12. Sev
12
SEV
I’m a liar.
I promised not to touch her. I said never again. Then one last time.
But I can’t give her up.
It feels even lonelier than usual when Maisie leaves work. I hate that I couldn’t find words to make it right when she was upset earlier. I hate that we had to pretend we weren’t on a date, and that she denied it. This sneaking around is killing me in ways I didn’t expect.
But I can’t stop needing her in my life.
I get my phone out and follow the little blinking dot as it tracks all the way to her building, then switch to the cameras in time to see her walk through the door of her apartment. Going into the lounge, she hops onto the sofa, and for a second I’m convinced she glances up and straight into the camera as she smiles tiredly.
It feels like she’s smiling at me.
I relax a little as I watch her make dinner, and do some chores. It’s a tepid, faded version of spending a long lunch date with her. But it’s familiar. It’s good enough.
In truth, it’s scraps that I’m convincing myself aren’t making me famished for the sound of her voice and the feel of her skin on mine.
Today at the restaurant was risky, and tomorrow is a pit of despair because I can’t have lunch with her again so soon. I mustn’t take her out for lunch every day, as I’d like to. We’d be caught sooner or later, just as we’ll be discovered kissing in my office or in a storeroom.
On the one hand I cannot stay away, and on the other I’m betraying my friend. The slight frown on Wes’ face when we were in that meeting after I delayed it to eat her pussy returns to me.
If only death weren’t so final, I wouldn’t mind Wes murdering me for being with his daughter.
I take a deep breath and remind myself, again. He’s my friend. I’m so much older than Maisie. This is wrong… But the wrongness is so insubstantial compared to the feelings I have for her.
I need a reminder of why I can’t claim her. Why she isn’t mine, and never can be.
Picking up the phone, I go call Wes, but as I do, on the screen I see Maisie go to her front door, and pause.
She lets in her father, and gives him a dutiful hug and a smile that though anyone in the world think she’s happy, I know better. She’s worried.
Hours of working with her, and just as I suspect she sees through my dark moods and grumpy masks, I can see past her bright facade.
I can’t hear what they’re saying, I can’t lip-read, and fuck, I wish I’d set the cameras up with sound.
They go to the kitchen and Maisie makes a cup of tea for Wes. She has to search in the cupboard for different tea bags for him, her cheeks heating.
I don’t like this.
Wes might be my best friend, and he’s an important ally for Morden, but he’s making my girl nervous.
She goes to hand him the mug of tea, and he says something right at that moment and she jerks in shock. Tea splashes over the edge of the mug, and onto her hand.
Like the last time she was hurt, I’m on my feet in a second.
The primal part of my brain is sounding a shrill fire alarm. It’s all I can do to not race to Maisie’s apartment.
On the screen, Maisie thrusts her hand under running water and clears up the spilt tea as best she can with one hand.
Wes is talking to her, and my frustration with not knowing what’s being said mounts with my craving to look after my wounded girl. How bad is the burn?
And what the fuck did Wes say that has her slumping over the sink, her shoulders up around her ears and her head bowed.
They continue to talk, and I’m caught, a fly on a sticky trap. I have to go to her, but I can’t just turn up for no reason.
Wes is looking increasingly irritated. Finally, he crosses his arms.
Then I notice Maisie’s shoulders. They’re vibrating. Lifting up and down. For a moment, I don’t understand why. Then she turns and there are tears streaming down her face as she says something to Wes.
Watching her fall off the table is nothing, nothing compared to this.
I don’t hesitate. I’m out of the office, punching the elevator call button, and swearing.
If Maisie is crying, I’m going to her. There’s nothing in my head but that single, primal need to get to my girl and comfort her. Protect her. Care for her and dry her tears.
Destroy anything that has upset her, even if he’s my best friend.
Throwing myself into the nearest car when I reach the basement level, I drive through red lights, and I don’t keep the app open and see what she’s doing. There’s no consideration of stopping.
I love her. She needs me.
The route to her apartment block is familiar, but it has been a long time since I stepped out of the car and used my key to the building. Not since I installed the hidden cameras myself.
I know what apartment is hers. There are raised voices coming from inside, muffled but my heart is thudding out of my chest. I hit the door hard enough to be heard, and pull out my phone to call Maisie. For half a second I think of calling Wes, but there’s no need to do either, as within seconds Maisie has wrenched open the door.
