Hot Blooded (11 page)

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Authors: Jessica Lake

BOOK: Hot Blooded
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Pandora was there, standing in front of the mirror and fussing with her eye make-up. I hadn't heard her come in.

"Lily," she said, catching my eye in the mirror, "why do you look so surprised? You doing lines in there? It's rude not to share, you know."

I forced a laugh. "Uh, no. You just - I didn't hear you come in, you surprised me."

"Did I? I'm sorry. Just checking my face. Also wondering why it is that a girl who makes decent money needs to be stealing pint glasses."

I blinked. Fuck.
Fuck!

"Oh, I, uh, I was just, I thought it would be nice to have some at home and, um, I don't have as much money as you-"

Pandora turned to face me. "Listen, I'm going to spare you the embarrassment of making up a story. Are you a copper?"

I froze.

"Don't worry, we're alone - and I'm not trying to ruin anything here, Lily, I'm just curious is all. You're the first girl Daddy's ever hired for the agency that I didn't go to school with and you were just sort of plopped in one day with no warning. I thought it was odd. Then you seemed so damned eager to do nothing with any of us except come down here to watch the fights. I invited you out loads of times. Nothing. You only wanted to come here. And I can see you dancing around that hottie - Callum - like there's something holding you back. It just got me thinking, is all."

As soon as I was able to move again, I bent down and looked under the door of the other stall to make sure we really were alone. Heat prickled up the back of my neck and rose into my cheeks. I had to make a decision, and I had about ten seconds to make it. My mind raced through my knowledge of Pandora. Rich, privileged, bossy, fun, but quick on her feet when she wanted to be and smarter than she at first came across. Her father was retired from his job as one of the very highest-up at the Met, and he was still friendly with Superintendent Akin. The PR agency was something he ran on behalf of one of Pandora's brothers, who had decided that he'd rather be partying in Thailand than bothering to run his business. It had been coincidence that his daughter and her friends happened to hang out at the same Club that we wanted to investigate, and Akin had taken the opportunity to ask a favor of an old, retired friend. It was that - Pandora's father being an ex-cop - that made the decision for me. Her father had made the Met his life. Hopefully Pandora had some kind of familial loyalty to law enforcement? I took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

"OK. Alright, yes, I'm a cop. I'm a DCI. There's an ongoing investigation into the Streatham Men's Club and I'm leading it."

I looked down at the dirty bathroom floor and took another breath as a feeling of possible impending doom enveloped me. "And Pandora, I hope you can keep this to yourself because if you don’t, you may be risking letting a murderer go free, not to mention possibly my own career - or hell, my life, because these people have shown they're willing to take drastic measures."

Pandora covered her mouth with her hand and bounced up and down.

"Oh my God! Oh my God Lily - if your name is even Lily - how exciting! How perfectly exciting! You're a real-life badass cop gone undercover to catch the bad guys!"

I bit back a patronizing 'Jesus Christ' - everything was a fucking game to Pandora - and confirmed that my name was indeed Lily.

"Oh wow. WOW! This is so cool. I thought it was so weird the way Daddy hired you, I knew it. I knew it! And then those glasses tonight, you're collecting DNA samples, aren't you? This is just like one of those American TV shows. How wonderful."

I stood in front of Pandora, unsmiling and waiting for her to calm down. When she seemed to, I had a few questions of my own.

"So I have to ask you this, Pan, because the answers will determine whether or not I'm still safe here - at the Club, I mean - but have you discussed this with anyone? Do all of the other girls know?"

She looked annoyed at that. "What? Lily, I'm sorry, but do you take me for a fucking imbecile?"

"I don't know, Pandora, are you? You certainly seem very amused by all of this. Someone was murdered. I'm trying to catch who did it. I'm sorry if I don't really see anything funny or entertaining about that."

Pandora's body language had changed entirely in the space of less than a minute. She looked me in the eye.

"OK, Lily. Alright. There's no need to patronize me. I know you think I'm some spoiled rich girl who's never had to struggle for anything - you're actually pretty much right about that, too. But as you'll be well aware, my father was the Deputy Commissioner for eight years and as I hope you'll also be aware, I'm not utterly stupid. Of course I haven't mentioned it to anyone, nor will I. Your secret is safe with me - and I mean that, I have not and I will not tell a soul. You might want to try being a little less condescending, though."

At the same time my body was relaxing with relief that Pandora had kept her mouth shut, my irritation levels were rising. Was I being given a goddamned lecture by someone who had just blown my cover - admittedly only to herself - in the very venue I was investigating? She could see I was pissed off, too.

