And right now, there’s nowhere else I want to be.
Chapter Fifteen
NOAH
“Noah?” I shrug into my leather jacket, pulling it on over my hoodie, and keep moving towards the back door. “Where are you going?” Don’t answer that either. Where I’m going, or what I’m doing, is nothing to do with her.
She follows me and grabs hold of my arm, making me yank it away from her. The result is her skirting sideways at the feel of it, her eyes wide at my hostility. “What’s the matter?” she asks quietly. “After last night, I thought-”
“Everything’s the matter. You, this fuck up, the situation.” I open the door and focus on the garden instead of looking at something that’s becoming too familiar in my life. “I need some space, Neve. Stay here while I’m gone.”
I walk out along the path, unsure what to think about any of this anymore.
“NOAH?” No. Not talking.
Whatever happened between us last night wasn’t usual, that’s for sure. That shit went on for too long and made me feel things I’m not admitting to because now we’re what? On some collision course to screwing up my brother’s life more than it already is? Gonna piss around in the mornings like we're a couple and make breakfast together?
Her hiding out here with me and making me think about thoughts that are nothing to do with me is becoming fucking unnerving. It was bad enough while we were sitting watching my brother, and then having dinner after that, but last night wasn’t just sex. It was more. Was for me anyway. And what good is that for either of us? A Broderick princess and Noah Locke together?
I’m almost laughing at the thought of it.
I don’t know where I’m going, as I get into my car and start driving. I’m just moving, getting myself away from her so I can think clearly rather than have her in my face. If I could just nail down what it is about her that’s become so invasive, that might help, but I can’t. She’s just in here with me, her slim fingers and our two warped hearts wrapping themselves around each other for some stupid reason. We’re not even the same breed, and yet now I can’t find enough differences to separate what’s becoming connected.
An hour filled with south London traffic later, and I’m heading into a place I barely ever come to. I pull through the estate slowly, looking up at the high-rises from behind my blacked-out windows. Still looks like the same place I grew up in, still has the same vibe about it. Litter, graffiti, little punks hanging out on corners selling off cheap bags of cut goods. We had knives in our pockets back in the day. These little fucks are probably carrying guns instead.
I pull over and stare up at the shithole we existed in on the twelfth floor, then scan the area for any problems that might come from me leaving the car here. There’s already a group of kids in hoods on the far side of the old playground and another gang loitering around the screwed up community hall. Never was any point in that. Community meant one thing around here – fear.
I park and get out of the car, pulling in some good lungfuls of fucked up air. This is me – no changing it. I might have moved on like Gramps told me to, might have made it out, but this is where my roots are.
And there’s not one thing good enough for any Broderick princess about that.
I lean on the car and watch the first group of kids start walking towards me. Not a surprise. This vehicle is worth a fortune around here in wheels alone, let alone the stereo and other parts. I scowl at them as they start trying to grow a few inches. Stefan and I must have looked like that years ago. Two screwed up kids just trying to make it through each day. Eat a hot meal occasionally and try not to get killed. That was the remit. School? Never happened.
What a fucking existence.
“Yo, old timer?” one of them says. Makes me laugh. Thirty fucking three and I’m old time? “Nice ride.” I nod. It is in this part of town. “Who you doin here?”
Language hasn’t improved then.
“Just passing through. Keep moving, lads.”
“Man, you’s the Locke.” My head turns to look at one of them, unsure how he knows that. “Yeah, Yeah,” he says, pacing around. “You’s on pics on my old man’s fridge. Back in the day you's were tight. Dis is Noah Locke, boys.” They all look at me, some amount of deference being shown, as they back off the car they’re eyeing up. “You sposed to be in Spain.”
“Who’s your old man?”
“Paul Hancock.”
I nod at the name and look up at the high-rise on the other side of the field, remembering him and the loose friendship. Another little arsehole back then, but I guess we all were. Apple hasn’t fallen far from the tree from what I can see of his son. Sunken eyes, pale skin, trembling hands.
Kid bounces on his toes, laughs and waves his hands around. Off his fucking head – just like they all are round here.
“He’s still up there?” I ask.
“Yeah, man. They’re smoking and shit. You going up?”
I open the car door and shake my head, ready to forget things that are as far away from me now as Neve Broderick is. “Like I said, just passing through.”
They back off, giving me room to close the door, and I stare at them in the rearview mirror as I pull away. Never changes around here. No hope – no future worth anything but what you can do to keep yourself breathing. Makes me frown and weave the small lanes running through the high-rises until I’m out onto the old road through the back.
