I want, it’s what she wants, but it’s not what she needs. I’m not what she needs. Not yet. But I will be. I log off and pull out the notes for the current mission. It’s just after nine p.m. now, and I should be getting my four hours of sleep too, but I can’t seem to stop my brain from running at a million miles an hour. We need to be at Crimson, a small dive club in the centre of London, by one a.m. I’ve studied the trend of this ring as much as I can. They seem to
always arrive at their chosen spot around one thirty in the morning, waiting for a few hours sourcing and watching the girls. My understanding is that they pick out roughly ten girls, but take just two or three. They hang around until four in the morning waiting for the most sober people to leave and then choose from the girls who remain. It seems it’s easier to collect their packages when the world that surrounds them is drug infused or drink addled. I don’t want to put Shelly in that position, but I have no choice. She knows that, it’s her job. No matter what I say, the fact is I’ve become attached to my team, and with the work we do, it’s both a benefit and a curse.
“They’ve arrived.” “You’re sure?” “Affirmative, it’s them. Only three from the sixman team we tracked last week. Intel says more are coming, but these three are the spotters, the rest come to collect later.” The chatter through our earpieces confirms what we all thought. Tonight is the night. As I sit at the back end of the bar overlooking the seedy club, I know I need to focus. We’ve been here for little under an hour, and I’ve spotted at least twelve
possible girls they could pick. Darwin is across at the other side of the club where the second bar is situated, and much the same as me, he’s projecting the image of a drunk propping up the bar. Shelly’s sharing a table with Victor at the moment. They’re under the guise of being together, occasionally kissing and pretending to be all over each other. He will seemingly leave her alone later, following a fake argument, which will hopefully set the stage for Shelly to be the bait. Clint, Dean, and Brand are pretending to be drunk arseholes. At twenty-six, I’m one of the oldest—except Darwin, who has two years on me—which means we can all pass for horny guys out for a quick fuck. Nobody ever takes us for Black Ops, and that works in our favour. I scan the room but already know I’ll never spot Arlo and King. They’re ghosts, they always have been. I know they’re somewhere in the background, watching, lying in wait like coiled pythons. Until they’re needed, no one will see them. While sipping my drink, I covertly scan the men who have just arrived. To most, they are pretty nondescript—all have brown hair, stand around six foot and are wearing dark jeans and long-sleeved tops—but I notice the smaller things. The first guy has a scar on his chin, he’s slightly leaner than the other two, and I’d put my money on him being a quick sprint, which means he could get away easily. “Dean, the guy with the scar on his chin?” I wait
for his response. “Yep. Got him.” “He’s yours. He’ll be fast, you need to be faster.” “Done,” he replies, and just like that, I’ve matched the first of my team up. I can read people well, it’s one of the many reasons I’m in command. My stare eats up the room again picking out the second guy. They’re all sitting down now, the two heftier men seem slightly squashed in their booth. It was stupid of them to pick a booth rather than an open table like Shelly and Victor have. After all, they can be pinned in that booth. The second guy scans the room, and I avert my eyes and drop my head, so I don’t attract his attention. “You’re clear,” Darwin informs me, knowing instinctively what I was doing. Looking back up, I notice the second guy has scabs and grazes across his knuckles, a quick glance tells me guy three has the same. They’re part of the muscle. “Okay. The other two guys are muscle. My guess is…” I stop talking when another man moves to their table. Two of them immediately stand, and the new guy sits in the middle. He’s shorter than the rest wearing a suit and a gold watch, and he drips with power. “I was going to say I think there might be someone missing. Now I know I’m right. The main man has just sat down, probably the boss,
definitely the thinker.” Pausing, I assess the situation for a split second. “Darwin, you’re on the suit. Clint, Brand, on the muscle. I don’t care which one you pick, but choose between you now, so both of you know who you’re taking down.” “Got it.” “On it.” They both chorus at once. I scrub my hand down my face. “Right, my understanding is that there should have been three more arriving, but seeing as the boss has turned up, I think we should expect two more. Does the intel sound right?” I ask all of them the question because for the last week everyone has been trying to collect as much information as they could get their hands on. We were given bare scraps to work with when we were assigned this case, and as it was such a fastball, we’ve had no choice but to run with only sketchy information. I hate being unprepared, but even more than that, I hate asking my team to put themselves in danger when we only have part of the picture. “That’s what our understanding is,” Darwin confirms what I thought. “Prepare for the unexpected. Victor, you already know you’re to keep your eyes on Shelly in case she needs backup. That’s not a request, Shel,” I add the last comment knowing she’ll want to protest my order. “Arlo, King, I want you both prepared for
anything.” “Always are, boss,” King replies, and I’m pretty sure I hear a grunt from Arlo. “Keep your minds clear. There might be two more or ten more. Our intel is bare metal, and we haven’t had time to build on it. You know this. I’ll be here, too. All of you, keep focused. Let’s get this done.” I receive various murmurs of agreement from everyone. Even so, I can’t help hearing the bullshit in my own words, when my mind is fogged with long blonde hair, tattoos, and a face that has haunted my dreams for as long as I can remember. I nurse my drink for the next hour and receive varying looks of disgust from the barman, sitting here for so long with only one drink isn’t the done thing. Still, he seems happier when I shove a fiftypound note into the tips box. My back straightens, and my glass hits the counter hard as I forget to breathe. “You seeing this, Isaac?” Shel says, using my real name. But I can’t speak, my words are lassoed, and the rope that’s holding them hostage is attached directly to my heart. “Fuck me, they’ve been spotted,” Darwin adds, and my body goes cold. “Isaac, I’ve switched to the private channel, only you can hear me. Listen, now. I know you want to go over there, but you can’t. You go over there, you’ll fuck this whole mission. If
we play this right, keep an eye on the girls, we could have this in the bag tonight,” Darwin tells me what I already know. But all my brain screams is that my girl is in this shitty club with her friend at nearly three-thirty in the morning, wearing only a skirt and a fucking bra and getting herself noticed by the one group of men that no female ever wants to notice them. “Fuck me,” I whisper, for once not having a clue what to do as my heart and head commence war.
LIV “I can’t believe you brought me here,” I complain to Helena while looking around the dark, dingy club. “I’m pretty sure my feet are stuck to the floor,” I complain again, pulling one heel at a time from the tacky carpet beneath my soles. “What?” Helena chirps, shrugging her shoulders and winking. “It’s not that different from ShadowBox.” “That’s rubbish,” I state as I follow her toward the bar. “ShadowBox may be dark, but your feet don’t stick to the floor, and we’re always safe.” We reach the bar, and Helena turns to face me. “Technically, it’s your shoes that are stuck to the
floor and anyway, guys grab at us there, too,” she states, turning back to order our drinks. “Yeah, maybe, but I’ve never felt like I was going to be stabbed in the loos,” I return, crinkling my nose and looking around. A guy at the bar stares at me, and I can feel my eyes widen as I take him in. Brooding, dark, mysterious, and definitely dangerous. He looks away, and I can breathe again. He’s scary, but I still know one guy who’s scarier. “Seriously, you have to stop thinking about that tosspot,” Helena shoots out. “How do you know I’m thinking of him? You’re not even looking at me.” “You’re always thinking of him,” she replies deadpan, and I shut my mouth. We both worked tonight and only finished at two a.m. After cleaning up, we decided to go out clubbing. We started out at Regents, but Helena got bored with the dance music and wanted something a little darker, rockier. So she dragged me here, and while it’s slightly ominous and probably not very sanitary, the music is good. Three Days Grace’s ‘I Hate Everything About You’ comes on, and I throw back the shot Helena offers me. “Dance?” she questions raising an eyebrow with a knowing look. “Oh, yeah,” I reply and drag her into the throng of clubbers. “Do you get the feeling we’re being watched?”
Helena asks me. I shrug. “Probably, I mean we’re dancing in the middle of a club.” I glance between us. “You’re wearing a skin-tight pair of jeans and what is essentially a boob tube.” I grin. “It’s summer!” she shoots back. “Hel, it may be late August, but it’s also four in the morning. Not exactly hot.” She harrumphs. “It’s hot in here with all these bodies,” she informs me with a raised eyebrow. “Okay, I’ll give you that.” I wink back. We’re both still dancing, and our skin glistens. The sweat beads all over me. It gives the illusion that my tattoos glow. I catch a few admiring stares, but I’m not interested. My heart is smashed to smithereens, and at this point, I’m not sure it’s ever going to work again. “Anyway, you can’t talk about what I’m wearing, lady,” she says pointing at me. I glance down at my clothes or lack of them. She’s right, there isn’t much of my skin that’s covered, at least not on top anyway. I chose to wear a black Lycra pencil skirt. It’s so tight that I have no underwear on. It’s an unusual choice for me as it restricts my dancing but I want to feel girly and sexy tonight. The skirt is attached to braces which run up and over my shoulders. I guess that under the braces, I’m supposed to have a top on or maybe a grandad shirt. I have a black bra on. That’s it. My skirt, a
black bra, and black slinky heels that are so high, they should be illegal. My hair trails down my back, and I’m like a walking showcase for my tattoos. I giggle and pull her into me. We dance like hookers for the next twenty minutes laughing and enjoying ourselves. Finally. Once Helena has had enough of dancing, we go to the back of the club searching for a table. We find an open booth and settle in. “So what’s going on with you and Noah?” I question her. Helena only came back from her grandparents last night, so we haven’t had much time to chat. “He’s picking me up early next week, and we’re going for dinner.” I raise my eyebrow at her. “Wow, how… domesticated.” I smile. Her lips pinch together, and she narrows her eyes. “I will never be domesticated, Liv, I just…” She shrugs, pink stains her cheeks. “Hey,” I say reaching across the table and grabbing her hand. “It’s okay, you can like him, and you can want to go to dinner with him. Just because you have tats, and we’re not altogether straight laced, let’s call it…” I say with air quotes, “… that doesn’t mean you have to date a biker covered with tats who has a Mohawk.” She laughs, and it starts me off too. “Hello, ladies.”
We both glance at the man greeting us. He’s not overly tall but as we’re both fairly short, he would still be at least five or six inches taller than us. His suit is a shiny grey, and his skin is leathery. “Hi,” I reply. “I was hoping to buy you ladies a drink,” he tells us, sliding into the booth beside me. I scoot over as I don’t have a choice and instantly feel creeped out as he brushes his thumb up my thigh. “No thanks,” Helena instantly feeds back to him. He offers her a cursory glance—which is more like a sneer—before looking back at me. “Can I buy you a drink, pretty lady?” What a sleazebag! I shudder, but I’m pretty sure he thinks it’s because I like him. Every hair on my body stands on end, and my brain shouts at me to move away from this guy, but I’m blocked in by him. I decide tact would be the best way out at this juncture. “Erm, it’s very kind of you to offer, but I’m here with my friend, and we’re in the middle of talking. Sorry, girls’ night.” I smile, hoping he gets the idea. “No boyfriends?” he asks looking around. “No. Just us,” I inform him. He smiles, but it’s fake and doesn’t reach his eyes. “Sorry to have bothered you, ladies,” he tells me smoothly, and my hackles rise. “That’s okay,” I return, but I’m spooked as I watch him slither away, taking a last glance back.
“Well, that wasn’t creepy,” Helena whispers the minute he’s gone. “Hmmm… that didn’t feel right. I think we should go,” I tell her looking over to the bar and mentally calling a cab. “Oh, come on, don’t be a party pooper. I need to drink and dance, I don’t want that dick ruining our night.” My shoulders drop, and I force myself to relax. “Okay, fine.” “Drinks,” she says and drags me to the bar. Twenty minutes later and we’ve had another four shots. I can’t see straight, and I can’t stop giggling, but when the song ‘Always’ by Saliva comes on, my feet take me to the dance floor. The emotion that moves through me is all my pent-up frustration, all aimed at one man. I have no idea where Isaac is, and my brain says to forget him, but my heart still loves him, and I fear it always will.
ISAAC My muscles are rigid. I’m completely strung out, every inch of me pulled tight like the strings on a bow, ready to snap. I’ve felt like this since Via
came into Crimson, but when one of my marks went over to her table and sat next to her, I lifted from my stool. Arlo and King appeared and locked me down—kind of. I could have pushed it, could have still gotten to her, but there was no reason to hurt my friends. If he had tried something with Via, though, all bets would have been off, and if Arlo and King hadn’t have let me go, things would have turned out differently. I have a new purpose, that’s why I know I need to leave, because Black Ops, the mission, my team, they don’t come first anymore. She does. I think she always has, but now I know I can’t live without her, not anymore.
Via’s heavily drunk, but as soon as the Saliva track ‘Always’ comes on, she starts dancing to the song. She dances as though it’s her lifeline, like the words are what feeds the blood pumping around her body. It reminds me how much I hurt her, and how she feels about me. Two things happen simultaneously. I realise this time she’s never going to forgive me—not ever, and that realisation happens at the same time a pair of muscly arms grab her and pull her toward the back of the club.
