Page 16 of Past

I open Luke’s text next.

Luke: Need any help at the club? I heard working on the bar at a club shows you plenty of hot women ;)

I chuckle a little to myself before replying.

Me: Like you need help, but you can work for me

He replies a minute later.

Luke: Nah, I don't, but I gotta mix it up a little ;)

I laugh, clicking my phone shut, and wait for Allie to come out of the bathroom. I hear the shower running, and I decide to go downstairs to make breakfast. I pull my trousers and shoes on before I leave her room. I run into a hung-over- Tristan at the bottom of the stairs.

"Fucking hell, I give up." He sighs, leaning against the wall.

Tris is only a bit shorter than me and I know fighting him would hurt, but I would for Allie. He nods at me and lets me pass before walking up the stairs. I look at Tris for a minute, trying to work out how he doesn't look a thing like Arthur, or Allie for that matter. Allie is blond, like her mother must be, and Arthur has dark-brown hair. Tristan, on the other hand, has pitch-black hair and shares Allie’s blue eyes but nothing else.

I shake my thoughts from my mind, opening the fridge and seeing bacon and eggs. I find the things I need and start cooking. I put some toast into the toaster just as Allie walks in. She is dressed in a long, blue dress that hugs her curves. Her hair is flowing around her face as she smiles at me.

"Right, inviting yourself into my bed and cooking my food. Hmm, if you weren't so good with your hands, I think I would be annoyed." She winks at me. I can't help but laugh as I go back to cooking. I watch her look at me strangely before getting an orange juice from the fridge.

"Right, so how many fights do you have left?" she asks with a serious face.

"Ten," I mutter, not telling her I have one next week.

"How many have you done? When did it start?" she asks quickly.

"A lot since our dad taught us," I say, avoiding her question as much as possible.

"How long?" She narrows her eyes at me when I don't answer.

I walk away from her and instead start looking through the cupboards for plates. Luckily, I find them on the third try.

"The scars on your back, was that in the fights?" she asks quietly.I grab the sauce pan handle tightly before remembering it’s Allie I’m speaking to, not a stranger.

"No, my dad did that to us,"I reply, avoiding looking at her still.

"Us?" she echoes. I exhale a deep breath and start dishing up the food onto the plates, handing her one as I finally look at her. The emotion on her face is almost too much to fucking handle.

"Yes, my father was a cruel fucker to us growing up, but Harley got the worst of it. The fighting started when I turned fifteen, and the same for the others. Sebastian and I did a joint fight for our first time," I say, thinking back to that memory.

I learnt quickly how to avoid getting beaten after that first fight, when Sebastian had to pull a guy off me who broke nearly all of my ribs. I looked awful for weeks and didn't go to school for around a month. I was lucky we only had a few months of bad fights before my father died. Harley let us train properly, and we started helping when he knew we wouldn’t lose. Harley taught us how to win, but our father had taught us how to deal with pain.

"I remember around then at school. Sebastian told Maisy you were visiting family. That's why you didn't come to school,"she says, watching me closely as I nod, eating my food.

"Yeah," I say, shaking away the memories."I sorted everything for the wedding reception," I say, changing the subject. I spent all yesterday making dozens of phone calls, everything will be ready, and I even found a place that hires out tables and chairs. They do all the chair covers and table covers we need too. I lost my temper with a few people, and that’s why it took all day. I forgot how fucking annoying people can be. If they can’t do what I ask, then what’s the point?

"That's great. I'm nearly done, but I have to call for flowers, and the band is being annoying." She sighs.

"I can help with the band, if you want,"I say, hoping they aren’t annoying fuckers, too.

"Yeah, why not? I will message you the details. They want more money than I think they’re worth, but I know Maisy loves them,"she says with a small smile.

"I’ll sort it," I tell her and reach over to hold her hand. She lets me, with a slightly confused look on her face before letting go to eat her food.

"I had bad news yesterday," I say, feeling the need to tell her something about me.

"Oh?" she asks.

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