"Want one?" She asked, leaning back against the sink and pulling a pack of cigarettes out of her bag.

I shook my head as she lit up.

"Listen, Lily. I'm sorry I got all silly there for a moment. I know what you think of me - of us - you think you hide it well, but you don't."

I didn't quite know what to say to that so I just stood there for a few seconds not speaking and frankly surprised to be getting some level of realness out of Pandora.

"Alright," I replied, "Are we being truthful now? What do you think I think of you? Because from my perspective it's mainly hanging out with a group of people I have nothing in common with and whose social coding I don't know very well. Most of the time I'm just praying I don't say something that might allude to the fact that I didn't go to the best schools or spend all my winters in Klosters. I feel like an alien with you guys, but you're wrong if you think I don't like you. I just don't understand you or your world. If anything, I feel like you all think of me as some Canadian weirdo who got foisted on you."

Pandora cocked her head to the side, giving the distinct impression that she was actually listening to what I said.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I'm constantly paranoid that I'm going to use the wrong fork at lunch and out myself as a savage."

"Huh," Pandora said, taking another delicate drag on her cigarette. "I never thought of it that way. You just seem so, I don't know, independent, or not really interested. Like you think we're all boring and stuck-up."

It was one of those conversations, one of those honest, rare interactions where two people who may not understand each other well just decide to listen to each other in good faith. So I went with it.

"I don't think you're boring and stuck-up, Pandora. I mean, maybe I do - or maybe I did, a little. But part of that is jealousy or maybe some kind of inferiority complex. Everyone treats you with such deference, and you're all so damn...confident. I'm actually kind of glad we're talking about this."

"Yeah," Pandora replied, "me too."

That conversation in the bathroom of the Streatham Men's Club changed my relationship with Pandora. I felt it happening as we were talking, but it continued after that. She kept my secret and that made me feel a lot freer to trust her - not with information about the investigation, but just with the usual things women share with other women. She was warmer towards me, too. We probably would have stayed in there for hours, talking up a storm, if we hadn't been interrupted by a sharp knocking on the door and Gazza's voice on the other side:

"Is someone smoking in there? This is a no-smoking building."

Pandora and I widened our eyes at each other, grinning. Gazza was constantly smoking in his office and the whole place reeked of it.

I mouthed the words "what a dick" at Pan and she giggled as she ran her cig under the tap water and threw it in the garbage. When we walked out Gazza was standing there, glaring at us.

"No smoking, girls."

Gazza was exactly the type of man who called grown women 'girls'. I thought Pandora might be about to deliver a biting retort when Callum walked up and addressed Gazza himself.

"What's going on? You want me to kick these troublemakers out? You ready to go, Lily?"

I looked at Pandora and she just gave me a quick nod and a smile. "Have a good night, Lily. I'll see you at the office."

Chapter 13: Callum

 

Lily tucked her arm under mine after we walked out of the Club and I couldn't help leaning down to kiss the top of her head.

"Mmm," I said, "you smell... fruity."

"Do I?" She asked, looking up at me. I loved it when Lily looked up at me like that."It's probably shampoo. The store only had the brand that makes you smell like melon and kiwi."

"That's handy, because I prefer my women to smell like fruit salad."

She giggled."So, where are you taking me? Another pub?"

"Actually, yes, but somewhere specific. It has snooker tables."

"Oh! Really? Are you going to teach me how to play?"

"Well, I can probably teach you some basics, but it's going to take more than one night to make a snooker player out of you."

She leaned into me then, so I got another whiff of her shampoo on the cold night air and it crossed my mind to take her home instead. Except I knew she wouldn't go for it. She was as wary as a wild animal and she wasn't going to be led easily, that much was certain. I was still trying to pretend, at that point, that I wasn't already completely sucked in.

When we got to the pub it was busy, but not too bad. I recognized a bunch of the regulars and we exchanged nods. This made Lily give me a curious look.

"Is this your 'local’?”

"Yes, it is. Did you think it was the Streatham Club? Nah, that's work. This is the pub I had my first drink in, the one I spent my teenage years puking in the toilets of. This is my neighborhood pub," I told her, thinking it was best to leave out the parts that involved myself and various girls and what we got up to in those same grotty toilets.

She looked around, taking everything in in that careful way she had about her.

"It's nice. I like it. The atmosphere is more relaxed than the Streatham Club."

I asked her what she was drinking and bought us each a pint. Then I took her to the back where the two snooker tables were and we sat down to watch for a few minutes.

