As I look outside the dome with my palm against the glass, separating me from the thick, deep snow, I try to remember what it feels like; try to play the sound of it crunching under my boots in my head. I imagine the little flakes melting against my skin, cooling me. Strange, I know, but there are so many things that I miss about life before.
The seasons are one of them; Summer, when my freckles blow up during the one week of heat Scotland gets. Spring, where there is not much difference from Summer, but more rain. Then there's Autumn, where the world becomes pretty and aesthetic, but still baltic. And now Winter, though it's a lot different from what reality used to be... The snow globe is reversed, and we're all trapped.
However, the view I have is beautiful. The white sheet, like tiny pieces of shattered glass twinkling in the sunlight, sits outside untouched, not flattened down by footprints or bird trails. There are no snowmen or kids screaming as they play. Although I cannot hear what's on the outside, I know there is only silence. Peaceful silence.
I remember when I was around ten, Dad was working, as usual, and Mum had taken me and our dog for a walk. She might be the grumpy parent ever since she found out about Eric and I, but back then, she was my best friend, my idol, and I wanted to be just like her when I grew up.
We'd had a snowball fight, ran around like crazy and ended up shaking with how cold we were, but the two of us didn't stop until we tumbled onto the frozen grass and stared at the sky. We counted the stars, laughed at the dog rolling around, then she told me that no matter what, we would always have each other, that her goal in life was for me to be happy.
She turned twenty-seven the day after, refused a party, all she wanted was for her, Dad, and me to go back to the park and play together in the snow. While we were getting dressed, he got a business call and vanished for nearly four weeks to land a multi-million-pound deal that, ultimately, set the family up for life.
But we never did go back to that park.
Don't get me wrong, my mum is still my hero, still someone that I look up to, but I wish I could talk to her about Eric. To gloat about how I feel. To tell her that I'm finally at that stage where Robbie is behind me, and I can see the next day. But I can't, and that breaks my heart.
Over the past three weeks, I've honestly contemplated sitting her down and explaining how much he means to me. That no matter how dangerous she deems him, I feel safe with Eric by my side. That on numerous occasions when I've felt myself falling apart, he was the one to hold me until I stopped crying, until I fell asleep, made me laugh while hyperventilating because of a goddamn shower cubicle.
I want her to share my happiness, not break it. I want her to cuddle me when I feel overwhelmed with emotions, that it's normal to feel this way about a boy, and to tell me that she's proud of me.
But she will never be proud of me, or happy, or anything for as long as Eric is the cause.
Belinda had come into my room that day to wash the windows, while he held me under the falling water. Thankfully, he wasn't taking me up against the shower wall or she would've heard how loud I could moan his name at different octaves. Then we would have really been screwed.
She isn't fond of Eric.
I had admitted to him exactly what Robbie had said in a whisper so she wouldn't hear us, explained that he read his file, that someone on the inside shouldn't be trusted. But Eric just snorted and told me he'd deal with it while his hand slipped between my legs, curling his fingers inside of me, and covering my mouth while he made me unravel from his touch.
With training cancelled and no opportunities for us to meet up, it's been torture. The camping idea had been shut down because Eric didn't feel comfortable with it, knowing that there may be a snake. Gareth has taken over, but his place is too small to set down the flooring or to even swing a cat in, so we had to go to the sports facility that's newly opened in VIP. I don't think he was too happy when I flipped him over my hip and pinned him to the mats in front of a small group.
I guess Eric trained me well.
We message, but not at all as much as I'd like. He's always busy, always doing assignments for my dad or down at the labs working on something with the scientists. He did sneak into the school storage room again just over two weeks ago, kissed me until my lips felt like they were bleeding, then vanished out the back entrance when we heard someone coming.
I get the odd sexual message about having blue balls, a goodnight if he remembers, or if I grow a set and send one first. And if I'm struggling to sleep, he'll talk to me through our bands until I pass out while the comms stays connected.
It's like being in a long-distance relationship without the distance or the label.
Two days have passed since the last message. I overheard Dad explaining to Gareth this morning that Eric has been busy hunting down someone who removed their band, that the person could be the one targeting me.
It isn't Robbie, Gareth had asked during a briefing.
