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“Someone must have.” I take the paper away and watch as she palms the key in her clammy hands.
Someone like me.
Visiting her apartment once was enough to take Perry’s comment into my hands and mould her life into something I could feel comfortable walking away from. Perry has embraced Lauren fully into his life—it may have stemmed from guilt, but they have developed a friendship that I know will be difficult for me to stomach when our time is up. She won’t leave the hotel, and she’d never forgive me for firing her. It’s a catch twenty-two of my own fucking doing. The only one reaping the benefits is my friend. He gets to keep her. I swallow thickly and stare out of the window, my hands tightening on the wheel.
Sensing my irritation, Lauren's hand runs down my thigh, and there isn’t a part of my body that doesn’t feel it, welcome it, or thank her for the contact. In a perfect world, she wouldn’t work for me. I wouldn’t be seeking revenge on a man who ruined my father—seeking out retaliation and anticipating the demise of another with sick, dark satisfaction. I’m not an overly nice man or a whole one. Royce will come back screaming like a banshee. His ego allows for nothing less. I don’t want that for her. I rest back in my seat, our eyes reflecting in the dark windscreen, and I give her a lazy smile.
“I know it’s not the kind of place you’d live in, but it’s not as bad as you think.” Pink-tinted cheeks glow under the streetlamp. There is a loud smash in the distance, followed by an agonised scream as someone shouts. Rolling my neck, I pin her to the seat with my unamused eyes.“Probably a cat.”
She shrugs nervously, eyes searching the streets for a feral animal wreaking havoc.
A hooded figure runs past, another one shortly after, as a series of shouts erupts. “Big fucking cat,” I drawl. Fury licks its way through my stomach. I want to say much worse. I should have moved her somewhere new altogether—put her in a place on my side of the city. Somewhere safe, proper. I had considered it, but then she would have caught on to my deceit and refused. This way, I can keep an eye on her from afar.
“Honestly, it’s not bad. Besides, Big Deeks looks out for everyone,” she says simply.
I whirl on her in the car like a tornado. “And who the fuck is Big Deeks?” I condemn Justine to hell. There was nothing in the report about some alley crusader keeping watch on the tenants.
Lauren twists, frowning through the window, then points in the direction of her building as a huge figure ambles across the lawn in the distance. “He lives in the apartment below me—or did. He’s a big softie, really.” Her smile is soft, trusting.
I hum—big fucking Deeks. I want to meet this fella.
We step out of the car, and I escort Lauren towards the building. A group of teens loiter by the entrance, and as we approach the main doors, the figure steps out from under the tree line. He’s huge and bald.
“Hey girl, you good?” His wide smile reveals pearly teeth, and a gap appears where a cigarette now sits.
“Hey, Deeks. Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for the casserole.” She beams.
He fucking cooks for her? Blind, contagious fury ripples through my chest. My shoulders stiffen, and I glare at the man. The piece of shit has the audacity to grin at me.
“It’s all good.”
“I’ll drop the dish back soon,”
“Who’s your friend?” Deeks asks, watching me with revulsion. He’s pegged me as a corporate kiss-ass, but I’m just as much a thug as this fool.
“A friend,” I retort, threading my fingers with Lauren’s, but she pulls her hand free, and the colossal man chuckles, sucking on his fag.
“You sure about that?”
“Stop being a big oaf,” Lauren chides as she strides to the huge fella and pecks his cheek, whispering something in his ear. His eyes widen, clean and as blue as my own. He nods, and Lauren steps back. I want to know what she said, but swallow the question down. It doesn’t stop it from buzzing around my head like a swarm of bees. It’s obvious she is comfortable around this guy, as he is her, and I don’t like it. I square my shoulders and bracket Lauren, a wall of security thrumming with anger behind her.
“Did you get a letter about the restorations, too?” she asks, changing the subject. I place a hand on her hip, ignoring how she stiffens under my touch and flick a warning look at the teenagers staring at us.
“Yeah, the building has been taken over by some big shot.” Knowing, clever eyes slip to mine briefly. “It’s part of a government-funded programme.”
“I’m moving apartments,” she confides. “I have mould.”
“Is that so?” Deeks eyes me with intent. He knows it’s me. He pulls on his cigarette and blows smoke into the air. “As long as you’re being looked after, girl.” I tilt my head, silently confirming his suspicion and his own dips, sharing my small nod. For all he knows, I could be fucking him over and the rest of his fan club. I’m not, but I kicked someone out of the flat I intend to put Lauren in.
“Let’s go and check out your apartment.” I squeeze her hip, and she smiles at Deeks and his youth club entourage. The man has got to be in his late thirties, but the hollow lines and constantly furrowed brow suggest he is wise beyond his years. He’s lived a life of pain, and I may be the one wearing a thousand-pound coat, but we have that in common, at least. That and Lauren.
I follow her up the steps and hold open the door for her. My eyes want to slip back to where holes are being drilled into my back, but I keep my focus forward. Lauren is running her fingers through the long ponytail sitting high on her head, and I want to reach out and tug her back, whispering my grievance with that particular action. Before I can act on my impulse, she drops her hair and twists, looking back at me with a guarded look in her eye. Silently warning me to keep my hands to myself.
Signs are already in place detailing the work to start in the next week. One of the elevators is taped off, and a few residents are reading a notice farther down the hall. “And how much is this going to cost us?” one man says. Lauren worries her lip, and we take the only available lift. It was the first thing I demanded to be fixed. She crosses her arms when I step in beside her. “You shouldn’t have held my hand,” she whispers.
“I shouldn’t be fucking you, full stop,” I drawl, smirking when she wrinkles her nose. She’d prefer I not be so crass, but I’m only speaking a truth we are both guilty of.
“This was silly to come here. You should have dropped me off,” she mutters.
