Page 12 of Flare

Kip smiled. “So, maybe not a heavy raincoat. Maybe just a small umbrella?”

I flipped him off.

“Okay, okay.” Kip wandered back to the service desk and studied me for a minute. “But seriously, why don’t you come out to a club with me tonight? We can get our groove on a bit.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Now I know you’re not asking me on a date, Kip, right?”

His eyes bugged comically. “What? Ew, no. That would be way too freaky. I mean, you’re hot and all, but I’m only just getting you trained as a friend. I’d hate to put all that expert tuition to waste.”

I chuckled and gave him a gentle shove. “Good to know. Now, leave me alone. I’m gonna head upstairs and try and get some work done.”

He trailed me to the stairs. “You don’t have to go with me. Take Hunter.”

I thought about it for all of two seconds. Thought about it until that lick of bile curled in my stomach and my throat thickened. Icouldgo. I could find some suitably willing dick and fuck their brains out to take the edge off. No drama, no harm. But my cock only managed a half-hearted maybe at the thought.

“Nope, see above reasons.” I started up the stairs.

“What about an app tap?” He stood at the bottom. “Swipe right. Live a little.”

Live a little? Jesus Christ. Like Grindr wasevergoing to happen in my life. Trust some random guy with my body? Fuck no. “I’m fine, Kip. Go dance your heart out. Wear that newSalazarhot-pink vest sample that arrived yesterday and stick some of our business cards in the pocket. See if you can sell a few.”

His eyes brightened. “Really? Man, I love that thing. Makes my nipples stand to attention. But don’t think I didn’t see what you did there. I can’t be bought that easy.”

Oh yes you can. “Night, Kip.” I hit the landing at the top of the stairs and opened the door to my design studio—a fancy name for half the lounge of the small flat I occupied above the shop.

“So, I guess I’m locking up then?” Kip’s voice chased me into the flat. “What would you do without me?”

I hated to think.“Yes, please.” I shut the door, and Valentino opened an eye from his usual spot on the windowsill, watching the world go by. He gave a languorous stretch of his sleek black body before curling in the opposite direction and drifting back to sleep.

“I’m thrilled to see you too, love of my life.” I filled his bowl and added cat food to the shopping list. Then I got a beer from the fridge and cracked the window for some fresh air. I scratched Valentino’s head while I thought of Kip’s words, Beck’s smile and warm hands, the way the gold in his eyes caught the light and sent dangerous things flipping in my chest, and tried to convince myself that my life was enough and I wasn’t lonely as fuck.

Yeah, good luck with that. Not that admitting the truth changed anything. It never did. And so I headed for my standing desk at the window and did what I always did, immerse myself in my work.

Twenty minutes of uninspired scribbling later and distracted by the mouth-watering spicy smells coming from Ken’s Dumpling House across the road, I threw down my pencil, pulled out my phone, and fired off a text to Hunter.I’m in trouble.

CHAPTERTHREE

Beck

Where the hell is she?

The brown clock on the cowpat green wall glared back as if telling me to get a fucking life and quit looking already. If only I could. I winced and shifted on the freezing white metal chair bolted to the tired linoleum floor, pretty sure my balls had shot north to warmer pastures fifteen minutes ago.

I was pretty sure some fucker had mandated that all prison visitation rooms were fitted with the most uncomfortable seats in the history of humanity. I mean, hell, you wouldn’t want the family and friends of inmates to actually be comfortable, would you? That most of us affected by a loved one’s incarceration had our lives thrown into a total shitshow and were still trying to turn up every week clearly didn’t mean a goddamn thing.

“Why is she late?” Jack sat frozen in his chair, his eyes glued to the prisoner’s door. Saturday at two was our standard visiting schedule, and Serena was usually there within a minute or two of our arrival. Jack’s time with his mother was the most animated I ever saw him—a fact I wasn’t proud of and something I had no idea how to fix. Six months into Serena’s five-year sentence and Jack was going to finish school without his mum around. I flitted between feeling miserable for my idiot sister and what she was missing, and blazingly angry at her selfishness.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what Jack felt.

“Wait here.” I was halfway across the room to check with the guard when the internal door swung open and my sister walked in. She looked... terrible. Tired and small, wearing a pair of brown prison sweats and an orange jumper that did nothing for her pale complexion and anxious expression. But she managed to summon a decent enough smile for Jack, who pushed to his feet and accepted a hug in that awkward way teenage boys had when there was nowhere to run.

Serena looked my way with an apologetic smile, and I immediately registered the web of tight lines around her eyes and the slight bruise on her left cheek.Fuck.My heart lurched, but there was no asking how she came by it, not with Jack in hearing distance. We did our best to keep the face-to-face visits on a happy note, leaving any discipline issues or court stuff for the phone calls in between. Every now and then she was allowed to book a video call, which was even better and helped keep Jack going. Thank God for technology.

One weekly visit, one call, that was the routine. We’d tried for more frequent contact at the start but quickly found it made things harder, made trying to create a normal life for Jack outside the prison almost impossible. It was Jack who suggested we do it this way, and so far, it was working. I wasn’t sure Serena thought the same way, but this wasn’t about her. We all needed Jack to settle, and I’d shift fucking mountains to make sure that happened.

But today wasn’t going to be one of those happy visit times. I’d given Serena a head’s up about the shoplifting, so she was prepared. Nothing like having to find a way to discipline your son when you were locked up in prison yourself.

Jesus fucking Christ.When had this become our lives?

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