No Going Back by Casey Kelleher (black male authors TXT) 📗

sights. Brightly painted yellow walls. A purple velvet chair in the corner of the room. A dressing table next to it laden with expensive-looking make-up and perfume bottles. And a half-finished bottle of vodka tipped on its side. He wondered for a few seconds where he was. He wasn’t at home, that was for sure. This place looked much plusher than his place back at the Griffin Estate. Scanning the floor, he followed the trail of clothing that had been discarded on the sanded floorboards, till his gaze finally rested on the red lace bra hanging from the door handle, at the same time as he felt a movement behind him.

Kate. He grinned then, his mouth feeling cracked and dry with the small movement. The bitter taste of alcohol he’d consumed last night, stale now, lingering on his tongue. His head was pounding, his whole body on fire. Instantly he recalled the beating that he’d taken last night – this wasn’t simply just the hangover kicking in.

Kate had found him sprawled out in the alleyway after she’d finished her shift. Ashley had stuck to his story of getting jumped by a gang of kids. He’d said that they’d tried to steal his wallet and phone, but Ashley had managed to fight them all off. Beside herself with concern and sympathy, Kate had insisted that he come home with her so she could look after him. And she had looked after him. Spectacularly. He could feel her behind him. Still asleep in the bed. Her warm skin pressed against his.

Turning, Ashley grimaced as the pain took over. Still, it was worth it, he thought as he lifted the covers, his grin widening as he took in the sight of Kate in all her naked glory. The subtle curve of the woman’s soft, tanned lower back, her bare buttocks pressing against his thighs. Even now, he could feel himself stirring, turned on by the sight of her. He’d surpassed himself this time; this woman was a solid ten out of ten.

Shelby. Shit. He wondered what the time was. Wincing in pain, he reached down to where his jeans lay discarded on the floor next to the bed, and picked up his mobile phone, switching it on and was instantly irritated to see he had thirty missed calls from Shelby. Which he’d been expecting, if he was honest. What he hadn’t been expecting, however, were the numerous missed calls from Pete and Janey too.

Ashley closed his eyes, recalling the Boland brothers’ threat. That they had sent someone around to his flat to dish out a warning. Ashley could only hope and pray that Shelby had stuck to her word and gone to her parents’ house, like she’d said.

She’d sounded sincere enough, from what he could make out between the loaded threats and the stream of abuse that had followed, which had only reinforced his decision to go home with Kate in the end.

Having been beaten to within an inch of his life last night and feeling very sorry for himself, it was no contest in picking between going home to an empty flat or back here with Kate.

Kate had been horrified at the sight of him and had gone out of her way to make a fuss over him and look after him.

What if Shelby was just running her mouth? What if she stayed at the flat after all?

They wouldn’t have hurt a woman, would they? They’d been calling his bluff. He’d been certain of it. Only if that really were the case, why were there so many missed calls?

Noting the nearly empty battery symbol in the corner of the screen, Ashley decided that he’d use that to his advantage later when he finally went home with his tail between his legs. He’d tell Shelby that he was attacked. That a gang had set upon him last night and left him for dead all night in the alleyway that ran alongside the club. That he couldn’t call her because his phone had died. That he hadn’t seen any of her missed calls. It was a weak and obvious bullshit excuse, but it was all that Ashley had – he just didn’t have the energy for Shelby’s melodramatics about him staying out all night yet again. Getting beaten up would be his perfect cover. She’d soon forgive him this time when she realised that he was hurt. The hard-faced-cow persona that Shelby put on was all just an act.

And Pete and Janey would get over it too, eventually. What else could they do? They couldn’t have a go at him for getting beaten up. And it wasn’t as if Ashley was going anywhere any time soon; they’d both made sure of that.

‘Oh, you’re awake?’ Kate said, turning over and eyeing Ashley with a wry grin. ‘I can’t believe that you’re actually here. In my bed. I didn’t think it would happen, what with your wife being pregnant and all…’

‘Shh, don’t.’ Ashley said, not wanting Kate to mention Shelby by name and break the spell. ‘Let’s not talk about any of that now.’ He suddenly realised that it hadn’t been his imagination. That Kate really was into him in a big way.

He’d made it clear from the start weeks ago, that he was going to be a dad soon and that he wasn’t looking for anything serious. He just wanted to have a bit of fun. Part of him had been laying it all out there and testing Kate, to see if that would put her off.

Only to his relief, the fact that he was about to become a new dad seemed to have the opposite effect on her completely.

Kate always asked about the baby. And he’d found himself confiding in her more and more lately.

‘How are you feeling? Your face looks so sore.’

‘It looks worse than it is,’ Ashley lied. ‘And I’m all the better for waking up next to you, let me tell you.’ Ashley smiled then, not missing a trick at sweet