Chapter 3
THEO
‘How are things?’
I can sense the frown in Taylor’s voice all the way down the phone.
‘Things are fine,’ I lie, plucking a stuffed narwhal off my desk and studying its fluffy, pink tusk with a bemused smile.
‘Then why isn’t she answering her phone?’
‘You’re asking the wrong person.’
‘Theo, I’m serious. I think she’s avoiding my calls.’
‘Why would she do that?’
‘Because… because she thinks I’m fussing.’
‘And are you?’
‘She’s my baby sister, she’s been my responsibility since I was fifteen years old and I gave her space once, look how that ended. I’m not about to make the same mistake again.’
‘She’s still a grown woman, Tay.’
Not the thing I should be saying, not to Taylor and not to myself. I’m all too aware of Sadie’s womanly status and willing myself to become unaware ASAP. It’s why I’ve been locked in my study for the best part of the weekend. Anything to avoid a repeat of the kitchen-collision yesterday morning…
‘…it’s not right I’m telling you.’
I tune back into what Taylor’s saying and whole-heartedly agree, even though I know we’re referring to very different things. At least I hope we are.
I wasn’t exactly listening to whatever she’d been saying after I went down the grown-woman tangent, but I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with my disobedient cock that keeps springing up like some malfunctioning jack-in-the-box.
‘What isn’t?’
‘Theo! Can you get your head out of your work for one minute and concentrate?’
She says ‘work’, I hear ‘pants’ and it’s enough to have me sitting straighter.
‘Sorry.’ I spin away from the screens churning out numbers and pull my head from the gutter. ‘You were saying?’
‘It’s wrong that she didn’t feel she could come to me when she needed me the most.’
‘She came to you, Tay.’ I get to my feet, taking the little narwhal with me. I’ve no idea how the stuffed animal got in my study but as with anything of Lottie’s, things just migrate. ‘She wouldn’t be in my home now if she hadn’t.’
‘Not when it all started, when I could have done something to get her out of there. Before he got his claws into her and messed with her head. She isn’t the same girl any more, and she won’t tell me what happened, not in detail, but…’
‘Hey, will you quit berating yourself for this.’ I walk up to the glass and take in the snaking Thames below, focus on the familiar sight rather than the unknown.
Because the unknown will only send my head down the same road as Taylor, imagining the worst and wondering if I could have saved her from it.
‘You did what you could, when you could. It wasn’t your fault she fell in love with that piece of shit. ’
‘Yeah, well, until that piece of shit is behind bars, I won’t rest.’
‘And the cops are on the case, so is Axel…’
Axel’s our business partner, our best friend since he stepped between us and the neighbourhood gang when we were thirteen.
From postcode wars to boardroom floors, council estates to the Sunday Times Rich List, we’ve made it.
Ask anyone and they’ll tell you: I’m the brains, Taylor’s the beauty, and Axel’s the brawn.
But the truth’s far more nuanced than that.
These days, I head up investments. Taylor runs the clubs. Axel handles security. It’s a mix that works. Billionaires before forty. Winning at life.
Though I know that only adds to Taylor’s guilt now. To have all that money, all that power, and still not have saved Sadie from the hell that was her ex…
I glance down, suddenly aware of the bobbing narwhal in my hand. I’m using a stuffed mammal as a stress ball – go figure. But Sadie’s ex has me damn near ready to punch something. Preferably him.
‘How is she?’ Taylor asks. ‘Truthfully.’
‘How do you think?’ I deflect, because what the hell do I know? I can’t spend more than a few minutes around her without bolting. Chaos or temptation – both are killing off my sanity. ‘Why don’t you ask her?’
‘I would if she’d pick up the phone.’
‘I’m sure she’s just busy.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Chasing down a kid, for a start. Those things run on never-ending batteries. Energizer should have trademarked toddlers, not bunnies.’
‘That’s my niece you’re talking about.’
‘And? I’m simply stating a fact.’
‘So, she’s okay, she’s getting out with Lottie, doing stuff?’
‘Like?’
‘I don’t know, normal stuff, the kind of stuff you do with a kid.’
I think back over the week, and it’s always me saying goodbye. Leaving on business, going for a run, meeting up with Axel…
Guilt starts to worm its way in. She could have gone out while I was out, though. But somehow, I suspect she hasn’t. She’s always around, either grappling with Lottie, or tapping away on her phone or her laptop.
I guess I could have asked her. Shown an interest.
Hell , I could have taken them out, done something with them, made them feel more welcome.
Instead, I’ve been too focused on running the other way.
Running from my guilt, the attraction, and a seven-year-old memory I can’t seem to bury.
A kiss that was as wrong back then as it would be now.