Oh, and the thing with Robbie. Dad thinks I kissed him back, even though when they replayed the footage, you could clearly see there was no reciprocation on my part, but also no sign of resistance, either. They sat me down in his office and went through me while Eric, Frank, Gareth, and three other guards stood aside. The clip was replayed umpteen times, zoomed in, and questions were thrown at me on what he had said. Mum was sat opposite, in silence, her eyes flitting to Eric then to me, probably trying to gauge his reaction.
Dad was doing the same, but the disgusted look was aimed at me.
I'd withheld a lot of the information, lied through my teeth, and told Dad that he only wanted another chance.
I couldn't exactly say... Oh, I've been messing around with your most trusted employee—your best friend. Robbie found out and warned me off him because he's apparently as evil as the devil, could I?
Gareth pulled me aside and asked why I didn't tell him. He looked more hurt than anything. But I just apologised, said I didn't want to be a bother, and that was it.
I mean, he doesn't leave my side now. It's a little suffocating at times, but I get it. He got his balls chewed by everyone because of me, even Eric threatened his job if he couldn't do it correctly.
I apologised for that, too.
"Are you going to stand there all day, or do you want Gareth to make us run another lap?"
I turn to a very annoyed Ains with one hand on her hip, sweat dripping down her scowling face. Gareth isn't far behind, also drenched and catching his breath. His tank sticks to his skin, something she can't seem to take her eyes off of. "I didn't tell you two to stop," he says. "You both—"
Ainsley raises a finger to silence him. "I swear, if you try to order me around like some fucking pet, then I will make sure that muscle between your legs never enters a woman, or man, ever again."
Ooft.
His lips flatten, and I giggle. All they've been doing the past few days is arguing. Well, she threatens him, and he glares at her from behind. They think I don't know that they send messages while in the same bloody room. The quick glances. The brush of their bodies when they pass each other.
She claims they don't flirt, but trust me, they definitely do. Why else would she volunteer to work out with us? She hates exercising, or any form of fitness that requires her to move.
Ainsley and I have been kind of inseparable since I told her Robbie approached me. She's gone into some horrendous detail of what she'll do to him if he comes anywhere near me again. She has a thing for ripping off men's genitals and burning them.
I feel bad, though. Robbie didn't ask for another chance, he just wanted me to be careful. Not that I'm getting a soft spot for him, but I don't exactly want the guy getting crap for apparently trying to win me back, especially when it's a lie.
Robbie has gotten himself involved with the wrong crowd, that's for sure.
We run the rest of the way to Gareth's. Ains comes in, tells us she's too tired to walk home, so she uses his shower, putting on his shorts and top without asking, as if it's the normal thing to do. Lying on the couch while we sit at the table and eat soup, she compares it to cat piss, complains about the smell, then tells Gareth that Eric is debating letting him move to VIP.
First I've heard.
Once we clean up, we decide to put on Dirty Dancing. It's a classic. I think I've seen it a thousand times.
Ains has her head on Gareth's shoulder while we watch the movie, but she isn't paying attention to it, neither is he. They keep whispering, hitting each other like children, and both disappear into the kitchen for nearly half an hour before they come back in with Ains fixing her wild hair. They seem to think I'm oblivious, not like I'm going to be against it if they are messing around. I just don't want her to hurt him. But maybe she won't, she does seem to like him.
Ainsley doesn't know that I can see the way she looks at Gareth, smiling when he slings his arm across the back of the couch until his fingers graze her shoulder. He laughs at something she says quietly into his ear, the same arm dropping over her now, and I fight a grin that mirrors his. I just know she's said something ridiculous.
Ainsley has absolutely no idea that I've spent the entire night analysing their behaviour towards each other. I'd be blind, and dumb, to say that there's nothing going on between them.
I'm not going to say anything, I have no clue why they are being so sneaky. I guess I'm one to talk, since I haven't even told Ainsley that Eric and I have had sex.
I yawn, and they both look over at me. "Tired?" Gareth asks. I nod in response, stretching my arms above me. "You have training with Eric all day tomorrow, so you should probably get some sleep."
My head tilts, my heart speeding up with nerves and excitement. "I do?"
"Yeah. He's got a week off. He told me earlier that he'll do your weaponry training. He didn't tell you?"
I shake my head. "I haven't spoken to him in a few days."
"Wait, I thought you said he was at the club tonight?" Ains adds in, turning to Gareth with furrowed brows. "He's going to train her with a gun while hungover?"
He shrugs. "It's Eric."
