KIERAN
“You’ve been here two weeks,” said Hassan. “You should come home. Let me look after you.”
“You’ve got work, and Omar. I’m fine here.”
“Derek hasn’t been into the club since I’ve been staying here.”
“What?”
“Well, he’s been in, but he’s not stayed late. He’s always here when I go to sleep, and when I wake up.”
Kieran kept it to himself that he’d been sleeping in Derek’s bed for two weeks.
He felt safe at night in Derek’s arms. Not something he’d say to Hassan, though.
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his best friend.
It had been bad enough when he’d gotten home and Kieran told him what happened.
Hassan had felt bad for being away when Kieran needed him and then told him off for not calling him straight away.
On the plus side, he wasn’t being an arsehole about Derek anymore.
Kieran had needed to snap at Derek after a couple of days, for tiptoeing around him after he’d disclosed his HIV status.
He had blamed Derek and his mum for a long time, but he was the one who’d taken the risk with his health.
It was on him, and blaming other people changed nothing, it just made you bitter.
He wasn’t sure how he’d have gotten through the past two weeks without Derek.
All his tests had come back from the clinic as negative, although Hassan had injected him in the arse with an antibiotic as a precaution. It had hurt like a bitch.
“Are you going to stay here permanently?” asked Hassan, looking concerned.
“No. I need to just focus on one thing at a time, and the first is to get a job.”
“Have you heard from Grant?”
“He’s called a few times and sent texts, but I’ve ignored them. He’ll get the message eventually. I’ve had a few texts from people too. Carl said I’d quit, but I didn’t reply to them.”
“Do you think Grant will leave it at that?”
“What’s he gonna do? He can’t force me to work for him.”
“What if he comes round here when Derek is out?”
“He could do that at home when you’re at work. You don’t need to baby me, Hassan.”
Hassan looked hurt, and Kieran hated seeing that look on his face, so he pulled him into a hug.
“I’m sorry, but I’m okay here. It’s not forever, but it works for now. If I go home, it means I have to deal with shit. This is like being on holiday, and Derek’s a better cook than you.”
“Fuck off,” said Hassan, laughing while squeezing Kieran tighter, before breaking apart.
He ruffled Kieran’s hair affectionately and smiled. Derek might have been onto something when he said Hassan was a daddy. He had to suppress a laugh thinking about it.
“How’s Omar?” he asked, trying not to think about the idea of some guy calling Hassan by that honorific.
“He’s infuriating. He doesn’t know what’s best for him.”
Kieran snorted. “What’s he done?”
“He wants to keep working at Knights Corner.”
“What’s wrong with that? Better than working at The Back Room, isn’t it?”
“Don’t remind me that he worked in that place. No offence to Daddy Derek.”
Kieran cracked up laughing and doubled over; his ribs hurt that much.
“Not that funny,” said Hassan, smiling. “Omar’s got a first-class degree from Cambridge and a master’s from LSE. He should be in a grad programme, not working in a bar.”
“Isn’t that his choice? Just like it was his choice to wait until he had his degrees and then come out to your parents, knowing what would probably happen.”
Hassan narrowed his eyes. “I’m just looking out for him.”
“No, you’re being Dr Hassan Malik, the overbearing control freak.”
“I just don’t want him to miss out on opportunities.”
“And that’s his choice. Besides, it’s September. All the graduate programmes will be filled. They’ll be recruiting for next year now.”
“I have some ideas about that.”
Kieran snorted. “Of course you do. Come with me into the kitchen. I need a brew, and Derek baked some cookies. And if you say daddy again, you won’t get any. They’re even better than Liam’s, but don’t tell him I said that.”
Hassan laughed as he followed Kieran into the kitchen. He flicked the kettle on and grabbed the milk out of the fridge before getting the mugs ready.
“Just spend time with Omar. You’ve missed out on ten years together. You can be an overprotective big brother later. He might be less resistant when he knows you better.”
“When did you become so wise?”
“You know me. The master at solving everyone else’s problems. Just shit at my own.”
“No, Kieran. Don’t blame yourself for this. That guy’s a predator. God knows how many other guys he’s done it to, and he’s with the mob, so he can do what he wants. That’s what makes me sick. Even if you wanted to go to the police, Grant would probably just pay them off.”
“Hassan, stop!” he shouted. “Let’s not do this again. I’m not going to the police. They don’t give a fuck about us anyway. They’ll take one look at me covered in tattoos and him in his sharp suit, and we know who they’ll believe.”
“I’m sorry. I just hate the idea of him getting away with it.”
“Well, I keep having to tell Derek not to go after him, so I don’t want to worry about you as well.”
“Derek wants to go after him?”
“I know. I’ve told him it’s stupid.”
“I’m warming to Derek. Maybe he’s not the arsehole I thought he was.”
Kieran couldn’t help but smile. One thing Derek Stephenson wasn’t was an arsehole.
He’d made a mistake when Kieran was a teenager, but it was his mum who had kicked him out, not Derek.
If anyone were to blame, it was her. He’d forgiven Derek before what had happened with Carl.
It was why he’d gone to him, as he’d felt safe.
With how he’d been the last two weeks, Derek was someone Kieran wanted in his life permanently.
