Trust (London Love #5)

“In a different lifetime,” I countered. I wasn’t having this. “The guy in the loo?”

He motioned to the door and handed me Gray’s phone. “He was shaking so much he couldn’t even make the call. Then he locked himself in there and refused to come out.”

Seriously. People these days had no clue. I stared at the stall door for a second. Then, with a swift twist of the handle, revealed the emergency latch and kicked the door open.

And there he was, curled into a ball on the toilet seat, looking like…

Oh shit.

“Come,” I said softly, dragging him into my arms. “What the fuck have you done?”

He was shaking all over, and I didn’t blame him. What the hell was going on?

“I have a car outside. Lead the way,” I told Khan. Where was his mate? There were two of them, and they needed to work together. Fast. Fuck this. Fuck this!

I almost had to carry Gray upstairs, dragging him past the security guard while the crowd went mad.

Well, until that Kairo did his thing and ploughed through the crowd while his mate shouted for them to back off. Camera flashes everywhere. More people surged forward. The guards blocked them, and I was grateful. This was not how normal, decent people behaved. Somehow, this Kairo and his colleague managed to contain them long enough for me to get Gray into the backseat of the car, and the second the door was closed, Dad sped off like some getaway driver from those movies. No seat belts. No more bloody camera flashes. I looked out the rear window and shuddered. This was insane.

“Sorry,” he muttered into my neck.

“Shush.” I wasn’t ready to talk. My heart was still beating like crazy, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what he’d been trying to achieve with that little stunt. He’d put me in a shitty situation, and Dad, who was not happy.

I was a hundred per cent not happy.

“I’m working tomorrow,” I told him curtly as we pulled up outside the house. “Dad’s pulling a double. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” he admitted, awkwardly getting out of the car. The road was quiet. Well, I doubted any of those kids had followed us, not with my dad’s insane driving. And then I had to laugh, because my dad looked ridiculous in his coat, pyjama pants that were far too short for him and slippers. He opened the front door, ruffling Gray’s hair as we all went inside. Gray dumped his rucksack on the sofa; Dad flicked the kettle on.

“Do I need any details?” he asked.

Gray slumped on a chair, suddenly engrossed with the tabletop.

“Okay,” Dad said quietly. “I think we need to set some rules here, young man.”

“Sorry,” Gray said again. Like he was a child. Fucking hell.

“What happened?” I asked. I had a teacher once who’d helped me with getting the words out by rephrasing things. Small questions. Simple answers.

He shrugged. “Just wanted to get here.”

Okay. I sat down next to him. Dad made tea. Three cups. Milk. No sugar.

The calming sounds of spoon against ceramics. The soft rip of a packet of biscuits. The clock showed just after midnight.

“I fucked up.”

“You have a driver,” Dad said. “It’s probably a good idea to use them next time. Or just ring me. I’ll come get you. So will Reubs here, won’t you, Reubs?”

I nodded, because yes, I would. Anything not to get mobbed in bloody McDonald’s again. That had been seriously scary. All those people. Camera flashes. A mob of insanity. Fuelled by bloody rumours and stupidity.

“Sometimes I like being normal. Like, getting the bus. Riding the Tube. I got all the way to Peckham, but there was a bunch of girls on the train, moving closer and closer. I changed carriages, but they followed me. So I got off and got back on the same train further down. They found me again.” He had to stop and breathe. Took a sip of his tea. Scratched his head. He needed a haircut.

“Then there were more of them at the station when I got off, like they’d called all their friends or something, and I made a run for it, but I didn’t know where I was going. I was trying to Google map my way here, and suddenly they were all around me asking for selfies and taking pictures and…”

“Frightening. We’ve seen it before, Graham, but you’re safe now.”

Dad was good at this. He pushed the packet of biscuits Gray’s way. I’d already had three, but I took another one, dunked it vigorously in my tea and shoved it in my mouth, crumbs everywhere. Adrenaline comedown, probably.