But every replay of those innocent lips moving over mine and it’s hello jack!
‘Theo?’
‘I don’t know,’ I admit, staring up at the clear blue sky outside and recalling how yesterday had been just as nice.
The perfect day to get out. And I’d told her just the same.
To forget the cleaning and go. But had she?
No. ‘It’s only been a week, she probably just needs time to settle in first, get her bearings again… ’
‘A week stuck inside a penthouse, shit. Lottie must be climbing the walls.’
Now that I could answer a hundred times over. ‘I’d say so.’
‘You can’t keep a kid cooped up like that.’
Guilt morphs into the defensive. ‘I did tell you my place was hardly ideal.’
‘It beats her worrying about bringing trouble to my door.’
‘So, it’s okay for her to bring trouble my way?’ I quip, then instantly regret it.
Where the hell’s my famed cool?
Apparently, it packed up and left the day Sadie moved in.
‘Of course not. But Danny’s too self-absorbed to know you exist. And at least you’re at home. I’m away so much and I don’t want her on her own. Not right now and not while that prick is still out there somewhere. I sleep easier knowing you’re keeping an eye on her.’
Yeah, I’m doing that all right. If the narwhal could squeak, it just did.
‘She needs to get out though, Theo. He kept her caged long enough. She needs to start living her life again…’
‘She can’t be afraid of running into him here. He’s back in Ireland. She’s in London. She’s safe. Free to come and go and do whatever makes her happy.’
It comes out tight as I reel with the truth. She hadn’t been any of those things. Free. Safe. Happy.
‘I hope so, but—’ She breaks off as another woman’s voice comes down the line, muffled, distant. Her PA? ‘Give me one sec, Theo.’
‘Sure.’
I turn away from the view, my need to see happy-smiley, very safe Sadie overriding any sense of self-preservation as I leave my study and seek her out.
I follow the faint sound of toddler to her wing of my apartment, half-expecting trip hazards or plastic landmines, but everything’s oddly… neat. Too neat.
Had she really taken my invasion joke to heart?
Her door is open just a crack, so I tap lightly. No answer. Just Lottie’s voice carrying through in a sing-song ramble only a three-year-old could invent.
She can’t need privacy if the door’s ajar, right?
I step inside, straight into what looks like a toddler boot camp designed by chaos theorists. If the rest of my place looks bare, it’s because every last toy, book, blanket, squeaky thing has upped and landed here. All except the narwhal-slash-stress ball still clutched in my hand.
‘Uncle Feo!’ Lottie’s straight ahead of me in the en suite, perched in front of the toilet on a potty, a book in her lap, and stickers – so many stickers – everywhere. The glossy tiled floor, walls, sink, her hair, her cheeks…
Welcome to the Ministry of Mayhem.
Population: one very small dictator, complete with throne.
Where in the hell is Sadie?
‘Wan’ one?’ Lottie says, lifting out a sticker-clad finger.
‘Remind me again why she couldn’t stay at Axel’s?’ I murmur into the phone as I give Lottie a grin as tight as my grip.
‘Are you really asking me that again?’ Taylor says, coming back on the line.
‘Sure am.’ Because my question is perfectly reasonable. Axel’s the muscle. The protector. The human equivalent of a security system with abs. If anyone should be keeping Sadie and her kid safe from her walking-red-flag of an ex, it’s him. Not me.
‘I thought I’d explained that well enough.’
Oh, she has. Repeatedly. With charts, probably. The thing is, Axel isn’t just our best friend and business partner, he’s also the biggest player known to man.
‘He wouldn’t touch her,’ I say, while telling myself to listen up. ‘She’s your sister.’
Taylor gives an unladylike snort. ‘She’s a woman first.’
Yeah, and don’t I know it .
‘What did you just say?’
Fuck , did I say that out loud?
I drag a hand through my hair. ‘You act like he can’t control himself.’
‘Have you ever known a woman not to fall into bed with him?’
She has a point, but… ‘You haven’t.’
‘Because I know better.’
‘Ri-ight,’ I drawl.
‘ And I know better than to risk a lifelong friendship for what can only be a few minutes of fun.’
Hell, I should be taking notes and reminding myself of the very same, daily if not hourly. Along with the hefty reminder that Taylor trusts me because I’m not Axel.
But what if she knew that Sadie was the one woman capable of making me be more Axel…
‘A few minutes?’ I say, moving forward to take the sticker Lottie’s now frantically waving at me before she tumbles off the potty. ‘I’ll tell him you said that.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’
‘Said what?’
I release my grip on the narwhal as Sadie steps through the dressing-room doors to my right, and the toy lands with a silent thud that mirrors the dive my gut just took.