ISAAC “Get the fuck off me!” I roar, throwing both Arlo and King at least four feet clear of me. I run through the club, barrelling over people, shoving them out of the way. The moment I barge through the fire escape, I know that the whole thing was a mistake… or a setup. I count ten men standing in front of me, and two vans idle behind them. Dean is on the floor, unmoving. Fuck. “Isaac?” Via’s shaky voice tears me up inside, and my eyes move from her to the man gripping her arm. “You thought we didn’t know about you? That this was a covert op? You should watch your back,
young man, you never know who’s shoving knives into it.” The words spring free from the mouth of the suit. Derry. That’s the name of the leader. I remember it from the sparse intel we were provided. “Via, you’re going to be fine. I will come for you,” I tell her, my voice steady because I know it’s true. “Isaac,” Via whispers. “Don’t let them take me, please!” she screams. I know what’s coming as her screams continue, and all I can do is keep looking at her trying to let her know I’ll get her even if it’s not right now. One of the men standing at her back raises his hand, the gun glints in the moonlight as he clocks her on the back of the head, and she falls limp in his arms. I show no emotion. I’ve locked everything down. If I don’t, she’ll die, but I mark him as mine to kill. “Hmmm… so cold. I’ve heard about you, Kane. Heard you were a frigid bastard. She’s someone to you.” He steps forward, his suit crinkling as he moves. Stopping, he rubs his chin. “You think you’re going to save her, but you’re not.” He shakes his head, grinning. As he fades into the background his men step forward, obscuring my view of him. Helena isn’t visible, so I know she’s already in one van. I watch poised as the man holding Via throws her over his shoulder and spins around walking away.
Pulling my knife from my sleeve, I jump forward stabbing the man in front of me in the throat. All hell breaks loose as shouting, shooting, and smashing fills the quiet night air with sound. I see the moment they throw Via into the back of one of the vans and flee. I knew they would. I had settled it in my mind, knowing I wouldn’t get through the guys in front of me before they took her. Now I’m facing multiple men, Dean is down, and I have no idea where the rest of my team is. Crouching and rounding out my leg, I take down the next man to come at me—his head hits the concrete step and makes a crunching sound. I reach around to my waistband pulling out my gun, shooting the guy to my far left. I only manage to hit his shoulder as the others rush toward me. Fighting is a matter of life and death, and right now, as I feel fists hit my back and ribs, I know I need to think quick. With my gun in one hand and my knife in the other, I shoot someone, making a space as they fall. At the same time, I stab another. Sucking the knife out of his flesh, I push it back in again. There’s a groan and a thump—another one down. I swing my fist up and thrust the knife into the next man’s chin, pushing up into his mouth. He falls taking my knife, so I bring up my gun, but not quick enough I realise as I feel the cold steel at my temple. “I might not have pulled my gun out originally
because I wanted to beat you like a real man. Seeing as you used your gun, I figure it’s anything goes now,” a man at my back tells me. I chuckle. “This isn’t schoolboy rules, dickhead. If it were, then none of you would have rushed me. Instead, you would have fought me one at a time. But then you know I would have killed every single one of you.” He clocks me on the back of my head, and I grind my teeth together. “You’re brave for a man who has a gun to his brain,” he sneers. I chuckle again hearing the chatter in my earpiece. “I know something you don’t know,” I tease darkly. “Oh yeah, and that would be?” he sniggers. “I’m not alone,” I tell him. The second it registers on his face, a collection of gunshots ring out and he falls to the ground. The rest of the men drop around us, each one with a bullet in their head. “Took you lot long enough,” I snap counting through my team and making sure they’re all there. “We fucked up. No time to discuss it now. I’ve called in clean up. We need to debrief and quick,” Darwin tells me something I already know. “Back to the house. Clint, Brand, check Dean. See if he needs medical attention… or not.” They know what to do, and they know what I mean. If
he’s dead, then he’ll be taken to the crematorium we have a contract with, and if he’s okay, then they’ll bring him back to the house and call the doctor we keep on the books. They both nod and grab Dean as I make my way to my motorbike, ready to set up a plan to get my girl back. Before I do, there’s a visit I need to make.
“Kane,” Doreen says, darting up from her bed and reaching for her gun. “Don’t bother, I’ve already taken it.” “Kane, whatever you’re thinking, don’t. You’ll bring a world of hurt down on yourself,” she warns. I smile. “You think I care? My woman, the only one I’ve ever been in love with, the reason I do what I do, the one person I’ve tried to protect, has been kidnapped. Taken to be sold into the sex trade. Ask me if I care what devastation I leave in my wake, ask me if I care who I kill. Ask me if I care whether I die.” I snarl, venom coating every word. She doesn’t say anything, but her worried eyes tell me everything I need to know. “You already know that the answer to all those questions is no. I care about nothing but saving her. That’s the only fucking thing I care about, and
whatever I need to do to make that happen.” I shrug. “So be it.” “Why did you come here?” she asks, and for the first time in all the years I’ve known her, I can hear the fear in her voice. “The information you provided was shit. It wasn’t nearly close enough to what we normally have. We went in there half blind, believing there were six. We were ambushed. Dean may be dead, and they’ve taken Via and her roommate, Helena. Derry, the boss, he knew who I was, knew we were coming.” I take a breath in and out trying to calm myself, then I lean forward so we’re nose to nose. “I want to know who sold us out,” I whisper, and Doreen swallows hard. “It wasn’t me,” she murmurs, and instinctively I know she’s telling the truth. “Then you’re going to help me figure out who.” She nods. “Then, when this shit is done, if I’m not dead, you will help clean up the mess I made and let me out so I can be with my girl in peace.” She nods again. “Finally, whichever members of my team want out, you will release them, too. It’s their lives, not yours. Understand?” “Y-yes, Kane.” “Isaac,” I grind out. “I-Isaac.” “Get the fuck up. You’re coming with me,” I tell her.
“Where have you been?” Darwin hisses. “Getting someone,” I snap dragging Doreen forward and into the house. “What the fuck is she doing here?” he asks. “Debrief. Now!” I shout through the house while moving to stand behind my seat at the top of the table. Everyone gathers, and I look to Clint. “Dean?” I ask. “Bullet was through and through. In the shoulder. Doc’s upstairs with him now.” I nod and some of the tension releases. I lay both palms flat on the table and lean forward trying to be the commander and not a man in love. “Status is they took Olivia McKenna and Helena Todd.” I stare around the room at everyone. They wear varying degrees of concern on their faces, from those who know my Via—and what she means to me—to those who know we lost our marks tonight and don’t want innocent girls to be harmed. “Some of you know, some of you don’t, but for those who are unaware, Olivia is my cousin.” I swallow down the lie knowing she’s far more than my cousin, she’s my everything.
“Shit.” “Fuck.” “Oh God.” Everyone seems to have something to say, and I slam my hand on the table making the few cups— that all look like they’re drifting in a sea of wood— tremble under my weight. “Enough!” I shout. They all go quiet, waiting for my next order. “It doesn’t matter who she is to me. All you need to know is that they took two innocents tonight. We should have prevented that, and we didn’t. I want to know what happened.” They look at each other. “One at a time. Shelly, you first.” Shelly nods and looks at Victor. “We never had our argument because Liv turned up.” Her eyes move to meet mine. “We didn’t have a clear line of sight when they took her, we only knew something happened when you barrelled through the crowd, and we saw Arlo and King scrambling after you. We moved quickly. We could see Clint and Brand advancing toward the back of the hallway. A gun went off over the other side of the club, people started screaming and running for the front. As that was going on, we were tackled by two guys and had to fight them off. We came outside as soon as we could.” Nodding, I look to King. “Same man, we were after you and were tackled once the gun went off. We dispatched the men and
reached the door at the same time as Shelly and Victor. Clint and Brand, too,” he adds. I look to Clint. “Yeah, exactly the same thing, except Dean left out of a side door following the suited guy.” “Derry.” “Yeah, he followed him, obviously into an unknown number of hostiles,” Clint explains. “Okay.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and think for a second. “Right, Shelly, Victor, Clint, and Brand, go get all the notes and go over everything. We need to find where they’re hiding, what their weaknesses are. Everything we can that will give us an edge.” They all get up and move out the room as one, only Shelly pauses to squeeze my shoulder as she goes. “Arlo, King, kindly take Doreen and find out what she knows. Doreen, I know it’s early,” I say glancing at the time telling me it’s only just fivethirty a.m. “But I need you to connect with your people, find out what you can, but don’t say why. This needs to be under the radar.” She nods and walks out with them. I look back at the clock. The time is like a beacon flashing, but all that tells me is that they’ve had Via for an hour now. I’d like to believe they won’t kill her, after all she’s a commodity to them. The truth is, if they think having her will be more trouble than it’s worth, then when I do locate them, there is a very real
possibility I could walk in to find Via with a hole in her head. I twist my neck from side to side relishing the clicks as I do. “This is a shit storm,” Darwin complains clicking his fingers one by one. I watch him, his movements are fluid, but his body is rigid. I wonder for a moment if he’s the source. “We have another traitor,” Darwin tells me, and I nod. “I thought that ended when Marcus was dealt with, but tonight something happened.” “What?” I question. “First, I wasn’t outside when you needed me. For that, I’m sorry. I saw what was happening, but I chose a different path.” “Okay. Enlighten me,” I demand. “There was another team in there with us.” My back straightens at his words, not just because I’m surprised, but also because I didn’t clock them. “Black Ops?” I question. “Yeah.” “You sure?” “Yes. Two of them I worked with years ago. I kept out of their sight once I saw them. Avoided being seen at all costs. There were only four, but it looked like they were there to help our targets.” “Fuck.” The word claws its way out of my throat, and I want to punch something. “I managed to follow them, and I got this...” Darwin pulls out his phone and presses play.
“Proctor wants this to go off without a hitch. He said helping them now will set things up,” the first guy says. “That’s Calroe. I’ve worked with him. I’m not surprised by this, he’s a dirty bastard,” Darwin sneers before pressing play again. “It’s one thing to let some drugs slide, but this is too much, Calroe,” the second guy whispers, and Darwin nods at me. “Stop being such a pussy, Steed. It’s a few whores here and there. No one will miss them. Anyway, we’ll be set for life, and Proctor will get rid of his wife. All’s well that ends well.” Calroe chuckles. “That’s all I could get before they moved off, then I heard a gunshot so I came outside. You have to know, Proctor is another handler, like Doreen,” Darwin informs me. “Fuck. All this shit. Kidnapping women… and who knows what drugs they’ve let slide, all because he wants them to kill his wife?” I scrub my palm down my face. “Shall I go join King, Arlo, and Doreen and share what I know?” I nod. “Yeah, I’m going online to hack whatever I can, I need information, and I don’t have time to make it careful or clean. If I leave a trail, I don’t care.” I shrug. “She’s in danger.” “I have your back. Always,” Darwin tells me,
and I feel another piece of tension break away.
“I’ve pulled everything I can from locked-down files in the database Doreen so kindly provided us,” Darwin says with a smirk and a glance to a visibly shaken Doreen. “It looks like they’re holed up here,” he says pointing to a spot on a printout of a local map. “Where is that?” I question. The paper ripples as he turns it to face him. I try to memorize every little detail of what’s happening second by second. It’s the only way I can engage my brain and keep it busy, allowing me to turn off the scared, fucked-up part that wants to become a savage and destroy the fucking world. “That’s Trent Close.” “What’s there?” I ask, thinking back a few years ago and remembering the houses on that road being demolished. “Not a lot. There used to be seven houses, but they’ve been torn down. The only thing still there is this building,” he says tapping the map. “It’s at the end of the street which is a cul-de-sac. I think it used to be a retirement home.” “Clint, get me blueprints of the layout.” He turns and walks out, following his orders.
“We’re going to get them,” I tell the others. “The new intel says we’ve halved their numbers. They’re hurting, but they do have both girls as leverage. I estimate they have around fifteen to twenty men at most. But first, I have something else to deal with. Another Black Ops team have been in on this shit. Doreen has dispatched people to pick them up from their homes so they won’t be an issue. I’m dealing with Proctor, personally.” “But…” Doreen splutters. My eyes move to meet hers, and she shrinks back in her seat. “Do not fucking test me. I found everything I needed in the files I hacked, although those recordings from the other Black Ops team were enough for me anyway. He’s been doing this for years, letting them take girls to sell as young as fucking twelve!” I shout. “He’s happy enough to do that shit, and now he’s involved me and what’s mine. I’m taking his blood. You clean up the mess I make today. You fucking owe me that much,” I boom. Her body trembles. “Yeah, you’re right. Of course. Do what you need to do.” “I was going to,” I inform her with a shrug. “Darwin, get everyone ready. I’ll meet you here in one hour,” I say pointing to the place on the map. “They’ve had the girls for four hours now, that’s four hours too long.” He nods, and I’m already grabbing my
motorbike helmet. As I walk out the door, my phone rings. I rip it from my pocket desperately hoping it’s Via, but it’s my mum. “I love you, Mum, but I can’t talk now,” I tell the ringing phone before diverting it to voicemail, then switching it to silent.
