Page 34 of Fall

“Are you smoking?”

“Says you, who got pregnant and ran away. Sis . . . I think you’re winning the title for the most irresponsible one out of us, no?” he asks, and I glare at him.

“You’re such a rude, little shit, Ace,” I comment, and he laughs.

“Missed you, too, Tills,” he says and walks past us both, looking at Harley for a second.

“You fight in that cage? I saw the odds for the one coming up. Don’t die, yeah?” he says and then turns, walking out of the corridor.

“How did your brother see the odds?” Harley asks me, and I have no idea.

“What are the odds?” I ask Harley.

“You don’t want to know, siren,” he tells me and then walks away from me before I can ask him anything else.

Chapter Eighteen

Harley

“What happened?” I ask Blake when he shuts the kitchen door behind him with a tired sigh and not the happy grin I expected to see.

Sebastian and Elliot look over as they stop what they were doing. I stop cooking the pasta I was making for us all to celebrate Izzy and Blake’s engagement, knowing they’d be home soon from their weekend away. The poor dude has taken her on five dates now to propose, and every one of them has gone wrong. I seriously didn’t think this one could go wrong, but the look on his face says something did.

“I went to ask when I realised how much of an idiot I am. I left the damn ring box in the car. The car the valet drove away,” he says, and I mentally sigh.

“That’s unlucky, man,” Sebastian says, trying not to laugh, and I whack him on the arm.

“Just plan something else, or just ask randomly. I mean, you could tell her all the fucking romantic things you tried to plan,” Elliot says.

“Coming from the guy who would ask Allie to marry him on his bike,” Blake responds drily, looking stressed.

“What’s wrong with that idea?” Elliot asks, and none of us answer. There is so much wrong with that idea, and I doubt Allie would be happy.

“Let’s dish up and have a nice meal anyway, but I am sorry, Blake; you just seem to have the worst luck,” I comment.

“I got lucky when I met Izzy, so I knew the universe had to mess with me somehow,” Blake says with a laugh.

“How long until the fight?” Blake asks me, causing the kitchen to suddenly go silent.

“Two weeks.”

“Fuck, I didn’t know it was that soon,” Blake says, and my brothers look away.

They have given up trying to convince me not to do this. That we should all run from here and leave this village in our past. I know they would get up and leave everything, with their girlfriends and children following, but I couldn’t expect them to do that. They know there really isn’t any way of us getting out of it because we would be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. This is a chance to actually escape.

We all finish sorting the food out, hearing the girls laughing in the living room. It’s nice knowing Tilly is really settling in with our family. I don’t know when it became hers as much as mine, but I know I wouldn’t be able to let her out of my life.

“Is it strange having a baby in the house that isn’t yours?” Elliot asks me as we carry food into the dining room.

“No. I don’t see her like that, but I wish Tilly would name her. Calling her ‘baby girl’ for the last two weeks hasn’t been easy.”

“I bet,” Elliot replies, but he doesn’t look at me. “Dude . . . maybe you should ask her to move into her parents. I don’t get why she is staying here now that they have moved here. They have a massive house, and she should be with family,” Elliot adds, but I don’t look at him as Tilly stops in the doorway, hearing every word. Her hurt-filled eyes meet mine, and she turns around, walking out.

“Tilly, wait!” I shout at her back as she walks away, and I glare at Elliot who holds his hands up before I follow her through the house.

She stops inside the conservatory, which no one goes into, and watches the rain pouring down outside. I close the door behind me, looking her over. Tilly is wearing jeans and a white top, which makes her look like she didn’t just have a baby. Her long, red hair is loose and wavy, begging me to touch it.

“Do you want me to move out?” she asks quietly, but her voice echoes around the conservatory.

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