Page 8 of Watched

“Blade,” the wanker says.

“Did he just say Blade?” Xander asks, a car door slamming.

“I believe you’ve made the acquaintance of my brother.”

“He’s never mentioned a brother.”

“I’d say it’s because he’s rude, but it’s many other combined reasons. I’m just trying to help my boyfriend to bed. No need to make this bloody, Xander.”

“Get out of his house.”

“I will, once he’s asleep.”

“I’m not your fucking boyfriend,” I snap, a little delayed in voicing my opinion.

“I’m on my way,” Xander spits. “Stay on the phone, Rome.”

The wanker retrieves his phone from his pocket, and within seconds, my phone ends the call, returning to the home screen. My stomach knots as I try to call security this time, but it ends before it even connects. I lift my eyes to that stupid mask, phone trembling in my fist. “If you could do that, why let me call him?”

“Because I want to have a word with your friend. I like everything about you baby, but your choice of friends is subpar. Now, go sit on the sofa before you fall over.”

“No.”

“I’m beginning to hate that word.”

Chapter five

RAIN

Rome sits in the corner of the sofa, knees tucked to his chest, eyes disengaged. He’s on the verge of passing out, and I only hope he does before his friend arrives. After another five minutes, his lids droop further, but the sound of the doorknob turning startles him from his almost slumber.

I sigh and push up from the sofa as a gun slides through the cracked door. A black hoodie follows, a mop of black hair beneath. His hazel eyes find me and quickly scan my body for weapons. I have a gun tucked in the back of my jeans, but I won’t use it. Won’t need to.

“Rome, you alright, mate?” Xander’s voice carries through the heavy silence.

Xander ‘Xan’ Huxley, the younger brother of Jared and Nina Huxley and part of the largest organised crime family in London. While Rome and Xander have been friends since childhood, what the fuck is he doing around a drug dealer now?

“Yeah.” Rome nods with a deep swallow, looking over his shoulder at Xander. “Fucker won’t leave me alone.”

“Boyfriend,” I correct.

Xander steps in, closing the door behind him, neither his eyes nor gun straying from me.

“Now, now, mate.” I smile behind my mask. “Shooting me would be signing your own death warrant. You’ve seen what my brother can do. You won’t survive his wrath.”

Xander lifts his chin with a sly grin. “He’ll never know it was me.”

I slide my hand into my pocket, and Xander’s hand adjusts around his gun. Fucking drug dealers are always paranoid assholes. I’m sure he’s equally skilled with a gun, and his height and size match mine, but unlike me, he seems trigger happy.

I take out my phone and flick to the screen, turning it to show him. He snarls. That’s what I thought, motherfucker.

“I-Is that recording?” Rome whispers, desperately looking to his mate.

“It’s not for police purposes,” I assure Xander, pocketing my phone. “Everything is sent to a device that will be listened to by Blade in the event of my death. So yes, he will know it’s you. I’m sure you’re…somewhat capable of defending yourself. But tell me, mate: have you ever danced with the devil?”

His fingers stretch around the gun, this time in frustration. “Just get out and leave him alone,” Xander demands, lowering his gun.

“That won’t be happening. I quite enjoy Rome’s peaceful expression as he sleeps.”