“Hello, Proctor,” I greet the slightly older man as I approach him sitting having breakfast by his swimming pool. He puffs up his chest and sneers at me. “You can’t come in here. Do you know who I am?” he asks, and I chuckle taking a seat next to him. Turning so we’re facing each other, I respond with, “Do you know who I am?” “No, who?” “I’m the man who is going to kill you,” I say calmly, grinning. I’ve never been one for chatting before the kill. His eyes widen, but that’s the only reaction I allow before shoving the six-inch blade of my knife into the left side of his throat. I watch as he slumps forward into his scrambled eggs and dies in front of me. Ripping the knife from his neck, I wipe it on his jeans, then return it back to my pocket. “Told you,” I tell the now still and silent figure.
Now I need to get my girl. I can’t think about the possibility of her being dead. I can’t, because if she is, then I might as well make this my last battle. If she’s dead, then I’ll make sure I die today, too. Because if Via’s gone, then inside I’ll already have joined her.
LIV “You know, we don’t usually take women with tattoos. Clean skin is the preference, but this time’s different, this time tattoos have been requested— lots of them. How lucky was I to find a blonde and a brunette together,” the man called Derry says. He sits in front of us, his manner comes across as though he believes he’s a king. There’s no remorse in his eyes. None. He’s a robot. Helena and I both remain silent. I’m not sure how long we were here before being woken when they so graciously threw ice cold water over us. After which, this small, quiet, cold man introduced himself as Derry and informed us why we were
here and what we were intended for. He also went on to explain that if we tried to escape, or fight him, we would die. Fun times. Helena said something about him being a crazy bastard. He backhanded her, then did it a second time. Dried blood now flakes at the corner of her right nostril as well as where he tore her lip. He disappeared for a while after that. I have no idea where we are. It looks like the room we’re in used to be a bedroom, but it’s completely bare except for the chair which Derry currently sits on. Mouldy white and green wallpaper peels from the walls, and the light filters through closed, dark green curtains, which tells me it’s daytime at least. Both Helena and I have our wrists tied behind our backs. Taking a look at Helena’s bound hands earlier told me it’s been done with tie wraps. One thing’s for sure, they’re cutting into me, so I’ve tried to remain as still as possible. “Now, don’t think for a second that your precious boy is coming to get you, my dear. He’ll already be dead.” “Fuck you!” I retort without thinking. The pain comes a mere second later, not having time to breathe before another jolt hits my face as the next fist lands. “Bloody women!” Derry snaps. It’s the first time I’ve heard him raise his voice. “Now you both listen and listen well. I don’t want to hurt you, at
the end of the day I need to sell you. My clients won’t want you if you’re busted up, bruised, and bleeding. What do you think will happen to you then?” He makes a slash motion across his throat. “I’ll kill you. I don’t need you if there’s no sale. Think on that.” I listen to his words but don’t acknowledge them as I fight to breathe, trying desperately not to cry as pain radiates through my skull. As he nears the door, he turns back. “One more thing. I don’t swing your way, but my men do. As long as they don’t leave any marks, I can decide, should I so wish, to let them have free rein with you both. Neither of you are virgins.” He shrugs. “It won’t be seen as ruining the merchandise.” His laughter follows him out of the room as I glance over to Helena and watch the tears falling down her face. “Isaac,” I whisper. “I don’t want to hear another fucking word about that man,” she snaps “He’ll come,” I tell her, ignoring the glare she sends me through the tears. “Listen, he will.” “What makes you think that? Because he said so?” she returns sarcastically. “Hey, we’re in this together,” I reply. I’m hurt, but I know her too well. When she’s scared, she lashes out. It’s all she knows. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” her words are mumbled
as the sobbing starts. “Shhh, it’s okay,” I soothe. It feels like my face is swelling, and I have no idea if it really will be okay or if Isaac will come. But he told me he would, and I have to believe him. No matter what has happened, I know he loves me. That’s something I’m sure of. “He’ll come? You’re sure?” “Yes. I’m sure he’ll come,” I try to convince her, and myself. I shuffle over next to Helena, and she immediately lays her head on my shoulder. I think back over the years without Isaac and wonder where he’s been. He said he’d tell me everything. I know one thing, when he came into that alleyway, and that guy was holding me, he was different, he wasn’t my Isaac anymore. I watched him morph in front of my eyes, and now I’m starting to piece the puzzle together. If I’m right it means we really do have a chance. “When I was sixteen, I started dating a boy named Chris,” I tell Helena. She remains still, listening to my tale. “He was two years older than me and went to the local college. He’d gone to our school, so everyone knew him, he was Mr Popular.” I snort out a laugh. “Every week I went to the local youth group. It was mainly guys DJing and girls hanging around trying to get their attention. There were pool tables and a couple of
air hockey tables. I’m not sure why my friend Tori and I started going, but after a few weeks, we bumped into Chris. He took an instant liking to me, and although I was flattered, I wasn’t interested. After all, it had always been Isaac for me, and even at sixteen, my feelings were uncontrollable.” Helena giggles. “You don’t say.” My chest loosens at her jesting, and I realise I’m taking her mind off everything by telling her my story. “Uh-huh,” I confirm with a small smile. “Anyway, Tori was beside herself that Chris was into me. She practically pushed me into his arms.” “Nice friend,” Helena drawls. “Yeah, well she was only sixteen… although she did bail on me when I went off the rails after Isaac beat Charlie to a pulp.” “Like I said…” Helena trails off. “Anyway, I was pushed toward Chris, and one night, after watching a meeting of the mouths with Isaac and his latest conquest, I thought, fuck it, why not?” I bite down on my lip gently, remembering and letting the emotion wash over me like it only happened yesterday. “We dated for about three months.” “What happened?” “He was very controlling. One time he accused me of trying to seduce his friend because unbeknown to me, a button on my top had popped
open.” I stare down at her. “I had big boobs for my frame.” She eyes my chest area then looks back up to me with her eyebrow raised. “Okay, not much has changed. But still, it wasn’t done on purpose,” I tell her. She giggles again and a rush of warmth runs through me, knowing I’m still keeping her occupied. “Anyway, that was just one time. Another time he accused me of sleeping with one of his other friends, because we happened to bump into each other while shopping one day, and decided to go for lunch. I mean, I wasn’t even sleeping with Chris. I was a virgin back then,” I confide. “Then I met a female friend in a shop once when I was with Chris, and because he wasn’t introduced to her immediately, he was angry.” “What the fuck?” “Yeah,” I confirm. “Those are just a few of many examples.” I sigh. “Things came to a head when one day we argued, and he told me we were over. He said he’d been offered sex by another girl at my school, and that he was going to find her.” I bite my lip, but let it go again when it stings. “We argued, and he pinned me up against the wall.” Helena gasps at my admission. “I was scared of him, Hel, he bruised my arms, threatened me, and threw me against a wall so hard that my head
bounced off it.” “Oh my God, what did you do?” she asks. I twitch my shoulder. “Nothing. I wasn’t as strong then as I’ve become over the years,” I reply. “Well, of course not, you were sixteen. But you told someone right?” she asks. “No. I was too scared,” I admit. “So what happened?” “Isaac happened.” “Huh? What do you mean?” “You know the story of how he ended up in prison?” I feel her nod against my shoulder. “I knew I was alone the moment I woke that morning, and that he’d gone after Charlie. This story is the reason I knew. Because he’d done it before.” “Oh my God,” she murmurs. “The day after Chris bounced my head off the wall he suddenly stopped calling me. I never saw him again. I thought I was just lucky, maybe he got bored of me… you know?” Helena nods in response. “After Isaac went into the Army, I bumped into a friend of his. We were chatting about Isaac, and he mentioned how protective he always was of me. That’s when I found out someone saw what Chris did to me the day he threw me into the wall. Whoever saw it was a female friend of Isaac’s, and she called him.” “Oh fuck, what did he do?”
“I’m not sure. Isaac’s friend said that Chris was in the hospital for a while with a broken eye socket. I don’t know if that was from Isaac, but his friend said it was.” “You’ve never asked Isaac?” she questions. “No. I don’t know why, I guess I was worried that he might say no, and I wanted it to be him… you know?” “Yeah. You wanted him to save you, to be your knight,” she relays my thoughts out loud. “I’m a fool, right?” “Nope. Not at all.” We both remain quiet, and after about ten minutes, I think maybe she’s fallen asleep until she breaks the silence. “I love you, Olivia. I won’t ever bail on you. When we get out of here, we’ll get through it together, okay, babe?” I rest my head on top of hers. “Okay, I love you, too,” I whisper, holding back on all the emotion that’s eating me from the inside out.
I must drift off, because the next thing I know, I’m being dragged across the floor by my hair. I scream and get a kick in the ribs for it. “Liv!” Helena shouts my name, and I hear a
thump before she goes quiet. I desperately try to look over my shoulder, to check that she’s okay, but the man-beast holding me thinks I’m struggling to get away, so he shouts and then kicks me in the back. “Stop fucking kicking me,” I scream, my anger winning out over my fear. He drops me, but I only get a moment of freedom before his fist connects with my already painful ribs. I hiss and then wheeze out a breath, every lungful after that is a battle to pull in and release air. “See, I didn’t kick you that time. Your wish was granted,” he tells me laughing. I want to shout ‘fuck you’ to him, but I can’t speak. I can barely breathe. He doesn’t care though, and once again grabbing my hair, he continues to drag me into another room. The minute we’re in there, I realise exactly what he’s about to do, as he pulls off his belt and starts unbuttoning his jeans.
ISAAC I didn’t want her to see me like this—at my darkest. I know once she understands what I’m
capable of, she’ll feel differently about me. But her life is my life, I’ll do anything to make sure she’s safe, even if that means giving her up. As I pull up a little over two hundred feet from the derelict retirement home, I yank off my helmet and sit astride my bike for a moment. This is it. This is where I’ll save her and lose her all at the same time. Pulling myself from the bike, I stretch every muscle, preparing for what’s to come. I check the few weapons I have and put in my earpiece. “Is everyone here?” A chorus of affirmative answers ring in my ear. “Five minutes until we go in. Darwin, have you placed everyone?” I question. “Yes. King and Arlo are going in through the back. Clint and Brand are going underground through the basement entrance. Victor and Shelly are covering fire from the outside. Shelly at the back and Victor at the front. You and me, we’re going in the front.” “Good. Shelly, Victor. Feel it out, but don’t rush in. If we need backup, we’ll call. Otherwise stay outside, we’ll send the girls out if we can.” “Understood,” Victor chimes back. “Shelly?” I push. “Yeah. I heard you,” she murmurs. “Get to your places. Darwin, I’m coming now. Three minutes twenty until we go in. Radio silence.” I give my orders to my team and stealthily
make my way to the front of the run-down building. Seeing Darwin, we both gesture with our hands. He’ll go in first, and I’ll cover him. I pull out my knife—which is my weapon of choice since it’s silent—and get ready. “Go,” I whisper and start moving. Darwin and I come across two sleeping men. We dispatch them quickly and silently by cutting their throats, then make our way upstairs. I can hear a commotion has started so I know our cover has been blown, we need to be quicker. Reaching the first floor, Darwin signals right so I turn left. I clock five rooms. Two on each side and one set back at the end of the hallway, about ten feet further than the others. Moving into the first room, I find a man alone, but he’s ready, and when I step through the door, a knife slices through the air beside my head. I move forward and land a punch to his throat. He grasps his windpipe as he struggles to breathe. I step forward and break his neck. Turning, I prowl to the next room. It’s empty. Room three has me smiling. When I move into the small space, I find the man who took Via, the one who clocked her with a gun. He rushes at me. I turn cocking my elbow and ram it into his nose, pushing it up into his brain. I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t have more time to deal with him, to extend his pain. But I have more important things to do. I want Via.
As I’m about to go into the fourth room, a crash pierces the air. My whole body stands to attention, every hair arrow straight on my body, my teeth grinding against each other. My muscles uncoil, and I run, flat out toward the room. What I see as I smash through the door is something I never want to see again. Via is practically naked on the floor, her hands tied behind her back. She’s struggling to breathe, her eyes streaming with tears as a man kneels before her, his jeans pushed down from his waist as he cradles his dick in his hand. A feral roar thunders from my mouth emerging from somewhere in my darkest depths. I spot a fire axe on the floor. Picking it up, I whirl it around and hack at his neck, pulling the axe back out as blood spurts everywhere, I hack him again. I’m jumped on from behind, but whoever attacks me is torn away as I swing for a third time. I can’t stop as the darkness takes over, and I can’t control it. All I can see is Via being violated. My arm moves of its own accord and doesn’t stop until his head falls to the floor with a thud, followed immediately by his body. “We’ve got the brunette, we’re clear.” I hear King in my ear. I grab a blanket laying it over Via, while Darwin cuts through her restraints. I kneel down, ready to pick her up, but her eyes are fearful as she tries to move away from me.
“I’ve got her,” Darwin murmurs gathering her up gently in his arms. I want to tear him away, rip him from her. He’s taking my place, she should be in my arms, but I can see the truth in her eyes— I’ve already lost her.