I don't listen to what they say next, I'm too busy in my own head. He's off duty, and hasn't reached out to me? I'm trying not to be a jealous person at the thought of him out tonight, drunk, probably dancing with numerous girls at the same time. From experience of being around an intoxicated Eric, he's a flirt, available, and people would be stupid not to approach him.
I hate needing so much reassurance.
Why would he want to put up with someone as insecure as me? Because he likes you, you bloody tit.
Brushing my teeth until my gums are swollen, I try to be calm, to remember all the claims he put on me, telling me that he's mine as much as I'm his. He has feelings for me, but again, that doesn't mean he's not going to enjoy himself, right?
He's allowed to.
I didn't push Robbie away when he kissed me, after all. He has every right to do whatever he pleases.
I'd just rather he... didn't? I'm selfish, I know.
By the time I leave the bathroom, the living room is empty, silent, and I sneak along the hallway to Gareth's bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and I peek in to see Ains lying on his mattress while he sits on the dresser in front of her.
"Are you staying tonight?" he asks, elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward. "You're more than welcome to sleep in here, or take the couch with—"
"You talk too much," she interrupts, and I roll my eyes. "Shut the fuck up and come here."
He hops down, grabs both of her ankles, and yanks her to the foot of the bed so he can hover over her. Ainsley giggles, something I hardly ever hear. I should look away. Now. I shouldn't be watching the way she smiles up at him, a blush taking over her chest and cheeks as he lowers himself to kiss her on the lips. Gareth rests his forearms on the bed, caging her in, and uses his knee to part her legs to slot between them.
I feel a pang of jealousy, but it's not because I want it to be me. I want that to be me and Eric. There are no ties that forbid Gareth and Ains to be this way, to be together, or even just to have a bit of fun. God, they could hold hands and walk down the street, and no one would bat an eye. It wouldn't result in anyone's death.
I'm happy for them, truly. But I want that to be Eric running his hand up my side, to palm my breast while his tongue sinks into my mouth. For me to be the one to smile against his lips the way she is with Gareth, no worries in the world. He hikes her leg up, hooking it around his hip and kissing her harder while she rips his top off and tosses it across the floor.
He's not as big or as tattooed as Eric, but he's not far off. I can't seem to look away from Gareth's back muscles tensing as he dips down to crush his lips against hers.
Tears build in my eyes, and I fight against them. I'm so fed up with crying. And who the hell cries while spying on people groping each other?
What am I even doing?
Ainsley wraps her arms around his shoulders, fingers fisting at his hair, and deepens the kiss. "We can't be loud. I don't want to wake Danielle," she whispers against his mouth.
He nods, pressing his lips to hers, then mutters, "You're so perfect."
She smiles. Ains would usually grimace if someone said that to her.
I back away in silence when I see her hips roll against him, getting the hell out of there before I witness my best friend getting screwed by my current bodyguard.
I guess I'll go find my tablet, headphones, and listen to the playlist Eric made me to drown out whatever noises they're going to be making for hours.
_____________
I'm roused from my sleep when I feel someone behind me, warm and large. An arm wraps around my waist, lacing our fingers and placing our hands at my chest. I'm sleepy, half awake, but I know it's Eric from the feel of him, the smell of his aftershave infiltrating all of my senses. When he places a soft kiss on the back of my neck with a breathed out hi, I smile.
"What are you doing?" I whisper, moving forward so he has more space on the couch behind me. Music is playing through my headphones between us, my tablet tucked down the side of the cushions. He hums, drunk, tightening his hold around my body. "Did you have a good night?"
"No," he replies bluntly, his voice deep and raspy. Reaching down, he pulls the blanket over us, chucks the tablet, sending the headphones and music flying, then cuddles into me again. "Go back to sleep. I didn't mean to wake you."
"Gareth will wake in a few hours, he'll see you... cuddling me."
"Fuck Gary," he replies. He's so intoxicated, I can tell by his tone. "He knows to keep his mouth shut."
I turn to face his naked chest. He's taken his shirt and trousers off, but when I look up at him rubbing his face, I see his knuckles split, dried blood coating them. "What happened?" I ask, tracing my finger across the ripped skin. "Were you fighting?"
He shakes his head, closing his eyes. "Sleep, Dan." Huffing, I flick Eric's ear, and his eyes open, burning into me with a death stare. I raise a brow, waiting for a more reasonable response. "Fighting would mean one of them hit me back..." He's slurring his words, closing the distance between our bodies to nudge my nose with his. "They didn't."
