Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
“WHERE DID YOU GO?” BY JAX JONES, MNEK
IRIS
They guys show me around the space and it’s really nice.
Like, so much nicer than I thought it would be—which yes, makes me sound like a posh twat.
The walls are all coloured with amazing street art that apparently gets refreshed once a year when they redecorate.
The walls outside also have artwork, the ones that are full windows that is.
There are several rooms, all with kitchens so having some kind of snack should be doable as well.
Kids like to eat from my experience, having taken part in many volunteer groups as was expected of us when we were at Wyndhams. I make a list of other things we might need, settling on one of the rooms that would be available every Wednesday for the craft club.
“We’ll need to make some posters maybe, to let everyone know,” I muse out loud, Hunter’s phone in my hand as I note that down.
“I can help with that, sweetheart,” Roman tells me, all of them standing off to one side while I walk around and think. I glance up at him, my lips splitting into a wide grin.
“Thanks, Ro.” His own smile almost makes my steps falter, because it’s so beautiful it’s unreal. “And we’ll need some snacks, kids always need snacks.”
“I can make something for them, something nutritious,” Hunt offers, and I switch my gaze to him.
“That would be perfect.” His chest swells and something inside me warms at the fact they’re helping me with this project.
They really do want to help the people, their people as they call them.
I turn to Rowan, wanting him to feel involved too.
I’ve noticed he often holds back, observing before taking part, and by the way his jaw clenches, I think maybe he feels like he doesn’t have much to offer. “And you can be my assistant.”
His eyes widen, looking terrified, and I have to bite my lip to stop the laugh from escaping.
“I…” he cuts himself off, swallowing. “I’m not very creative and haven’t really been around children much,” he confesses quietly, and I take the few steps that separate us before reaching out and cupping his cheek with my palm.
“I’ll teach you, and I’m sure the kids will love you.
” He watches me intently, his honey-amber eyes never leaving mine as he drinks in my words.
It’s always thrilling to be under his scrutiny.
There’s just something exciting about it rather than it being something that worries me.
“Plus someone has to be in charge of the glitter, and I feel like you’re that kind of person,” I tease, and a rare grin splits his plush lips, stopping my damn heart.
“I could do that,” he says softly, and I can’t help myself. Leaning up on tiptoes, I press my lips against his, loving how soft they feel when the rest of him is so hard and unyielding.
His hands come up and tangle in my hair, tilting my face to the side so that he can sink deeper into me, his tongue demanding entrance.
I give it to him readily, sparks flying across my nerves as he kisses me.
It’s like embracing a live wire or stroking a tiger.
You know that it may end your life at some point, but damn, what a fine ending it would be.
I cry out when he bites down on my lower lip hard enough that copper fills my mouth, a deep groan sounding in his chest, but he’s soothing the hurt moments later, the sharp pain becoming a dull throb as he caresses the wound with his tongue.
Slowly, he ends the kiss, my lip still smarting as he pulls away, a drop of my blood on his lips.
“You taste incredible, Little Lamb,” he rasps, licking the blood off, his eyes practically rolling.
“And shit, having my mark on you…” His thumb comes up to stroke my throbbing lip and I hiss a breath.
“One day soon, I’m gonna carve up this skin so good, you’ll see my touch every time you look in the mirror. ”
Fuck. That shouldn’t be hot. Nope, that should be scary as fuck and I should be running, but instead, my knickers are drenched and I want to lay down on one of the tables right now, letting him do whatever he likes to me.
“Only if I get to mark you too,” I find myself saying, the idea of leaving something permanent on his skin appealing more than it has any right to. I never knew I’d like the idea, but I want the world to know that he belongs to me.
“I will hand you the knife myself,” he vows, his pupils wide and chest heaving as a hardness presses against my lower stomach. Yeah, he likes the idea as much as I do.
“Well, as hot as that sounds, it’ll have to wait,” Hunter states into the quiet, and I tear my gaze from Rowan to look at him with a pout. “We need to train, and you need to work on your cardio, Peaches.”
A deep groan leaves me as Roman barks a laugh. “Told you,” he singsongs, sauntering over to us and pressing up against my back. “But I want in later. I want to leave my mark on you, have yours on me too,” he whispers in my ear, sending a shiver down my whole body.