LIV I pinch myself then hiss through my teeth at the pain. I had to feel it, though. I had to know if everything I’ve witnessed, all I’ve been through in the last few hours is real. The man holding me in his arms is tall and wide, but I already know he’s a gentle giant. I know he’s safe because he was with Isaac. As he looks down at me, I know for certain because both worry and kindness fill his eyes. I hear footsteps approach fast from the left and when they get nearer, I flinch. “Careful movements,” my gentle giant warns. “Sorry, Kane asked me to bring this for her.” “Give it to her.”
I see another man come around to my side, he’s not as tall as Mr Gentle, but his eyes are just as kind. I take in his blond hair and scruffy beard—he reminds me of a mountain man. Smiling, he hands me a bottle of water. I try to return his smile gratefully, but my guess is that it comes out like more of a grimace, when he stares at me sadly. “Thank you,” I wheeze to the mountain man. “Don’t speak, sweetheart,” he replies. There’s a growl from behind us which I recognise as Isaac, and I jolt. “Shhh, try to remain still,” gentle giant murmurs. I force my body to relax and my chest to expand as I take a couple sips of water. I know Isaac is behind us, and I need to talk to him, but my ribs, back, face, and chest all hurt, plus I still have to process what I saw. Isaac hacked a man’s head off. Right. Fucking. Off. For me… I still have his blood splattered across my bare chest. I don’t know what I thought Isaac’s job was, but it wasn’t this. I guess I had some romantic notion about the Army. The truth, however, doesn’t come close. Back there he was someone else, a man possessed, a man on a mission. A man in love… A phone starts ringing, and I can hear a disjointed conversation which sounds like Isaac, but
my head is so fuzzy I could be imagining it. My gentle giant stops walking when we reach a black car, he places me in the back and bends down. “You’re safe now. You know that right?” he tells me softly. I nod in reply, but gasp as pain slashes through my head. “Take it easy,” he orders quietly before moving away. Carefully, I lay my head back and close my eyes. “Via.” That one word still elicits all the butterflies in my body to come alive and whirl around at speed. Opening my eyes, I blink and look at Isaac. He’s crouched down next to the open door of the car. His face is soft, loving, if a little fearful. He’s my Isaac again. But as I blink, the images of him chopping at that man’s neck haunt me, and I can’t help but recoil. He sighs and shuffles backwards a little creating more space between us. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to see me right now.” I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. I don’t know what to say. Right at this moment, I’m not sure if he’s wrong or right in his assumption. “You’ve been through hell, you’ll want to speak to someone, plus you’ll want your mum or dad, someone you love with you,” his voice breaks, and
I want to cry. “I… I s-still love you,” I manage to rasp out. He smiles at me and warily raises his arm, his fingers reaching out to touch my face, but I shrink in my seat. His hand whips back, and as his sad gaze meets mine I look away, avoiding eye contact. It seems best at this point. I can’t help the automatic reaction of my body. I’m still terrified by what I’ve seen. “You may still love me, but that will fade. You’ll get over it. I’m not the right man for you, Via, I never was,” he tells me tenderly. “Isaac.” “No. I should have kept away. I’m dirty, soiled. I’m not a good man, and now you’ve seen that, now you understand the darkness inside me.” “I, I don’t know what I want. I need some time. Can you give me time?” I plead, knowing I just need to take a breath, have a moment, and work this shit through in my head. “Times up, Via. We were never right.” He shrugs as his face changes. Indifference fills his eyes, alongside arrogance. Once again, this isn’t him. I open my mouth to speak, but he gets there first. His eyes are filled with grief and sorrow for a second before they turn blank. “My mum called. I’m sorry after all that’s happened to you, I have to tell you that Uncle Dane has died.”
“What?” Shock takes hold of me. “I’m sorry. I don’t know any more than that.” He shrugs like it’s all the same to him. Then nods his head to a figure standing outside the car. “Victor here is a good guy. He’s going to drive you to the hospital. Your roommate, Helena, is already on her way. I’ll call Toby and ask him to meet you there. See you around, Olivia.” My full name on his lips burns, and I swallow the pain into my soul, adding it to the rest. Isaac stands before I have a chance to do or say anything more and slams the car door, walking away. “Hi, I’m Victor, I’m just going to drive you to the hospital, okay?” a tall, tanned, and tattooed man says sliding into the driver’s seat. I don’t answer him, I can’t. Uncontrolled tears once again roll down my face. Watching out the window as the car turns around, I spot Shelly, Isaac’s supposed girlfriend. The same one he swore he wasn’t really dating. She seems to be having heated words with him, her arms flail about, and she points her finger toward him, then me. Fuck, maybe he has been with her this whole time, and she’s found out what happened between him and me. He glances over at me and notices I’m staring. Isaac winks and salutes a goodbye, then suddenly he pulls Shelly into his arms and kisses her hard. “Bastard!” The word rips free from my mouth in feral scream before a sob erupts from the very
bottom of my now shattered heart. I turn around. I face forward. I decide never to look back. Never again.
LIV The funny thing about time is we never really have enough. Yet, when we’re waiting for something, it suddenly starts to drag. Time itself has not changed. Time is its own master, and we’re merely a participant along for the journey. While I watch another sunset from my bedroom window, I realise that a fourth day has passed without any contact from Isaac, and suddenly I hate time. I want to blame it for all the pain, confusion, and grief I feel. “So, that’s it?” Helena asks sharply, bringing me out of my trance-like state. I don’t bother turning to look at her as I answer.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Hel. He made his feelings pretty clear. I’ve texted him. Told him I want to talk, sort things out. He hasn’t responded. He’s done.” “For fuck’s sake, Liv, he came for you, he saved you,” she snaps. “He chopped a man’s head off like it meant nothing,” I reply. There’s no fire behind my words as I can’t summon up any sympathy for the dead man, for any of them. “That man he killed was going to rape you!” she shouts. I twist around in my chair and launch myself up out of it, every part of me is on edge. “Don’t fucking tell me what I already know! He left me,” I say jabbing my thumb on my chest. “I was in a situation I’d never even been close to dealing with before.” I start pacing, throwing my thoughts at her. “Maybe I reacted badly, yes I flinched, but you know what? I was bloody scared, okay? I couldn’t fucking help it. Isaac gave me no slack, none,” I shout, slicing my hand through the air. “He decided what was best. Him. He decided. Not me. So don’t for even one second act like I’m the one who caused this.” The fight leaves me as her face softens, and I sink to the floor and sob. “Shhh,” she coos, sitting next to me and curling her arms around my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I just… I
don’t want you to give up on him.” “He gave up on me first, Hel,” I reply, gathering myself once again. “Not true, baby girl.” She strokes my hair. “I think, deep down, you know that, too.” “Maybe,” I concede. “But I have no fight left. None.” “Okay, let’s face your uncle’s funeral, and then we’ll take a holiday, go away somewhere and recoup,” she offers. “I’m going alone.” “What? On holiday?” she questions pulling away from me and frowning. “No. To the funeral.” “Why?” she whispers. “Because I need to do this. My family doesn’t know what happened. I’m just thankful my face never looked too bad, and although my ribs are bruised, they aren’t broken. There’s nothing visible.” “I know all that. It still doesn’t explain why you’re not taking me.” “Your face won’t pass, Hel. I don’t want the questions. Uncle Saul knows what happened, and so does Toby. The rest don’t have a clue, and they never need to know.” I pull my hand through my hair. “Anyway, I need to just be normal for the day, to be allowed to grieve my uncle. I don’t want a barrage of questions about your bruised face.”
She sighs as her shoulders drop. “I get it, I do. But if you need me, you call, and I’ll be there straight away.” “Thanks. You’re a great friend.” “The best,” she informs me with a smile. “The best,” I repeat. “What are you going to do about Isaac?” Although the tears have stopped, my face is still wet, so I wipe it with the back of my hand. “I’m not sure. I think I’ll probably try to act normal around him, you know? I don’t need the questions.” “Hmmm…” is all she responds with. “Look. Let’s not talk about this right now. What’s going on with you and Noah?” Helena can’t stop the smile from forming. “He called last night. We were supposed to be going for dinner, remember?” I nod. “Well, he officially asked me out on a date.” “What did you say?” “I…” “What?” “I said yes, but I also said it would have to be in a couple of weeks.” Her eyes dart around the room. “What’s wrong?” I coax. “I kind of used the excuse of your Uncle Dane dying. I said you needed me, and that I would love to go on a date, but couldn’t right now.” My eyes widen and I bite at my nails. “Because of the bruises?”
Helena nods. “Yeah, because of the bruises.” “Well, that makes sense.” She nods and hangs her head a little. I know we’re both a little fucked up from what’s happened. Still wading through our emotions is a daily task. We were offered counselling, and Helena accepted. I didn’t. The weird thing is we never had any police question us. Some suits came around accompanied by my gentle giant, who introduced himself as Darwin. He told us they just needed our signatures on some documentation. It was a nondisclosure agreement, so we wouldn’t talk about what happened. I was shocked. I expected police and statements, maybe even a court case. I shouldn’t have been that surprised, though. Of course, the government is going to cover their arses. Although, I’m not even sure they were the actual government. “What’s wrong?” I ask softly. “Do you think we’ll get through this?” Her voice is scratchy as she pushes the question out. I throw my arms around her. “Do we have a choice?” “I guess not.” We both sit silently rocking back and forth, each caught within our own thoughts.
There’s a knock at the door, and I know it’s Toby. He’s come to pick me up. I couldn’t face the funeral alone, and since being kidnapped, he’s been my rock. Helena’s still asleep, so I straighten my waistcoat and hurry to the front door. Swinging the door open, I stumble backwards and nearly trip over my heels when it’s Isaac I see and not his brother. His arm reaches out and wraps around my back stopping me from falling. “Th-Thank y-you,” I stutter, pulling away and laying my palm flat against the wall for support. “Toby is with Mum. She needs him. Dad asked if I would come get you,” he informs me. His voice is level, clinical, and it doesn’t suit him. I stare open-mouthed at him. I shouldn’t ogle a man dressed for a funeral, but I can’t help it. He’s beautiful in the most deadly way—all sharp edges yet beguiling. “That makes sense,” I answer, trying to fill the awkward silence I created. “I-I’ll just grab my stuff.” I turn around and walk a few feet into the living room. When I don’t hear the door shut, I turn back. Isaac is still standing in the doorway. His black suit against the black shirt looks like it was made for him, and the open collar shows off his corded throat and chiselled jawline to perfection. “Come in,” I order. A cold feeling washes over me as I realise the chasm between us is growing by the day. Never before would I have had to invite him
in. He steps into the hallway and slowly closes the door. His eyes travel down my body and back up again, and I watch his throat as it pulses when he swallows. Moving to the full-length mirror, I check my reflection one last time. Black fitted trousers, a white shirt, and a black waistcoat confine my body, while my feet feel comfortable in black patent heels. I tie a sheer black ribbon around my head pushing my hair away from my face as it hangs loosely down my back. It’s early September and quite a cool morning, so I pick up my purse and collect my charcoal wool coat placing it across my forearm. There’s nothing left to do except go to the funeral, but my body doesn’t want to move, and my mind refuses to force it. “Come on. I’ve got you.” It’s the first warm words that have spilt from Isaac’s lips since he arrived. I blink up at him, and he’s there, my Isaac is there. Almost like he can read my mind, he schools his features, and his face once again becomes blank. “Let’s go,” I grind out, pushing past him, past his outstretched hand, past his bullshit. I descend the stairs before he can offer me any more soft words just to rip them away again.
My fingernails dig into the pasty skin of my arm. Apart from the tattoos, I’m so pale. If it were any other day, I’d be worried about myself. The morning chill whispers across the hairs on my arms, which all stand like little soldiers ready for battle. Encased in a brittle outer shell, my heart slows down, the thrumming heavy in my chest as grief eats me up from the inside out. My dad holds me, but Isaac’s hand running up and down my spine is the only thing I feel. The tears collect and disperse, then collect and disperse again, a rhythmical flow of sorrow journeying down my face. I’m close to my family, but the last few years I’ve wanted to step out, to be my own person and discover life. My visits home have slowed somewhat. Now I’m regretting being selfish and not spending enough time with those who love me. I glance over to my mum as she stares up at the sky, I follow her lead and look up too. The sheen of emotion coating my eyes make the outlook blurry. I can’t help but giggle at the thought, and upon doing so I gain a few disapproving stares from those random mourners you always seem to get at funerals. My whole outlook is blurry. I miss my aunt, and now I’m going to miss my uncle. My family is distraught, and I’ve not been here for them. Then there’s Isaac and the issues we share. He’s a mind
fuck all on his own. No matter how much I try to prise my emotions apart so I can make sense of them, I never seem to be able to thread them back together in any plausible way. The same thoughts run through my brain almost on a loop. Isaac kills people. Isaac doesn’t want me. I love Isaac. I love Isaac. Fuck, I love Isaac. I can’t do this anymore.
