Keep Me Safe Page 7

  Her smile faded. “Really? Who with? Please don’t say me,” she added quickly. “You know I’m not into that commitment hooey.”

  “Relax, Lex. It’s not you.”

  “Thank God for that. Although, I’m not sure if I should feel offended, or not. I thought I was your best girl?”

  She was. For the past year, she’d been his go-to-sure-thing, and she’d always looked after his needs, but his needs had changed now. “You’re one in a million.”

  “Tactful. So. Who’s the bint who’s bitch-slapped me into second place?”

  “Molly.”

  “Aw, baby, I told you not to go there.”

  “I know you did, but she’s got under my skin. There’s something about her. Can you drive me to college?”

  Lexi looked at him inquiringly, and started the engine. “I guess, but it’s almost over, and aren’t you supposed to be ill?” she said, as they set off.

  “I’m not going to class.”

  “Then why…?” Realisation dawned. “Oh.” She turned and stared, open-mouthed. “You’re going to see her, aren’t you?”

  “If I can find her. Eyes forward, Lex.”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, right.” Her focus returned to the road, and Kendrick watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was clearly chewing something over. “Is it because her tits are bigger than mine?” she asked suddenly.

  “You’ve got great tits.”

  “Yeah, but hers are bigger. That’s got to be it, because she sure as hell can’t be a better fuck than me.”

  “It’s not all about sex.”

  “When is it not, with you?”

  “I have to say, you’re sounding a little insecure there, Lex.”

  “I’m just trying to get my head around it, that’s all. This is so unlike you.”

  “I know,” he said, flicking his cigarette stub out the window. “I haven’t even got close to banging her, but I can’t get her out of my head.”

  “I’d offer to beat her out for you, if someone hadn’t already tried that.”

  “Hilarious.”

  A silence fell until they drew up outside college. “What are you going to say?” Lexi asked, pulling on the handbrake.

  “No idea. I’m kinda winging it,” Kendrick answered, getting out. “Catch you later.”

  Slamming the door, Kendrick’s eyes roamed the outside of the building—a modern structure of glass and blue steel, and a total contrast to the prefabricated workshop where he learnt his trade. It wouldn’t smell of engine grease and diesel oil inside those walls. Never having had cause to visit this part of campus before, he had no clue where to start looking.

  The door opened and a girl walked through. “Hey, do you know Molly?” he asked her. She offered him a brief glance and shook her head before continuing down the path. No matter. There were plenty more where she came from.

  He entered the building as more bodies exited the classrooms. A cluster of girls, hugging folders, looked up and giggled. “Hi, girls. Have you seen Molly?”

  “Who?” one of them asked, frowning.

  “Molly. I’m looking for Molly.”

  She stuck out her bottom lip. “Don’t know any Molly, sorry.”

  Quickly turning to a bespectacled boy, he tried again. He could do this all day. “Hey, mate, do you know Molly?”

  “Try room six,” he said.

  Kendrick smiled as he took another step towards the boy. This had been easier than he thought. “Where’s that?”

  “Take a right, at the end.” The boy pointed down the corridor.

  He slapped the boy’s shoulder. “Cheers, mate.”

  Three doors along the next corridor, he found the number six hanging above a porthole window and craned his neck to look inside. Not your typical classroom. In place of desks and chairs, musical instruments scattered the space, and in the corner there was what looked like a recording booth. A couple of students were still packing their things away, but none of them were Molly. Had he got the right room?

  The door opened, and one of the remaining students came out. Kendrick stepped to the side to let the pretty blond girl pass. “I’m looking for Molly,” he said.

  She looked back and gave him the once-over. “Don’t I know you?”

  “Don’t think so.”

  Hitching her bag further onto her shoulder, she said, “Yeah. Yeah, I do know you. You’re mates with that guy, um, Liam. Yeah, that’s his name. I’ve seen him drive. He’s good. Do you drive?”

  Kendrick had no intention of making small talk with one of Liam’s groupies, however pretty she might be. He was interested in one girl… and one girl only. “No. Just part of the crew. So. Molly?”

  “Are you her boyfriend?”

  “Friend.”

  “Oh.” She paused to lick her lips. A sign which normally would have resulted in him asking for her number, but not today. Casual hookups were a thing of the past. “Well, she left early,” the girl said.

  “Where did she go?”

  “How would I know? We’re not friends. We just have class together.” She frowned and walked away.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kendrick

  Kendrick headed for the bus stop. Molly had to be somewhere, and from what he knew of her, there weren’t too many choices.

  After failing to find her at work, he followed the same route he’d taken the previous evening, and before long, he was sneaking a look through a familiar window.

  Inside, Molly’s slob of a father reclined lazily on the sofa with his feet resting on the coffee table. A clattering of crockery was followed by Molly appearing with a plate of food. She handed it to her father, who took it without acknowledgement, before she vanished through a door at the rear of the room.

  Fucking ungrateful bastard, Kendrick thought, as he crept round to the back of the house.

