10. Ryanne “Shorty” Larwick

10

RYANNE "SHORTY" LARWICK

Khadri barely said two words to me since the fire. With everything that had happened, I was pretty sure this was my fault too.

The fire department cleared the place after they made sure there would be a flashover—that's what they called it. Apparently, when a fire that had been put out, reignited, they called it a flashover.

The things I was learning during this bullshit was—well, bullshit.

I stayed out of his way and Pasha's since I was the cause of all of this.

They hadn't said it, but I knew this had something to do with Sloan. I spoke with Tex and Dude during that time. Tex thought he was on to something, but he wouldn't tell me what he suspected just in case he was wrong.

He didn't want to bring my hopes up.

Curling up on the windowsill, I watched Boss' car leave along with Pasha's then snuck from my room and tiptoed down the hall.

I didn't knock but stuck my head into the room to find Khadri.

He was naked—well, he was wrapped in a towel, but?—

Holding my breath, I stepped back into the hall, trying not to relive the sight of him. This wasn't a moment to be checking out his perfect ass in that towel and the wideness of his back that sloped down into a perfect waist.

His dark skin wanted me to touch it, to taste it, to feel it against my bare body.

"You don't have to hide from me, you know?" Khadri called. "I'm sorry I was so angry—I never wanted you to see that."

Nervous, I stood in the doorway, watching his back.

"Sorry, let me get dressed.

"It's your room." I laced my fingers behind me. "I shouldn't have brought you into this. Musk would still be standing—you wouldn't have gotten shot."

He approached me until my chest was pressed against his.

"Can you take my mind off it?" I asked, lifting my head to accommodate his height.

"And how do you want me to do that?"

I didn't answer.

Instead, I pushed to my tiptoes, framed his cheeks with shaking hands and eased upward—taller, straighter spine.

Khadri hung his head to help me and soon our lips connected—tenderly, powerfully.

I pressed my palms to his warm chest, moaned and shifted closer.

He stopped to stared down into my eyes.

"Please?"

He took my lips again—this time he was rougher, kissing me deeper, sucking on my tongue harder. My knees buckled and he caught me around my waist, holding me tightly against his full length.

Gripping the towel at his waist, I pulled him closer, feeling him harder against me and wanting more. A small voice told me not to be greedy, that I should enjoy this moment with him, to savour it because I probably won't have it again.

He rested a large palm to the back of my neck to hold me in place only to deepen the kiss as his other hand roamed my back, my hips, my ass—up my back again to my shoulder.

"Damn." I panted, wrenching my mouth back to catch my breath.

"Stop?"

"I can't—breathe?"

He chuckled and kissed me again until my knees did buckle under me. Khadri scooped me into his arms and placed me on his bed. My heart raced—not because I was afraid he would hurt me.

I was surprisingly ready for anything he wanted to do to me.

You haven't landscaped in years.

"Um—"

Khadri smiled at me and disappeared into his walk-in closet.

When he returned, he was dressed in a black pair of track pants. I immediately wondered if it had the same side-effect as a pair of grey sweats.

On him—it did.

Disappointed, I tried moving out of his way so he could climb into bed, but he simply took my arm and tugged me back to the center of the large bed.

He spread my thighs, climbed on and rested his body between them. His shoulders upward was on me as he cuddled his head against my stomach and rested his arms on either side of me.

"Khadri?"

"Mm?"

"I thought—I mean, what are you doing?"

"You thought I was going to make love to you." He spoke as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

My face was burning with embarrassment and all I wanted to do was run.

"I mean—" I stopped to learn how to breathe again. "You kissed me like you were."

"When you're ready, Shorty." He explained. "For now, I'm satisfied like this."

"Like this…"

"You're comforting me." He told me proudly. "Now, comfort me."

Smiling, I shook my head.

He fell asleep before I did.

And while I was awake, I caressed down his head to his back, making small gentle circles against his bare skin.

He was heavy against me, and I liked it—I wanted to stay awake to enjoy this moment for as long as I could.

I was barely asleep when the door opened, and Pasha stuck her head in. I pressed a finger to my lips.