ISAAC “You’re a fully grown arsehole,” Shelly snaps, launching her cup at my head. I move my head an inch to the side, and it whistles past my ear ending its travels against the gym wall. I arch my eyebrow and look behind me. Remnants of tea are both splashed against the wall and pooling on the floor. Liberally scattered pieces of the Avengers mug— which was one of Shelly’s prized possessions— litter the floor. I turn back to Shelly. “Don’t you give me that look, Isaac James. You’re being a fucking dick, and you know it. You may be my boss, and I may be getting out…” she pauses, “… thank you for that by the way.” Her
tone is lighter, and I tip my lips up at her quick change, but then she morphs back into angry bitch. “Don’t you smile about this. You need to go and get the girl. She loves you, and you wounded her, and the fucking reason you did it was because you were hurt by her reaction to your truths.” I settle back against the machine I was using, knowing Shelly isn’t even a tenth of the way through her tirade, and I’m best just to let her continue. “Maybe if you had been honest with her, trusted she could handle your truth, that she loved you enough to deal with the person you really are, accept all of you, Isaac… all of you.” Shelly slides down the wall and hangs her head. “I have no one. I grew up with no family, nobody looking out for me. I liked one boy when I was a teenager.” She holds up her finger and whispers, “Just one, Isaac. I was only fourteen when we got together, and he looked at me like I made his world spin, the same way you look at Liv.” With a strangled sigh Shelly drops her head against the wall. “We were seventeen and got into a car wreck, Simon died.” She levels me with her eyes. “Just like that.” With a click of her fingers, she releases a single tear. “I’ve never been here, Shelly.” “Been where?” “Drowning.” “Then kick your fucking feet and remember to
breathe, Isaac… remember who you are, before you can’t anymore.” Pushing herself up from the wall, she heads toward the door. “Shelly?” I call. She stops still but doesn’t turn around. “I hate that for you. Hate that you had that. You’ve never shown interest in anyone, not until Toby.” Her shoulders tense. “He’ll look at you like you make his world spin. I know he would if you wanted to offer him the chance.” Her shoulders drop, and she continues, leaving the gym and heading back toward the house. I scrub my hand down my face and start cleaning up the broken mug on the floor. At least that’s one mess I can do something about. Once I’m done, I sit with my back against the mirrored wall and pull out my phone hitting some buttons and placing it to my ear. “Isaac?” “Does she hate me? Just be honest, Toby.” He takes a second and sighs heavily. “No, Isaac, she doesn’t hate you. That’s not the problem.” “What then?” I demand. “Shit man, she loves you, that’s the fucking problem. She loves you, and you broke her.” I feel the emotion clawing at my throat and brush my thumb over my eye. I’m surprised when I pull it away and feel moisture. “I need to fix this. I need to speak to her.” I rush out, rising from my
lingering pity party on the floor. “You can’t,” Toby tells me, sympathy in his voice. “What do you mean?” I shoot back. “She’s gone.” “What the fuck, Toby? Spit this shit out,” I growl. “Liv and Helena went on holiday yesterday. They took off to a villa in Portugal. I’m not sure how long they’ll be gone, maybe you should wait until they get back?” he replies. “Fuck that. Gotta go,” I instantly mutter. I jab at my phone again. “Control.” “This is Kane. I need a location of Olivia McKenna and Helena Todd. They would have taken a flight out of a London airport yesterday heading to Portugal. I want an exact location sent to my phone and book me on the next flight to the nearest airport from that location. Text me the details.” “Yes, sir.” I cut the call and stalk through the gym and back to the house. Most of the guys are hanging around waiting for their next assignment, deciding whether to bail or stay with a new team. Shelly is sitting in the corner, eyes firmly on the TV, her face relaying that she’s pissed off. Even though there are chairs either side of her, the men have given her a wide
berth and are balancing on the edge of the sofa arms just to stay away from her. I chuckle, and her eyes slice to me. “What the fuck have you got to smile about?” she grinds out. “I’m going to get her.” Her eyes widen, but I ignore it as I walk to my bedroom, pack a bag, and grab my passport. I leave my team and the house behind. Checking my phone, I jump on my bike and head to the airport.
The heat in Portugal isn’t stifling like it can be in England, but that doesn’t stop my top from sticking to my chest. I hurry to find the car that was booked for me and relish the air conditioning, which I put on full blast before heading to the complex. The villa Via is staying in is part of a bigger complex located in Lagos. My connections managed to secure another villa for me, within the same complex only a quarter mile away from theirs. Checking my watch, I note that it’s siesta time. Each villa is private with its own pool, so I can’t just wander over and find her. When I arrived, I spotted a bar, and after a quick shower and change, I head out there. Tourists are everywhere, and those obviously
single women aren’t backward in coming forward. I try to ignore them and instead strike up a conversation with the bartender, Marco. It’s unlike me, but I need a distraction, and if those women eyeing me think I’m gay, that works in my favour. “So, this the only bar in the complex?” I ask him, looking around and trying to get the lay of the land. “Yep, although there is a club on site, too. This place is more for the day and lazy evenings. We also provide food.” He tells me, his broken English better than my broken Portuguese. “Food?” I question. A phone behind the bar starts ringing, and he chucks me a menu as he turns to answer it. “Ola!” he greets as I turn my eye to the menu. I expect it to be all bar food—hot dogs, fries, burgers, and the like—but am impressed when I see it’s a restaurant-worthy menu. “It’s good, no?” he questions. “Yeah. I didn’t expect you to have this much selection,” I reply. He shrugs. “The tourists don’t always like to travel far, so it helps to have it on site.” “You mean they’re fucking lazy,” I reply with a chuckle. He just smiles as I grab my bottle and down my beer. I go back to watching the pool area slightly to the left of the bar until another phone call grabs my
attention. “Si, One, One, Five, Landsdown. Thirty minutes.” The address repeats in my head until I realise it’s Via’s villa address. “You do deliveries, Marco?” “Si,” he answers. I stand and throw a tip on the counter. “Adios,” Marco calls to me. I nod my head and make my way back toward the villas now I know she’s there. I’ve waited too long. I need to see her, feel her, touch her. She needs to know that I love her, no matter what, and I’ll beg her to look past my darkness. Making my way to her villa, I see lights on out the back and can hear voices, so I walk around to the back gate. I realise too late I should have knocked on the front door, I should have texted or called her first… I should’ve never got on that plane. “So what now? It’s been nearly a month since we were kidnapped. Don’t you think that you need to talk to him?” I recognise the voice as Via’s roommate, Helena. There’s a slight rustle followed by a low groan, and I step closer so I can see them both. They’re lying on a couple of sun loungers, Helena’s facing Via, but my girl is staring into the sky. She’s wearing sunglasses, but I can still see the stiffness
of her body. “You know I texted him. I wanted to make things right, but he ignored me.” “We went over this, Liv, you need to try again.” “Hel. Please stop it. He came to pick me up for Uncle Dane’s funeral.” “Fuck, he did? You didn’t mention it.” The tension washes away as Via’s body slumps on the lounger. “He was so cold, Hel. His face was blank, and when he didn’t come in without me asking him, I realised that there was such a wedge between us. Apart from giving me a little comfort at the funeral, he pretty much ignored me. He had his chance, I know it was a funeral, but he could have said something, anything. Hell, he could have asked to meet with me a week later. He did nothing, Hel, nothing.” “So, Liv? You can still fix it.” I watch as Via sits up on the lounger, swinging her lithe tattooed legs over the side and proceeds to shred my heart, which is no less than I deserve. “Honestly, Hel? His kiss with Shelly is burned into my brain. I think that was to push me away, but it killed me… it fucking killed me,” she whispers the last part, swiping her finger past her left eye. “Even after that, I texted him, gave him the chance to talk to me. He didn’t take his chance.” Via hangs her head. “I wonder if there is a reason for that. Maybe Isaac is trying to let me down gently? Or,
maybe the universe is telling me to give up.” She shrugs and raises her head again to look at Helena. “Either way, I’m done. It’s too painful, and I can’t go through it anymore. I can’t keep breaking because one day I might not recover.” Via stands gathering her bottle of water and pushing her sunglasses on top of her head. She stares at Helena with pure belief in her words. “Maybe one day Isaac James will be ready, maybe he’ll be able to give himself over to another person, to love another person completely. Hopefully, he can be honest and good, and everything a woman needs. Maybe one day, but that day isn’t today, and that person isn’t me.” In that moment, my Via disappears. Olivia McKenna morphs in front of me, and I know, without a shadow of a doubt that I’ve lost her. She’s gone… and so has my heart.
LIV ONE YEAR LATER With my black leather cap and the tiny lingerie set, I prowl on stage to ‘Weak’ by SWV. The dances are different these days. The old me would have danced to this song and slowly stripped my clothes until there was nearly nothing left covering my body. Although now I’m not wearing much, it sometimes feels restricting compared to before, and I have to admit dancing in a show has taken some getting used to, but I love it. It’s a burlesque show with a modern twist. I dance, I pick my songs, and I look sexy, but I don’t take my clothes off.
The best thing was I didn’t have to let Allegro down as this was a secondary adventure of hers, which actually turned out to be her primary one after it took off. The number of people who come to see our show is so much more than we expected it would be, and that means we’re mostly sold out. There’s something about the fact we don’t remove our clothes which suddenly makes women feel like it’s okay to come see us. We’ve gone mainstream. I giggle at my thoughts as I leave the stage. “You were fab,” Helena rushes out, greeting me at the side of the stage with Noah. “Hey, guys, what are you doing here?” I ask with a smile as I walk past them and reach for my dress slipping it over my head. Helena gave up dancing about six months ago when, sadly, her nan passed away. Then her grandad gifted a lump sum of money to her, and she opted to push forward with the tattooing and partnered up with Sam, the owner of Eternal Sin Ink. So, now she owns half of it. She and Noah have been going strong for the last year, and he and I still dance together, thankfully. I have to say, he’s become much better. “We were having a date night, and I suggested coming here to watch you and the others,” Helena explains. “Well, it’s nice to see you. I feel like we’re strangers as you’re hardly ever home these days.”
