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I won’t get to call him Roger and see his eyes flash with warning. I won’t get to press my body against his and feel the thump of his heart trying to make an escape through his ribcage. I won’t get to joke with him, to provoke him, to talk with him and feel comfortable doing it. I won’t get to watch him spar, his muscles flexing, the veins on his arms and hands rippling beneath his skin as he moves. I won’t get to kiss him, to feel his tongue lick past my lips and stroke my own with greed. I won’t get to feel his possessiveness in the way he stares at me, holds me, and claims me as his. I won’t get to lose my virginity to the only man I’ve ever wanted to give it to.
I won’t. I won’t. I fucking won’t.
Gripping the wheel tightly, I draw in a few deep breaths, telling myself to calm the fuck down. That part of my life, where love had been a possibility, is over.
It’s over.
I wasn’t wrong when I said that people like us, criminals like us, don’t get to love.
There’s too much at stake.
Too much to lose.
We fuck and fight. We kill or be killed. We don’t love.
“Erm, hello?” a sweet, lyrical voice calls through the window, dragging me away from my thoughts and back into the present. A middle aged woman with a sweet smile waves at me shyly. “Miss Davidson?”
There’s a question in her eyes, an openness that I don’t see when I meet people for the first time. She’s not guarded, there’s no expectation that I might shoot her if she pisses me off. She just sees a young woman, not a threat. Not even my edgy clothing and shaved undercut seems to warrant any concern from her. That confirms what I already know to be true, that she’s a good woman. Taking care of my half-sister for the past four years since her mum passed is proof enough of that. Grabbing my bag, I step out of the car, closing the door behind me.
“Yes, hey. I’m…”
“You’re?” she smiles gently, offering me her hand to shake.
Fuck, what name do I use? Am I Grim or Kate? Chewing on the inside of my cheek I make a split-second decision. “I’m Kate.”
“Nice to finally meet you, Kate. I’m Sandy and my husband is Frank. Christy has been looking forward to this day for quite some time.”
“She knows about me already?” I ask as she ushers me up the garden path towards the bright red front door, passing through a pretty garden that has a neatly trimmed lawn and wildflowers growing around the edges. Everything about this village, this woman, and this house is so far removed from what I know that it’s making me nervous, which is fucking ridiculous really. Apparently you can surround me with a bunch of cussing, weapon-wielding, violent criminals and I’m at ease, but invite me to a pretty house with sweet people and I’m a fucking nervous wreck.
“Oh, yes dear, Christy has known about you for some time now.”
“How?”
My question remains unanswered as the front door is pulled open by a man, who I’m assuming is Frank, with salt and pepper hair and an equally warm smile.
“Come in, come in!” he exclaims, his bright blue eyes glinting with happiness as he steps aside. I pass him and step into a brightly lit tiled hallway with fresh flowers sitting in a vase on a console table and paintings of landscapes hanging on the wall opposite. “Christy is in her dance studio at the bottom of the garden.”
“Her dance studio?” I ask, casting my gaze about the place and searching for any hidden threats, coming up empty. It’s a force of habit and demonstrates just how deeply I’m in the quagmire of the criminal underbelly of London. Back home there’s a threat around every corner, and nowhere is truly safe. Here it’s…different.
I let out a long breath, giving them both a small smile. I’ve no idea if I should go through to her dance studio and introduce myself or wait for them to bring her to me.
“Should I wait here?” I ask, looking between them both. Frank has his arm around Sandy’s shoulder and they’re both staring at me with such warmth I don’t really know how to handle it.
“My goodness!” Sandy exclaims, grinning a little sheepishly. “We’re both terribly nervous and not ourselves. Where are our manners? Frank, go and make us all tea and I’ll take Kate here to the studio.”
Frank nods. “Yes of course, I’ll bring it out to the garden given it’s such a nice day out.” He winks at me. “AndI’ll crack open the box of biscuits the wife has hidden in the pantry. She thinks I don’t know about them.”
“Sounds good, thanks,” I reply, my cheeks heating at the way the pair interact. I can feel their love for one another, it’s heartwarming. Frank gives me one last smile, then disappears through a door off the hallway.
“Do you need a moment?” Sandy asks, sensing my hesitation.
I feel like an interloper, like I have no right to be here in their home, let alone disrupt their lives. Part of me wants to turn on my heels and stride right out of the house, the other part wants to meet my little sister more than anything in the world.
“I can give you a moment, if that’s what you need. This must be quite a shock for you. We’ve had much longer to process this news.”
“How come? I only found out about Christy when my dad’s will was read a couple weeks ago.”
Sandy slides her arm through mine and walks me towards the back door at the end of the hallway. “That’s a very good question which we will explain, but first I want you to know how sorry I am for your loss.”
