Page 2 of Arran's Obsession

She snickered. “Don’t sweat it. Even if I did, elephant guy’s a city councillor. He can afford the bill.” Her amusement dimmed, something darker tugging her lips down. “He’ll be back on the weekend, recharged. Said he’d bring a friend. Not so keen on that one.”

My sweat cooled on my skin. “Do you ever get scared of your clients?”

“Cute that you’re worried. It’s almost always lonely old boys. They all want the same thing, and it isn’t my blood. It’s better for me this way. I won’t belong to one of the gangs.”

Fuck the gangs.

The sounds of the city seemed to get louder, the overtone ramping up my fear of the bailiffs and of losing our flat. From the city centre below our hill, horns blared from the cars that flowed with red taillights like blood through arterial streets. Shouts came from rowdy folk on a course for the nightclubs and bars.

The aura of the bad men who ran the place permeated everything, their threat to slice into an urban vein ever present.

I loved the city but despised the gangs with my whole heart. They’d cost me too much for the blind eye they expected from everyone else.

Twisting off my bottle cap, I chugged the last of my coffee, warm now, but still a dose of caffeine. The bailiffs were leaning back on the wall, chatting and definitely not budging, and I couldn’t turn up late to my job, which meant I needed to move it or lose it.

As I stood, I touched my gaze on the line of cars parked outside. My brother’s old Rover was wedged into a spot, which meant Riordan was out on his motorbike tonight.

There was something draped over his seat. His leather jacket?

If it was here, that meant he was out biking in the city in his shirtsleeves, the idiot. But it also gave me an opportunity. I took a breath and fished out my keys. I didn’t have a licence, but my brother had given me a few lessons. He could damn well loan me his jacket until the early hours.

“Cherry,” I whispered. “Could you do me a favour? See that dark-blue car? It’s my brother’s.”

“That boy’s hot as fuck.”

I shuddered, ignoring that. “I need his jacket to wear to work, and it’s on the car seat, but I’m worried those men might somehow know who I am if they look down.”

She brightened and stood taller, a hint of pride in her smile as if no one ever asked her for a favour that wasn’t at the cost of her body. “I’ll fetch it. Which window should I break?”

I burst out with a laugh and held up the keys. “Use these?”

She sauntered to the graveyard’s exit and over the road. In a minute, my pink-haired friend had the coat and was back, handing it over with my keys. “Here you go.”

“God. You’re a lifesaver. I owe you.”

“You don’t, sweets. It’s just nice to have someone smile when they pass me and not turn up their nose. You’re kinder to me than most. Means a lot.”

Drawing on the leathers, I tucked my fair hair underneath and checked the time again then swore. “Got to go. Stay safe.”

“Always do.”

Cherry blew me a kiss, and I hustled down the road, heading for the busy street at the end. It led down the hill and into town, and just a couple of minutes’ walk away, had the side street lock-up where I’d collect a scooter and helmet for work.

I’d get into my shift then try calling my brother again so he could help me find Dad. Eviction would be a nightmare for both of us. The thought sickened me.

At the end of the street, next to the old church, I peered back, catching movement in the graveyard amid its stones which poked up like broken teeth. Cherry with a man. One of her old boys by his grey cap of hair. She took his hand and guided him away, maybe to blow him on her church steps. Or fuck him.

Wrinkling my nose, I looked away and stuck in my in-ear headphones, a song playing to start my night. ‘Girls Like You’by The Naked and Famous.

Weird choice, phone.

I stepped onto the main road, lines of shops either side but most closed for the night, still with neon lights in the window. Despite the music, the need to hurry to work, my mind was still in the graveyard. Any one of those assholes could end Cherry’s life with a snap of her neck or his hands around her throat. Any one of them could?—

Brakes squealed. Bright lights bore down on me.

Solid, hot metal smacked into me and sent me skidding across the tarmac road. Coasting on the leather jacket’s ribbed shoulder, I slithered to a stop against the kerb, my headphones popping out in the crash.

Holy shit.

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