A look of guilt flashes across her face, and I frown. “You okay?” “I’m great. You free tomorrow? I thought we could have a girly night?” she questions. “Sure,” I offer. “Well, we’re done for now, we’ve seen the show. You want a ride home?” I look over the two of them, soppy in love, and I don’t want to be a third wheel. “I’m fine, thanks. I have some things to do before I leave anyway,” I tell them. “We can wait,” offers Noah, and Helena nods. I love that I have them in my life, and I know I’m lucky to have friends like these two. “No. You go, I’ll be fine,” I say with a shake of my head. “Okay, if you’re sure?” Hel questions. “Yes, go!” I smile, pushing at her shoulder. “Okay.” She laughs. “I’ll be staying at Noah’s, but I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what time I’m coming over.” I nod, and they leave. It’s not until they’ve gone that I think about her words. She’ll call and let me know what time she’s coming over? It’s her apartment, too, she has a key and a room. I guess since she spends so little time at home now, she’s forgotten. Slowly, with a heavy heart, my legs pull me toward the changing rooms. Gathering all my stuff
and packing my bag, my mind accepts what I’ve been trying not to think about. Helena is going to move out. I know why she wants a girly night tomorrow. She’s constantly at Noah’s place these days and has mentioned him decorating with her input. He loves her, and she sees her future in his eyes. I want this for them, I want this for her. I won’t be jealous, or think about… him. “You want me to call you a cab?” Hammond, one of the bouncers, asks me. “No. I’m going to call a friend. Thanks.” I pull out my phone and send a quick text. Me: Ritchie, I’m ready, if you still want to meet? I watch as the three little dots come to life on my screen telling me he’s replying. Ritchie: Be there in 5. I met Ritchie about seven months ago. He asked me out on a date, and I accepted. Helena said I needed to move on, but it was when Toby told me to let go of Isaac that I listened. However, it was pretty clear I wasn’t ready, so I called things off. We only had three dates, but I was honest with him about why I wanted to stop dating him, explaining about Isaac and how I was still hurting. Lucky for
me, Ritchie understood, but he didn’t leave my life completely. He said he was going to stick by me as a friend, and if I was ever ready for more, he would be there. I see him every so often. Yesterday he called and asked if we could meet up. I told him I was working, and he offered to collect me afterwards. I haven’t seen him for about nine weeks, which is the longest we’ve gone. I’m a shitty friend, and I know it. He always instigates our friend dates. I never call him and ask to meet up. The problem is, and will always be, Isaac. I think he broke me beyond repair. When he left, he took a piece of me with him, and without it, I’ll never be fixed, I’ll never be whole. I don’t think I’m capable of love because the piece he took was my heart. Now he’s gone again. He’s been gone for ten months. I should have expected it. Once I found out what he was, some spy, soldier, killing machine, whatever, it all slotted into place—his disappearances, his demeanour, him keeping me at arm’s length. The thing that really hurt was how he played with my heart, and how he made me believe in him, in us… again. “I could have a million women, but they’d never be you.” “Your body knows I’m in love with you, but do
you know it, too, Via?” His words still elicit pain as I recall them. They run through my head at least three times every day. I thought he meant them, more fool me. My phone beeps. Ritchie: Outside gorgeous. Ritchie’s text brings me out of my thoughts, and I make my way to the exit calling my goodbyes out to the other staff. “Hey,” I greet Ritchie with an easy smile. “Hey, you.” He turns to smile at me. His light blue eyes, scruffy blond hair and tan gives him a surfer look. He’s just under six foot tall, and because he does actually surf, his body is lean. He’s a lovely guy, and good looking, but I just can’t get into it. It’s not him, it’s everyone. “How was work?” I ask. Ritchie is an engineer, so he mostly works regular office hours except when he’s on call. “Busy today. How about your night?” he responds nodding toward the club. “Good, yeah.” I smile, and he mirrors me with his own. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he murmurs. I check my watch and see it’s a little before midnight. My flat is only ten minutes away, and even though it probably makes me sound like a
bitch, I don’t want to invite him up tonight. I’m too tired to entertain, but he asked to see me. “You wanted to see me tonight, was there a particular reason, Ritchie?” He glances across at me, worry etched into his features. “I’m sorry.” I sigh. “It’s just I’m really tired, and I did want to see you. But…” “Now you just want to go to bed?” I nod and bite my lip. “I’m so sorry, Ritchie. I don’t mean to let you down, maybe we could meet up tomorrow daytime?” I offer. He doesn’t respond verbally, but his jaw works. I enjoy the silence for the next two minutes until we pull up outside my place. “I can’t see you anymore,” Ritchie chokes out. I jerk my head, not expecting those words to come from his mouth. Shuffling, I turn my whole body in the seat so I’m facing him. “W-what?” I stutter out and cough to clear my throat. “I’m so sorry, Liv. I met someone.” Surprise knocks into me, and I smile. “That’s great, Ritchie,” I tell him honestly. He blinks and finally turns to face me fully. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” “Why would you hurt me?” “Because I can’t see you anymore.” “Oh.” His response wasn’t what I was
expecting, but I’m not sad, and that tells me everything I need to know. “Jenny knows about you, knows we dated, and I was waiting for you. Honestly, Liv, she helped me get over you.” “Get over me?” The confusion fogs my brain. He shrugs in response. “I was a little bit in love with you, Liv, but I could see you were never going to reciprocate those feelings.” I open and close my mouth, but no words form on my tongue. “When I met her, I was still hoping something would happen between us,” he says pointing back and forth between our bodies. “Slowly, over the last three months, she’s wormed her way into my heart, and I’m in love with her… she loves me back.” I clear my scratchy throat. “That’s wonderful.” “I hope you understand. She’s not comfortable with us continuing our friendship, knowing that I was in love with you.” He glances down, and I reach out to lay my hand over his, he raises his head again until our eyes lock. “I’m happy for you, and I understand. If I were in her position, I’d probably feel the same. Thank you for dropping me home. Be well, Ritchie,” I tell him before pulling my hand away and getting out of the car. Another closed door in my life. I liked our easy friendship, but I can’t blame Jenny. I’d be cautious
if Isaac spent time with someone he’d previously dated. I stop still as I climb the stairs. “Why do I still think of Isaac fucking James all the time… why do I still love him?” I speak softly to myself. “Because every part of you knows that you belong to me.” Isaac. “And I sure as fuck belong to you.” His deeply delicious voice wraps around me before I even raise my head and see him standing at the top of the stairs. I grab onto the railing as I sway, and he bounds down the stairs collecting me and pulling me up into his arms. I stare and blink and stare some more at his face as he walks up the stairs holding me. He looks no different than he did a year ago—still dark, dangerous, and determined. I can’t speak until we’re in my flat, and he places me back on my feet, and even then I have to focus on something easy. “How the fuck have you got a key to my place?” I snap. He smirks at me, the bastard. He must see my anger, though, or maybe it’s the threatening tears from the overload of emotion that’s buzzing across my skin because the smirk slips and instead, he smiles sadly. “Toby gave me his spare key, and before you rip Toby a new one, he only agreed
because I told him why I was here.” “And that would be?” I ask throwing my things on the sofa and placing my hands on my hips. “I’ve come to do anything I need to win you back, Via… anything.” His face changes, and he shares with me the vulnerable, closer to his age, honest Isaac, my Isaac. I walk past him and slam the front door shut, then walk back into the living room and shrug my coat off. “Please, Via. Give me a chance. I’ll explain everything, I’ll make it up to you.” As I turn around, he’s right there in my space. I look up at him, and my heart beats in time to a jig in my chest. My whole body vibrates, and emotion clogs my throat. “Tell me you’ll give me another chance?” Isaac pleads. His gaze holds mine as he steps even closer to me cupping my cheek and pushing his fingers into my hair. I stop breathing and think about his words, caressing me, loving me, and offering me everything I’ve ever wanted. Then my mind replays the last time he offered me the world before plucking it away from me. A cold shiver runs through my body as self-preservation kicks in, and I take a step back, a step away from him. “C-can I just say no?” It comes out in question, but I mean every word. I can’t live through the pain
again, never again. His face changes, the intensity of his stare pins me, and I clutch my chest desperately trying to drag air into my lungs. His look conveys everything I need to know before he has a chance to speak. Without blinking, his eyes alight telling me that he’s never giving up on me again. Through his fixed gaze, it feels like he’s reached inside of me and is stealing my soul from deep down in my core, pulling it from me so it can reside where it truly belongs, where it’s always belonged… with him. “I’d give you almost anything, Via, but the answer to that question is a firm no. There’s no giving in, not this time.” He threads his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me toward him until our lips are less than an inch apart. His minty breath blows across my skin with every word. “I’ve stayed away for you, I’ve come back for you, fought and almost lost you... literally. No more. I’m done with all the bullshit.” I swallow at his words and wonder what he means when he says he stayed away for me? “You and me, Via, how it always should have been. In this scenario, there is no choice. I’m telling you how it is. I’ll give you a week. Ask me your questions, however you want. Think shit through in your head, clear everything up. One week is all you have, and then I claim you.” I know he’s done speaking because his lips hit
mine, and it isn’t soft, caring, or gentle. It’s hot, passionate, and desperate as he shows me how he feels with every movement. His tongue glides over my lips, and I open up giving him the entry he demands. I’m helpless in his arms as he pushes me against the wall and kisses me like a man starved. Without warning, he pulls away, and my chest heaves as my mind tries to catch up. “One week,” he reaffirms. Then he turns and walks out of my flat.
ISAAC Twelve fucking months. Twelve months it’s taken to pull Shelly and me free of Doreen and the life we both signed up for. I thought I could drop out quietly. After that last job, I assumed my release was guaranteed. But yet again, to keep Via safe, I had no choice but to carry on. When the lies and deceit went further than anyone expected, and we found the other Black Ops team on the wrong side of our fence, something had to be done. As Via and Helena were involved and almost killed, my hierarchy decided I had to choose. Bring the girls in and interrogate
them until we knew there was nothing incriminating that they remembered. But I knew the type of interrogation they would use could scar them both for life, inside and out, and they’d been through enough. The other choice was getting them to sign a non-disclosure agreement and someone keeping a watch on them from afar. The only stipulation was that our team had to keep working. We were tasked with getting to the bottom of the internal problem, then bringing the whole structure down. Only then would we be granted our freedom. Only then would Via be truly free. I spoke to my team, and they all had my back, thankfully. Three weeks ago was our final mission. We cut down the entire operation, and both Shelly and I had our release forms signed. Kane doesn’t exist anymore, not that he has for a while now, not for me. I’m officially back to being Isaac James. I hope that’s enough, it has to be enough. “Did you talk to her?” Shelly asks coming out of the kitchen. We both have a pretty hefty nest egg now, and Shelly wants to buy her own place, but she doesn’t know where she wants to settle, so I told her to stay here for a bit. There’s no family waiting anywhere for her. I’m lucky to have people who love me. The team was Shelly’s only family, and the rest of the
guys wanted to stay on. Darwin took over leadership of the team, so they’re in good hands. “I did.” “And?” she asks, an apron on and flour over her hands and face. “Are you becoming domesticated, Shelly?” I ask with a smirk. “Fuck you, and answer my question,” she demands. “I told her she doesn’t have a choice. I’ve given her a week.” “Shit. So you didn’t go and explain anything then? You basically strong-armed your way in and told her how things were going to be?” “Pretty much,” I answer, throwing my jacket over the back of the sofa. “Isaac—” “Stop,” I order cutting her off. “I know her, okay? I know what I did, what I kept from her, and I also know what I need to do. I know what Via responds to. Don’t stick your nose into this, Shelly. Don’t.” She nods. “Sorry, it’s only that I want you to win her back, your whole life has been about her, and she has no fucking clue.” Shelly walks back into the kitchen, and I follow her to the door looking around at the mess. Reaching up to the top of the doorframe, I stretch my body out. “What the fuck are you doing in
here?” I ask, looking at the disaster before me. She shrugs and her cheeks start to pink. I’ve never, not once, seen Shelly embarrassed. “Shel?” I push. “I’m making scones.” Chuckling, I step inside the kitchen and reach out to touch one of the sticky blobs waiting to go into the oven. Shelly slaps my hand. “Don’t touch!” I grin. “You don’t eat cakes, and you definitely don’t bake. Who are these for?” “No one.” “Bullshit.” “Just leave it, Isaac.” “You poke your nose into my business, tell me who they’re for.” “Toby… they’re for Toby,” she whispers, and her usual self-assured presence disappears. “Hey, what’s up?” I question, moving closer to her. Shelly looks up at me. “There’s so much uncertainty in my life, Isaac,” she spews the words out like a release. “I have no family. Only you. I liked Toby from the moment I first saw him. But I’m basing the next part of my life on the possibility of him and me, and that’s not who I am. The trouble is, I don’t know who I am without the team, without the missions.” “Fuck,” I murmur and pull her into me. She clings on tight, and I do the same. “Shelly, you’re
like a little sister to me, and before you hit me, I mean that earnestly. Toby would be lucky to have you. I’m pretty sure he knows that, and although the two of you are very new, I want you both to be happy, and for what it’s worth, I think it will work out.” Shelly pulls away from me and goes back to the scones putting them in the oven. “We’ll see where it goes.” She shrugs like it’s all the same to her. I leave her to it and head to the gym hitting my phone as I move. “Isaac.” “Toby.” “What’s up?” “This thing with Shelly, you invested?” I ask him. My question is met with silence. “Toby?” “Why are you asking?” his voice is laced with suspicion. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Toby. Shelly has been part of my team for years. I know her, and I care about her like a little sister. You’re my brother, and I love you. I would love nothing more than for the two of you to live golden. I know where her head’s at, I’m asking where’s yours?” “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know I like her. I’m aware she’s been through stuff I’ll never understand. I also know she has no one, so I’m not in this to fuck it up.”
“Good.” “What about Liv? Where you at with her?” he returns, and I smile to myself. “I’ve told her where we’re at, now she just needs to get her head on right,” I offer. “So you didn’t speak soft, you didn’t go in calm and slow and ask for some of her time? You bulldozed your way in…” “You think she’d expect anything different from me? You think if I pussyfooted around her she’d think I was serious?” “Point made,” he concedes. “So what’s your plan?” “Well, I need to make a statement to her. To the family. One week I said, so next Saturday at Mum’s birthday.” “Is that really the place to do it?” I shrug even though he can’t see it. “Our family loves us. If they see fit to be angry or go against this, then I don’t need them in my life. Mum and Dad know how I feel, they support us. Uncle Dane and Aunt Libby are gone now, no one’s looking to lose more family.” “True.” “Right, I have to go. When you see Shelly later, pretend you like scones, okay?” “Erm, sure,” Toby answers confused. “Later,” I return and cut the call. I’m giving Via her week. I’m hoping she asks me
any questions she wants answers to, but either way, next weekend I’m claiming her for good, forever.
LIV “So, pizza?” Helena asks walking through the door. “Mmm… smells lush,” I reply as my tummy groans in agreement. We sit side by side on the sofa and scoff through the whole large Hawaiian pizza and obsess over two episodes of Sons of Anarchy before I can’t take the tension anymore. “Okay, spill,” I spit out turning to face her. “What?” she asks wincing. “We both know you’re here to tell me something, you’re moving in with Noah, right?” Helena crinkles up her nose. “Yeah,” she mutters. I pull her body into mine giving her a hug. “It’s okay,” I whisper before pulling back. “I thought you’d be pissed at me.” “Why?” “Because… I don’t know.” She shrugs “You’re a nutcase.” We both giggle, and the tension dissipates.
“You can afford this place by yourself? If not, I can stay until you find another roommate,” she offers. “No. I can afford it.” I smile. “Good.” Helena takes a sip of her lemonade and smiles. “So, what’s new in your life?” “Isaac’s back,” I blurt out the words. Since his visit last night, or more precisely the early hours of this morning—after which I had little sleep—my brain has been on overdrive. “What?” she exhales. I nod. “Yeah.” “How… what… explain!” I grin, but it quickly drops off. “He wants me back, but I’m not sure I can ride that rollercoaster, not again.” “Don’t dismiss him, babe. There may be plausible reasons for all of his behaviour.” I purse my lips, but say nothing in response. “More SOA?” she asks, and I nod. I need to forget about him, at least for now.