“Deal,” I breathe out, then I’m being tugged from between the twins, who both growl as Hunter pulls me against him.
“Later,” he states, and I grin.
“Yes, Daddy,” I purr, loving the way his nostrils flare and his pupils blow with just those two words.
“Fucking Christ, now I’m walking into the gym with a boner,” he groans, his arm tight around my waist as he pulls me towards the door.
Sounds of agreement come from behind us as the twins follow, and we walk down the wide corridor to some double doors at the back of the centre.
As soon as Hunt opens them, I’m hit with a blast of throbbing bass that settles in my chest, the clink and grunts telling me that the gym is down the stairs.
We descend—I feel like stairs are now part of my life in a big way—and soon, enter into a vast underground space full of gym equipment and people. There are a mix of ages, with some who are definitely older. I like the fact that it’s clearly a place where all ages feel comfortable.
I spot Dayton, who gives me a shy wave, the guy he was talking to looking curiously over at us.
Like Hunt and the twins, he’s covered in ink, although unlike them, he’s quite a bit older, later forties maybe.
He pauses his conversation, gives Dayton a clap on the back, and then makes his way over to us.
“Boys!” he greets, grabbing Roman and pulling him in for a man hug, all back slaps, then doing the same to Rowan, who surprises me by returning it. He’s been affectionate with me, but no one else, not even Roman, so I didn’t expect him to be okay with hugs from others. “Been a while.”
Letting go of Rowan, he turns to Hunt, who has hold of my hand but gives the guy a one-armed hug anyway.
“You know what it’s like, Dave,” Hunt responds, releasing the older man.
“I know kid,” Dave says, giving Hunter’s shoulder a squeeze before turning to me. “Pleased to meet you, Iris.” He holds his hand out, his knuckles gnarled and scarred.
I startle, my hand tightening around Hunter’s, who squeezes it back reassuringly. “Pleased to meet you, Dave, but how did you know about me? I’ve not left the flat.”
His face splits into a wide grin, a gruff chuckle rumbling from his chest. “Not much stays a secret on the World’s End, love,” he tells me, the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Especially when our fearless leaders are holed up for days with a Chelsea princess in their lair.”
Roman punches him in the arm, but they all laugh as my cheeks flush a little.
“I’m not a princess, though I suppose many kings have sold their daughters throughout history.
” It’s meant to be a joke, but the stony faces around me and the way Hunt pulls me closer tells me that it fell flat. I guess it’s not really all that funny.
“We don’t support the skin trade, love,” Dave assures me gently, his blue eyes a washed-out colour, like he’s seen too much in his time on this earth.
“And we’re all proud of our boys for taking you in, keeping you away from those Russian scumbags.
” His lips curl and my heart twinges, knowing that he’s including Nikolai in that even though he was the one who helped me escape and took two beatings to keep me safe.
“Heard anything about our Soviet friends?” Hunter asks, and I straighten up, even though he refuses to let me go. Dave huffs a sigh.
“Rumor is that they’re the ones behind our guys getting targeted, lots of eagles being seen around the ends,” Dave informs him, and honestly, it’s like he’s speaking in code, but I get the impression that perhaps the Russians haven’t been as quiet as we, I, have thought.
“You’ll let us know if you hear more?” Hunt asks, and Dave nods.
“Of course, son. Now, time to train!” He claps his hands, others in the gym whooping and dispelling some of the tension the last part of the conversation wove around us.
He stalks off around the gym, offering encouragement and words of praise to everyone he passes.
I see the way the younger guys look up to him, the older people also giving him appreciative nods.
“Changing rooms are over there, Peaches.” Hunter points towards the far side of the gym, two doors with signs for male and female changing rooms over them.
“I don’t have any stuff with me,” I tell him, my heart picking up as I glance up at him. “Plus, I may have never actually been inside a proper gym before. The one at Wyndham’s was kinda…girly. It’s not seemly to be a hot, sweaty mess.”
His eyes widen a fraction, then his lids lower, and something tells me that he just thought of something dirty.
“Then I get this first too,” he whispers just loud enough for me to hear and flush scarlet if the heat in my cheeks is anything to go by. Then he drops his arm from around me and hands me the bag he brought with us. “Your stuff is in there.”
I take it, my brows lowered. “My stuff?”