CHAPTER SIX
It wasn’t speed or power that Jake craved. There was nothing more soothing than the deep throated roar of the Triumph’s engine. It was music to his ears. The pipes had been cut to give that extra growl and as Jake let it fly down the motorway, the cold, damp spring air trying its best to penetrate the clothing that was rustling in the wind, he could feel all the day’s tension evaporating.
As hard as he’d tried, the phone call hadn’t left his mind. Although he doubted it would be one of the Morgans, Jake had called their number in case for some reason they’d been unable to get him on his mobile, but he’d got no answer. No surprise there. There was no one else it could possibly be and it had irked him all day. Whoever it was hadn’t called back. They might never call back, and where would that leave him? With a case of paranoia that had already started to set in.
Zoning everything out except the sound and feel of his motorbike, Jake enjoyed the ride, imagining being somewhere else: the panoramic roads through the Venetian Alps, or around the mountains of Norway with breathtaking views of the Fjords. He’d never been to either of those places but he’d always planned to. Had his heart set on visiting as many places as he could, riding solo on his motorbike. That was before, though. Now it was nothing more than a dream, one so far beyond his reach that even his passion had faded. Still, he always imagined.
As Jake approached his exit off the motorway, he was tempted to keep going, to ride until he ran out of petrol. It was something he hadn’t done in a long time, let the bike just take him, but he was starving and what was the point really. After the busy day he’d had, and the stress on top of his workload, he was ready to kick back on the sofa with a few cans of lager. That was about the extent of adventure for him nowadays.
He never usually rode home this late and was surprised at how busy the roads still were. No way he’d expected to be in slow-moving traffic at half eight at night but he guessed that was one of the drawbacks of living in a busy town and working late. It wasn’t because he had to. Going home to his dark and dingy flat wasn’t all that appealing, so he’d stayed late to finish some jobs, and Sam had left him the keys to lock up. Luckily he’d picked up a ready meal from the supermarket when he’d popped in earlier to get some new t-shirts for work. Processed food saves the day yet again.
When he finally got moving again, he noticed something wrong with the bike. It wasn’t pulling right. He was literally three minutes from his street when the damn thing spluttered and the engine cut right out.
Shit. He’d just changed the plugs this morning. That should have sorted the problem. Turning the key to the off position, Jake realised what the issue probably was and wanted to kick his own arse. He turned the ignition back on and a glance at the fuel gauge confirmed it. Empty. His head had been so pickled all day he’d forgotten to fuel up.
Jake removed his helmet and secured it on the back of the seat, and got to pushing the damn thing, which wasn’t easy considering the weight. Thank God he’d only conked out right before he turned into the estate where he lived so he wasn’t too far away. At least it had stopped raining.
Working up a sweat, he was thinking about leaving the thing there until he got some fuel in the morning when voices drifted over on the wind. He’d turned off the main road, and the street that led to his was a lot quieter so he picked up on male laughter coming from up ahead. Moving a little further, a group of lads came into view though it was hard to make them out in the darker part of the street where they were. Then a woman’s voice put him on high alert because she definitely wasn’t laughing along with them. It sounded like she’d cried out. As he got closer enough to see her there was no doubt in his mind that she was in distress. It was a split second for his brain to realise what was going on and that was when he left his bike on its stand, rushing over.
There was a struggle. One of the lads had hold of the blonde woman’s arm as the rest of them laughed and taunted. There was four of them altogether. None of them looked tough, at least not to him. To a lone female though. . . Yeah, it made them dead tough. Jake was all fired up as he made his way towards them, rage burning hot in his veins. Without even thinking how dangerous the situation could be—any of the lads could have a knife—all he cared about was getting the woman away from the scumbag and his little cronies. He removed his bike jacket so it didn’t hinder his movements should things turn ugly.
The woman called for her attacker to let go of her, prompting Jake to move faster when he heard the fear in her voice. The handle on her bag snapped in her struggle to get away. She didn’t manage it. But that was about to change.
“Hey. Let her go.” Jake charged over to the gang just as the woman stuck a boot into her assailant’s crotch. “What the fuck’s going on?”
* * *
Charlie’s attacker bent over choking back the pain she’d inflicted on him and suddenly she was free. Before she even had chance to blink, a large body came into view and as Ratty looked up, the new guy punched him hard in the face. He fell backwards, eyes wide and watering as he stumbled, only just catching his footing while he held his hand over his bleeding nose. Then he turned and ran, the rest of the gang following as quickly, leaving her stuff scattered on the ground. Leaning over, holding her stomach as it ached with nausea all of a sudden, Charlie could barely get her breath.
“Hey. You okay?” A warm hand pressed against her shoulder and Charlie looked up to a dark-haired man, his handsome face full of concern. His hand stayed where it was as she rested her hands on her thighs, then he removed it once he saw that she was steady. “Did they hurt you?”
It took her a moment to answer while she crouched down to gather up her things. Oh, hey, they’d been kind enough to leave her purse but when she looked inside the money and the cards were gone. The stranger helped her put her notebooks and pens back where they belonged.