"For a good reason?" I ask as his lips slowly descend on mine, not quite pressing together, more so a touch as he smiles through hooded eyes. He nods, only once before kissing me, gently, and it takes my breath away, my entire body waking up as I kiss him back.
Eric pulls my leg over his side, hiking my knee so our hips are flush as his tongue sinks into my mouth. For God knows how long, we stay this way, the sound of our lips moving together echoes around the room as our hands explore our bodies. A warmth builds at the base of my spine, tingles rushing to my core.
"Everything I do is for a good reason," he tells me, fingertips slowly gliding from my ankle to my hip, and squeezing as he hisses through clenched teeth.
I feel his cock, hard and ready, pressing against my inner thigh as the kiss deepens once more. "I'm not...having sex...with you," I say between each stroke of our tongues.
He laughs into my mouth, breaking the kiss, his perfect, white smile in full bloom. "I'm not here to fuck you."
I drop my hand between us, a rush of air hitting my lips as I grab him with a raised brow. "You're hard."
He gives me a stern look. "I'm kissing you, of course I'm going to get fucking hard. Especially since I have my tongue down my girl's throat."
"Cute," I reply. "I like when you're drunk. Keep saying sweet things."
He groans, dropping his forehead to mine. "I'm not cute."
"Why did you come here?"
He shrugs, burying his head in the crook of my neck, pressing his lips just below my ear that has me shivering. He pulls away to look at me, serious. "I missed you."
I laugh, and he narrows his eyes at me. "I guess I missed you, too."
He grimaces, but I know he likes that I feel the same. "Don't tell the others. I'm not supposed to have a favourite."
"I will hurt you, Eric Osprey."
Pushing me back with a chuckle, he drops his head to my midsection, wrapping his arms around the small of my back. "Sleep. Or I'll tell your dad that you fancy me."
I giggle, running my fingers through his hair. "I do not."
To be honest, at this point, I think I'm a little past fancying Eric. I'm more completely obsessed with him and the way he makes me feel when he holds me the way he is now.
Like he's telling me that I am his, all his.
"I can't stop thinking about my best friend's daughter," he mutters in a drunken slur, more to himself, shaking his head. "What a fucking dick I am."
I bite my bottom lip, smiling. "She can't stop thinking about you, either."
Eric hums. "I don't want her to know what I've done."
"What have you done?" I ask, trying my luck, but I know when he groans and buries his face, he isn't going to respond.
He falls asleep while I'm thinking a billion things, his arms wrapped around me possessively, as if I'm going to vanish. Eric had been out partying, drinking, and now he's lying on me, light snores leaving his lips.
And despite his final words before passing out, I'm smiling. Eric Osprey is cuddling me, and I feel safe.
There's nowhere else I'd rather be.
Look at me, Mum. I'm finally happy.
______________
My band beeps, vibrating on my wrist to rouse me, but when my eyes open, I'm pinned to the couch. Sweating, my skin sticking to the leathery material, and when I try to sit up, a heavy weight on my midsection stops me.
Gosh, I need to pee.
I look down, the corner of my lips curling at the sight of Eric, in a deep sleep, all limbs wrapped around me. He doesn't make a sound as I tilt my hips so he releases me. But his brows furrow, before he absentmindedly rearranges his morning wood in his black boxers and throws his arm over his face to cover his eyes.
He's a tank, truly, inked to perfection, sculpted, and I want to run my hands all over him until the oxygen runs out.
Hurrying to the bathroom to relieve my bursting self, I brush my teeth and turn on the shower to freshen up. He'll probably be gone by the time I'm ready for work, not wanting to chance Gareth seeing him.
I wonder if Ainsley is still here?
From experience, Ainsley would be out the door the second the person falls asleep, usually stays a bit longer if they're a girl, but ultimately, never stays for them to wake in the morning together. But I have a sneaking suspicion that she is wrapped up in Gareth's arms. I mean, I hope so, really. He likes her, and from what I've witnessed recently, she definitely likes him.
My body jolts, rushing to cover myself as the door opens, the same door that is supposed to be locked with a pin code. I expect Gareth to waltz in, whistling, most likely with a huge after-sex grin on his face. Ainsley uses her nails; he'll have claw marks for sure.
