“Fuck it!” He charges toward me without slowing and sweeps me up into his arms, pulling my legs around his waist and thrusting us both into the wall. It thumps against my back just as Aiden claims my lips. His kiss is fevered, rushed, desperate. His mouth is demanding, but I give myself over freely to his kiss and the thick heat of his tongue. He kisses me until I’m glad he’s holding me upright and then his lips are gone from my mouth and come to restin the hollow of my throat. The sensation is thrilling. His wet lips pressing sweetly against sensitive skin. I raise my head to offer him more of my throat, but instead of taking more, he sighs. His warm breath pebbles my skin.
“I couldn’t leave without doing that, even though I know you’re not ready and my timing sucks. I just want you to think of me and not discount me while I’m gone.” He leans back and the sheepish grin he wears looks like trouble. “Don’t worry. They’re natural born survivors, remember?” he says, rallying me as though he knows exactly what I’ve been fretting over.
And yeah, I remember. They are. They’ll be fine. Me on the other hand—
“I need you to keep the boss man safe. Get out of here as soon as we’ve cleared the street,” Aiden adds. I sense he’s trying to refocus me, giving me a sense of purpose now that he’s driving mine to God-knows-where, or does he actually expect me to watch over Dax?
The man in question pats Aiden on the back and mutters something aboutno time left for goodbyes.
Dax and I stand as one, watching Aiden get swallowed up by the car. Dax grabs for my fingers again and links them gently with his, careful to protect my palms. We listen as Aiden turns over the engine. I squeeze Dax’s hand a little tighter when Aiden puts his foot on the gas and leaves Dax and I alone in the silent house.
We lock up, pack up Dax’s car, and get out of the driveway in less than ten minutes. Except, instead of getting the hell out of dodge, Dax draws up to a dingy-looking house at the end of the street and pulls us into the driveway before killing the engine. We can see Carlo’s house from where we sit, and we wait in silence for what happens next.
Three cars round the corner only five minutes after we park. Hulking, great off-roaders with black-on-black styling, tinted windows, and undoubtedly bullet-proof everything. I held a slim hope that we’d got it wrong, but the men pouring into Carlo’s house confirm Eric knew all about Carlo and that he’d ratted him out, too. No great surprise, but still a massive disappointment. This means coming back home isn’t a possibility. Not until we’ve somehow cleared Eric’s debt with Franz or broken his deal.
We watch until the cars pack up and leave, black smoke billowing out of every window on the front side of the house. I feel sick.
“We should have taken his Harley. Had someone drive it tostorage or something. He’s just lost everything he owns.”
“Carlo signed everything over to Trevainne this evening. House, bar, and bike included.”
“Why?”
“Because it gave him the money he needs to start again, and it means the losses are Trevainne’s, not his.”
“But you didn’t know this would happen.”
“No, but the second Diverprop’s lawyers showed up for Eric, we suspected it might come to this. We gave Carlo a choice. He could stay and front it out with our help, or he could get his family safe. He chose to go if it came to the crunch, and he knew that meant leaving any traces of himself behind…bike included.” Dax pulls out his phone and dials the emergency services. Tipping the Fire Brigade off to the blaze now lighting up the sky. He gives them the address and hangs up without giving them his name.
“They’d trace the registration…” I mumble, realising why Carlo would give up his precious bike. Dax nods. I find my voice and say words I suspect I’ll be saying again and again. “Thank you.”
“It’s our job. We actually do this sort of thing all the time. There are people who want out and we help them do it. We buy up their property here in Harrison, even the unsellable Vale properties and we rebuild and renew. I’d have offered this kind of deal if Carlo was a client, so no need to thank me.”
“Still, you’ve saved my family without even batting an eye. You’ve known us mere days and you’ve done more for us than anyone.” I think about how stuck we were only days ago…hell, hours ago. Eric had us trapped and within a day, Dax and his people have cut us all free. I still can’t believe Eric knew about everything going on behind his back.“I mean, if Eric knew about Mum and Carlo, why hadn’t he done something about the affair before?”
“Are you asking me or talking out loud?” Dax asks.
“It’s a really bad habit I’m noticing about myself,” I respond. To my relief, he pumps the pedal and pulls away from the curb. “I’m thinking about Eric and why he only did something about Carlonow? Plus, there’s still something else he’s offered to Franz. Even selling out Carlo doesn’t quite cover it. You know?”
“I know. We’ll figure it out and there are lots of reasons Eric might have kept his mouth shut until now. For a start, he had your mother terrorised. She knew any of you were at risk of a beating at any time. He kept her without cash to live on, no matter enough to leave him. He kept tabs on the boys and your mother told me he’d never let her leave him alive. He threatened to kill you all. She believed him, and I think she was right to.”
“You think he would have? He loves those boys. He’s bargained with Franz for the boys.”
“No. Eric knows possession, not love. Having custody of the twins is about hurting your mum and keeping her by his side.” I have to admit, for only meeting Eric once, he had him figured out.
“So why do this?” I lean back into my seat and stare out of the window at the buildings whizzing by. It seems strange to think of all the people going about their lives when mine is rupturing at the seams.
“We forced his hand. You walked out of there with the kids and took away his control over your mother. Eric is a coward, but he is also an opportunist. Franz is one way to get what he wants. What I don’t get is how Franz found out about you in the first place.” Dax quietens.
“Could Franz have questioned the paramedics?”
“Yes, but none of them even spoke to you, and they’d mostly left by the time I got your name out of you. Reba Johnson, the head paramedic who hung around after, is one of our people. But she and everyone else had left when I eventually asked for your name.”
“You’re sure?”
“One hundred percent. I remember every second of that night. From what we have uncovered, all Franz had was your first name, and that you lived in the Tower. Not enough to pinpoint you as Eric’s daughter, unless he worked it out via voting register? That’s possible, I guess, but I’m more inclined to think the blame lies witha mole in my organisation.”
I guess that would make sense. That’s public information, after all. And it wouldn’t be hard to trace me back to the university from there, either.
