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Dylan smiles and shrugs in a kind of we’re-in-this-together gesture. He goes to the fridge, gets a bottle of mineral water and offers one to me. I accept it, then he drops down on the sofa and grabs the remote control to put the TV on.
‘You had a rough night yesterday, I heard.’
Someone breaking in and pointing a gun at you could be described as rough, I guess, so I smile and nod.
‘And now I can’t go home.’ I sit down on the opposite sofa.
‘’S tough.’ He nods to my water bottle. ‘You want something stronger than water? Whisky? Beer? Take the edge off.’
‘No, thank you.’
‘I guess this kind of sucks, huh? Having to follow Slater round. Not being able to hang out with your friends.’ He rests his feet on the coffee table between us, elbows on his bent knees.
‘I’m used to it. My father never lets me out, anyway.’
‘Yeah, I heard what happened to your mum. I’m sorry.’
I shrug. ‘It happened.’ I look around. ‘Is this Slater’s office?’
‘Yup.’
‘And you work for him?’
Dylan considers my question, rubbing his fingers over his goatee beard.
‘Slater’s the boss, yes. He’s also my best friend. But we’re in this together, the five of us: the three Slater brothers, plus Sepp and me.’
‘How come Slater’s the boss?’ I tip my head to one side, curious.
‘You’ve met him, right? He likes to be in control. I mean, really likes it.’ He grins. ‘But we own this and the other places together.’
‘How many places are there, again? I think Slater told me, but I don’t remember.’
‘We’ve got three fight clubs, and plan to open another soon. And we’re opening a bar, too.’ He shrugs. ‘We’re building an empire.’
‘And you’re a fighter, too?’
‘Yup.’
‘Like Slater?’ I remember him taking down the gunman with his bare hands.
‘Like Slater, but maybe not quite as good.’
There’s a knock at the door. Dylan looks over his shoulder.
‘Yeah?’ he calls out. The door opens and another man who looks like a younger version of Slater comes in. He has the same sharp jawline dusted with dark stubble, a broad and muscular build, but he’s a little shorter and has no visible tattoos.
‘Not disturbing anything here, am I?’ He stands beside the sofa. ‘You’re the famous Daleylah Martinez? Daughter of El Patron?’
‘I wouldn’t say famous.’ I laugh, nervously.
‘I’ve heard of you.’ He sits down beside me.
‘And you’re Slater’s brother?’
‘What gave it away?’
He cocks his head. His hair is longer than Slater’s and falls to the side as he moves.
‘You do look very similar.’
‘Except I’m younger and better looking. Bram Slater.’ He holds out his hand and I shake it. ‘I can see why my brother’s been keeping you to himself.’
‘It’s actually quite complicated.’ My cheeks heat up.
He holds up his hand. ‘It’s OK. I know all about it. I’m just glad he decided to let you out for an excursion.’ He looks around the office. ‘Although, this isn’t where I’d bring you on our first date.’
‘It’s not a date. He said he had a class to teach.’
Bram puts a hand on my arm. ‘I’m joking. Hey, D, turn it over, there’s a race starting in a minute.’
Dylan flips the channel and they gaze up at the screen, watching cars whizzing round a track. Bram shifts so he can see better, his leg pressing against mine.
‘Do you mind this?’ Dylan asks me. ‘We can put something else on if you prefer.’
‘No, it’s fine.’ I feel awkward, and I’m happy they’re focused on something other than babysitting me.
‘Thanks. With Slater on holiday we haven’t had much time off. It’s good he’s stepping in for an hour.’
Dylan turns back to the screen and I follow his gaze, although my mind is not on motor racing. It’s on Slater. I get tingles in my stomach when I think about him and what he did to me this morning in bed. He said nothing more would happen, so why do I keep hoping that it will? And why is he all I can think about?
The door opening again breaks my thoughts. Slater comes in. He’s wearing the martial arts suit, there’s a towel around his neck and his skin is glistening with sweat. I can’t help the smile that creeps over my face at seeing him again as I look up and meet his gaze.