Page 65 of Drift

So, yeah. Keyne kicked back at Drift’s security blanket, the one who Drift always drifted back to—her. And if it took her off the top talent list back at Jackson’s too: bonus in Keyne’s eyes. It had her pushing Drift back another pace, then another. Shewasn’t Keyne’s stress-release point. She wasn’t anyone’s fallback safety blanket. She couldn’t ever be, not when it came to Drift.

A look came her way, so bloody angry, and Drift took her hand. He didn’t usually snap as easy, and as he led her across the road to an alcove, his long look back at her called out that Keyne… into the crowd… wasn’t the only problem.Hadhe spotted Ava?

“Fucking Night-walking?” He came in so close, heatedly whispering it in her ear now they stood in the darkness of the alcove.

Shit. That was it.

“What the fuck are you doing hitting the streets after dark, away from town lighting, West? I don’t even fucking do that unless I have to.”

West looked at him. “Rumours,” she said gently, and Drift eased off, giving a frown.

Rumours. They either kept the streets safe or started trouble, where keeping an ear to the ground for them helped them decide which way to run.

“What kind?” Drift said into her quiet.

“Jude.”

He stilled, his look gaining so much distance, and it took West’s distracted brush of hair from his eyes to bring him back.

“Yeah. Someone’s been asking for a few weeks now,” she said quietly. “Real big bloke, scary-looking. Same corner place each Friday over in Newham.” Newham had the highest rate of homelessness in London, and added to how the man showed up on the same corner….

Drift frowned again, and he looked so tired with it. “Erm… you’re thinking what here? That he wants to be known as much as he’s looking.” That wouldn’t sit well with him. He didn’t like mind games, neither did West. “Rozzer?” he said eventually. “One who knows how to get a message out on the street?”

West shrugged. “Maybe. He was too comfortable walking the dark. I didn’t get sense of a copper when I followed.” She frowned. “This guy felt really off, D.”

“Off?”

They’d both seen their stomach full of… off, and she saw which hell his head walked into.

“He’s not one of Freak’s,” she said quickly. “They don’t need to advertise on street corners.” She frowned. “But he did look like he belonged there. I’m thinking Old-guard night-walker, long before Freak’s time. I’m thinking Grant’s sort.”

Drift eased back, some of the tension easing out of his eyes, a touch of sadness creeping in that she hated to see there too. Yeah, mention of any tie to Grant would steal his stupid head and heart.

She nodded, then shifted and took out a piece of paper. “Here. I followed him a few times. He’d lose me easily enough, but the last time, he went to an address.”

Drift took it and looked it over, then cocked a brow her way, a soft smile. “You’d lose sight of tracking him?” Drift had helped train her, more his competitive drive. She didn’t drop the ball, just like he didn’t. Usually. “And Edmonton Green?” added Drift, focusing back on the address. “That’s the poorest place in London, so what’s the issue?”

“He drove a Mercedes-Benz there.”

His eyes startled a moment, and the beautiful silver-greyness in them took almost every ounce of light. He saw the issue. Newham had money, yet he hit a poor area. “You’re thinking he needed time to set up a meeting nest once he knew, or suspected, you were following him?”

West wiped a long strand of hair off her lips. “Yeah, neutral grounding offer.” She frowned at him. “You be careful when you go check him out.”

“What makes you think I will?”

She wanted to smile back, but instead she let a touch drift his cheek before she knew what she was doing.

“Because he called Jude,” she said gently. “Not heard that name since a young lad came and slept outside of my window one night, never asking to come in, but never leaving either, just… just that smile at me through the window long before I learned to run.”

A windowpane had separated them as kids, and she’d sobbed into her pillow for so many nights. But that one argument with her mom, a burn to her arm to make her… be a man, not cry like a little girl, it had been the worst. Drift had sat watching her, that same sadness reflected back her way, then as if needing to bridge glass barriers the only way he knew how, an offer of his heart came with a touch to it that seemed to hand it over to her, the kiss of fingertips to lips, his offer of a way into talking, even if silence from her would be all he won.

“Your fault.” It came so quietly off Drift as he turned into her touch a little. “That goddamn voice of yours…” The ghost of his smile. “Fucking love it.”

Love. Yeah. That one word broke her heart a thousand times for reasons he’d never understand, and she pulled her touch away.

After a moment, she shook her head, touched hand to heart, kissed at her fingertips. She’d steal that off him, make it hers, because Drift… talking would hurt too much when it came to allowing him in. “Childhood friend,” she said gently. “I got the very best of.”

That stung his look… yet didn’t in the same breath. Seemed he’d take the latter of it was all she could offer, and she hated him for that too because shewantedmore.

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