Taming Blade (Kings Reapers MC Book 5), Nicola Jane [books for 7th graders TXT] 📗

me I’m the last person she’s gonna call. “Or maybe Ethan, if you don’t want to speak to me. These men aren’t like the brothers in the Kings.”

“It’s hard to see who the bad guys are right now,” she mutters.

“Fuck you, Tillie. An hour with Acid and you’d wish you’d never said that.”

Chapter Fifteen

TILLIE

I was right—Sara jumped straight back into bed with Lake, and now, three days on, she hasn’t heard from him . . . again. I place a Styrofoam cup before her and it breaks her daydream. “Come on, Sara. He’s an arse, but if you’re that upset, call him.”

“I’m not upset. Who said I was upset?” she snaps. I arch a brow and she sighs. “Sorry. I’m just mad at myself. Why did I do it?”

The shop door opens and I falter as Acid waltzes in followed by another of his goons. I was confident we wouldn’t hear from him, even after Blade’s warnings. He smiles wide, like I’m a long-lost friend. “Ladies, we meet again.” He runs a hand over the glass shelving and picks out a jar of chocolate buttons. “My favourite,” he says, unscrewing the lid and dipping his oil-stained hand in. He scoops out a handful and pops them into his mouth. “You didn’t mention you were in bed with the Kings,” he says.

“I’m not,” I say, trying to sound confident.

“But Blade just happened to be waiting for you outside my club?”

“I guess so,” I say, shrugging. “I know some of the ol’ ladies at his club.”

He shakes his head, his expression mildly pissed. “Come on now, sweet pea, don’t tell me lies. I fucking hate that.”

“We had a thing once, but it’s in the past,” I rush to add. “He sometimes follows me, turns up where I am,” I lie.

“Umm,” he says thoughtfully, placing the jar back. “I have a business proposition for you.”

“I can’t make business decisions. I don’t own this place,” I say.

“But your grandmother does.” He’s done his homework and it makes me more nervous.

“What’s your proposition?” I ask impatiently. I just want them to leave.

He leans his hands against the front counter and smiles at me. “Protection. I can offer your little shop protection.”

“From the frail old ladies who come in here to get their weekly sweet treat?” asks Sara. “This is a sweet shop. We sell candy to kids.”

Acid completely ignores Sara and keeps his eyes on me. “For a small fee, we can protect you and your shop from all kinds of trouble. And, because you’re Cobra’s daughter, I’ll even add a discount. That ex of yours won’t follow you ever again.”

“Like Sara said, I don’t need protection. We’re a quiet shop with regular customers.”

“But what about you? Being Cobra’s daughter can’t be easy. He had a lot of enemies,” he says, smirking at his sidekick. “Who knows who might show up.”

“No one knows he’s my dad. I only just found that out myself,” I say. An uneasy feeling spreads through me and I grip the counter tighter until my fingers ache.

“Look,” he says, holding his hands up like he’s relaxed and friendly, “the offer is there, just think it over and call me if you change your mind.” He slides his number across the counter.

I wait for them to leave before sagging against the wall. “Fuck, you’d better call Blade,” says Sara.

“No. I don’t need to hassle him. Acid’s gone. He seemed okay with me turning down his ridiculous offer.”

“Why do you think he’s called Acid?” she asks warily.

“Blade got his name because he’s good with knives, so lord only knows,” I mutter.

It’s the middle of the night, and I can hear an annoying buzzing from somewhere in the room. It’s a few seconds before I realise it’s my mobile phone. I blindly pat my hand along the bedside table until I grip it and press it to my ear. “Miss Edwards?” The voice sounds official, so I push myself to sit, glancing at my bedside clock. It’s one in the morning.

“Yes,” I whisper, my voice hoarse from sleep.

“This is PC Caborn from the Metropolitan Police. There’s been an incident involving Sweetastic. You might want to head over to check out the damage.”

I throw my sheets off and grab my jogging bottoms. “Damage?” I repeat, balancing the phone between my jaw and shoulder.

“Yes, your shop has been targeted by vandals.”

I drag Sara out of bed and head to the shop. When we arrive, I’m shocked at the mess. The main front window is smashed and the display is now scattered carelessly across the shop floor. “Oh Christ,” I mutter.

“You can step inside but try not to touch anything. We might be able to get some fingerprints,” says the officer, smiling sympathetically.

I step carefully through the open door and glass crunches under my trainers. Every sweet jar is smashed, the contents spread over the floor carelessly. I stand in the middle of the shop with my arms folded over my chest and slowly spin around, taking in the amount of damage. This place doesn’t earn enough to cover this and claiming on the insurance will only put up the premiums.

“Who the hell would break into a sweet shop?” growls Sara.

“You’d be surprised,” says the cop, shrugging. “A lot of junkies need a sweet treat when they’re coming down from a high. Or it could just be kids impressing their mates.”

I shake my head, knowing exactly who this was. I pull out my phone and dial Blade’s number. It rings for a few seconds before his panting breath comes on the line. I hesitate, wondering what’s causing his breathlessness. “Sunshine, you okay?” he asks.

“Erm . . .” I look around the mess again. “Not really. The shop is . . . Acid came. Oh shit, what am I gonna do?” My sobs take me by surprise and I cover my mouth to try and stifle them.

“Acid? What about him?”

“Just come to the shop, please,” I mutter, disconnecting.

Sara gently rubs my arm.