"So, how is this different from pool?" She asked, facing me. I liked it when Lily asked me questions. In fact, after she asked me that one it occurred to me that maybe one of the reasons I'd brought her to the pub in the first place was specifically so she would ask me questions I knew the answers to. It was my territory.

"Do you know pool, then?"

She laughed. "Nope. I mean, I know the balls need to go in the pockets, but not much else."

"Well then, I guess it doesn't matter much. But snooker is more fun than pool, more complicated. The table is bigger and the balls are smaller."

Did I catch her smirking at the smaller balls comment? I couldn't tell.

"Why are there so many red balls?"

"Those are worth one point. You always have to pot a red ball before you pot a colored ball - and the colored balls are worth more. The black ball is worth the most."

"Ah, OK. Do you think we can play?"

I wanted nothing more than to play, because playing would involve coaching her on her stance, and that would involve bending over her from behind.

"Sure, let them finish this one and then we can have a go."

"OK!"

Everything about being with Lily made me happy. I could have stayed there watching other people play snooker, listening to her adorably enthusiastic comments for days on end. I still wasn't sure what exactly it was about her that had me so entranced - until I met her I'd never quite been able to believe it whenever any of my mates fell madly in love. I'd just assumed they were exaggerating for their girlfriend's benefit. But Lily was starting to make me think I'd been very wrong.

When our turn came I got my chance, standing close behind her and showing her how to bend over and place her fingers on the table to balance the cue properly.

"I bet you love this," she commented, grinning over her shoulder at me.

"Not at all," I replied."Just trying to help a poor colonial who can't play snooker properly."

She snort-laughed at that and then I bent down closer, so I could feel her body against mine. Jesus, was I going to get a fucking hard-on in the middle of the pub? Her ass was right there, and every part of me wanted to reach down, grasp her hips and pull her back against me, hard. With some difficulty, I resisted.

"Now, you're trying to get one of the red balls in one of the pockets."

"With the white ball?"

"Yes. Just take your time."

"I don't know how hard to hit it."

"Just hit it as hard as you think it needs. You'll be rubbish at first, you're just trying to get a feel for the table and the balls."

She pulled the cue back and then pushed it gently forward - too gently - sending the white ball into one of the red balls. It ended up about six inches from the pocket. It wasn't bad - in fact it was surprisingly good for a first timer, she just hadn't hit it hard enough.

"I need to hit it harder."

"Yeah. Go again."

"Isn't it your turn?"

"Yes, but this is practice, try again."

That time, when she bent down over the table and I leaned over her to 'check her stance,' she pushed her ass back against me and what had been a comfortable semi rapidly became a lot more.

"Lily..."

She glanced back over her shoulder, smiling innocently. That alone would have been enough, but her round, firm ass against my crotch felt so good I wanted to rip her clothes off right there.

"What? Is something wrong?" She asked, biting her lower lip and looking me right in the eyes.

She knew what she was doing. She pushed back against me even harder. Just before she took the shot I lowered one hand to her hip and then, when she took it, pulled her back to me.

A collective 'oooh' went up from the few people who were standing around waiting their own turn - or, as I suspected, enjoying the view of Lily's ass. She'd nicked the tabletop with the cue. Shit.

"That was
your
fault!" She said, turning to me.

It took me a few minutes to remember that I now had enough money to pay Paul - the pub owner - for the damaged table. He was going to be fucked off, though, because the table was going to be out of commission for at least the rest of the night. Lily, after looking around and seeing the dismayed looks on the faces of the people watching, realized that the nick on the table was a bigger deal than she'd assumed it was.

"Oh shit, Callum. Did I wreck the table? I'll pay for it. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. I'll pay for it. We should probably get out of here, though, because we're not going to be popular tonight."

I hustled her out of the pub before Paul had time to find us and have a meltdown. I'd go back the next day and pay him for the damage. Lily was pretty embarrassed, though.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry. I didn't realize those tables were so easily torn or I would have been more careful."

"Nah, I should have warned you about it. And I probably should have kept my hands to myself when you were taking your shot."

Lily shot me a wicked smile. "I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself, Callum."

Oh fuck. I reached down and grabbed one of her hips, digging my fingers in and trying to think of a way to get her back to my place.

"Just tell them I'm Canadian and don't understand how things work outside of my log cabin in the woods."

A log cabin in the middle of the woods with Lily. That didn't sound bad at all.

"Do you actually have a log cabin, then?" I asked."In the middle of the deep, dark woods?"

