“Fuck,” Scott muttered.  “Uncle Dan.  Haven’t seen him in ten years.”

“How the hell did you not know he was Blue?”

“I never called him that growing up.  Must be Mum’s nickname for him.  Red hair and all.”  He paused before adding, “Why are you telling me this?  I heard you were out, brother.”

Brother.

“I was, but I’ve reconsidered.”

“Thank fuck, Blade.  Shit’s going down in the club at the moment with divided loyalties.  We need to expose Marcus and get that support back before we take him out.”

“Is he still spreading shit about you?”

“Yeah, but at least some of the guys have a fucking brain and can see through him.  Just need to get the rest of them to see it.”

“What’s the split at the moment?”

“About sixty to forty, I’d say.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” he muttered.

“We need to find Blue and get him to come back.  I’ll protect him until we sort Marcus out.”

“I saw the results of your run-in with Marcus.  Good job, brother, but thank fuck you stopped.”

We talked a bit more and then ended the call, and I contemplated what had been said.

It was the longest conversation I’d ever had with my brother.

***

At exactly five o’clock, I walked through the front door to Layla’s.  She was at the bar serving customers.  I looked around and realised she had about double the number of customers in here that she usually had.  Narrowing my eyes on the far corner, I also took in the band she had playing.  Live music.

As I walked to her, she looked up, and I caught her eye.  I also caught the rapid rise of her chest when she saw me. And the bite of her lip.

I waited at the other end from where she was serving, and once she’d finished with her customers, she came to me.  Leaning across the bar, she pressed a quick kiss to my lips.

I shook my head when she pulled away.

“What?” she asked.

“I didn’t come for a kiss,” I said, my eyes firmly on hers.

Her heated gaze told me she’d been waiting for five o’clock.  “I know,” she breathed out, “but I’m too busy to leave the bar.”

She was right, but fuck, I was a greedy bastard.  I needed to find her a lot more fucking staff members.  “Go back to your customers.  I’ll be waiting.”

“Do you want to wait upstairs?”

“Yeah.”

I pushed off from the bar and headed upstairs after one last look at her.  She was wearing a short denim skirt tonight.  I’d never seen her in a skirt, and fuck, I never wanted to see her in anything but a fucking skirt from now on.

I climbed the stairs slowly.  Exhaustion still owned me, and my dreams still hadn’t left me alone.  I intended to lie down on Layla’s bed to wait for her, but Annie smiled at me from the couch and I stopped to say hi.  We hadn’t spoken much, and I wanted to change that.  I wanted to spend time not only with Layla, but also with the people who meant something to her.

“Hi,” I murmured as I approached her.

“Hi Donovan.”

She spoke in such a timid voice.  I fucking hated her father for what he’d done to her, and the fact Layla had taken to him with a knife pleased me to no fucking end.

That’s my girl.

“Can I sit with you?” I asked, respectful of her choice to be on her own if that was what she preferred.

Wide eyes stared up at me, and I thought for sure she would say no, but she surprised me when she said yes.

“How’s your day been?” I asked, trying to break the ice.

“Good.  I helped Layla for a few hours in the bar this afternoon, so I think she’s happy with me.”

Fuck.

“Annie, Layla loves you and is always happy with you.  Helping her in the bar doesn’t make her happier with you.  She just wants you to be happy.”

“I’m happy when she’s happy.”

Jesus, we’ve got a lot of work to do here.

“So, tell me, what kinds of things do you like to do in your spare time?”

She thought about it, and after a couple of moments of silence, I thought she had nothing, but then she said, “I used to like ice skating, and Layla and I used to do it all the time until Julian hurt her.”

Annie had my full attention now.  “Who is Julian?”

“He was Layla’s boyfriend.  The one she met while we still lived on the streets.  He was the one who saved us.”

“When did you live on the streets?”

Her face became a mask and she shut down.  “I shouldn’t be telling you this stuff,” she said, and turned away from me.  The way she huddled into herself told me I’d really hit a nerve with this conversation.

“I’m sorry, Annie.  I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She didn’t respond and we sat in silence for a while.  Eventually, I got up and made my way into Layla’s bedroom.  I lay down on the bed and closed my eyes for a minute.  A quick rest before Layla came up wouldn’t hurt.

***

“Donovan.”

A hand touched my shoulder and gently rocked me, waking me up.  I cracked an eye open to find Layla staring down at me.

I opened both eyes.  “Shit, sorry,” I muttered as I got my bearings.  “How long have I been asleep?”




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