That’s the right thing to do.
The responsible thing to do.
Leave it in the hands of the police and get back to worrying about the things I have control over. My work. My studies. My friends. My mother.
I have the booking with Trent for tomorrow, then after that, I’m opting out and calling it quits.
As I wait for the bus home, my mind is calmer than it has been for a long while. That more than anything convinces me I’m now on the right path.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
TRENT
When I turnup at the house in Sydenham, my nerves are an absolute mess. I pull to the curb and glance around me, surprised to find the place looks no different from its neighbours. The front berm is just as tidy, the garden beyond the wooden fence just as cared for.
I’m not sure what I was expecting. All I know is this wasn’t it.
Once again, my emotions are wobbling out of control. Last night didn’t help.
After months of avoiding any retribution on behalf of Robbie’s death, Caylon, Zach, Lily, and I had finally been confronted by his distraught mother. The investigator she’d hired to find him—or failing that, find his dead body—had lured and coerced us to an empty warehouse for a final showdown.
It’s over now. There won’t be any further fallout. A relief except my nerves are still twanging from the overdose of adrenaline. If today’s appointment had been for anything else, withanyoneelse, I would have cancelled.
But this is too important.
A pedestrian turns the corner, walking towards the house. Even from this distance, I can tell it’s Rosa. Her figure, her clothing style, her gait—it’s all cemented into my memory, impossible to shake.
My stomach falls in a slow forward roll, then doesn’t stop. I put a wrist to my forehead, beads of sweat popping out despite the cool temperature.
I want this to work so much I’m making myself sick.
Rosa tilts her head as she gets closer, squinting, presumably to see if it’s me inside the car. I had offered to drive her, but she insisted on making her own way, saying she needed time to centre herself.
A desire I fully understand.
I get out, opening the door slowly so I don’t freak her out, then stepping out of the car as she draws level. “Hey, there.”
My hands don’t know what to do with themselves. I close and lock the car, store the keys, then shove them in my jacket, even though the pockets are placed ridiculously high, making me look like a bully boy from the romper stomper era.
“Have you been waiting long?”
Her tone is friendly but so distant I experience a pang of fear. Is this where my kink has brought us? Civil but a million miles apart.
What did you expect? You’re the one who wanted to be her client.
But that impulse seems so long ago. Belonging to a different boy with different priorities.
Before I felt the rush of protectiveness that swamped me when I understood she was in danger. Before I talked to her, got to know her, learned her quirks and interests, her sense of humour, the way her mind absorbs facts and clicks knowledge together in new and interesting ways.
The way she’s here because she wants to help me. Even after I gave her no reason to want to. Even after I warned her why she shouldn’t be near me. Why no one should be near me.
“Not long,” I say, trying for her same level of calm. “I’d just pulled up when you turned the corner.”
I hesitate, turning back towards my car. “Should I come in with you now, or would you prefer I wait until it’s all ready?”
A genuine smile breaks through her façade and she grabs my arm. “No way, mister. I’m not leaving you out here to second guess things and make an opportune escape. You’re coming inside and you get the pleasure of making small talk with me while I prepare.” She leans in closer, getting on tiptoes so her breath caresses the side of my neck. “If you’re very good, I might even let you have a biscuit.”
“Is that how you coerce all your subs into obeying you?”