“Sev.” And although she looks shocked, she doesn’t sound surprised. I snatch her into my arms as she falls towards me, her face tear-streaked, her eyes pink.
Pushing her into her oh-so-familiar apartment without a word, I kick the door closed behind us, keeping her tight to me. Fuck, she’s so precious.
“Sev?” Wes screws up his face in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
“What did you do to make her fucking cry ?” I shoot back, because that’s the only thing that matters right now.
“It’s family business.” He bristles, confused as a tiger meeting a polar bear.
“What are you doing?” Fury burns through my blood.
Wes sets his jaw stubbornly, in an expression I recognise from our years of friendship. “I don’t ask you to reveal Morden secrets, you shouldn’t expect me to tell you Mitcham’s?—”
“He wants me to marry the kingpin of Waltham,” Maisie says, her voice muffled by being face-first in my shirt and still sobbing.
“No.” That’s not happening.
“It’s already done,” he states. “It’s just a marriage of convenience.”
“No.” Louder this time.
“Look, he’s about the same age as Maisie.” He scowls. “She can’t be the Mitcham princess working for Morden forever. This is a decent match. He’s alright.”
“He’s an arsehole.” And that’s true. He’s better than the little prick Kane Anderson killed, but no one could be good enough for Maisie.
“It’s not like I’m threatening to send her to the Essex virginity auctions,” Wes says frustratedly. “But I do demand that my daughter do something to help Mitcham, and that means marrying for advantage and alliance.”
“If anyone is going to marry Maisie, it’s me.”
“Really?” Maisie looks up at me, her eyes wide with amazement.
“You hate Waltham that much?” Wes spits. “They’re not that bad to make my daughter marry a man twice her age.”
Then he seems to finally notice that Maisie is clinging to me like a baby koala. “What’s going on?” His tone goes icy. “Take your hands off my daughter.”
“No.” That’s not an option. She clutches at me harder, and my arms take up the slack. I can’t let her go. Not now, not ever.
“She’s my daughter, you bastard!” He takes me by the lapels, and I let him. “She’s twenty years younger than you! You were fucking and fighting when she was in nappies!”
“Dad, stop it!” Maisie lets go of me to reach for Wes, but he’s not listening to or looking at her.
“Have you been screwing her?”
“She’s an adult,” I say at the same time as Maisie says, “So what if he has?”
That’s not the denial he wanted, and it’s stupid, because it hasn’t gone that far. But I want it to.
I’m done with sneaking around. I’m finished with lies, and there won’t be any more pretending that this girl isn’t the most important thing in the world to me.
“I love your daughter and I’m going to marry her.”
Wes shakes me, letting out a howl of anger and frustration. I see his punch coming with easily enough time to move, but I don’t. I let him have this, and pain explodes through my jaw.
I deserve it.
“Sev!” Maisie cries in distress.
“I trusted you to look after her!” he yells, pulling out a gun, and cocks the safety.
I go still, my mind calm and blank.
“Dad, no!” Maisie screams.
I knew this was possible. He meant what he said about killing any man who touched his daughter, and drawing my own weapon isn’t an option. I promised I’d stay away from her, and I broke my word.
And I don’t regret it. If I die, I die honestly, and protecting the girl I love.
“What happened, Maisie?” Wes demands, not looking away from me, the gun unwavering. He cares about her, in his own haphazard way. “He took advantage of you. Tell me exactly what he?—”
“I love him,” she screeches in panic.
She loves me? Glancing across to her, it’s like taking off sunglasses. I’m blinded by the light of her. That’s… Insane. Too much.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” I say softly, and at least she knows. I came for her when she was hurting, and I love her too much to care if the consequences are fatal for me.
“He’s old enough to be your father—” Wes chokes.
“But he’s not my father, and he didn’t take advantage. And it’s…” She looks up at me, and my heart does that amateur gymnastics thing that it took up when we first met. “Love. It’s right. And I’m not marrying anyone but Sev.”
I hold out my hand and hope and confidence flare in her eyes as hers interlocks. Squeezing her fingers, I’m struck again by how small she is. How precious.
There’s a tense silence.
Wes’ hand begins to shake. “When did this start?” he grits out, but doesn’t lower his gun.
That’s a question I don’t want to answer.
“How long has this been going on?” he insists.
