Page 111 of Freckles

“I like her. She has spunk, ingenuity, and handcuffs. It’s a rare woman who provides her own.” His eyes catch mine, face more serious than his words. “You should go get her and stop this tiresome moping.”

The others nod and I can’t believe them. Did they escape here from some bizarre alternate timeline? Because there’s no way they got any of that from her call.

“Are you insane?” I play the recording again, each second like a new knife in my back. The scar on my arm starts to throb as I throw the phone on the table with disgust. “Now I can’t even have her followed.”

Tyson frowns like I’m the one who’s crazy. “Are you kidding me?” He picks up my phone and waves it in the air. “A girl just threw herself in front of a train—atrain—to send you a message. Did that go completely over your head?”

“Because she doesn’t want me to follow her anymore. She still hates me.”

Tyson rolls his eyes. “Didn’t your expensive-arse school ever teach you subtext? What she said was that you shouldn’t outsource your stalking. Obviously, she wants you to do it yourself. And even if she doesn’t”—he puts his hands together in prayer—“please just go and get her. You’ve become a more tiresome drag than Ezra when you used to be the fun one.”

“You poked fun at me, you mean.”

“Exactly.” Tyson stands and grips my shoulder, shaking me. “You get it. Now stop wallowing and go do something about it, you miserable sod.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Hands up who thinks Francesca wants King to stop having her followed?” Tyson glances around at the others, smirking like crazy as their hands stay lowered. “And who thinks this is a desperate bid for attention from a woman who’s crazy in love.”

They all raise their hands.

They’re all mental.

“What’re you scared of?” Ezra asks. “Being happy?”

“I’m not scared. I just think harassing a girl who wants nothing to do with me is a waste of time.”

Onyx snorts. “Didn’t stop you before.”

“Oh, so youarescared,” Ezra adds, throwing pieces of walnut shell at me. “Dare you to go and find out for sure.”

“This isn’t primary school. You can’t dare me into doing something stupid.”

“If you don’t want her,” Onyx says in a thoughtful tone. “I might fetch her for myself. Never had a true redhead before.”

Unlike Tyson, he’s not joking. The idea of another man, one more careless with women than even I used to be, makes me crazy. And if it’s not Onyx… there are a thousand like him or worse.

“Touch one hair on her head and I will slice you into pieces and throw you to the seagulls.”

“Thought so.” Ezra taps on his phone, turning the screen towards me a moment later. “Dad says the plane’s free.”

The idea of seeing her is such a temptation, I let the daydream spin out in my mind. Touching her. Holding her. Kissing her.

“Oh,” Ezra adds, reading the screen again. “He also says to stop being an utter dickhead. You don’t need permission. This is not how men in our organisation behave.”

“Wow, dude.” Tyson’s smirk grows impossibly wide. “Sounds like if you don’t go visit her, you’re out of a job.”

“Isn’t the winter ball tonight?” Ezra asks. “Girls love that shit. Even if she runs away again tomorrow, you’d probably get lucky if you brought her back just for one night.”

He clicks on his phone, sending more messages. “Sibil says the tux and the ball dress you ordered are hanging in the spare wardrobe on the third floor.” He checks the message again and chuckles. “And she says you should have gone and got her a month ago.”

“She hadn’t even left a month ago.”

“Really?” Onyx asks. “Because it seems like ten times that with you moping around all the time.”

“Shut up.”

I get up from the table, storming up the stairs, then taking the extra staircase to the level above mine. Just to check the clothing’s there like Sibil said.

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