Chapter 36
KATIE
Robbie is reclining on the sofa with more pillows than I can count. His torso is covered in so much gauze and plasters of every size that he looks like a patchwork quilt.
He is, I’ve noticed, remarkably easy to care for. Something tells me that his brother would not be as good of a patient.
Scott comes and goes with his shifts at work; he is sure to pack on the PDA every chance he gets. I can’t blame him. If Aiden had been attacked like Robbie was, I’d never let him out of my sight.
“How are they even related?” Becky jokes, noticing the stark contrast in Robbie’s golden retriever personality to Aiden’s German Shepherd.
“Hey, my man can be cute and squishy too,” I protest. Well, maybe not squishy; he has nothing to squish, but I think he’s adorable.
“Your man probably feasts on the souls of the damned,” Maria cackles, pouring herself a generous glass of red wine. I’ve no idea how she drinks that stuff. I can’t stand it.
“It’s good roughage, shut up,” Strutting out of the kitchen to check on Robbie again, I’m pleasantly surprised to see him decent.
I may or may not have walked in on Scott giving him a sneaky handy earlier. I’m too mortified to ever mention it again, so I’m pretending nothing happened.
“How’s the pain?” I ask, lifting his empty bowl and glass from the floor.
“I’m delightfully sedated, it’s glorious,” he offers me a boyish grin. “Thank you, for all of this. You don’t have to—”
“Shut up, we’re family after all… well,” I glance at the ring on my finger. “Soon-to-be…” I turn to the TV hearing “once upon a December” playing behind me. “Anastasia! I love this!”
Apparently, Scott does too since he starts singing along.
My phone buzzes in my jeans pocket and I quickly fish it out.
Aiden: Raven is coming for dinner x
Katie: No problem. X
The dots dance about the screen, disappear then reappear for a few minutes before his message comes through.
Aiden: Are the cackling hens still there?
Katie: Be nice!
Aiden: I’m always nice!
Katie: If by nice you mean an insufferable prick…
Aiden: You’re going over my knee for that!
Katie: You’ve got to try harder with my friends!
He sends me back an angry face emoji in response.
Tough shit. If I can accept the fact that he abducts, tortures and murders people, then he can put on his big boy pants and have dinner with my friends.
I make my way back into the kitchen and toss on an extra garlic bread to go with the lasagna.
“How fat do you think we are?” Maria cackles, already at the bottom of her wine glass. She’ll probably have to stay tonight. I might stick her in the bed with me just to piss Aiden off.
“Aiden’s bringing a friend,” I throw over my shoulder, closing the oven door and turning to the baffled expressions in the room.
“You mean he has some?” Becky chortles.
“Craig?” Ciara presses.
“No. Raven,” they all stare at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
Maria is the first to speak. “Please tell me that’s not his real name.”
“I don’t think so,” I shrug, hearing a key turn in the door, I step into the hallway and I’m immediately greeted by a freshly showered Aiden and the striking scent of lemons that seems to come from his every orifice. He leans in and I pull back, “Wow, what the hell did you do?”
Aiden’s hands clamp down on either side of my face, his tongue invading my mouth, because how dare I not allow him to kiss me despite knowing he has clearly done some sketchy shit.
When he pulls back, I notice his gaze flicking over my shoulder. Turning, I notice Maria, Becky and Ciara all peering out of the kitchen, all looking at Raven.
“You did tell them that he is not on the menu tonight?”
I smirk against his lips. “They’re just curious.”
“Thirsty bitches,” Aiden scoffs, linking our fingers together and walking me into the kitchen.
That’s it now. He’s home. I won’t be let out of his sight until he must leave again. “Make yourself at home,” Aiden tosses over his shoulder. “Robbie should be inside if you want to go and sit with him.”
Raven nods, seemingly grateful for the excuse to scurry away from the ogling women.
I mean he’s cute yeah, but he’s not THAT cute.