The music swallows me up, and I close my eyes while Sia sings ‘Elastic Heart,’ the movements I make are emotion filled, and I want to cry. I want to believe him… but how can I? Spinning, I
suddenly lose my footing and fall. “Liv!” Toby shouts, rushing from the bench he was sitting on across the room. “Shit, are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m fine,” I say standing up and brushing myself down. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he urges, grabbing my wrist. “You know what,” I say ripping my arm free. “Isaac?” “Obviously,” I snark. “You know he’s back for good, right?” he states. My breath catches and my chest aches. “No, I didn’t.” “Did you ask him?” I shake my head looking away from the judgement shining in his eyes. “Did you ask him anything?” “No,” I groan. “Oh, Liv. He told you to ask whatever you wanted and yet you’ve not had one question?” I sink back down to the floor and cross my legs like a school child. “I didn’t want to wonder if he was going to be honest or not. He’s broken my heart twice now, Toby. I won’t survive a third time,” I admit. “I get it,” he says, and I look up as he lowers himself to sit opposite me, his legs out straight in front of him. “I do, honestly.”
I smile sadly but say no more. Since I’ve seen Isaac, he’s been the only thing on my mind. This visit hasn’t left room in my head for processing much else, not even enough to text him one single damn question. “Ask me.” “Huh?” I rub my eyes, deflation making my body droop. “What do you want to know? I’ll try and answer if I can. But I have to let you know that I will tell Isaac later. I’m not giving you answers to drop him in it. I’m giving them so you can hopefully see how much he loves you.” “He loves me?” “Oh, come on, Liv, you know he does.” I nod. “Okay, what I mean is, he loves me enough?” “Enough for what?” he questions, a frown appearing across his forehead. “To be honest? With me, with our family… with himself?” “Yep.” “Okay.” I want to believe it to be true, but Isaac has never been keen to talk to our family about the two of us, and on top of that, it took him years to admit how he felt about me. Toby sighs. “I can’t make you see the truth, you just have to have a little faith… you have to believe in him.”
His words hit home. I once believed his words. For years he could have told me the sky was animated—put there to convince us of our earthly existence—and I would have taken his words as gospel. He broke my faith and my trust, and now I don’t even know if I can even believe in myself. “What’s really going on with Shelly and him?” Toby’s face changes, jealousy clouds his eyes, and I frown. “He loves her like a little sister. She has no family, and she’s been one of his team members for years.” “Team members,” I murmur, pinching my bottom lip between my finger and thumb. “Yeah. You know he was Black Ops, right?” The confusion must be obvious because Toby sighs. “Okay, let me start from the beginning. I pray that Isaac doesn’t break my neck for this.” Pulling my arms around myself, I hold my body, needing a little comfort. “When Isaac beat up Charlie, your old boyfriend, he went to prison.” I nod, knowing that story well. “He was offered a place on a Black Ops team. It was a deal he was given.” “A deal?” I question. “That’s right. You see he came back for your birthday, but he was going to join Black Ops anyway. When he got charged and arrested, it put a spanner in the works. Your boyfriend, Charlie, the
one going to the local university and seemingly living normally with three other guys in that house… yeah, not only was he a little prick, but he was the son of a bigger prick, some foreign dignitary.” “Oh my God!” I gasp, my hand automatically shooting to cover my mouth. “He never talked about his family,” I mumble through my fingers. Toby shrugs. “Isaac signed up like he had always planned, they had headhunted him so no matter what he had done, they still wanted him. But there were two conditions.” “Which were?” Toby rubs his forehead and sighs. “He had to go overseas, away from his family and commit completely to his team and his handler,” he pauses and stares at me, looking for something—a crack maybe? “And two?” I push. “He wasn’t allowed to have any contact with you. None.” All the air leaves my lungs, and I choke and cough trying to breathe. It’s like someone has poked me with a cattle prod, and at the same time, I feel like I’m in a beautiful dream. He never hated me. He never hated me. I can’t stop the tears as the swell of emotion attacks me.
“Why?” I brokenly ask. “Charlie was a dick, even after Isaac nearly killed him. He was threatening to come back, to force himself into your life again. Isaac had only one demand of his own before joining the team, which was your safety. Charlie had to stay away, but in turn, Charlie insisted that the only way he would agree, was if Isaac had no contact with you either. It was spiteful, but I guess lying in traction unable to move can make a guy bitter. So he communicated that little nugget. His dad made it so.” My shoulders shake as the rest of my body trembles. “He wasn’t avoiding me?” “No, sweetheart. He wasn’t avoiding you. He made me keep him up to date with everything that was you throughout all the years.” “Toby...” my voice breaks as my heart shatters with my pain, Isaac’s pain, our love, and the resolution that’s just settled in my heart, “… he left again after he rescued me,” I say through the river of tears. “Yeah, he wanted out of Black Ops. He wanted to give you a normal life, Liv, a good, clean life. The only way they would let him out after you were kidnapped was to take him away again. He had to do things, stuff he won’t talk to me about. But now he’s out, and he’s come back… for you.”
“For me.” “For you, Liv. All for you.” “He said I have a week to get my head straight. That was Saturday… it’s Wednesday now. I have to ask, did he send you Toby?” “No, Liv. But I love you, and I love my brother. His love for you is bigger than everything else to him. You’re more important to Isaac than even his own life. I just want to help if I can,” he explains with an offhand shrug. “You have… really. I need to go and think about everything,” I say standing and grabbing my bag. “I understand. Go and do your thing, but Liv?” Toby says still sitting on the floor. I turn back to look at him. “Make the right decision.” I turn and walk out, my mind a complete jumble.
ISAAC “Happy birthday, Mum,” I say, leaning in and kissing her cheek. “My boy, my eldest. The best present I’ve had this birthday is you coming home,” her voice trembles with emotion. I turn her toward my dad, and he smiles at me over her shoulder. I talked to him this week. Explained what I was going to do tonight. My parents have always supported me, no matter how scared, unsure, or against it they were. The venue for tonight is the local town hall. It’s an old building with high ceilings and ornate décor. The hall is big and up on the stage is a DJ booth
with two microphones for karaoke. There are a lot of people here tonight—family, friends, and wellwishers—all to help celebrate Mum’s birthday. Toby and Shelly sit at one of the tables chatting away. I hope like fuck they can make this work. Helena and Noah are dancing, and I wonder where Via is. I would have expected her to arrive with Helena or even Toby. Aunt Pea and Uncle Con are here, too, so she’s not arriving with them. Frowning, I reach into my inside pocket feeling for my phone and bringing it out as I head for the door leading to the gardens out back. Just as I step outside and bring the phone to my ear, I hear her— Via. She’s singing. Her voice rises above everything and everyone, or maybe they’ve all gone quiet, surprised at her tone. She’s magnificent, but then I already knew she could sing. The first few words ring out, and I place the song—Alicia Keys ‘If I Ain’t Got You.’ Everything stills around me, and all I can hear is my heart beating and her voice. “Fuck me,” I murmur, my words catching in the middle. Cutting the call, I slip the phone back in my pocket and stiffly walk back inside. Everyone is still like they’ve been frozen in time, but as I take a quick glance around, I see the amazement on their faces and the tears in the eyes of some, especially her mum. My eyes move back to Via, and I realise she’s singing to me. There must be a hundred people in this room, but her eyes are only for me.
I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to make a grand gesture. She’s fucked up my statement in the most perfect way possible. With every word, she explains how she feels about me, and that, coupled with her voice, only makes me want to hold her—to be the man she thinks I am. The song finishes, but her eyes don’t leave mine. Applause roars all around me, but I don’t move my eyes from her. She blinks, seeming to come out of her haze, then stepping back, she bumps into a stool, and I lose her eyes. Before she can escape completely off stage, I jump the four feet up to the platform and grab the mic. “I can’t sing,” I state, and I watch her back as she retreats. At my words, she freezes, the tenseness in her body keeps her spine rod like. I continue talking, looking at her rather than the audience who are still silently waiting for my revelation. “I’ll never be able to bless your ears with a perfect rendition of ‘Your Guardian Angel’” by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.” My eyes move to the crowd. “For those of you not familiar, you should listen to that song. And for Via…” I say moving my eyes back to her. “You should know my heart is in those words, that song… I swear it was written to explain how I feel about you, baby.” She still doesn’t turn to me, so I once again look at my audience wondering what reaction I’m
receiving from my family. Apart from a couple of surprised-looking faces, no one seems angry. “The thing is, I’ve loved Via forever. Not one day in my life has passed without her being on my mind, in my heart, and my reason for getting through the day.” I hear a quiet sob and look back to Via. She’s facing me now and even with the constant trail of tears, she’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. “I’ve lived my whole life for you. I know Toby told you, and I can’t talk about it here…” I say gesturing to the room, “… but I don’t regret a single action I took. I’ll always protect you, I’ll always put you first, and I’ll always love you. You’re my forever, for always.” Dropping the mic, I take a tentative step toward her. “I know you have a wall built up now, and it’s of my own creation, but I can promise you, Via, the pain I caused you, I’ve felt it to my bones probably ten times worse than you, and I’m sorry.” Moving another step, I bring my hand up to her face rubbing the back of my hand down her cheek, wiping away the tears. “I’m sorry. Forgive me, baby,” I whisper. I need her to decide, it has to come from her. Via looks up at me, her long lashes sprinkled with tears and her face blotchy from crying. Slowly she tells me her answer. Leaning into me, going up on tiptoes, she presses her soft, parted lips against
mine. My heart bursts as though flames lick through my insides, and I want to cry with happiness. I yearn to pull her to me, to devour her, but I’m mindful of where we are, so reluctantly I pull away. “I know we have a lot to talk about, but I’m all in, baby. It’s you and me, Via. Tell me you’re all in, too,” I whisper to her, our eyes locked, and our faces nearly touching. “I’m all in, Isaac.” She gives me the sweetest four words I’ve ever heard, and my chest swells.
LIV “Come on,” Isaac says grabbing my hand as I get out of his car. The party tonight has changed my life, but I’m scared to believe it’s real, I keep thinking I’ll wake up at any minute, home and alone. I slip my hand into his, and he squeezes it. Following him toward his front door, my mind catches up, and I stop, tugging back on his hold. “Via?” “Is, is Shelly in there?” I hold up my other hand before he answers. “Look, I know you’re just friends, well more like family, and I like her, but this is our first night, and it needs to be just you and
me tonight. My place is empty,” I explain. “Shelly’s with Toby tonight. I made sure we’d be alone.” He smiles down at me. I raise my eyebrow. “Thinking you were going to get lucky?” I tease. Since he told the whole party how he felt about me, we haven’t had much time to talk, but I’m not sure we have much to clear up now. From what Toby told me coupled with Isaac’s honesty, I think I know all I need to. Tonight we’ve danced, we’ve kissed, we’ve behaved like a normal couple and all the years, all the pain, all the misunderstandings have melted away. I know there will always be more to discuss, more to communicate and to be sure of, but not tonight… tonight I want to communicate with him in an altogether different way. Isaac stops at my words and hooks me under my armpits, lifting me up and turning, pinning me to the wall next to the door. Holding me up like this means our heads are level, and as he stares directly into my eyes, his lips moan against mine. “Tonight, tomorrow, the rest of my life… I’m already lucky.” “I love your soft talk, baby, I do.” Pushing our mouths even closer, I’m touching my lips to his, so every word I utter he feels. “But right now, I want more than soft, I want hard,” I tell him smiling. I wait a beat feeling his breath on my mouth, the movement of his chest against my own.
“Fuck, yeah,” he murmurs, and suddenly throwing me up in the air, his hands pull away from my armpits, and he places them under my arse drawing me back tight to him. He nuzzles my throat kissing and biting. “Fuck, yeah, I’ll give you hard.” The desire ramps up and his mouth is on mine, plundering, loving, owning me. I can feel the brickwork of the wall scratching my back and digging into my shoulder blades, but the sting only adds to the desire I already feel. His tongue sweeps inside and connects with mine—the touch is like an electric spark which shoots straight between my legs. One of his hands travel from my arse, up my side, and he grips the back of my neck, pulling me closer, fusing our mouths together as though I’m his life force. I feel him move as we kiss, and my back is pulled away from the wall. I take a split second to wonder how he’s navigating us while kissing me, but I just don’t care enough to think the answer through. Absently I hear a click, and we’re moving again. Then there’s the slam of a door, and after a few more steps we start rising. I drag my lips from his. “Where are we going?” I pant out. I feel his lips near my ear. “You wanted hard… I’m doing as I’m told, baby.” A salacious smile spreads across my face. I bounce as Isaac drops me on what I assume is his bed. He kneels between my legs and stares
down at me. “You okay?” I whisper. He blinks, and his mouth curves in a delicious smile. “I’m perfect.” I look down his body and back up to meet his eyes. “Yes. Yes, you are,” I tell him. At my words, fire ignites in his eyes, and he pulls his top off. I let my gaze eat up the planes of his chest and the cut of his abdomen. Stretching my fingertips, I scrape my nails down his naked upper half. He hisses as I make contact, and that reaction zings through me. With a groan, I drag my hand away and move to my dress which has buttons all the way down the front. Slowly, teasingly, I undo each button. Isaac watches, his eyes glued to my hands moving down my body. Once I finish, I take my hands away and place them palm down on the bed each side of my body. I may have unbuttoned my dress, but I want Isaac to be the one to pull it off, to unveil me. Before we left the party, I used the bathroom. I made a small adjustment to my clothing… for him. A muscle in Isaac’s jaw pulses as his stare moves the length of me. “What are you waiting for?” I taunt. His eyes flick up to mine, and he grins, devilishly. “Trying not to rip your clothes and take you so hard that I can’t have you again for three days. It’s been a while for me, Via.”