But of course, it isn't him. Eric raises a brow at me through the slightly fogged glass, one hand in his boxers as he makes his way to the toilet with a swagger. Not giving me another look, he stretches one arm above him and places a palm against the wall, holding himself with the other as he does his business.
When he rolls his neck, my body tingles at his muscles pulling taut.
How can his presence alone drive me crazy?
"The pink toothbrush yours?" Eric doesn't look at me while he speaks, the toilet flushing, but when I make a sound of agreement, he plucks it up, brushing his teeth.
With my toothbrush.
Well, I have used his, numerous times. So I guess this makes us even. Kinda.
He spits out the paste and washes his face, all while I lean against the shower wall, hands covering myself, watching. It's fascinating, strangely, and I can't take my eyes away from his tatted, muscular, large back.
He has a nice behind, too.
I shake off the dirty thought of asking him to join me as soon as his form is no longer in view from the steam. I'll be late for work and Gareth will hear. Turning away from him, I finish lathering the soap and rinse it, being careful not to soak my hair tied up in a bun.
When I spin around, pushing open the now completely condensation filled glass door, he's gone. I wrap a towel around me, trying not to feel rejected while I walk through the house as quietly as possible. On the way down the hall, I stop at Gareth's door, peeking in to see Ainsley asleep on his chest, his arm around her shoulders.
They look cute together. Hopefully, Ainsley doesn't fob him off as soon as she wakes up.
I tiptoe away when he shifts, tightening his arm around her shoulder.
Eric is pulling on his jeans when I walk into the living room, belt hanging from the loops. As soon as he looks up, he stops all movements to get ready and just stares at me, eyes raking up and down the length of my body. He swallows, his blues meeting my greens.
"What?" I whisper hiss, tilting my head as I hold the short towel to myself.
He groans, taking a step towards me. My cheeks heat the closer he gets, and I back away, my thighs hitting the table. Eric's eyes are like fire, hungry and dangerous. His long fingers trace the material tight against my chest, pushing my breasts up, and he looks up at me, wetting his lips.
"You're killing me," he says, shaking his head with an annoyed expression, taking a deep breath. "I was out with Richie last night." Eric grits his teeth like he's mad or frustrated. "I told him I was going to meet up with someone I was seeing. That I've been seeing her for a while."
The grin I'm trying to hold back has me biting my bottom lip. "And?" I urge him to continue, pulling myself up onto the table, hooking my finger into the waistband of his boxers to bring him between my legs.
Eric stops me from tugging him. "He asked me if you knew. If you knew I was seeing someone."
I frown, my hand dropping into my lap. "Why?"
Eric shrugs. "He was shitfaced. But I don't know, he seemed kind of pissed at me. Maybe he thinks it'll take focus away from my job if my time is being taken up by someone else."
"Do you think he knows?" I ask quietly, brushing my hands up his bare chest, revelling in his muscles that flex beneath my touch. "About us?"
Eric scoffs, whispering his next words as his nose nudges mine. "Nah. I'd be a goner by now if he did."
True.
With one solid peck that is nowhere near enough, he leans back, studying my growing amusement as I battle against my cheesing smile. "So did you come here after seeing your...person?"
The corners of his eyes scrunch as he reaches up and tugs the towel so it falls open, but I catch it and tuck it back in before he can see much.
"I wanted to see your tits before I go." He tries to pull the towel again.
"Hey!" I scorn him quietly, slapping his hand away.
His gaze is now trained on the material sliding up my thighs and parting. Warm palms find my knees, and he widens them so he can position himself in between comfortably. It sends pleasurable shocks up my legs, having him so close to me while I'm this exposed. The cool air hits my core, the area that is currently throbbing and needy for the man in front of me.
If he were to drop his fingers to feel me, he'll know how wet I am, ready and waiting.
He lowers his forehead to mine just as his fingertips reach my waist, my chest rising and falling, desperate for him to keep going, to keep touching me.
He's rock solid. He wants me just as much as I want him.
But Eric doesn't touch me, does he? No. The idiot groans, kisses my forehead, steps back, and walks into the kitchen, leaving me a hot, confused mess on the table.
I hear him running water, then the sound of two bowls clanking on the countertop.
Really?
Huffing, I push myself off the table, tightening the towel around me as I rummage through my suitcase for underwear. I grab my ironed work uniform folded over the chair and walk into the kitchen to see Eric sat on the counter.
