Craving (26 page)

“Bunny.” Gran murmured, stroking the picture with her fingertip. “He was Eve’s dog.”

Huh? I didn’t remember her having a friend called Eve.

“We used to live there.” She pointed to the next picture, and I dragged my attention back for the rest of the photos. Coincidence. That’s all.

When we’d pored over them all, I folded them back into the little wallet and pressed it into her hand. “I want you to have these.” I hesitated, my mouth dry. I finished in a rush. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, Gran. I might not see you…” I couldn’t say it. I sucked in a quick breath. “I might not see you for a long time.”

She regarded me anxiously, her bottom lip trembled, and I saw her eyes filling up.

“Don’t go, Dante.”

I felt like a shit, especially when she wrapped her arms around me and sniffled onto my shoulder. “Don’t cry, please, Gran.” I patted her back, feeling stupid and useless. I could have just slipped the photos into her bedside cabinet, and she could have found them for herself. “Come on, Gran.” I tried to sound cheerful. “Let’s go and see the puppies.”

* * * *

As before, Gran sat on the floor, a sleepy pup in her lap. Her tears seemingly forgotten, she giggled up at me. “This one looks like Bunny.” Her gaze flicked to my left. “Doesn’t he?”

My neck prickled as she spoke. I knew who had just joined us.

Eve dropped to the floor and stroked the puppy, fondling his ears and dropping a kiss on his black nose. “He does, Alice. He looks just like Bunny.” Her eyes met mine, and she winked at me.

I snapped my gaping mouth shut and tried to haul my thoughts in order. Before I could launch into a barrage of questions, Eve spoke in a soft voice, more gentle than I’d previously heard her use.

“I often come to see Alice, don’t I?”

Gran beamed at her before playing with the puppy some more. “We’ve been friends a long time.”

I matched her soft tone. “How come I never met you before? I think I’d remember you.”

Her eyes met mine. For a fraction of a second the goth-girl vanished and was replaced by a slim, middle-aged woman, dark hair tied back off her face.

I blinked, and Eve returned, dark curls bouncing and bubble gum popping. O-kay. Something else to add to the crazy pile of shit I didn’t understand about my life.

“We’ll talk later, Dante, but you already know I can’t tell you anything.” She stroked the puppy some more. “I’ll look after Alice, though. You don’t need to worry about that.”

Chapter

~13~

13.1 Katherine

I
could feel the bass beats vibrating through the ground before we even got into the club. Standing in line had taken what felt like hours, pressed up against a legion of damp, leather and denim-clad bodies. Who’d have thought it would be such a popular venue on a wet Thursday night? Melissa and Tristan made a beeline for the bar, already three-deep in customers, leaving me with their friend, Nash.

The noise was incredible. A tall punk rocker on the stage bounced on the balls of his feet as he screeched into his microphone. I stared in fascination at his Mohawk. It stayed glued in place while he leapt around, strutting to the screams from the audience.

Guitars wailed and drums pounded in a tangled wall of sound, and I struggled to get my bearings. Lasers flashed and swirled, lighting the band in garish blasts of green and red. It made the lead singer look like a demon from a 60’s B-movie. He just needed horns and a cape to complete the image.

Nash bent to speak to me. I felt his breath on my cheek, but couldn’t make out a word he’d said. “What?”

He cupped one hand around my ear. “Wanna dance?”

I shook my head. He shrugged and moved closer. “Bones isn’t on for ages yet.”

“How do you know?”

“They close the gig. Come on, darlin’.”

Melissa and Tristan were still in the line for drinks. “One dance,” he wheedled, draping an arm around my shoulder as he spoke. He must have seen my hesitation. A grin flashed across his face, and he led me to a gap in the sweaty mass of people.

The music ratcheted up another notch, the punk now chanting a chorus so garbled, I couldn’t make out any words clearly.

Nash jiggled alongside me, grinning when I stepped closer. I’d been moving out of the way of a guy overloaded with beer bottles, but Nash didn’t know that, and he wrapped his arms around me. I briefly wondered what Dante’s reaction would be if he saw me now.

Seeing Tristan and Melissa returning was my cue to wriggle free. They claimed a table, and we crowded around it, Nash sitting far closer than was comfortable. I thought again of Dante. He’d be at home here among the tattoos and leathers, and he’d fit in far better than me. A wave of longing hit me, and I rubbed my eyes. It felt as though he was here somewhere, close by, and I scanned the dance floor hoping to catch sight of him. Tristan dragged Melissa back into the seething mass of dancers and Nash quirked an eyebrow at me, but I shook my head this time and picked up my beer.

