Crush (A Night Fire Novel Book 1) (2 page)

I turned to walk away, his had wrapped around my arm to stop me from leaving. Warmth oozed through my skin, his firm grip pressed hard against the delicate skin of the under side of my arm.

“What?” I hissed. “Surely you're not expecting me to bail you out.”

His skin was rough, he had to have a job that required some kind of manual labor. His gaze was still pinned to me, a slight wolfish grin permanently stuck on his face.

“I got fired tonight so I kind of need what little money I have so you'll just have to sit and stew.”

He hadn't even said a word,
not a hey, how you doing
or a
sorry I got you fired
. Nothing. He really was too dangerous for me. Those eyes were an addiction, I could dreamily stare into them all damned night. Lush brown hair flopped around his softly tanned skin. A silver bar poked through the skin under his lip on the left side, another through the eyebrow. A flick of silver drew me back to the bar through his lip, almost like he moved it to keep me enthralled.

Another ghost of a smile crept across those lips, instantly I thought of all the places where I wanted them on my body. He could start in between my legs and then he might earn my forgiveness. Maybe. It might take a few goes.
Mind out of the gutter Frankie
my mind chided me. Bitch, how dare she interrupt my lustful thoughts.

“I can't afford your bail. I have a hundred in the bank with rent due tomorrow and I seriously doubt I'm getting paid this week. Someone kind of ruined that chance.”

I pulled my arm away with a lot of relief he let me go. With a nod to the cop who seemed more interested in the dirt under his fingernails, I turned to walk down the wide corridor and ignore the hoots and requests.

“Hey.”

Well I suppose miracles do happen. I turned back to the silent one who had finally said something.

“I'll see you in a couple of hours for breakfast.”

I crinkled my face with confusion. He was leaning on one side with one arm still poked through the bar, his smutty gaze watching me.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

I pushed through the door glad to be free from what could only be the most bizarre conversation I had ever had. My intentions had been less than honorable I suppose. Secretly I had hoped to learn a little more about him but the most that I had got was a surname. Andrews, it was far too common to try and stalk him. Not that I'd want to, he... okay, that was a lie. I would totally stalk him.

Chapter Two

The only food in my cupboard was a box of stale cereal which I had to eat, I was starving. There was no chance of tucking into the leftover food from the restaurant. It was a great little perk, all of the staff could take home whatever couldn't be kept for another night. There wasn't always a lot but on occasions there would be enough for me to get a decent meal. Not any more.

I sat on the wide window ledge in my apartment, looking at the glittering lights from the strip. It was a view that was a slight sliver between two buildings and down the street. My moving here was to be a dancer, not the pole variety but maybe the burlesque kind. It hadn't been successful at all. That's why I was working at Vinnie's. Was. No more, gone forever. It had been a reasonable job, the pay was enough to cover everything if I was a good girl. Most nights the patrons were well behaved, it was only a few that caused problems. I didn't know who the bigger issue was, the blonde or the savior.

The brightly lit strip had been like a beacon to me, drawn to it like a moth. I had come to Vegas with big ideas, big plans. Much like everyone else I guess. My friends had talked of their dreams and goals, quite often it would include going to somewhere like LA or New York. But I was different, the dancer in me craved the bright lights and the thrill of adrenaline as I danced for a crowd. I had a lot of dreams, it involved a lot sore feet and aching muscles. Now all I wanted to do was pay the bills on time which was rather sad. Now I would have to return home with my tail between my legs because it was unlikely that the landlord would give me an extension on the rent. It was due tomorrow and that's all there was to it.

I had packed my things, even after a year of being here I still only had one bags worth of stuff. The mattress on the floor would have to be left behind, the few bits of kitchen utensils and crockery forgotten. There was nothing else here that I owned. There was nothing else here full stop. Lucky that the apartment was just one large room that consisted of a lounge room, dining room, kitchen and bedroom all rolled into one. Oh, and the bathroom behind the kitchen. It housed the toilet and shower and it was smaller than the kitchen. My parents pantry was bigger than my bathroom, not that I would ever admit that to them.

They thought I was doing well, they were fed and believed a great lie that I was a dancer in a show that I definitely kept my clothes on for. I also worked part time at restaurant which they did remark that I would be burned out quickly if I wasn't careful. I wanted to laugh, there was no chance of that happening.