  On the other side of the kitchen door, a window shone yellow light over the dishevelled yard. Overgrown bushes surrounded broken slabs of concrete, decorated only by dandelions. The place was a dump Kendrick felt sure Johnny would have loved to have got his hands on, but Kendrick’s mind was focused on fixing something very different.

  When he reached the window, he was met by a vision of Molly dancing in her underwear. His heart missed a beat. Christ, she was beautiful.

  Knowing he shouldn’t be watching her, but mesmerised by the gentle sway of her hips as she hung her jeans in her wardrobe, he found it impossible to look away.

  She bent to pull a grey bundle from under her pillow, affording him a perfect view of her pert, little ass, but when she shook out the bundle and hooked the long T-shirt over her head, it deprived his eyes of further gratification. Flicking back her hair, she sat on her bed, crossed her legs, and began tapping on her phone.

  Kendrick tapped on the window.

  Her eyes widened as she looked up, and it took a second for her to respond and run to the glass. Her head shook as she mouthed words, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying, so he motioned for her to open the window. The head shaking increased, so he motioned again, only for her to wave him away. He stood fast. She could wave all she liked; he wasn’t going anywhere. One day, she’d learn what a stubborn bastard he could be. Finally, her shoulders fell. She lifted the sash and angled her head to talk through the opening. “What are you doing here?” she asked in an angry whisper.

  Kendrick leaned forwards and braced himself on the sill to level his head with hers. “About the other night, at the store.”

  “What about it?”

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get the chance to talk.”

  She pressed her lips together briefly and lowered her eyes. “There’s nothing to say.”

  “I think there is.”

  “Like what?”

  “We kissed.”

  Straightening up, she turned her back. “I remember.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  “I can’t believe it meant nothing to you.” Why wouldn’t she look
at him? Without seeing her eyes, he found it hard to gauge her true feelings. If she didn’t turn around again, he was going through the window to face her, whether she liked it or not.

  “It was for the video. You didn’t have to agree.”

  “Neither did you.”

  Her head tilted up towards her bedroom door and back down again. “Is that all you wanted to say, because I really can’t talk now?” She turned and reached to tug the window down, but Kendrick’s hand shot out to hold it open. She wasn’t getting rid of him that easily.

  “No. I’m not done. I need to know if you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, dropping her hands to her waist and narrowing her eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You ran away.”

  “I had to get home.”

  He searched her eyes, but found only frustration and fear. “To see your Dad?”

  She glanced nervously behind her. “Yes. And if he finds out you’re here, he’ll kill me. You have to go,” she said, trying to shoo him away from the opening.

  “Doesn’t he like you having friends?” he said, watching her undulating fingers.

  “Just go, will you?”

  “Not unless you come with me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then I’ll come in.” His Doc Marten boot landed on the sill, dislodging a large flake of paint.

  As he’d half expected, Molly pushed it off. “No. No, don’t. Please,” she said.

  “Then come out with me. I just want to talk. I promise.”

  Clearly figuring out he wasn’t going anywhere, she said, “Fine. If you insist. But I’m not having sex with you.”

  “Good. I don’t want sex with you, either.”

  “You don’t?”

  More than anything. “Never entered my head.”

  “Hmm.” She eyed him with suspicion. “I need to get changed. Wait for me around the front.”

  “Yeah, like I’m falling for that one.”

  “I’ll be out in five.”

  “Five minutes, and then I’m knocking on the door.”

  “Okay. I get it. Now go.”

  The sun sank slowly behind a row of nearby rooftops, as Kendrick lit a cigarette and leaned against a lamppost, waiting for Molly to show. Had it been five minutes, yet? It felt like ten, or maybe twenty. Where was she? Finishing his cigarette, and flicking the stub into the gutter, he was about to make good on his promise to bang on the door, when he saw her hurrying down the path, casting sideways glances behind her.

  “I thought you were bailing on me,” he said.

  “I said I’d come, didn’t I?” she said, walking straight past him.

  Kendrick jogged up to draw level with her. “So. Where do you wanna go?”

  “This was your idea. Don’t tell me you didn’t have anywhere in mind?”

  “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

  “Then you’d better start thinking, because I’m not walking the streets all night.”

  Geez, she was as bristly as a badger’s backside. He’d never had to work so hard to get a girl in his life. “Have you eaten?”

  “Not since lunch.”

  Why the fuck not? Her father certainly hadn’t gone without his evening meal. “Not hungry?”

  “Why presume I’m not hungry? It is teatime.”

  “Yeah. I know. I just thought… Well, that you might have had something when you got home from college. Never mind. Food it is, then,” he said, stopping outside the burger joint on the corner and holding open the door.

  Molly’s eyes scanned the interior. “I didn’t bring any money.”

  Grabbing her hand, he pulled her through the entrance. “My treat.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t,” she said, resisting.

  “Yes, you could. I insist. Think of it as an apology.”

  “Why? What have you done?”

  “I’m sorry I messed up your date, on Tuesday,” he said, glancing up at the menu board and placing the order.

  “That was no date,” she said. “But since you brought it up, why did you come to the store?”

  “I needed to talk to you about our kiss.”