Several songs later, I felt my phone vibrating and found a text from Josh:

Having dinner with some of S’s contacts, c u in an hour, J

This was going to be a long night.

13.2 Dante

There was somewhere else I wanted to go after seeing Gran, and I cruised up and down the back streets looking for the right place, a large and anonymous tattoo parlor. The artist raised his eyebrows when I told him what I wanted, but we quickly agreed on a design, and I spent the next hour with my eyes closed, while he worked.

Eve refused to talk to me on the long, slow journey back to Manchester, and it was made even longer and slower when my bike started coughing and spluttering at low revs. The damp had obviously seeped into the ignition system, and I had to stop several times to let it dry out again. Eve scowled at me when I tried to talk to her, Ingrid and Simeon stayed absent, and since I’d forgotten to charge my phone while I was with Gran, I couldn’t even text Josh.

Images of Kitten were on a continuous loop in my brain. At least I had the comfort of knowing she was lots of miles away.

It was dark and miserable when I finally parked up close to Ink City, and the weather suited my mood perfectly. Finding a callbox, I rang the tattoo parlor, and waited, tapping the glass impatiently with my fingernails.

Giant answered with his usual cheery greeting. “‘Lo, Ink City.”

A wave of sadness hit when I replied, “It’s me.”

I heard a hiss of indrawn breath. “Dante? You okay?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to know if you’d heard from Nan?”

“Nothing. You know what they’re saying, don’t you? First they fingered you for Ash, and now you’re in the fucking frame for this. Bastards.”

“Thanks. Let me know if you hear anything, okay?”

“Yeah. You’d best stay away, mate, the Police are convinced you’ll come back here, and there were a couple of journos called in too. One from the telly. Rezzie was all excited. They said they were friends of yours, but I figured they were just after another angle. Fucking gutter press.”

After promising to keep my distance—
yeah, permanently, although Giant couldn’t know that—
I headed back to the city center and parked a short walk from
Armageddon
. I called for Eve in my head and after waiting in the drizzle for a few minutes, she walked up behind and goosed me. I smiled. She hadn’t deserted me.

After a brief bout of anxiety that the bouncers might recognize me, I slipped through the main entrance of
Armageddon
tailgating a noisy group of rockers. Unfortunately, this was as far ahead as I’d planned. I figured that Nan would most likely be held on the top floor somewhere. Please God, not that room where I’d been locked up.

Her panicked phone call niggled at me. Either she’d kept her phone but hadn’t had another chance to use it, or she’d found it and had to put it back… or the worry I kept coming up against. They’d made her call me and listened while we spoke.
She might not be here at all
. I rubbed my forehead and tried to think. Alistair knew I’d be seeing him anyway, so was this extra insurance to make sure I came here?

Eve scowled at me. “God-awful music in here. Laters, Tat-Boy.” She winked and then disappeared again.

Digging in my pocket for money, I headed for the bar and stopped in my tracks when I caught a glimpse of dark red hair. Was that Kitten ahead of me? I pushed forward, earning some grunts and complaints from the other patrons and reached out to touch the girl’s bare arm.

“
Kit—
” I stuttered to a halt when the girl, a stranger, turned around. “I’m sorry.” I managed an apologetic smile and stepped back, my heart pounding and pulse banging in my ear. The drinks line surged and reformed, leaving me at the back. I sucked in a calming breath and glanced up at the stage. Staring at the manic lead singer gave me something to do while I got my emotions under control. Funny, but it felt as though she was here somewhere, just out of sight. I sauntered toward the band and let my gaze drift across the sea of dancing bodies.

She
couldn’t
be here.

Kitten should be miles away, safe with Josh and Suki.

13.3 Katherine

The punk band had finished their set and been replaced by a grungy rock band with more screeching guitar riffs and wailing solos. When Tristan and Melissa got up to dance, I let Nash drag me up too. It was preferable to fighting off his roaming hands at the table. If he felt my leg one more time, I’d dump his beer in his lap.

He inched closer on the dance floor and shimmied behind me, clamping his hands on my hips. Tristan grinned at us and then disappeared with Melissa, leaving Nash intent on dirty dancing with me. I had other ideas. I lifted his hands and stepped away, only to have him grab me from behind, both arms snaking around my waist. It’s a shame I wore low-heeled boots. I stamped hard with my right foot, making sure to tread on his toes. He yelped, but clung to me. Incensed, I jabbed with my right elbow, hoping to catch his solar plexus. I stabbed into empty space. I turned on my heel, intent on telling him to back off, but the words died in my throat.

