AllFreeNovel
Share Us
17
Zayn
“Need anything?” Xeno asks me as we step into the flat. He eyes me carefully, waiting to see how I’m going to react to the fact I’ve just murdered a man. I blink back the image of blood and staring, blank eyes.
“No.”
He grabs my arm, his fingers curling around my bicep. “Do you need anything?” he repeats firmly. I know he’s worried I’ll lose my shit in front of Pen, that the remnants of this evening will rub off on her. I get it. I don’t want our shitty fucking life to scar her the same way it’s scarred us, and that’s why I made a promise to myself to bury what happened tonight, to forget about it. I’ve done it before; I’ll do it again. He fucking knows that.
“Isaid, I’ve got this.”
Xeno drops my arm. “Good.”
“I’m gonna take a shower.”
The flat’s quiet when we head inside, which doesn’t surprise me given it’s almost dawn. Wincing, I place my hand against my newly stitched up wound that sits just below my left pec. Fortunately for me, it’s a shallow cut and will heal quickly. I can already tell it will only leave a faint scar. My opponent wasn’t so lucky. A knife through the heart is pretty fucking permanent. The serrated edge of my saw-tooth knife carved through his flesh, muscle and bone like fucking butter. He didn’t stand a chance, not against me.
Jeb knew that. Tonight he made his point. Frederico, and whoever he’s working for, would’ve received a very firm message. Fuck with the Skins and you’re dead.
Swallowing down the nausea I feel, I head towards my bedroom. I need to wash away this shitty fucking night, take a sleeping pill, and fall into the oblivion of a dreamless sleep it affords me. I sure as fuck don’t want to relive this evening’s events or any other I’ve had to endure for my piece of shit uncle.
When I reach my bedroom door and push it open, I find Pen curled up on my bed with a blanket thrown over her, one bare arm and leg showing. “Fuck me,” I whisper, so engrossed at how fucking stunning Pen looks lying on my bed in her sleep shorts and tank that I don’t notice Dax sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. He raises his finger, pressing it against his lips, then stands.
“She wanted to stay up and wait for you but eventually passed out on the sofa… I carried her in here.”
“Why isn’t she in your room?” I ask. In his position, I would be wrapped around Pen and made sure she knew how much I fucking loved her.
“You need her more than I do right now. I ain’t feeling selfish tonight,” he shrugs.
“And York?”
“In his room dealing with blue balls.”
That draws a smile from me. “I bet,” I say, glancing back at Pen who is so fucking tempting right now. “Thanks, man,” I say, meaning it, because he’s right, I do need her. I need her so fucking badly. All I want to do is curl around her, press my face into her hair and fucking hold her.
“I got you, bro,” Dax says quietly, giving me a nod before stepping out of the room.
Kicking off my shoes and placing my jacket over the armchair, I step up to the side of the bed and look down at the girl I’ve loved for seven years now. She looks so peaceful with her bare legs drawn up and her mouth slightly ajar as she breathes softly. The fact that Dax was able to just sit there and let her sleep whilst she’s wearing this sexy little outfit blows my damn mind. The guy’s got next level restraint, that’s for sure.
“Look at you,” I whisper, wanting desperately to touch her, to lie down beside her, but I force myself to step into the bathroom and take a shower first. Even though I washed the blood from my hands and changed at Rocks, I don’t want her to wake up next to a man-made filthy by his actions. I’m well aware that having a shower can’t wash away my sins, but at least my body will be clean for her even if my soul isn’t.
After showering and changing into a loose pair of grey joggers and a t-shirt, I climb into bed behind Pen. Shifting closer, I wrap my body around hers, my arm snaking around her waist as I bury my nose in her hair. I instantly relax, knowing she’s in my arms, this girl I fucking adore.
“Zayn?” she murmurs sleepily. “Is that you?”
“Hey, Pen. Yeah, it’s me. Go back to sleep.”
She turns in my arms, her eyes hooded and a little unfocused as she reaches up to cup my cheek. I can’t help but lean into her hand. She’s so fucking warm and soft. “You’re back.”
“I am.”
“Are you hurt?” she asks, the sleepiness in her gaze replaced with concern as her brown eyes widen.
“It’s just a scratch,” I say, pulling her closer and brushing my lips against her forehead.
“That’s what you said before. Let me see,” she demands, fully awake now. She sits up, pushing me flat onto the bed and lifts up my t-shirt. I shudder at the feel of her fingers as they slide over my skin. Her gentleness unsettles me, the violence of the past few hours brought starkly to light with her soft touch.
“I’m good, Pen, seriously,” I lie.
