Chapter 33: Fighting Mr. Knight: Chapter 33

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Tristan’s eyes gleam as I enter through the velvet curtain. Huxley Cocktail Club is Tristan’s favourite private members’ bar.

Apparently, they pump scents into the air to make you relaxed and horny.

Sometimes I’d prefer an old man’s pub where the aroma is blue collar sweat and my choice of drink is lager or extra-strong lager.

“Leave it out, mate.” I roll my eyes at him.

“Can I take your coat, Jack?” Alexia, the hostess, runs a hand down my arm. She’s over six feet with a body perfect for modelling Victoria’s Secret’s underwear.

I should know, I’ve seen her in it.

“Thanks, Alexia.” I smile back, trying to dodge the come-fuck-me looks she’s sending me.

Her hand swipes over my nipple ring as she takes off my jacket.

I cock a brow at her, but she smiles innocently. I need to wear a badge saying I’m unavailable or something. Not that anyone would believe I have an actual girlfriend.

Danny and Tristan smirk knowingly at me as I sit down.

“Long time no see,” Danny says dryly.

“Yeah, yeah.” I wave my hand dismissively and take the Scotch Alexia places down in front of me. As she bends, I get an eyeful of cleavage. “How are you both?” I ask before they can take the piss out of my absence these past few weeks. This is the longest I’ve gone without seeing them, three weeks.

Ever since I told Bonnie I loved her; I can’t get enough.

My Bonnie.

My girl.

I’m seriously in danger of becoming a pathetic wreck of a man. If she knew half the scenarios I’m concocting in my head, she’d run for the hills. Especially the one where enough young Knights are running about to form an East End version of The Sound of Music.

She’s holding back. She hasn’t told me she loves me yet, but I’ll wait for as long as it takes.

“Tired as fuck,” Danny growls. He looks wrecked. “I’m living with six females who all own my balls and I’m in the middle of opening two more offices in Asia.”

Danny has three daughters under three. Counting Charlie, his fiancée, that’s four females.

“So, Tristan’s mother is still living with you, I take it. That’s five though, not six.”

Danny rakes a hand through his hair. “Callie’s staying with us while she finds somewhere to live this year for uni. So now I have both Kane sisters under my roof.” His eyes throw daggers at Tristan. “Why she doesn’t want to live with her big brother is beyond me. You have that massive house for just you and Elly.”

“We’ll fill it soon.” Tristan laughs and takes a gulp of his drink. “Unfortunately for you, you live too close to the uni so she can get out of bed at 9 a.m. and still be in time for class.”

Danny sighs. “It’s okay, I’ve found a solution.”

I raise my brows, waiting.

“I’ve bought the house next door.”

Tristan and I look at each other.

“For you to move into?” I ask, unable to conceal my amusement.

“Not me,” Danny grumbles. “I’ll put Charlie’s mum and sister in there. With CCTV to watch Callie because I had to go down the station the other night. She got arrested for being drunk and disorderly on a bicycle.”

“I’m not happy about that,” Tristan mutters, running a line down his jaw. “That won’t happen again.”

Tristan and Charlie’s younger sister is a bit of a live wire. “Damn. Bit extreme, isn’t it? Buying the house next door.”

“Don’t you start. You’ve got no fucking clue, Knight. You live with a dog. Both of you can sit around farting, accountable to no one.”

I laugh. “When you marry the girl, you marry her family. You knew that, Walker. Although I might be married faster than you.”

Danny and Charlie have been engaged for about three years.

“I’ve decided when we do get married, nobody is invited. Just me, Charlie and the girls.”

“So, no date for the wedding then?”

“At this rate, not until Mollie turns eighteen.” He looks wrecked but his eyes twinkle and I know he wouldn’t change things for the world.

Mollie is his youngest and about six months old.

“You might be married faster, huh, Knight?” Tristan’s lips quirk as he plays with his own wedding ring.

I can’t hide my grin. “Bonnie is incredible. No other woman compares. I’m done.”