“Stop looking at his arse, Becky,” Aiden says, stepping around the kitchen island and pulling out a can of coke from the fridge. He places it on the counter, grabs me by the waist and lifts me onto the island, forcing my legs to open to accommodate him. “How’s my girl?”
“Please refrain from having sex on the kitchen counters,” Ciara cringes, looking anywhere that we aren’t.
“Too late,” Aiden offers me a wolfish grin, his teeth graze my neck lightly causing me to shudder. “Something smells good, bug.”
I drag my teeth over my lower lip and look up at him through lowered lashes, “hungry?”
He presses his hips against mine. “Famished.”
“No! No! I’m not drunk enough to witness this,” Maria grabs her now refilled glass of wine and flees into the sitting room.
“Behave,” I warn him.
“What did I do?” He asks feigning innocence. “I can still taste your sweet pu—”
“Bah!” Ciara clamps her hands over her ears, following Maria out of the room.
“Aiden!”
“Forget dinner, bug. I’ll happily eat you instead.”
Becky groans, “I’m sitting right here!”
Aiden turns with a frown, “please leave.”
“Aiden James Qui—put me down! Aiden!” His open palm connects with my arse, he’s making a beeline for the stairs and not a one of these arseholes is moving to help me.
“Aid—oof!” That one had some bite to it.
“AJ Quinn!” I hear the slap before my right arse cheek cries bloody murder.
“Aiden, put me down now or,” He tosses me onto the mattress.
I barely have time to register what happened when his body cages mine.
“What are you doing?” I hiss.
“Being an insufferable prick,” he grins cruelly. I’m sure my stomach just dropped to my rectum.
“That wasn’t me that was…. Patricia.” I don’t know why I’m smiling right now; he’s going to make it so I can’t sit down for a month. Right, arse cheeks are to be kept firmly against the mattress at all times. “I have a dinner on!”
“There are six people downstairs. I’m sure one of them can work an oven,” he yanks off his hoodie with one hand, messing up his hair in a way that has that just fucked look.
“You love your bug,” I try to argue.
He drops lower, his breath brushing my neck. “My bug is being a brat.” I can feel his lips curl into a smirk against my skin.
Aiden spins me onto my stomach.
“What are you doing?”
“I told you I’d put you over my knee,” he growls, yanking me over his lap.
Panicking, I squirm, kick, and claw to be free, catching him in the jaw with my heel. “No!” I hit the floor face first, the impact knocking the wind out of me.
Aiden’s grip tightens on my hips. “You’re not getting away that easily.”
“No!” I squeal, kicking his chest to be free. I manage to claw my way to the landing before he grabs me by the ankles. “Let go!”
He pulls, and I grip the spindles of the railing, trying to hold on for dear life.
“Aiden!”
He chuckles darkly. “You’re only going to make this worse, bug.”
“Get off me!” I kick, turning mid-air to wiggle free, and only succeed in having my trousers fall down to my knees. “Aiden!” I laugh, scream, cry out… I’m going to murder him. I try to kick him, he dodges, catches my foot and drags me over carpet, pulling my pants further down my legs.
“Bug,” he taunts, his grip tightening on my ankle.
“Arsehole!” I struggle against his hold, feeling the carpet burn against my skin as he drags me back into the bedroom. “Babe!” I plead, watching my trousers get tossed across the room, leaving me in my Miss Piggy socks and granny panties.
He takes a seat on the bed, beaming at my misery. Although I deliver a death glare at him, he merely laughs and proceeds to drag me across his lap and shove my underwear to the side. His hand connects with my bare skin, leaving a stinging sensation in its wake. “Ouch!”
I squirm, trying to wriggle free, but his grip tightens. His hand lands on my backside with a resounding smack, causing me to yelp in surprise. “You’re an insufferable prick!”
The next smack is even harder, making me bite down hard. “Bastard!”
Motherfucker! My cheeks are on fire!
His hand slams down on my arse again, the pain shooting through me like lightning.
That’s it.