  “We’ve already discussed that.”

  “We have now, yes, but you asked why I came to the store.”

  “Oh.” She leaned against the counter as they waited for their food. “Can we consider the subject closed, then?”

  “Sure. Because you’re right. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I mean, you clearly don’t like me. I thought I could read girls pretty well, but my radar must have been off with you.”

  “When have I ever said I didn’t like you?”

  “You don’t have to. I get the message.”

  “Then your radar must be switched off altogether.”

  “Really?” The corner of his lip curled into a smile, but not to appear cocksure, he forced it back down and angled his head. He was good at this reverse psychology shit. Who knew? “So you do like me?”

  “I don’t dislike you.”

  “Ah. I see.” He picked up their tray of food and chose a table. “Wanna rethink that sex thing, then?”

  “No. No, I’m pretty much decided on that one.”

  “How about letting me take you out again, tomorrow, on a proper date?”

  “I’m busy.”

  “Too busy to have some fun?”

  “Didn’t I make it clear? Tonight’s a one-off.”

  “Does it have to be?” he asked, watching her take her time smoothing the wrapper into a perfect square under the burger.

  “Yes.”

  “Is it because of Barbie?”

  “No.”

  “He’s made it pretty clear you’re off limits.”

  “How?” She reached up to touch his damaged cheek. “Like this?”

  The unexpected gesture caught him off guard, but it was so fleeting, he wasn’t given the chance to take advantage of it. “No idea, but I definitely got the verbal warning.”

  “He’s got no right. I’m not his property, and we are not an item.”

  “Then why not come out with me?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, talking through a mouth full of bread and meat, as she devoured the cheeseburger like she hadn’t eaten in weeks.

  “I’d offer to buy you another,” he said, nodding at the greaseproof square, “but I wouldn’t want to spoil your appetite.” He was fishing. He knew it. But he wanted to get her to open up about her home life. Something wasn’t right there, and he was determined to find out what.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Won’t you be cooking up something when you get back?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “I can put two and two together. You haven’t eaten since lunch, and the other day you told me you made your father’s meals. Will he be okay waiting?”

  “I sorted him out when I got home.”

  “But didn’t eat yourself?”

  “What is this, an interrogation? I wasn’t hungry.”

  “There’s an empty wrapper on the table that says different.”

  She lowered her eyes. “I like burgers. What can I say?”

  “Why don’t you start by telling me about your dad?” The layabout who seems to have you at his beck and call.

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  “I think there is.” He waited for her to speak, but when she didn’t, he continued, “Okay. Then, let me tell you about mine. You might find it interesting.” He leaned back in his chair and picked at the corner of the empty, cardboard food packet, as he spoke. “I thought Dad was a regular dude. He loved his boys, taught us how to cycle, helped us with our homework, and took us to the football game every Saturday. All regular dad stuff. Then Mum died, and he changed. Kinda withdrew, you know what I mean? He stopped doing things with us, spent all his time looking at old photographs of him and Mum. It pissed me off how he ignored us, but I thought he would get over her death, given time, but then he killed himself.”


  Molly let out a gasp. “Oh, god. How awful.”

  “Yeah. I never saw his suicide coming. When it happened, I was mad at myself. I thought maybe if I’d taken more notice, I could have stopped him, and then, as time went on, I just got mad at him again, because of his selfishness in leaving his two sons alone in the world.”

  “You have a brother?”

  “Yeah, Johnny. He’s four years older and was at university when it happened. That pissed me off too. I had no one to share it with.”

  “You’ve spent a lot of time being angry.”

  “Yeah. I have.”

  For more than a year, he’d kept his feelings inside, deciding life was for living, because tomorrow, it could all end. Why he’d chosen now to let them out, he had no idea, but it felt like the right thing to do. Maybe, if he opened up to Molly, she’d do the same.

  “It was such a waste of a life,” he said.

  “I know what you mean.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah. My dad’s wasting his life, too. I mean, my mum’s not dead. At least, not that I know, but my dad hasn’t accepted the fact that she’s gone. He thinks she’ll come back, and it’s like his life is on hold. He does nothing but… drink. A lot. And he gets angry too.”

  Now he was getting somewhere. He shifted in his seat. “How angry?”

  “Pretty angry.”

  Tension stiffened his body, as she drew the split section of her lip into her mouth and sucked on it before letting it spring out again. He reached up to brush her jaw and run a thumb over the corner of her lip. “Is this his handiwork?”

  Avoiding his question, she turned to watch one of the burger joint’s employees wiping down tables, but she wasn’t taking an interest in his monotonous task. Her eyes were blank.

  Kendrick laid his hand over hers. “You don’t have to put up with it,” he said, answering the question for her.

  “It’s fine. He’s not angry at me; he’s angry at Mum and the world in general. Occasionally, he snaps. It’s nothing.”

  “Doesn’t look like nothing to me. No offence, but slapping on a bunch of war paint doesn’t always cover the evidence.”

  She stared at his hand, small lines wrinkling her brow. “I can handle it.”

  “You can’t let someone knock you about. It’s no way to live.”