"He okay?" She mouthed.

Though I wanted to frown and get away, I nodded and pointed to my head.

She nodded.

"Can you bring me a cold towel?"

"He's overheating again?"

Once more, I nodded.

Pasha disappeared from the room and while she was gone, I tried not feeling awkward about any of this. A part of me was beginning to believe Khadri wasn't involved with her, but it was still a little weird.

My self esteem was eating away at me—rather, my lack of self esteem was making this hurt a little bit more than it should.

Why shouldn't I hit on Khadri?

I was a woman too.

I had all the same things Pasha had—hell, my tits were far bigger.

Frowning, I sighed and shook my head.

The right things, Ryanne. Value the right things.

Right—I had a brain in my head.

I could take care of myself in the streets—I could cook.

I knew, deep down, I knew I was a good woman.

Pasha returned but she brought a basin with iced water and a face clothed submerged in the liquid. She wrung the cloth out, smoothed it and handed it to me.

"I'll leave you two alone." Pasha told me. "Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks."

Alone with him again, I used the cold cloth to wipe down the back of his neck, his shoulders, his arms before reaching across to dunk it into the water again. I couldn't wring all the water out from where I was under him, but I did the best I could.

I repeated it a few times until his body cooled enough to stop me from worrying. When I was finished, I wet the cloth again, wrung it out then placed it on his forehead.

Only then, did I allow myself to drift off to sleep again.

When I woke the next morning, I was alone in the bed. I was resting comfortably on the best pillows in the world with a pure white sheet over me up to my shoulders. At first, I was in heaven until I remembered what had happened the day and night before.

Jerking upright in bed, I glanced around then lifted the sheet to see I was still dressed.

"Ugh—he didn't even try taking advantage of me." I pouted.

"You wanted me to take advantage of you?"

Gasping, I jerked around to look toward the bathroom door.

"Stop eavesdropping on my inner thoughts." I muttered trying to climb from the bed.

"They're only inner thoughts if you don't say them out loud." He sat beside me. "How are you feeling? I'm sorry I fell asleep on you."

"It's fine—shouldn't I be asking you how you're feeling? You had a fever. You never warned me that the migraines come with a fever."

"Not all the time—just when they get really bad." He replied. "But I feel much better."

"Good."

He smiled and leaned over to kiss me gently on the lips.

"That's your reward for being an amazing nurse." He told me. "Pasha told me."

"Of course, she did."

"Shorty…"

"I need to shower." I told him. "Then I should get back to job hunting."

"Nothing yet?"

Shrugging, I straightened my clothes.

"What can I say?" I asked. "It's hard out here for a pimp."

Khadri laughed.

"Eh—about last night?—"

"What about last night?" I asked. "Other than you owe me one?—"

Khadri bit into his lush bottom lip as his eyes dipped down my body then slowly trailed upward. They paused at my breasts.

I snapped my fingers.

He looked at me.

"My eyes are up here." I pointed.

"I wasn't looking for your eyes, Shorty." He admitted openly. "I meant to stare at your breasts. And as you were saying, I owe you a fuck."

I covered my face.

The last thing I expected was for him to be that open.

His hot breath washed against the side of my face and stopped at my ear.

"I'm that kind of boyfriend, Shorty." He whispered. "I'm going to need you to decide if you can handle that."

I was busy soaking my panties as his heavy footsteps carried him to the door.

"Oh—and come down for breakfast. We have a little trip to take."

The weight of a million ghosts sat on my shoulders the moment Khadri pulled the truck up to the large mansion that seemed as though it had seen better days. The gate was layered in cobwebs and the house beyond had all the windows boarded up.

The sands of time had blasted against the concrete, punched holes in the wood, rusted the metals. The right side of the large yard was overgrown. The other side was cobblestones but grass was trying to grow in the grooves between each stone.

"What's this place?" I asked as he returned from opening the lock to ease the large truck through.

"Sloan's phone pinged from here a few days ago." He explained.

He turned the engine off.

