Page 80 of Keeper
“For what?” I ask, my brow crinkling.
“Booker assaulted me!”
“Assaulted you?” I ask, disbelief in my voice.
Andrew’s brown eyes widen. “He lunged at me and grabbed me around here.” He yanks the collar of his shirt and demonstrates. “Practically held me over the stairwell, threatening tae drop me tae my death.”
“Oh my God, Andrew!” I exclaim in horror. “I’m so sorr—”
“Okay, maybe no the death part,” he interrupts before I have a chance to finish my apology for sending him there. “But he did put his bloody hands on me.”
“Booker did?” I ask, still needing confirmation.
“Aye.”
“Not one of his brothers?” I can’t help but recall the time Gareth attacked one of Vi’s ex-boyfriends in a Chigwell pub and had the police called on him. Paparazzi showed up and everything. It was a nightmare.
“It wis Booker and he wis by himself,” Andrew confirms with a sip. “Who knows how violent he would have gotten if he had his pack of hot brothers there tae back him up.”
I wrap my arms around my body. “I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. Booker is normally a pacifist. He’s protective to be sure, but he’s not violent. God, what’s gotten into him?”
“You,” Andrew grunts and downs the rest of his wine. “It’s fine, though. I’m quite sure I could have battered him. I wis just being a gentlemen because the lad is clearly tormented.”
“Tormented how?” I ask, my mind all over the place.
“For fuck’s sake, Poppet, dae I need tae draw ye pictures? The man is in love with ye…Keep up!”
I lean back against the counter, shaking my head adamantly. “You’re wrong. He is not in love with me. At all. And he’s not a fighter. None of this sounds like the Booker I know.”
“Well, he clearly cares aboot ye enough tae throw me oot of his flat and tell me tae get stuffed.”
I shake my head again and deny everything Andrew is insinuating. “This changes nothing. Even if he is feeling something for me, it’s not enough.”
“No enough for what? No enough tae be the father of yer child? Poppy, I’m sorry tae tell ye this, but unless ye’ve been sleeping around, the jig is up.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales heavily. “I’m sorry tae be harsh, but what’s yer plan here? Have me move ye oot of his flat entirely so ye never have tae see him again? Ye have tae talk tae him at some point. He’s the father.”
“You don’t think I know that?” I snap. “I’m still figuring it all out,” I stammer.
“Well it might be easier tae figure oot if ye quit hiding oot and start accepting his calls.”
My eyes widen. “I can’t possibly face him yet.”
“Why no?”
“Because I love him too much!” I howl and cover my face with my hands, my voice rising to that nutter pitch that comes out when I want to cry. I shove my hands through my hair and look at Andrew accusingly. “Because Booker makes me feel anchored and right in the world. And if he comes to me and asks me to marry him, I will crumble and say yes.”
“What’s so wrong aboot that?” Andrew asks, his face screwed up in confusion.
“He doesn’t love me. He’s only my friend, so he cares enough to do the decent thing, but nothing more. Booker isn’t tormented because he’s in love with me. He’s tormented because he doesn’t want to lose me. But I’d rather lose him than go back to being friends.”
“Surely being friends is better than nothing,” Andrew argues.
“It’s not,” I sniff. “I’ve seen behind the curtain now. I know what we could be together. Anything less than all in will eat away at my soul and make me hurt in places I didn’t even know I could hurt.” I shrug my shoulders and add, “I want more. I want…real love. This baby deserves that.” My voice cracks at the end because I realise I’m not only making this decision for myself anymore.
“So, what will ye dae?” Andrew’s voice sounds grave. “Ye cannae avoid him forever.”
“I know,” I nod and swipe at a stray tear. “I’m just avoiding him until I’m strong enough to say no to him.”
“Poppet,” Andrew says, his brows knitting together as he watches me. “Are ye one hundred percent sure yer no just protecting yerself. I’ve seen the way Booker looks at ye.”