“I asked him to kiss me a couple of weeks ago,” Maisie says, and it’s the perfect combination of honesty and bare-faced lie of omission.
“A few weeks?!” he roars.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. I can lie, but Wes is still my best friend.
The gun goes off so suddenly, for a second I think he’s shot me. But I don’t fall, so I swing around to check on Maisie. Then Wes has dropped his arms, and I realise there’s a hole in the wall two inches to the side of my head.
I let out a shaky breath. That wasn’t him missing. He’s decided to let me live.
Wes spins abruptly, holstering his gun, then sweeps his hands through his black hair, just like his daughter’s, and lets out a yell of frustration.
None of us move.
“I hate this,” he mutters. “I knew it. I knew something was up between you two.”
Maisie reaches out with her free hand. I give her a warning squeeze, but I think his violence has burnt its hottest.
Probably.
“Dad…”
“Do not ‘Dad’ me,” he snaps. “You two are awful, shitty?—”
“Wes,” I interrupt with a threat in my tone. There’s only so much I’ll take, and the amount is zero for Maisie. I won’t allow him to be rude to her, mortal threats to my life or not.
“Don’t. You’re lucky to be alive.” He plants his hands on his hips and looks over his shoulder, then away again, as though the sight of us together, our hands linked, is more than he can deal with.
“This is happening with or without your approval,” I state clearly. If I have to steal Maisie away and break ties with my best friend, well. So be it.
Today has reorientated my priorities in a way that makes me wonder why this realisation took me so long.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner,” he says, almost to himself. “You sneaky shitheads.”
Maisie and I exchange a tentative look of hope.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” Maisie begins, “But?—”
“I know, I know, give me a minute you arseholes,” Wes grumbles, bowing his head as though at the funeral of good sense and taste, and really mourning their loss.
I feel Maisie’s excitement buzzing and when I brush my thumb over hers and she pushes her little fingertips into my knuckles, it’s a promise.
“You’ll formalise the alliance with Mitcham,” he says, his back still to us.
“Of course, how much were you thinking of?” I’ve built a fortune once, doing it a second time would be a small price for Maisie.
Wes huffs. “I don’t need your money, you prick. You’ll take my side when Westminster wants to short-change everyone south of the river, and you’ll marry .”
“I’m no more fond of being fleeced than you are, and a better ally than Waltham,” I say to Wes, not quite daring to look at Maisie even as I bring our joined hands to my lips and kiss the back of her hand. “I’ll ask your daughter about the second thing. I hope she’ll say yes.”
Maisie blinks, then nods eagerly.
“In return I’ll pay you for that laundering you do for me,” Wes says between gritted teeth.
“Good of you.” I’m grinning, because I’m winning all the way here. I’m stupidly, improbably happy.
“Don’t hurt her.” Wes turns and faces me down.
“I won’t.”
“If you break her heart, I will personally skin you alive, then dip you in acid.” Right now, Wes is not my friend. He’s not a mafia boss. He’s a protective father. “Be good to her. Keep her safe.”
“Dad!” Maisie protests.
“I will treat her like the princess she is, but not because of any threat from you,” I reply with the simple truth.
Wes narrows his eyes.
“I’ll love and spoil her as she deserves because doing anything that harmed Maisie would be far more painful than your torture.”
“Fine.” Wes grimaces, but doesn’t enlarge on that.
“You don’t mind?” Maisie checks.
“I absolutely do mind.” His expression softens as he looks at his daughter. “But I won’t kill him since you seem to like him.”
“Good.” I touch my cheek, which is sore and probably going to bruise, but thankfully not that bad. Wes is my friend, it seems, even when he’s murderous, and didn’t hit me as hard as he could have.
“I love him,” Maisie says again, and my heart does a new move. Olympic-winning gymnast, my stupid heart. Missed its calling beating in my chest all day.
Wes huffs, but he holds out open arms. Maisie goes to him, and I let her. My future wife hugs my best friend, her father, and my future father-in-law.
I wait patiently as Maisie says she’s not a little girl anymore, and Wes grouches that she’s always his little girl. Eventually, Maisie draws back.
“Come on.” I pull her to my side. “Leave your dad to get over the shock he’s going to be a grandfather sooner rather than later.”
Wes growls.
It’s just the truth. “There’s something I want to show you.”