Tristan studies me, smirking. “Sweet Jesus. A woman finally capable of taming Knight. How the hell did she do it?”

I shrug. “Just by being her. I’m a simple guy.”

Danny looks at me thoughtfully. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad to see you happy, mate. Bonnie is a lovely lass.” He pauses. “Any more updates on the case?”

I down my Scotch. “We’re closing in. The barmaid from the White Horse was interviewed. She said she saw two guys running away roughly around the time of the incident. She didn’t want to say anything when Wicks was thought to have done it.”

“Does she remember after all this time?” Tristan asks.

“The police are doing a sketch of the two based on her description,” I say. “Then they’ll work their magic and age it. One of them will be the guy Wicks said, Gleeson.” My hands tighten around the glass. “I almost feel sorry for the other poor fucker. I won’t stop until he has the heaviest sentence there is. A fucking unreasonable sentence.”

They exchange glances.

“Let the police do their job,” Danny says in a measured tone.

“Yeah, yeah,” I reply gruffly, downing the last of my drink. “Look, I have to shoot.”

Danny’s eyes narrow as I stand up. “Where the hell are you going?”

I wrestle a grin. “I have to unblock a sink.”

“Fuck’s sake, Knight. You do realise one of the perks of being a billionaire is that you can pay a plumber?”

“What can I say? I’m old-fashioned. I don’t want another man touching my missus’s plumbing. Later, chaps. See you for golf on Sunday.”

“You bloody better,” Tristan mutters as they both scowl.

“Where are you going, Jack?” Alexia purrs as I ask for my coat. “I’m planning to have a nightcap with you.”

“Sorry,” I say sheepishly. “I have a girlfriend.”

She laughs in my face. “Sure, Jack.”

Fuck’s sake.

***

Thirty minutes later I’m in Bonnie’s flat, grinning at her like a desperate dog with his owner.

“You didn’t need to leave the guys early, Jack.” She looks more exhausted than Danny.

Her pyjama T-shirt is looser than it should be. I worry she’s training too hard for the marathon. All she seems to do is run, work and fuck me…hard.

I sink into the couch, exactly where I’m supposed to be as Bonnie curls up beside me. She tries to keep her eyes open but after minutes her head falls onto my chest.

I brush strands of hair away from her sharp cheekbones, careful not to wake her. With her mouth slightly ajar and face scrubbed of make-up, she looks younger than her twenty-eight years.

I could watch her sleep all night.

Her eyelids flutter and I wonder what she’s dreaming about.

I know I don’t have her completely yet. Not the way she has me. There’s something stopping her opening up.

Maybe it’s because she was burnt so badly by Max. Maybe it’s pictures of me with women.

Maybe it’s seven billion pounds.

I don’t know what it is yet, but I’ll find out.

As gently as I can, I lift her into my arms and carry her to the bedroom. She stirs slightly, nuzzling into my neck but her eyes don’t open.

When I deposit her on the bed, I go to the bathroom and take everything from under the sink.

I was telling the truth to Danny and Tristan. Give me Bonnie’s DIY projects any day over sitting in a members’ bar with tits on tap.

Her sink is fucked, completely clogged up with whatever bloody products women use. This flat needs so many repairs, it’s a joke. I want her living with me but if I ask her, I worry she’ll freak out.

I might as well check the kitchen sink while I’m at it.

I rip off my top, sweating with the heat of Bonnie’s tiny kitchen and start to move everything from under the sink. Who the hell keeps tampons under the sink?

A laundry soap box tips over onto the floor but thankfully it’s empty.

Except it’s not empty.

Buried at the bottom is something shiny in a cellophane bag. Something that looks like it shouldn’t live in a laundry box. It’s one of Bonnie’s necklaces.

I’m not surprised she keeps losing her reading glasses.

I inspect the bag in confusion.

What the hell?

It’s impossible.

The hairs on the back of my neck rise as I stare down at something I haven’t seen in ten years.

Why the hell does my girlfriend have my dead dad’s possessions under her sink?