Her wrist was burning from the lad’s grip; thankfully that was all. “Um, no. I’m okay.” Her hand went to her forehead as she went to get up and realised she was shaking, her heart erratic in her chest. The stranger helped her stand, holding her forearms gently as he guided her up, a thick leather jacket draped over his arm.
“Have you seen those lads around here before?” She noticed he was looking at his phone as he dialled a number and then his eyes went back over to the green where the gang had disappeared into the shadows. He was tall, maybe six feet or close to it. In the dim overhead street lighting it was hard to see the true colour of his eyes beyond the midnight sky they appeared to be. But why was she wondering about that right now? When he put his phone up to his ear he looked at her with a harsh frown and she remembered he’d asked a question.
“No I don’t think so. I mean, I’ve seen lads hanging around the area before but I don’t think I recognised any of them.”
His hand went to her shoulder again as he spoke into his phone, as if on instinct. “Yeah, police please.”
“Oh, no—” She tried to protest.
“Hello? I need to report an assault. . . ”
It was the last thing Charlie wanted. Her day had been far too long already without having to wait for an officer to come over, which could take hours. All she wanted was to run a hot bath and put the whole twenty-four hours behind her, but it seemed her saviour had other plans for the rest of her evening.
“You live around here?” Charlie hadn’t realised he’d finished talking to the officer until she looked up to see him waiting for an answer from her, the phone away from his ear.
She nodded, still trying to get her anxiety under control. “The flats in the corner of Holland Park, just over there.”
His eyebrows went up briefly and his head lifted a little, but he didn’t say anything. “Sorry?” He spoke into the phone again. “Uh, yeah sure. Hang on.” The harshness disappeared from his features as he quickly removed his hand from her shoulder like he’d only just realised it was still on there. He held the phone out to her. “They want to talk to you. Is that okay?”
Reluctantly, Charlie nodded and took the man’s phone. She recounted everything she could about the boys and told the officer she didn’t think they were around any longer so there was probably no point in pursuing it, and that all she wanted to do was go home. It didn’t work. The woman told her she’d send a car over to the area to see if they could find the gang from the brief description Charlie had given, and they’d call in to take a proper statement. Great. Not exactly how she’d planned her evening, or what little of it she had left anyway.
After she finished giving her details she ended the call. Handing the phone back to the stranger, she noticed he was looking at her with a strange expression on his good-looking face as he placed the phone back in his jeans pocket. For a moment, Charlie couldn’t look away, noticing his jaw was tense.
“So we live in the same building.”
Charlie paused. They did? He wasn’t familiar. In fact, she was certain she’d never seen him before. He didn’t exactly have a face she’d forget. Perhaps he lived on one of the upper floors.
“We do?”
“What floor?” they said together. Only Charlie smiled. Then they both said, “First,” at the same time again.
Her floor? But there were only three—
That was when her brain switched back on and she noticed the navy hoodie he was wearing, the leather jacket on his arm. She glanced down at his worn, grey jeans, then his heavy, black boots. Then her eyes moved past him and she saw a motorbike parked by the kerb a little further down the road.
J. Sure.
It was him.
After all this time of trying to see his face, to meet or get a glance of him out in the hall, almost to the point of stalking the guy, here he was standing right in front of her after swooping in and saving her from a gang of arseholes. And it was a good job she’d already had the wind knocked out of her because. . . Wow. Her neighbour was gorgeous. When she looked at him again it was with even more interest now. His deep brown hair was all choppy and tussled, obviously from a helmet. Short stubble highlighted a strong jaw line and lips that were full, but set tight. Dark brows were pulled down, one slightly lower than the other, over intense eyes that were almost navy in the light—eyes that she noticed had narrowed on her.
“I should. . . ” He twisted and pointed over his shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked when he turned back to her.
“I’m honestly fine. My bag took the worst of it.” She held it up by the body, the broken strap hanging limp.
“I can walk with you if you give me a sec. My bike’s just back there.” She glanced at the bike again, totally recognising it as it stood at the other end of the street resting on its stand under the street light. “I was pushing it back when I saw what was going on.” He must have seen the question in her eyes. “Ran out of fuel.”
“No honestly. It’s two-hundred yards away. I think I’ll be safe enough now. Go get your bike.” As he backed away he glanced at her like he was unsure whether to leave and it made Charlie’s chest fill with something unfamiliar that she would probably question later. She tried to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m fine. And thank you.” He nodded and walked away. Then she called out to him. “Hey. What’s your name?” It would be nice to know what the J was for.
Pausing without looking back, she wondered why he dropped his head before answering so quietly she only just about caught what he said, “Jake.” Then he headed off in the direction of his bike.
Jake. Jake Sure.
He hadn’t asked for hers, but Charlie hoped that now they had finally met, this wouldn’t be their only interaction.
Walking towards home, she smiled and couldn’t help thinking: isn’t it funny how life can knock you on your arse one minute, then give you a pretty big boon the next.