"Why does Gary not have cereal?"
"We eat porridge here," I reply. He grumbles, crossing his arms. "Were you fighting with the person you were tracking? The one who removed their band?" I gesture to his split knuckles, and he glances down, shaking his head.
Awesome. So he just goes around hitting people? That's great.
He growls at me as I go to remove the final barrier of my nakedness, fully planning on getting dressed for work.
"If you drop that towel in here, I promise you're going to wake Gary. And I need to be gone before he gets up."
Oh, he has no idea who else is here. Ainsley will lose it, considering she has no clue what's actually going on between us. It's probably a good reason not to wake them until he leaves.
I raise a brow, challenging him anyway. "And how will I wake him?"
"Drop it and see."
I hum, my eyes dancing with mischief.
He sucks his teeth. "Do you know how much I'm holding back right now? How much I wanted to take you on the couch? The shower? Now? I want to fucking ruin you."
"I think you're scared," I fire back confidently, smug, taking a careful step towards him.
"Scared?" he replies, confused, his eyes not leaving mine as I settle between his long legs that are dangling over the countertop. "What exactly am I scared of?"
My shoulder raises, tracing my hands up his jean-clad thighs. I lower my voice to a seductive whisper, and say, "I might ruin you..."
He scoffs, but then smirks at me, running his thumb along my lips, skimming my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "A little late for that, don't you think? My cock is yours. Ruin it."
How romantic.
Testing Eric seems to be my favourite thing to do, so I step away from his soft touch with a flirty look, inching towards the door. Gripping my clothes to my chest, I watch as he glares at me, knowing what I'm about to do. "Then maybe we should ruin each other." I glance over my shoulder, hearing snores still coming from Gareth's room, and I know it isn't from Ainsley. "It's only fair."
Eric jumps off the counter the second I toss my clothes aside, and reach to undo the towel. He grabs my hands, holding them behind me. With one gripping both of my wrists, he uses his other to tug my hair, pulling it back until our lips are close.
"You love teasing me, don't you?"
Then my towel drops.
And Eric looks like he might explode as my naked body is pressing to his, my breasts to his chest, nipples tightening under his burning gaze.
"The next time I have you on your own, you're fucked."
Just when I think he's going to grab my clothes and throw them in my direction, he shoves me, so I fall back on the couch. He climbs on top of my naked body, mouth crushing mine, his kisses become bruising as he takes my bottom lip between his teeth.
"This is how it feels when you tempt me," he mutters into my mouth, dragging his lips down my throat. "To want you fucking dripping with my cum, all the time."
My back arches, one hand gripping my soaked inner thigh, his other muffling my moans as soon as he takes my nipple into his mouth, tongue circling it, sucking, licking. I open my legs wider and silently beg him to touch me, fuck me, anything.
But his palm leaves my mouth, replaced by his tongue sinking deep as I gasp from his fingers dangerously close to where I'm wet.
Screw it. I reach down, grab his hand, and move it to exactly where I want him. He chuckles into my mouth, letting me take full control of his fingers as I grind myself against them. I feel my inner walls tensing, swallowing his groans as he kisses me deeper.
I curl my fingers around two of his and urge him to fuck me with them, to push them inside of me.
"You want it?" he asks in a teasing tone. I nod, breathless, and Eric releases his hand from my grip, pushing the two fingers into my mouth so I can taste myself. "Then suck."
I do, and I can tell this is getting him off. His own breathing is erratic, cock solid between his legs, digging into my thigh through his jeans.
My eyes close, knees parting more as I drag his hand back between my legs.
I sigh from the warmth of his touch, sliding his fingers down my slit and teasing my most sensitive area. But he quickly pulls away, and I whimper at the loss.
Eric stands up.
I scowl at him, imagining his death in a million ways. Maybe I will tell my dad.
His eyes aren't on me, they're towards the door, and when I follow his glare, Ainsley and Gareth are frozen in the doorway, like deers caught in headlights.
Gareth bolts as soon as Eric goes for him.
Ainsley raises a brow as they vanish into the hallway to brawl, and instead of going to help, she drops on the couch next to my naked self and tosses my clothes at me. "Well, good fucking morning," she mutters, lifting the remote to turn on the TV.
Great.