Dante
. One fist gripped Nash’s T-shirt, the other hovered in front of his face. “Keep your fucking hands off her.” It came out as a snarl, his gaze intent on Nash and his body tense with rage. Nash gaped, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, no sound coming out. “Apologize,” growled Dante.

A space opened up around us, the other dancers backing away. Dante tightened his fist, hauling Nash a fraction closer.

“Sorry.” He squeaked the word, his eyes wide and scared.

Dante was right in his face now. “Not to me, you fucktard. To her.”

“Sorry, Kathy.”

“Her
name
is
Katherine
.”

“Sorry—Katherine!”

I held my breath. Excitement warred with indignation. Dante’s eyes met mine, and I saw pain and longing that was probably mirrored in my own.

He released Nash and it might have ended there, but Nash took a swing at Dante. His fist sailed through the air, whistling past Dante’s ear, earning a swift retaliation.

I winced at the blow he took, half wishing I’d clocked him myself.

Finally, Dante gave him a shove that left him flailing, arms windmilling, before he landed with a hard thump on his arse.

I wanted to kiss Dante, to run my hands through his hair. To tell him I wasn’t fooled by his little speech. When he grabbed my hand and hurried me to the corridors outside the main area, I went gladly. Thoughts of a passionate reunion flared in my head. He’d apologized for behaving so badly. We’d help him find Nanette.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Kitten?” He dropped my hand and folded his arms, fixing me with an icy stare.

I tried to regroup.
Failed
. The corridor was badly lit and noisy, the band almost as loud out here, and I had to sidestep to avoid a rowdy bunch of guys moving past.

Dante moved with me, waiting until we were alone before he spoke. “Don’t tell me you fancied a night out. Or is that your new boyfriend out there?” He nodded toward the dance floor. “Didn’t take you long to hook up with someone more suited to you,
Kath
-erine.” He mimicked Nash’s voice.

For a second I saw red. “How dare you,” I began, and then stopped. An image of Eve flashed in my head, a reminder of what she’d suggested. I looked closely at Dante and saw the tight line of his lips, the muscle ticking in his cheek, the fear in his eyes. “You’re the fucktard,” I whispered. Calling on every reserve of courage I could find, I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him.

There was a frozen heartbeat of resistance, and then he groaned and held me tight. He licked the seam of my lips and plunged his tongue into my mouth, turning me inside out with the intensity of the kiss. He slanted his mouth, drove deeper, and slid his hands up my body to stroke me, caressing me like a cat.

“Kitten,” he breathed. “Why are you doing this?”

I nipped his lower lip. “I know you’re trying to protect me.” He brushed warm lips down my throat and I whimpered. “You tried to drive me away but it won’t work. I know you care for me.”

He stood against me, head bowed, face buried in my shoulder. I heard him sigh, felt his breath across my skin. “I want you to be safe, and you’re not safe here.” Lifting his head, his gaze searched my face. He idly stroked one thumb over my cheekbone. “Please go, Kitten. Get the fuck away from here. I can’t handle the idea of you getting hurt.” He claimed my lips again in a hot and bruising kiss. “Go home. Go to Josh’s, or a hotel. Anywhere but here.”

“Nope, Angel. We want to help you. I need to wait for Josh anyway.”

He froze, his eyes darkening. “Josh is coming here?”

“Yes. They’re on the way here now.”

Dante turned his head and pulled in a ragged breath. Something was obviously wrong, but what? “Trust me, babe, he needs to stay away from here.” Cupping both hands around my face, he took my lips, tender and gentle, and unbearably intimate. “I need you to hang on here while I go and find Josh.”
Another kiss.
“I’ll come back and get you, I promise.”
Kiss
. “Don’t leave until I come back, okay?” He claimed one final dizzying kiss and then smoothed my hair back, took my hand, and led me back to the dance floor. He found me a stool at the edge of the bar. “Sit here. I can see you from the door as soon as I walk in.”

I nodded, unable to speak. I traced my lips with one finger as I watched him stride away. What had just happened? I curled my legs around the bar stool and tucked my bag into my chest. There was no sign of Tristan or Melissa, and Nash was probably long gone. The grunge band was still playing, and I pretended to watch them cavorting around the stage, but my eyes rarely moved from the entrance.

Digging in my bag for my phone, I didn’t notice the two men approaching until one touched my shoulder. I snapped to attention and eyed them carefully. Bouncers. They wore dark suits over beefy, muscle-bound bodies and both sported shiny SECURITY badges.

“I’m afraid there’s been some trouble.” The first man gave me a polite smile. “You need to come with us.”

13.4 Dante