She grinned. "Of course, all Canadians do. We don't have cities in Canada. Didn't you know? No, for real, I've stayed in log cabins in the forest before - some people use them as weekend homes or go stay for a few weeks during the summer. It can be pretty idyllic, as long as you don't run out of firewood or get eaten by angry bears."

"I'll kill all the angry bears who come after you, Lily Parker."

I'd meant the comment as a joke, but when it came out of my mouth it sounded more serious than I'd intended. Thank God for the dark evening, because if I wasn’t mistaken I may have felt some heat in my cheeks, and the last thing I needed was to be seen blushing like a goddamned schoolgirl. Lily looked up at me, her own face betraying no sign of joking.

"Will you?"

Would I? Would I kill angry bears for Lily?

"Yes. There aren't too many of them in England so I'm not sure how much use my angry-bear-fighting skills will be, but yes, they're on official notice to leave Lily Parker alone or face the consequences."

She laughed and snuggled her head into my arm as we walked along the pavement.

"Where are we going?"

I decided to take her to Streatham Gardens on an impulse. I wasn't even sure why at the time, although looking back I can see it was because I wanted to feel - I wanted to
be
- closer to her. I knew she knew I was trying to get into her knickers, but I wanted her to know it was more than that, more than me trying to add another notch to my bedpost. Much more.

"We're almost there, you'll see," I told her, eying a couple of teenage boys who looked for a second like they might be thinking of checking her out. They looked away silently before Lily even noticed them.

Within minutes, we were there. Streatham Gardens. A bucolic name so unsuited to its almost post-apocalyptic environs that I'd wondered if it had been a deliberate joke by the planners. Streatham Gardens was a council estate - and not the kind that middle-class people were moving into in order to be closer to central London. It was abandoned in 2011 but I remembered it as it had been during the endless days of my youth - full of people. Noisy, unsupervised children, harried single mums, hard-drinking men, dealers on the streets and junkies in the stairwells. It was still covered in graffiti, some of which had been put there by yours truly.

"What's this?" Lily asked when we got there and she had a chance to look around."Does anyone even live here?"

"Nope. The government moved everyone out in 2011. Failed social experiment. I just wanted to check something."

Lily seemed nervous.

"Don't worry, there's no one here," I reassured her.

"It looks like the kind of place you see on TV shows about serial killers."

She was right. But even if there had been someone there, a random smackhead or homeless person, it wouldn't be anyone I couldn't handle.

"Just come with me, OK? You're not in any danger, I promise."

She turned her face up to me so I could see the streetlight reflected in her dark eyes.

"OK, Callum."

She trusted me to keep her safe. It was a good feeling. It made me never want to do anything to make her think her trust in me had been misguided. I took her hand and led her through the maze of ugly brick tower-blocks until I got to Tower E and a heavy, rusted metal door. It was open.

"Come on, follow me."

She balked slightly. "Callum, what are we doing here? This place is scary. Are we even allowed to be here?"

"Lily, just wait. It's worth it, I promise. Come on, we're almost there."

So she came with me and we walked up thirty-six stories of concrete stairs until we were standing in front of another door, both of us panting and leaning on the walls. I let her catch her breath and then pushed the door open.

We were standing on the roof of the building with London spread out below us on all sides like a blanket of lights.

"Oh, Callum..."

Lily's voice was quiet. I watched her turning around, taking in the view from every angle. She was entranced with her adopted city, and it was one of the reasons I'd wanted her to see the view from the roof of Tower Block E. But I was entranced with her. We stood up there silently for a few minutes while Lily looked out over the city and I looked only at Lily, trying to figure out what to do with everything I was feeling.

"Is that Canary Wharf?" She asked, pointing northwards.

I nodded. "Yeah, that's it."

"It's so beautiful, Callum, the whole city. It's so
big
. It seems to go on forever, doesn't it?"

For some reason, I found myself barely able to speak up there on the roof, at least for the first few minutes. I was still hard, aching to feel her body against mine, to put my hands on her - for any physical contact whatsoever. But it wasn't just that - it would have been a lot easier if it had been.

"Sometimes I think it does go on forever. I've never really travelled much, and I know that makes some people think of me as, I don't know, as limited or stupid. But look - look at it all out there. There's more out there in what we can see right now than we could know or experience in two lifetimes. Ten lifetimes."

"Yeah, you're right," she said quietly."How do you know about this place?"

I stayed where I was, thinking of some way to tell her everything that place - Streatham Gardens - had been to me. "This is my old stomping grounds. Most of my mates lived here when I was still at school. I spent more time here as a kid than I did at home or at school."

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