"We couldn't find out what this place was so I asked Tex to do some digging." Khadri turned in his seat. "It used to belong to your parents."

"Why would he come here?" I asked. "And are you sure my parents owned this and not worked here?"

"I'm sure." He confirmed. "For some reason, they abandoned it about two years before you were born. I was hoping something here would tell me why Sloan was here."

I didn't move.

"This place doesn't jive with my father being a brain then leaving to work at some factory." I pointed out. "Something feels off."

"That's precisely what I'd been thinking." Khadri agreed. "But I didn't want to worry you—my gut feeling alone isn't proof."

"Yeah, I get that."

Ever since I was a baby, I clamoured for something that belonged to my parents. But they'd left me nothing—not a blanket made in preparation of my birth, not a necklace—nothing.

Yet here this house was, a three-and-a-half-hour drive north of Toronto on the most beautiful piece of land I'd ever seen.

But all I felt standing in front of it was darkness, almost like a cloud draping itself over everything.

"You can stay in the truck." Khadri was saying.

I shook my head to find him standing in front of me, tipping my chin up with a tender finger.

"What? No."

"If it's hard for you, I can go have a look around." He glanced over his shoulder then back at me. "The truck is secure."

"It's fine." I assured him. "I've never gotten this close to anything that belonged to my parents before. Um—can I ask a favour?"

He nodded.

"Can I hold your hand?"

Khadri smiled and took my hand in his.

Together we walked around the vast house.

It blew my mind my parents could have owned something like this.

I remembered what Khadri said about them abandoning it and I wondered the reason behind that decision.

It didn't feel as if it was them—even though I didn't know them.

Sometimes I felt things that I was sure wasn't a part of my nature. I often wondered if those sensations came from my father or my mother's DNA.

Sometimes they hurt my soul—the not knowing.

The not being able to reconcile those feelings with a location and origin. Often, I would shrug it off as just a strange case of repeated paranoia.

Other times I sat with those demons, I communed with them, and the conversation left me feeling lacking and definitely wanting.

A step inside the main hall crumbled under my weight. Khadri caught me against his chest and held onto me even after I was steady on my feet again.

"Be careful." He chastised.

"I'm okay."

The second level looked as if it walked out of a fairytale. The bedrooms were large with floral wallpaper. But even then, I knew it was the height of fashion back in the day.

The beds were covered in dust.

The cobwebs had moved in and taken up residences evident from hundreds of discarded webs. Something scurried across the floor in front of me. I screamed and hopped up into Khadri's arms.

He laughed and held me that way until I realized what I'd done.

"I'm heavy." I pouted. "Put me down."

He kissed me nose, twirled me around then set me on my feet.

I shook my head but smiled as I turned to open a drawer to find a dusty jewelry box. Glancing back at Khadri, my hands shook as I reached in for it.

Khadri took pity on me, stretched around my body to pluck the box from the drawer and set it on top of the dresser. There, I was able to open it.

Inside was a single silver necklace with a star shaped pendant. Surprised, I lifted it out and opened the locket to find a picture of my mother in one side, but the other was empty.

It was the first time I was seeing her—even though she'd died in a horrific car accident, for some reason there weren't any pictures of her or my father in any newspaper that I could find. I thought it was because they weren't famous, that their death hadn't been covered.

"What's wrong?" Khadri asked as he used his arms to consume me.

"This is my mother." I sniffled. "I didn't get my looks from her—I'd be a beauty queen."

He kissed my neck.

"You're beautiful, Shorty." He whispered. "Why do you not see it?"

I didn't reply. I turned the locket over in my hand

"Do you think I could keep this?"

"Technically, the house should be yours." His breath was hot on my neck.

"I don't want the house. I'm happy with this."

Khadri took the necklace from my hands and helped to place it around my neck. When I turned to face him, he smiled down at me before pulling me into a hug.

It began raining then, a strange kind of music coming down atop the place that my parents once dwelled. It wasn't the kind of sound that soothed me like rain usually did. There was a heaviness to the symphony—reminding me of a time a friend of mine snuck me into the opera while they were showing Carmen,

I couldn't remember ever being that sad about anything—even the life I'd had wasn't as sad as the haunting sounds of the singers.