I had sat by the window for several hours, hoping that my last memories of Las Vegas would be reasonable even if my meal wasn't. Tomorrow I would take a long walk along the strip to soak it all in, imagining what could have been. My mind often liked to take a flight of fancy, pretending that things were better. Even if it really was pure hell. Okay, so that might have been a tad extreme. I worked to pay the bills, I auditioned for any dancing position that became available. Except the pole variety, I had promised my father that I would not remove my clothes in public for money. Which I could proudly say that I hadn't.

One last night on the floor before I go home. A decent bed in a room bigger than my entire apartment awaited me. Proper meals that wouldn't leave me hungry and wasn't stale or in a box, steaming hot and delicious. Hugs and kisses on the top of my head while telling me that whilst I might have been silly for trying at least I had. Vegas would be out of my system forever, my parents would coo that I could stay in my childhood bedroom for as long as I wanted. Which I didn't want. There was something about Nevada that had gripped me hard, I didn't want to leave. I loved my parents but this was my home, this was my world.

Everything was packed, the place was as clean as I could get it and I had fallen asleep on the mattress in my jeans and shirt which was rather stupid but after the night that I had just endured, I didn't care.

I woke to a thud and a few muttered expletives, with a gasp I sat up and looked at my once clean kitchen that was now a mess. The bench was covered with food and the smell of bacon sizzled through the room. One long body stood up from the under-bench cabinet, dumping the plates onto the counter with a clatter.

What. The. Fuck.
It was the savior, in my kitchen, making a mess, cooking breakfast. He turned and saw me staring at him, he jutted his head with that hooded sexy smirk and turned back to whatever it was he was doing. The door swung open and bodies started piling into my minuscule apartment.

“Dude, there isn't even a table.” the blonde one said to me. “Are we going to have to sit on the floor to eat breakfast?”

I had been invaded by five pests. Mindlessly I wondered if Mister Barton will make me spray them before I leave. As I frowned I pulled my shoes and socks on and wondered how long my unwanted guests would be here for.

Blondie scoffed and sat on the bare floor opposite me, leaning on the wall. The one with black hair wandered to the window. Well, it was two steps for his long legs.

“Killer view.” he crooned.

It wasn't. He was being polite.

“Is there like some door to the rest of the place?” asked the third, he was the chair wielding maniac.

He was searching with one heavy frown, scratching the back of his head. I heard a huh from him as he inspected the bathroom, something about a wardrobe. I didn't have one, simple. Considering that I only had a bag worth of clothes I didn't deem it necessary. The fourth sat on the floor against the wall opposite me, more interested in playing with his phone.

Outside my apartment I heard the heavy footsteps of Mister Barton. I gulped hard and stood to my feet, readying to brave the battle that was my rent issue. The door swung open and a happy Mister Barton wandered by, waving his hello.

“Good morning Frankie.”

“Uh, good morning.”

I frowned. What the hell was that about? I chased after him as he descended the stairs.

“Mister Barton, aren't you collecting rent this morning? Did I get my days mixed up again?”

He laughed, that big Santa belly rumbled with his infectious mirth. I couldn't help but wonder what was so funny. Sure I had used the excuse about mixing up days a few times but he had never laughed about it. Scowls yes. Laughing no.

“Your boyfriend fixed you up hun, you're good.”

And then he continued down the stairs, leaving me wondering when I got a boyfriend. My eyes darted to the partially opened door, the sound of the five pests and their laughter filled the hallway.

“Boyfriend, my ass!” I hissed, stomping back to my apartment.

I stood at the threshold of the apartment, staring at four of the pests who were sitting side by side on the floor. God, were they drinking?

“Frankie!” they cheered in unison as they held up their beer bottles.

“You want some hair of the dog, princess?” Blondie asked.

“Dude she didn't get drunk with us last night, she was working.”

Blondie thought for a moment, it was like the lights were on but no one was home. He grinned and nodded, taking a slug of his beer.

“Are you going to stand there gaping all morning? We know we're shit hot but damn girl, have some respect for your man.” chair man wielded yet again.

The four of them sniggered like little girls. I was surrounded by immature pests. Great.

“Even after he goes to the effort of making you breakfast.” the black haired one said as he shook his head. “That's just plain nasty girlfriend. I think you need to give him an apology blowie.”

What. The. Fuck. Again.

The four of them giggled, again. My head was thumping and I didn't even have a hangover. What did I do to deserve this crap? Five dead shit men in my apartment, four of them drinking at seven in the morning and the other cooking breakfast. Where the hell had the food come from? And how did they even get in here?

