Page 103 of Arran's Obsession

We exited the warehouse with a gust of wind and rain splattering us. At Arran’s car, he hustled me inside. Shade went to the next one over, another chunky, matte-black beast of a vehicle.

“We’re driving around the city for a few hours while Gen works.” Arran enunciated the last word like it was poisonous. “Come with? We can keep an eye out for Cassie’s car.”

Shade banged his fist on his wet roof. “Ride with me. Tell us what’s up with your sister.”

“Fuck riding shotgun. We’ll take my car,” Jamieson decided.

Shade scowled, then raised his hand. “Rock, paper, scissors…”

Still at my open door, Arran chuckled under his breath as if there was some inside joke.

“Shoot,” Jamieson said. He smacked his fist against Shade’s scissors. “Shotgun for ye.”

Shade swore a blue stream. “I need to find a better way to call shit. Anyway, fuck not being behind the wheel. I’m taking my car, too.”

Jamieson shrugged and strolled to an expensive-looking, gunmetal-grey vehicle across the car park.

I stared between them. “We can’t drive three cars on one delivery route. We’ll clog up the town.”

Arran only shrugged, uncaring.

We took off in convoy. Arran’s phone connected to the speakers, and from the car behind, Jamieson filled us in on Cassie.

“She’s been stressing about not having a purpose in life so signed up to business classes at a college, but got into a row with a lass who told her how privileged she was, just because she drives a nice car. She worked out where Cass lived and decided she didnae need to work for a living because of Daddy’s money. In front of the whole class, she told her to get off the course and make way for someone who needed it. Like the bullshit our father put us through and the fact she was in foster care for the first years of her life didn’t mean anything. Cassie’s been working hard to manage herself, and this set her back.”

“That’s horrible,” I said. “What did she do? Either tell her darkest secrets or brazen it out? Fuck that girl for bullying her.”

“She threatened her,” he intoned. “Got herself kicked off the group by her own actions. Not one for mincing words, my little sister.”

Arran’s hand curled into mine, keeping me with him as we drove the dark streets. At the yard for Deliverus, I hopped out. Jon, the boss of the franchise, stared over my shoulder at the cars behind me. The three big men watching my every move.

“I don’t need a scooter tonight,” I chirped. “Just a bag to keep the food warm. Sorry for the past week, it couldn’t be helped. We good?”

He gave a faint nod and let me go without another word. Back in the car, I logged in to the delivery system and cued up my first job, then swiped to my playlist.

“Mind if I play music as I work?” I asked.

Arran gave me an indulgent smile then tapped his car’s screen to disconnect his phone and add mine so I could use his speakers, putting in an earpiece to keep the line open with his friends.

‘Midnight City’ by M83 surrounded us. Old-school nostalgia for the win.

Then I was out in the city and back to work. Slick, wet roads reflected neon signs, and the big overhead streetlights picked out showering raindrops. Grey clouds scudded over the dark skies, backlit by a faint moon.

All so familiar from a year of me doing this job. At the same time, all was completely different.

Everything else in my world had changed, from where I was living to the clothes on my back. Clinging on to this job felt vital. But doing it, I battled back a strong urge to return to the warehouse. Deadwater had taken on a dangerous feel, as if only bad things could come from roaming its streets at night.

Yet I couldn’t quit. Arran’s life had absorbed mine, and if he spat me out again, this was what I’d come back to.

Whether I liked it or not, I had to see it through.

Two hours in, with a dozen deliveries complete and no Cassie sighted, I exited an Italian restaurant, Shade shadowing me because Arran had taken a call. A few metres away, my man was still on the phone, whatever he had to handle an obvious issue from his frown and pacing.

I went to get back into his car. He gestured at Shade’s. Alrighty, then. His conversation wasn’t for my ears, and it only cemented how his existence wasn’t mine. Hiding my bubble of hurt, I got in with Shade.

“Address?” he asked.

I stuck my phone on the dash holder, the first of two delivery locations coming up. At Shade’s agreement, I linked up my music, and Shade sped us out, Jamieson and Arran tailing close behind.

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