Once Eric has given up threatening Gareth with excruciating torture methods for nearly an hour, telling him never to lay eyes on me again, never to speak of what he saw, he comes into the kitchen to let me know he'll see me after my morning shift so we can train. Ains smirks, probably getting a pretty vivid image of his version of training, but I give her a stern look to keep her quiet.
"You keep your fucking mouth shut as well," he tells Ainsley. "You're barely one to talk. Fucking Gary, really? Thought you were into girls?"
"Sex is sex, dickhead. You done?" she replies, looking bored as she crosses her arms in front of her. "I need to shower Gary's jizz off of me and you're getting on my nerves."
Eric grimaces as she walks past him, making sure she doesn't touch him by dodging her.
I fight yet another grin as he walks over to me, pulling me against him. His arm snakes around the small of my back, the touch gentle, yet he looks wilder than the Tasmanian devil cartoon with his crazy eyes, flaring nostrils, and heavy breaths.
"That's twice he's seen you naked," he points out, gritting his teeth. "Fucking prick."
"First time, he was saving my life. The second was your fault. Anyway, I live with him." I shrug. "Accidents happen."
"Accidents happen?" he retorts with a clenched jaw and a stare that could burn me alive. Blowing out his cheeks, Eric is clearly annoyed.
"I'm surprised he's still alive, to be honest. I'm sure he got a good few hits to your face," I say, stroking a freshly forming bruise on his cheek that he slaps away with a grunt. I try not to laugh. "Are you going soft on him?"
Growling, Eric rolls his jaw. "He's one of my best guys. That's all."
"Sure," I reply. "Wait... Where are the dogs?"
"Mansion. Belinda has them," he replies, then glances down at his beeping band. "I need to go. Training is at three. Don't be late."
Eric kisses me on the tip of my nose and winks, shouldering Gareth on his way past and muttering something under his breath that makes his protégé shake his head. The door slams shut, and my poor bodyguard looks like he's seen a ghost.
"Still going to deny it?" he asks with a smirk once the coast is clear for him to speak. "Fuck. He was so mad."
"Please don't say anything," I beg him. "I don't even know what's happening myself."
He nods, glancing behind him at Ainsley lounging on the couch still.
Gareth bites his lip, curbing a grin. "I think I might need you to do some digging for me," he whispers, eyes finding mine. "Unless you have any sort of advice for me here because that lass is so hot and cold."
I glance over at Ains, who is none the wiser that we are talking about her. "Just play it cool. Don't push. And see what happens. I'll probably get far too many details today, anyway." I slant my head. "You really like her, don't you?"
He blushes and walks away.
By the time we leave, I'm nearly late for work. Gareth insisted we walk Ainsley home, that he'll cover for me if we end up a few minutes past nine. I twiddle my thumbs as he pulls her into him, staring at the snow coating the outside.
She tells me she'll speak to me later and gives me a very prodding look. I know she's going to attempt to pull every piece of information she can from me. And what the hell do I even say? Ainsley has always seen me as the innocent girl when it came to sex, or anything related.
Yet she walked in on Eric shoving his fingers down my throat and me pushing them between my legs while I lay naked on Gareth's couch.
God.
Shoot me, please.
And if she doesn't get it from me, she's going to go for Eric to find out, and we both don't need that happening. He'll probably snap her spine and say it was an accident.
We're silent on the walk to work, my focus on the snow outside as he manoeuvres me through the crowds starting to build up. Unusual, considering it's early and most people are at work. Why is it so busy?
But when it's like this, it usually means the bad comes, too.
And yep. Spit just hit my face. There's too many around us to know who it was.
Gareth drags me through the growing crowd, his hand covering the top of my head as someone yells, "Scum! Get them all out! Fuck the McClures!"
Another guard appears to my left, shielding me from the older men throwing objects and disgusting words at me.
What the hell?
"It's their fucking fault!" another shouts, something hitting the back of my leg. Gareth wraps his arms under me and pulls me to safety, into the resource centre. He closes the doors behind two more guards, locking them, frowning at the building riot trying to get to us.
His lip is bleeding.
"What's going on?" I ask as he checks me over, hands on my face, my head, my arms. He looks calm, but behind his eyes is a different story as he wipes the spittle from my cheek with his sleeve. "Why are they this mad?"
This usually happens to my dad or my mum, never has it been this extreme with me.
Something hits the glass, rupturing the window.