We searched through the house, checking doors that had access to the outside. One in the basement had been breached—that was how Khadri related it to me.

I'd peeked around his body to see he meant someone had broken into the property through it.

"How did they even get in here?" I asked.

"Evil finds a way." Khadri muttered.

Nervous, I pushed my hand back into his as we continued searching.

We found some clothes—it seemed my mother was quite the fashionista. They were designers of the time—there was a dress by Vivienne Westwood dress with the tag still on it. I wished I had the body to wear something like that.

Blushing, I set in back into the closet.

"I definitely didn't inherit my mother's DNA—well any of the good ones that is." I moved around the room to find makeup that had long since dried out, a box that looked like something from China—very pretty.

It was black with a red dragon wrapped around it. The head and mouth of the dragon acted as the latch the lock it.

It was empty.

"Okay, I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that this whole thing has something to do with your parents." Khadri sniffed at a bottle sitting on the bedside table, now covered in dust.

The lamp was a Tiffany.

We entered what looked like a library. The shelves were bare, the desk was empty and the room looked as if there was an attack and it had gotten the brunt of the madness.

"Why is this room like this?" I turned around, trying to see anything.

"I'm not sure." He used a nail to pull open one of the desk drawers. "Something happened here—it looks as if someone was looking for something and it's fresh."

"How do you know?"'

Khadri pointed. "The dust—it's been disturbed."

He handed me his phone to take pictures around the room, especially ta safe that sat open. It was magically spotless, which didn't seem right.

If it had been hanging open all these years, it should have dead bugs, cobwebs, dust.

Someone opened it recently and removed everything that was inside.

Or did they open it and found it bare?

"My parents couldn't be the ones sending killers after me." I spoke as we descended the stairs together. "So, what does this mean?"

"It means either someone who knew your parents and their secrets is now after you," Khadri said. "Or?—"

"Or?"

We stopped at the foot of the staircase and I faced him.

"I don't?—"

"Khadri. Say it."

"Or your parents are alive."

I scoffed.

"My parents aren't alive." I shook my head and opened the heavy front doors.

The temperature had fallen but it wasn't cool enough to do anything for me. A gust of wind sent rain in on me and I squealed, then flailed.

"I used to love the rain." I sighed.

"Used to?"

I nodded.

"Tell me, Shorty." Khadri pressed his body to my back. "Have you ever gotten it on in the backseat of a truck?"

I blushed.

"Khadri Weston!"

"Mm?"

I lifted my neck back to look up at him.

He had a very flat nose— damn, he's sexy.

"I'm not having sex with you in the back of your truck for our first time." I told him emphatically. "That's not where I saw myself doing it with you our first time."

Khadri arched a brow and gripped my shoulders to turn me around.

"You've thought about a time with me?" He grinned, quite proud of himself.

"Open the truck." I pouted.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Why do I need to answer?" I met his playful gaze.

Khadri dragged his palms down my arms to lace his fingers with mine. He used the hold to pull me against him while licking his lips.

"Because." Khadri bowed his head to nip my shoulder. "It makes me feel sexy knowing you've been undressing me in your mind. Any man who tells you that doesn't turn him on is lying. That or he's never been naked for a woman."

My cheeks merely burned more.

"Open the truck." I kissed his chin.

Khadri sighed, rooted into his pocket for the remote to open the truck.

"And FYI." I chortled after hearing the doors clicked through the rain and the alarm chirped. "I have thought of us together!"

I darted out into the rain before he could catch me around the hips. The cool water soaked easily through my hair and top making me squeal then giggle while hoisting myself up into the truck.

"Woman!" He growled.

I stuck my head out to stick my tongue at him then slammed the door.

When I looked through the rain-soaked windshield, Khadri was standing inside the front door, smiling with his fingers shoved deeply into his pockets.

Sweet baby Jesus.

It's only a matter of time before he drove me, body and all, through a bed, or a wall or the backseat of this truck—and I can't wait.