I turn enough to angle my head back, and sink my teeth into his forearm, drawing blood. The shock on his face is satisfying as I finally break free from his grasp. “Don’t mess with the piggy!” I point at my socks, then kick him in the shin for good measure.
I can hear him cursing behind me as I dive for my trousers and make a run for the door.
Pulling on my pants, I feel a sense of victory and adrenaline coursing through me as I round the top of the stairs.
“Dickhead!” I shout over my shoulder as I sprint down the stairs, hearing the howling laughter coming from the sitting room.
“Thanks for the help!” I bark at my friends, who are doubled over, clutching their stomachs. “I’m sneezing in your lasagne!”
The buzzer for the oven goes off, signalling that dinner is ready. Aiden appears in the doorway a moment later, blood oozing from the bite mark on his forearm.
“You’re fucking feral, bug,” he chuckles, grabbing a tea towel to mop up the blood.
“I’m going to slice your scrotum tonight,” I threaten, holding the oven mitts in my hands.
Aiden just laughs, pulls down eight plates from the press, and sets them on the kitchen island. “Promise?” He teases.
I set the lasagne down to cool and toss off the oven mitts. Snatching a knife from the block, I point it at him, and to my utter dismay, he walks into it, creating a thin cut on his cheek.
“Do it,” he challenges, wiping the blood away with his finger and pressing it against my mouth. A trickle of warmth settles on my lips, he watches me with predatory intensity. “Open.”
I hesitate for a moment before parting my lips, allowing his blood to lightly coat my tongue. “Good girl,” he murmurs, then, without warning, disarms me, pinning me against the kitchen island with the very same blade held to my throat. “Don’t move.”
I can feel the cold steel against my skin, his breath hot on my neck as he leans in closer, his lips slanting over mine in a possessive kiss. His tongue traces the line of my lips, tasting the metallic tang of his blood, then he bites down hard.
I gasp, feeling a mixture of fear and arousal course through me as he continues to press his body and the knife against me. Blood oozes from the cut on my lip, and Aiden eagerly licks it away, his eyes dark with hunger.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. He slowly lowers the knife to the counter, his gaze never leaving mine as he skims his fingers down my arm, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
“You never want to aim for the chest, bug,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “The stomach is a better target and easier to hit. No pesky bones to get in the way.”
The doorbell rings, interrupting our twisted moment.
“Expecting company?”
His furrowed brow tells me that he’s not pleased with the interruption. “Wait here.”
Aiden releases my arm and heads for the door, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. I busy myself with dishing up the lasagne and garlic bread. I’m really trying not to eavesdrop, but I blame autism for my impeccable hearing.
“What do you mean, gone?” Aiden sounds agitated.
“We found his car at the airport this morning; it looks like he’s taken off somewhere.”
It takes me a few moments to figure out that it’s detective Moore speaking.
“Where?”
“Hard to say. We’re waiting on security footage to see if we can track his movements.”
“What about his boys?”
“Most are in the wind or keeping their heads down. After everything…” Moore pauses, his voice heavy with unspoken implications. “They won’t do anything without Walsh. Just try and keep your head down, and I’ll keep you updated as soon as we have more information.”
I finish setting the table when Aiden reemerges, leaning against the door frame with a smirk.
“What was that about?” I ask, trying to act like I didn’t just hear his conversation.
“Walsh has gone and done a runner,” he says casually, shrugging his shoulders. Stepping away from the door, his eyes flit to the table. “This looks good, bug.”
“You don’t sound worried.”
Aiden shrugs again, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips. “I’m not.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he grabs me by the hips and pulls me against him. “With Walsh off on his holibops, it means we can move the wedding up with no fear of him causing trouble.”
I never thought of it like that.
He leans down to kiss me, his lips brushing against mine softly. “How does Thursday sound?”
“As in six days from now? I don’t even have a dress!” I pull away slightly, feeling a rush of panic.
Aiden’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “You’ll be surprised at how quickly we can get everything sorted out. Trust me, it will be perfect.”