I gasp. My heart is starting to race in fear.
Gareth drags me behind him, barricading me between his body and the wall.
Frank shoves himself through the back entrance, my mum behind him with body armour on. He tosses two bulletproof vests at Gareth, and my panic kicks in when I notice the worry on Mum's expression as she pulls me into an embrace.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" she asks in a rush, and I shake my head.
She checks me over, anyway. "What's going on?" I ask her.
The back door is thrown open again, and Eric marches in with around ten guards behind him, all suited up. He sees the armour in Gareth's hands, huffs, and takes one from him to drag over my head. He's not looking at me, completely in the zone, but I instantly feel safer with him around. Pulling the straps, I feel like my body is being crushed as he secures the vest around me.
"Stay behind me, Dan," he orders, not giving me eye contact. Then he glances over his shoulder at Gareth, who is pulling at his straps. Eric helps him, saying something quietly that has him nodding as he checks over the vest. Eric pats his shoulder hard, turning to everyone waiting for instructions. "We need to get back to the manor, or at least get to the bunker."
"No! You need to get the kids out of the school and nursery!"
Eric pulls a gun out of the holster attached to his leg, and my eyes widen. I've never seen him with a gun before. He ensures it's loaded, mutters something to the other guards, and turns back to me. "All the children have been taken to safety. Orla is there, too." He tilts his head to the rioters, nearly smashing through the glass at the entrance as he speaks to everyone. Not one voice can be heard but Eric's, echoing through the building, except the yelling coming from outside. "Five people are dead, they want answers. Remember, boys, our main focus is to keep the McClures unharmed, got it? We do what it takes."
They all nod once. Gareth comes to stand beside me.
"How is that our fault?" Mum asks, hands on her hips while Frank fastens her armour.
"You gave the go-ahead for the contraception injection," Eric tells my mum, and her face pales. "Which has so far killed five women. All under twenty-five." His eyes find mine, and I frown. "In the last six hours."
I feel fine.
But God. Those poor girls...
"They blame us," I say, tears pooling.
Eric tells us the plan. Me and my mum are the priority to get to safety, that the underground bunker at the labs is probably the quickest and best place until they settle the angry mob. If they can settle the angry mob. We agree, because what else can we do? We are targets, as usual, so we must hide.
Where the hell is my dad?
Eric takes my arm when everyone makes their way to the back entrance. "You feel okay?" he asks me quietly, continuously looking up, making sure my mum doesn't catch on. "Have you been sick... Anything?"
I shake my head.
He chews his cheek. "A few have fallen pregnant."
No.
Not happening.
I refuse to even think about that right now.
"I'll be fine," I say with a tight smile, reassuring him, and Gareth nudges Eric from behind for us to move. "I promise," I add in as his hand squeezes mine for half a second before he moves away to stand at the front of the circle forming around me and my mum.
Mum holds my hand. I gulp, and as soon as we get outside, the mob swarms us as the guards battle to get through them safely.
Bottles fly over our heads, threats of death and something I'd rather not repeat.
Mum's fingers grip around mine.
A deafening sound of raging thunder crashes through the air, filling the dome with a deadly echo as something whizzes past me. A gunshot that misses me by inches.
My automatic reaction is to close off my mind. Like an anxiety attack engulfing me until all I can hear is the lyrics to the song, Zombie, I repeat over and over again, in an attempt to calm myself while hands grasp at me from all angles.
But you see, it's not me, it's not my...family. In your head. In your head. They are fighting.
In slow motion, I'm being hauled away with my mum, the rioters scattering as another shot is fired, my ears ringing from the bang, heart racing.
With their tanks, and their bombs. And their bombs, and their guns.
There's a guard on the ground. Frank hovers over him with blood seeping through his finger, shouting at the ones surrounding us to keep going.
In your head, in your head, they are crying.
Strong arms are yanking me away, but as I get a clear view, my mind unravels from the void I had been falling into. My chest tightens, mouth wide open in horror as an inaudible scream tears from my throat when my eyes land on who it is.
Through the wall of guards currently escorting us to safety, I see a panicked Eric crouching on the ground, bellowing orders at everyone to get help. His trembling hands are stained crimson, cradling Gareth's head.
_________
Thoughts?
Predictions?
Thanks for always being patient with my updates. This is my longest chapter yet, so hopefully it makes up for the delay!
Edited by laurenwolfe12