“Grant, I wasn’t expecting you until lunchtime,” said Jez, appearing from the back of the shop.
“No problem at all, Jez. Kieran was keeping me company.”
Jez looked at Kieran, who still had Grant holding his arms. He felt his face heat, so he pulled away gently and pushed his sleeves back down.
“Do you want to come through to the office?” he said to Grant. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I look forward to continuing our conversation, Kieran,” said Grant, with a smile, before walking into the back.
“What the fuck was that all about?” hissed Jez, his voice low.
“I offered to come and get you, but he said he wanted to talk to me.”
“What about? Why was he looking at bruises on your arms?”
“He just asked me how I got them.”
“What did you tell him?”
What was this, twenty questions? Jez had a look of concern on his face. He wasn’t his usual grumpy self, but something else. Was it fear? What was he afraid of?
“Word of advice, Kieran. I would stay away from a man like Grant Kincaid.”
Before he could ask any more follow-up questions, he walked away after Grant. Why was that name familiar? He couldn’t place it. Getting out his phone, he googled, and it didn’t take long for him to know why he knew the name.
Fuck!
If the weekend hadn’t been fucked up enough with his stepdad being back on the scene and Domtop69 taking things too far, now he’d attracted the flirtatious attention of a mob boss.
CHAPTER 4
DEREK
“You need to give me his number, Eddie.”
“You need to calm down,” said his best friend.
Derek had barely slept all weekend after seeing Kieran again. It had only been for a few seconds, but the hurt in his eyes had been clear. Derek hated what he’d seen, because he’d caused it. It was the biggest regret of his life. If Kieran would give him a chance, he could explain himself. He didn’t expect forgiveness, but he owed him an explanation. He looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and if he could ease some of that for him, Derek wouldn’t hesitate.
After wallowing in his own self-pity all day Sunday before being a grumpy arsehole at work, he barged into Edward’s house on Monday morning. He’d wanted to catch him before he headed into parliament, so it meant he’d only had a few hours’ sleep. There had been a lot of positive coverage in the press of Edward and Milo at the Pride march. It was the least they could do, given how they’d treated them both when Edward had been outed.
“I just need to talk to him, Eddie.”
“That should be up to him. You’re the one in the wrong here.”
“Thanks for that.”
“Am I wrong?”
“No, but I thought you’d be on my side.”
“I’m always on your side, which is why I call you out on your bullshit. Just like you do with me.”
Derek chuckled. He had done that a few times, especially in the early days of his relationship with Milo.
“Milo has let Kieran know that if he wants your number, he can have it. This needs to be up to him, Derek. I know you want to apologise and explain, but he has to want to hear from you.”
Edward was right, even though it wasn’t what Derek wanted to hear. He’d thought so many things about what could have happened to Kieran over the years. From what Derek had briefly seen, he looked healthy, but that didn’t mean everything was okay. He’d been tempted to contact his ex-wife to see if she’d heard from him in all this time. Perhaps they had reconciled. But somehow he doubted it after what she’d done, and he couldn’t blame Kieran for never speaking to his mother again.