“Me, too,” I confess, the tone changing. “You were my last,” he admits, and I feel like crying. Strangely, whenever I’d imagined Isaac over the last year, he’d never been alone. Now I know he was, now I know he was waiting for me. “I love you,” the words spill out before I have a chance to stop them. His look changes, his hand closes in on my face, and his thumb tenderly caresses my mouth. “You’re my forever, for always.” Leaning down, he touches my mouth. “For always, Via.” I can’t stop the tear that springs free, but Isaac kisses it away. Slowly, he clutches either side of my dress in his hands and pulls it open revealing my naked body underneath. “You stripped bare for me?” he questions without tearing himself from staring at my body. “I did, just before we left the party, I wanted to do something for you.” Isaac grabs my hand and places it over his jeans and his bulging dick. “You do something to me naked or not, Via. You always have.” His voice is raspy, and I tug at the buttons of his jeans. He moves away from me, and I whimper at the loss of contact. Isaac smirks down at me and finishes unbuttoning his jeans, pulling them off and revealing his naked form. I swallow and lean up onto my elbows divesting myself of my dress one arm at a time. I lay back down completely naked
matching my man. “I’m on the pill,” I tell him, wanting to feel his skin against mine in every way. “I’m clean,” he replies. “I trust you,” I admit, a rawness in my tone. Isaac closes his eyes for a moment like my words have saved him. “I love you,” he breathes out. “I know.” And I do. Finally, I really do. He places his open palm at my throat and looks down at our connection. Then dragging his hand down my body, he shows attention to every inch of my skin that he can reach before finding his way between my legs. Slipping his fingers inside me, I gasp. He claims my mouth again as his fingers stroke me until I can feel my climax just out of reach. “Isaac, I need to feel you,” I cry out as my muscles lock tight. He grins, his eyes hooded and just like that, his fingers pull out, and in one motion his dick fills me. “Ahhh,” I moan, biting down on my bottom lip. Every part of us is touching, he’s melded to me. As he kisses me again, his tongue ravaging my mouth, he moves his length in and out of me, slowly, exquisitely, possessing me, loving me. He doesn’t give me hard and soft, fast and slow. He doesn’t fuck me, no… he makes love to me. Isaac James shows me why it’ll always be me for him. As
we crest the wave of our orgasms together, he proves his words that I’m his forever, for always. Isaac shifts us, so he’s lying on the bed, and he pulls me on top of him. He swipes the sticky, damp hair from my cheek and kisses me softly on the forehead. “You gave it all up for me,” I say softly. “I’d give up my life for you, Via. You have to know that by now.” “I do,” I tell him honestly. “I believe in you, I always will.” His eyes watch me, looking for something. Then he smiles. It’s beautifully breathtaking, and my heart aches—in such a good way—as it swells, more than I thought possible, with my love for him. “I believe in us,” he replies. And I know, from here on out, we’ll be okay.
ISAAC I never knew life could be this sweet. The day I was placed with Mum and Dad is still burned into my brain. I was six, but I wasn’t stupid. My parents saved me then. For five years I lived my life making sure Via was safe… saving her. A year ago today, my life finally started when she saved me. “Do you know what you want?” Helena asks arching her eyebrow at Via, there seems to be a story there. Via looks at me and winks. “So, a while ago I wanted a tattoo that Helena temporarily talked me out of getting. Then you came back into my life, and things got a little… crazy for a while.”
I grind my teeth remembering her being kidnapped, but she soothes me instantly by pushing her dainty hand in my large one. “It slipped my mind, and so to Helena’s delight, I never got it done.” “Yes, it was a stupid tattoo and not right for my best friend,” she states with her hands on her hips. I look between the two and decide not to ask what it was. “Anyway, I know what I want.” Helena nods at Via’s statement, and that’s my cue. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, baby, okay?” I murmur, leaning down and kissing her hard on the mouth. “Mmm,” she purrs back, and I can’t help but chuckle.
Two hours later and with all my errands run, I head back to pick up my girl. My anniversary present to Via was her tattoo. What she doesn’t know is I got Helena to tattoo me last week. Luckily, as the new career path I chose was to be a gardener, when she asked about my bandage, I said that I had been attacked by a stray bush. She thought that was hilarious and hasn’t commented on it again. This morning, before my shower, I finally removed the
bandage ready to show her later. “Hey, all done?” I ask, walking into Eternal Sin Ink and seeing Via and Helena chatting on the sofas at the front of the shop. She looks up at me and smiles huge. This is what makes me tick, I live for her smiles. “All done.” “See you later,” Helena calls as we leave. “So, what do you want to do?” Via asks, pouting and looking up at me with hooded eyes. “Well, it’s obvious what you want. Shall we go home and have lunch before our meal out with the family tonight?” “Yes,” she replies excitedly, and I chuckle. I moved in with Via a couple of months after we got together. The house I lived in held too many memories of being alone and of me becoming Kane to continue living there. Plus, my lies about Shelly and me as a couple and us living in that house together held too many memories for Via. So, I sold it and moved in with my girl. One day, we’ll buy somewhere bigger, but for now, it’s perfect for us. The moment we’re in the flat, I start tearing her clothes off until she’s naked—only a square white bandage covers her hip. “Come on, take yours off.” She gestures to me. I slip my jeans and socks off, my boxers going with them, and I watch as she licks her lips unaware of her movements. I stand still for a second and then
reach behind my back grabbing my top and dragging it over my head. Her voice catches, her hand covers her mouth, and her eyes shine with teary happiness. She takes a step forward and touches my tattoo with her fingertips. “You did this?” I shrug. “It belongs to you.” “For me,” she whispers to herself. Via lays her hand flat over the tattoo on my chest like a shield across my heart. Underneath her palm is my tattoo. It’s a simple feather. Inscribed through the centre is the word Via. Not Olivia, not Liv, but Via… only mine. Above the feather, it says My Forever and underneath are the words For Always. “Oh my God!” she shouts, making me take a step back in confusion as she pulls her bandage away from her hip. “Careful,” I order. Smiling up at me, she teases. “Not my first tattoo, new boy.” I laugh, but it gets caught in my throat when I see the design. Across her hip is a birdcage, the door is open, and a bird flies free from it. Above the cage are the words—Love is forever, for always. Now it’s my turn to feel like my breath has been sucked from me. Gently, she grasps my hand. “You gave me your
love and made me believe in forever, for always,” she whispers. I’m naked, she’s naked, but at this moment, there’s something else I’m thinking about. I reach down to my jeans, which lay crumpled on the floor, and pull the small blue box from my pocket. “What is t-that?” she stutters. I don’t answer her. Instead, I open the box and pull out the platinum ring holding a black diamond and slip it on her finger without saying a word. “Is this… I-Is…” Her words fade away. “This is me securing my forever, for always. You can say yes, baby, but honestly, I’m not giving you a choice, you’re mine, Via.” She looks down at the ring and then back up into my eyes, emotion covering every inch of her face. “Yes, forever,” she whispers the words out. Via’s agreement affects me more than I expect. Immediately, I grab her naked body, throwing her on the bed. The control in me has almost slipped completely, and she shivers with anticipation. “Hard or soft, baby?” I ask. “Hard,” she murmurs. “Yes, ma’am,” I reply.
The years slipped through open fingers as their paths travelled different directions, they forever held onto the love that was created as children. Years later he saved her, finally, she returned the favour. -Maria Macdonald
Toby and Shelly’s story will be coming in Book Two
Zayn – Pillowtalk SWV – Weak Selena Gomez – Nobody Coldplay – Hymn For The Weekend Adele – Send My Love (To Your New Lover) Three Days Grace – I Hate Everything About You Papa Roach – Scars Sigma – Nobody To Love Parachute – The Mess I Made John Mayer – Gravity Ella Henderson – Beautifully Unfinished Des’ree – I’m Kissing You All That Remains – What If I Was Nothing Janet Jackson – Anytime, Anyplace Janet Jackson – Again Lady Gaga – A Million Reasons
Clean Bandit – Rockabye Madonna – Borderline Red Jumpsuit Apparatus – Your Guardian Angel Justin Bieber – Fall Aretha Franklin – Ain’t No Way Sia – Elastic Heart Alicia Keys – If I Ain’t Got You Saliva – Always Justin Timberlake – My Love
I’m sure I’ll forget someone. Please, if I do forget you, don’t hunt me down and put chilli powder in my knickers! My family – As always you’re in my corner, and I couldn’t do this without your support. You will always be the centre of my heart, and the centre of my world. I will love you forever and then some. To Kay from Swish Design & Editing – Thank you for everything you do for me, including the amazing formatting in all my books. To Give Me Books – Especially Jo. You’ve been there every step of the way with Twisted Truth, I
couldn’t have asked for more. Thank you. To my Misfits – You’re a constant source of love, and I love you all right back. To my review team – Thank you for taking the time to read and review my books. It means so much! My betas – What can I say? You have my back. Always. You’re my tribe. Yvonne Eason – You’re the best PA in the world, but you’re an even better friend. I love you, I hope you’re happy that Isaac’s book is dedicated to you. XoXo Laura Nelson – Like I’ve said before, you’re my girl, I love everything about you. Morgan Terry – My heart is your heart. Period. I know this is repetition, but that doesn’t make it any less true! Klaire Sutherland – I know I’ve said it before, but you’re the voice in my head. I wouldn’t feel like my book was complete without your feedback. You have, as always, gone above and beyond and I love you lady. Beth Lemilliere – As always, I butterflying love you lady, thank you for always loving my characters. Kerry Adamson – Thank you for always loving
every single one of my men. And for being a great friend. Stacey Tester – You make me smile, always, thank you for pushing me with every book. Emma Precious White – Thank you, as always, for all your support lovely lady. Johnaka McCosker – We’ll always have love notes and I’ll always be your British whore. Love you forever and ever. – Oh and Coby will be yours, I promise. Karen Bill –Thank you for being such a lovely person and fab friend. Emma Louise – Thank you once again, for your amazing teasers, your feedback, your support and mostly your friendship. A big thank you to Mary Ruth for my amazing teasers once again. A special thank you to Nadine Keedy, who always pimps my books! Thank you to Simone Owens for the fab teasers she makes for my books. To my author friends – May your writing seat never be on fire. Hoping you never have fat fingers, and that the social media fairies are forever kind. As always, support and love is the way forward. I’m always here if you need me. Thank you for supporting me.
To all the bloggers – I bow to you. Thank you. If you need something just ask me. Support goes two ways. To every single reader – I’ve said it all before, you make it possible for me to live this dream. Thank you isn’t enough, there never will be enough words.
Thank you for reading Twisted Truth. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review at your point of purchase and on Goodreads. It means a lot to me to hear what you think. Also, feel free to join my street/reader group —Click Here Check these links for more books from Author Maria Macdonald.
Goodreads Links Click on the links below to add to your TBR list. Love Reflection - An Entwined Hearts Novel Book 1 Love Resisted - An Entwined Hearts Novel Book 2
Love Renewed—An Entwined Hearts Novel Book 3 Love Reunion – An Entwined Hearts Christmas Novella Book 3.5 Finally Unbroken—Finally Unbroken Series Book 1 What’s Left of Me—Finally Unbroken Series Book 2 Chrysalis: The Emergence of Emery Dazed
Amazon Links Love Reflection—An Entwined Hearts Novel Book 1 Love Resisted—An Entwined Hearts Novel Book 2 Love Renewed—An Entwined Hearts Novel Book 3 Love Reunion – An Entwined Hearts Christmas Novella Book 3.5 Finally Unbroken—Finally Unbroken Series Book 1 What’s Left of Me—The Finally Unbroken Series Book 2 Chrysalis: The Emergence of Emery—The Gifted Series Book 1 Dazed
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Maria Macdonald is a full-time working mum. She has two beautiful daughters, both of whom love books as much as she. She has loved writing since she was a little girl. Reading and loving books, as well as blogging, has inspired her to write and publish. Maria, her husband, and children now reside in Wiltshire, England.