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“Does that something have to do with the fact he’s handsome?” she teases.
“He’s old enough to be your dad. What is he like, forty or something?”
“Pretty sure he’s just turned thirty,” she chuckles. “But yes, he isdaddymaterial, isn’t he?”
I’m just about to remind her exactly who herdaddyis when Dom appears to our left.
“You’ve got a visitor in your office,” he says, eyes darting to the punters nearby. “Might want to go and have a chat.”
“A visitor? It’s almost midnight. Who wants to do business at this time of night? More to the point, what are you doing letting them into my office?” Kate asks, raising an unimpressed brow.
“It’s about a car, afordor something?” Dom says, giving us both a meaningful look.
“Ford you say?” Kate asks, glancing at me, concern slashing across her face.
Dom nods. “Yep.”
“Something up with this punter’s car?” I ask.
“Yeah, something like that. Best you go check it out for yourself. I’ll cover the floor.”
“Fuck, fine. So much for me getting to watch Malakai in action. He’s definitely the best we’ve seen in the club for some time,” Kate says, trying to make out that she's not itching to go and find out what’s happened to her brother
“You make it sound like he’s the best fighter you’ve ever seen,” I say, keeping up with the act even though I sense some truth in her statement. Everyone knowsI’mthe best fighter, and therefore the best fucking entertainment, not this Malakai prick who’s fighting style is very much like a man who has nothing to lose. Perhaps he doesn’t.
Again.Alarm bells.
Anyone who fights like he doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything is as dangerous as a woman who says they’refine, and any man with any shred of sense knows not to push a woman when those two words slip from her mouth. You may as well sign your own death warrant.
So, yeah, excuse me if I’m being fucking cautious.
“I don’t think he’s the best fighter I’ve ever seen. I’m merely stating he’s a good one,” Kate says, interrupting my thoughts. “We can discuss this more in my office after we’ve dealt with our visitor.”
I nod, flicking my gaze to Dom. “Do me a favour, don’t let Jack Sparrow leave before we’ve had a word.”
He frowns. “Jack Sparrow?”
Kate rolls her eyes. “He means Malakai.”
Dom smirks. “You’ve got it.”
* * *
“What the shit?”I say the second we step into Kate’s office and see Ford sporting a bruised and swollen eye, and a split lip. Blood is smeared across his chin and has crusted over a little on his lip. “Let me guess, courtesy of your stepdad?”
He nods, sinking lower into his seat, his hoodie dropping over his forehead as he tucks his chin to his chest. “Didn’t know where else to go,” he mumbles.
Kate meets my gaze. “The medicine cabinet in the bathroom has some iodine and cotton pads. Will you grab them for me?”
“Sure thing.”
By the time I’ve returned with the items Kate is sitting opposite Ford, checking his face for other signs of injury. His hoodie is pushed back off his head and neither of them are speaking, but as she presses her fingertips gently against his face, I can see the concern in her eyes,andthe rage. She’s covering it well, but I can see how badly she wants to hurt the man who did this to him.
“Here,” I say, handing the cotton wool and iodine to her.
She takes them from me and wordlessly unscrews the cap, pouring some of the liquid onto the cotton wool pad. “This is going to sting,” she says, lifting it to his mouth and dabbing his lip.
He doesn’t even flinch. That right there is a kid who’s used to pain and covering up his reaction to it.