He just wasn’t sure in what capacity. His emotions were still all over the place.
Kieran was napping on the sofa when there was a loud bang on the door, followed by the bell ringing.
It could be a delivery. He’d been ordering a lot of stuff lately.
He wasn’t sure why, when he hardly had money to burn, but it was comforting.
Derek had set up the doorbell app on Kieran’s phone.
He checked and almost dropped his phone.
Grant Kincaid was at the door. What the fuck was he going to do?
He was on his own. Hassan had left about an hour ago, and Derek was dealing with some deliveries at the club.
How did he know Kieran was here? If he stayed quiet, he’d probably leave, but then he was bound to come back.
If he did that when Derek was here, fuck knows what could happen between those two.
He knew Derek blamed Grant in part for what had happened.
He heard the front door open. What the fuck? Panicking, he headed up the stairs.
“Kieran, get the fuck down here. We need to talk.”
That was a voice you couldn’t ignore. It wasn’t the friendly guy who took Kieran for breakfast that morning, or the flirty one who’d offered him the night of his life; this was the mob boss. Kieran walked back down the stairs. His entire body was shaking.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Kieran. I just want to know what’s going on. Why did you quit?”
“He didn’t,” said a familiar voice.
Grant spun around to face Derek.
“You know it’s a crime to break into people’s houses, and you’ve been caught on camera.”
“Have I?” asked Grant.
Derek took out his phone and tapped it a few times. “What the fuck? How have you done that?”
“Don’t insult me by asking stupid questions. Now, shall we sit down and have a civilised conversation?”
“No,” said Derek. “You can get the fuck out of my house. You’ve done enough damage. I won’t hesitate to call the police.”
Grant chuckled. “I’d like to see you try. And what have I done to Kieran, other than given him an opportunity he threw back in my face?”
“You left him with a fucking rapist!” Derek shouted.
Grant’s eyes widened. Derek was breathing heavily, his fists balled. Kieran was still shaking all over. Grant looked at him, and Kieran couldn’t help but recoil from him. The man he’d na?vely thought was “alright” now terrified him.
“Do you want to tell me what happened, Kieran?” His voice was softer.
Kieran shook his head and nodded at Derek. His legs felt wobbly, so he sat on the bottom stair. He knew Grant wouldn’t leave until they told him, but Kieran couldn’t do it again. Telling Derek and then Hassan had been enough for him. He was fine with Derek doing all the talking.
“Carl and Kieran had met before. Just a couple of hookups. The second time he got heavy-handed. Remember when you asked if I was the one who’d caused the bruises on Kieran’s arms?”
Grant nodded.
“That was him. He then tried to drag Kieran into the back of my club, even though he was saying his safe word.”
Grant looked at Kieran. He looked angry, but he knew it wasn’t directed at him.
“He then kept hassling Kieran online, and he had to block him on everything. He uses Domtop69 as his profile, but the guy is no dom, he’s a fucking predator.”
“Kieran, why didn’t you tell me when we had breakfast?”
Kieran flinched, not sure what to say. Derek moved closer to Grant, his fists still balled. Did he have a death wish or something?
“He’s one of your men, Grant, and you brought him into the shop. What was he supposed to think?”
“Back the fuck up, Derek, and tell me the rest.”
The tone of his voice left no room for debate.
Kieran could see Derek was shaking with rage.
Grant looked composed, but his eyes showed he was furious about what he was hearing.
What was making him angry? Kieran didn’t know if it was what Carl had done, or Derek making accusations about one of his men.
“He waited until everyone had left and came back to the shop. Offered to clear the air with Kieran and gave him a drink which he’d spiked. I think you can work out the rest. He turned all the lights off and just left Kieran on the floor.”
Grant looked at Kieran again. He was fuzzy because his eyes were watering. He heard Grant take a deep breath.
“Kieran, I know my apology will mean fuck all to you, but I can promise you I’ll deal with this.”
Grant went to speak, then turned to leave. Kieran hadn’t seen the man lost for words before.
“Do you know Henry Liddington?” asked Derek.
Grant’s nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed. Who the fuck was Henry Liddington? Clearly, someone Grant wasn’t a fan of.
“What the fuck has he got to do with anything?” asked Grant.
“He owes me a favour,” said Derek. “You’ve got forty-eight hours, or he’ll deal with Carl for me.”
“He needs to keep his fucking nose out of my business.”
“And he will, if you deal with Carl in the next forty-eight hours.”
Grant glared at Derek one last time before looking at Kieran. His eyes softened, and he gave Kieran a brief smile before walking out. The door closed behind him, and Kieran released the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
Before he could say anything, he was being pulled into Derek’s arms and carried into the living room. He didn’t need to cry, but he wouldn’t turn down the opportunity of being carried by this man.
“Who’s Henry Liddington?” asked Kieran.
Derek sat down on the sofa, keeping Kieran on his lap.
“A man who has more money than God, and makes Grant Kincaid look like a playground bully.”
“Is he a competitor or something?”
“No. Henry’s from old money, and he basically owns the city. He also has no conscience, and he owes me a favour.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I always want you to feel safe.”
Kieran felt so overwhelmed with emotion. Before he could overthink it, he leaned forward and kissed Derek.