Page 127 of Into the Dark
I’m not sure if he’s lying to make me feel better, because his right hand is bunched in a slight fist by his side, the skin pulled tight over his still recovering knuckles.
“Anything I shouldn’t say? Any subjects I should avoid? Politics? Immigration? Crime rates in the city?” I chance a smile.
“Just sit beside me and look pretty, yeah?” he says, eyes twinkling with amusement.
I give him an insulted look, and he reaches across to kiss me again, licking his tongue teasingly over my lips. It sends a hum through the space between my legs. Seems like weeks since I’ve had him there, inside me.
“I’m sorry,” he says as he pulls back.
“For what?” I ask.
He glances away from my eyes. “You shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have brought you here.”
“I brought you here, technically. I’m driving.”
He sighs. “You know what I mean.”
“Okay, so then you are worried?”
He shakes his head. “No, not worried. Not that. I just…I never wanted you involved like this, with him. Knowing him. Being around him. He knows too much about you already, and I don’t like it. I always wanted to keep you separate from all this, you know. You’ve always been separate from all this.”
“And soon, we’ll both be separate from all this and you won’t have to worry about that anymore.”
When he meets my eye, a look of something so hopeless seeps in that it sends a shiver through me. He licks his lips and nods. “You’re the only thing that takes my mind off this shit—you know that? You’re the only thing I want to think about. So being here, with you, it makes me…edgy.”
I lean in and press my lips to his again. “I love you. Tell me you know that.”
“I know that.” He smiles. A look of resolves settles over his face. “Let’s get this fucking over with.”
“So what’s this young girlfriend of his like?” I ask quietly as we walk toward the front door.
He turns to me, indecision on his face, then opens his mouth to say something.
“You gonna keep the lady out there in the fucking cold all night, Jay, or you coming in? Dinner’s about ready!” The voice comes from above, and I glance up to see Freddy watching us from the balcony, large glass of red wine in hand. “Door’s unlocked,” he adds with a wave.
With a quiet curse, Jake pulls me behind him toward the front door.
Freddy’s home is a sea of light gray granite and dark, polished wood. Money. It screams it from the outside and displays it from every surface inside. Taking my coat and shrugging out of his jacket, Jake lays them on a stylish leather sofa just inside the front door and leads me toward the well-lit floating staircase. It leads up but also down, clearly to a lower basement level, and low-level spotlights light the way. The sounds of music and the scent of food gets louder and stronger as we ascend.
On the first floor there’s a large open living room, kitchen, and diner, all surrounded by walls of glass. Beyond the glass I can see a well-lit wraparound garden with high trees ensuring the property is obscured from the surrounding houses. At the living room end, the spire of the old church next door is visible, as well as the familiar roof of the Olympic Stadium a mile or so away.
The floating staircase continues up to another floor, and it’s from here the music comes. In the kitchen, Freddy’s bending over a large central island stirring a silver pot with a wooden spoon. He looks up from his pot of spaghetti and smiles brightly at us both.
One of the most dangerous men in London is making spaghetti a few feet away. It seems utterly bizarre to me right then. He takes a taste from the wooden spoon, licks his lips, then sips his wine and waves us closer. Jake lets go of my hand and goes around to hug Freddy in much the same way Nick hugs my Dad.
“You never getting rid of this fucking thing then?” Freddy says, indicating Jake’s beard.
“The missus likes it.” Jake shrugs before heading toward the large American-style fridge and pulling it open. He looks utterly relaxed doing so.
“That right?” Freddy asks me, eyebrow cocked as he comes around the kitchen counter to greet me.
“I think he really suits it,” I confirm. “Hello. Nice to see you again, Freddy.”
He puts an arm around me and kisses my cheek. “Alex, you too, sweetheart. Thanks for coming all the way out here.” He beams, and I wave him off. “Jay’ll get you something to drink while I go see if my Stephanie is finished beautifying herself yet.”
“You can have one glass of wine, can’t you?” Jake asks from the fridge. He’s already pulled a beer out for himself and begins to drink from it thirstily.
“I don’t feel like it tonight, honestly. Just water,” I tell him, and he shoots me a look. I give him a look that speaks to my being nervous, and he nods, understanding.