Maybe I could get them arrested again. If I could convince the cops to keep them in the lock up long enough for me to escape them and Vegas then I'd be set. Except that I didn't have a phone any more. Maybe I could ask my neighbor. Maybe I could kill them. Would anyone miss them? Where would I hide the bodies? It was a stupid thought, I bet I couldn't even lift one of them. All five of them were pure muscle.

“Frankie!” Blondie called out, breaking my wishful thinking. “Stop fantasizing about us and shut the door, you're letting the warm air out.”

Was that some kind of attempt at humor? I think that I'd want to keep the hot air out.

The cook wandered over with three plates, handing them to the chair wielder, the quiet one and the one with black hair.

“Dude, your girlfriend doesn't say much.” chair wielder muttered instead of a gratitude.

He shrugged and walked back to the kitchen, returning seconds later with three more plates.

“Cutlery?” Blondie asked.

“One of everything.” he muttered.

Blondie shook his head, muttering that we should have gone out for breakfast.

“This is a piss poor hotel you run princess.”

“I wouldn't accept it.” black hair muttered as he picked up his runny egg with his fingers. “That's two apology blowies now Frankie, you've got your work cut out for you.”

The cook slash pest number five stood beside me with a plate held out to me, a soft smirk on his face. I took it with a look of skepticism, taking a sniff when he turned his back.

“Dude, she doesn't trust your cooking. Ouch man, what kind of a base for a relationship is that?” The chair wielder was about to get a plate of food thrown at him. Mister black hair held up three fingers with a grin and a mouth full of food. I held up one to him. Take a guess which one. It came with a round of oohs from the four hecklers.

I shut the door and sat on my mattress, the five of them opposite me. For once they were actually quiet. I don't think that I have ever been this happy to sit in silence.

The meal was unbelievably good even if I did eat it with my fingers. I had enough of everything for me and me alone which meant that I had one set of cutlery. One dinner plate, a bread plate and a saucer, all of which were used. Then there were the three small platters that I had been meaning to take back to the restaurant after bringing leftovers home. So all in all it was a rather mismatched affair. Not that it should matter, they shouldn't even be here.

But that really wasn't my issue. That would be the lack of introduction, maybe the fact that they had broken in here and made themselves comfortable, or it could be that they kept referring to pest five as my boyfriend. What had these men been talking about?

A full stomach can allow for the mind to think straight, or at least I hoped it would. The five of them sat across from me like a panel of bad boys that were interviewing me. In some bizarre-o world of course.

“Okay.” I scrubbed my face with frustration. “I have lots of questions but how about we start with introductions because I don't like having strange unknown people in my apartment.”

“I think, princess.” Blondie began. “That you will find that it's now his apartment.”

He pointed to pest number five sitting beside him.

“You're kicking me out?”

“Did I say that?” Blondie turned to the three on the other side of him. “I don't recall saying that, did I say it?”

They shook their heads. Blondie sat back with a sigh of relief.

“Princess, you really need to stop putting words in my mouth. In fact you can't put anything in my mouth. You had your opportunity last night. This man doesn't chase after his bro's girlfriend.”

“You're brothers?” I frowned. They looked nothing like each other.

“There she goes again.” His hand flicked out at me as he huffed.

“I think I'm getting a headache again.” I muttered, rubbing my temples.

“It might be a tumor.” black hair offered.

Chair wielder thumped his arm. “Dude, don't say that kind of shit. They want to grow old together. You know, wrinkles and gray hair, the works.”

“Names!” I yelled. “For Christ's sake, your names!”

Five pairs of eyes stared at me.

“Taking the lord's name.” Chair wielder scoffed as he rolled his eyes.

I growled at them, staring with pure fury. As I stood I grabbed my bag and opened the door, thumping my way down the stairs.

“Frankie.” Mister Barton smiled and then frowned. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Home. I don't know those men and they have made a mess of the apartment, you should make them clean it. Thank you for being so forgiving with my lateness in paying rent.”

I pushed through the glass door, ignoring the confusion on his face. The window of my apartment slid up, Blondie stuck his head through.

“Frankie!” he cheerfully called out. “Where you going princess?”

Without even turning back to look at him, I raised my arm and flipped the bird at him. A hand tugged me back, I turned to see my so called savior standing there.

“Come on, we can go for a drive.” his head nodded to the red beast of a car that sat a few steps from us.

“Name.”

He rolled his eyes with a sly grin, tugging my hand along the path.