"Elliot, leave," I say as I hold the door to the basement open, and my dad looks over at me as my loud voice echoes around the room. Elliot is twelve fucking years old, and dad is beating the shit out of him. Elliot raises his head off the mat as dad’s fist stops mid-air at my comment, and I know I'm about to get fucking hell for stopping this. They pull apart as dad stands up, as does Elliot but far more scarily. His dark hair is matted to his head with sweat, and blood is pouring out of his nose onto the blue mat on the floor. Elliot's arms hold his chest, and I know I will have to make sure nothing is broken later. I'm sure dads 'training' could have been worse if I hadn’t come back sooner. I only went out on a bloody date for one night. I should have known dad would take the chance to teach them without me here to stop him. He always does this because he knows I will stop him, and then he will have to punish me instead, which I think he is getting bored of doing since I’ve gotten older. And stronger.

"Go on, little boy," dad taunts, walking away as Elliot rushes past me out the door, not making any eye contact. I will have to call the school tomorrow and tell them he isn't coming in for a few days until his ribs, or whatever the fuck else dad has done, have healed. The fact he moved so quickly out of the room gives me hope that nothing is too wrong.

"You never learn, Harley. Always protecting them like the little shit you are," dad says, walking over to me as I shut the door behind me. The last thing I need is for the kids to hear any of this. 

Dad grabs his bottle of whatever and drinks a load while he watches me, clearly calculating something. 

"Tomorrow, you’re fighting for me. You won't lose," he tells me, before pouring himself another drink.

"What?" I ask in horror as I hope he doesn't think what I think.

"Don't act fucking dumb, Harley. You’re the best I've seen, when you fight those boys I find for you. Your brothers can't last two seconds," he spits out.

"That's because they are against adult men who fight for a living. They are kids, dad. Don’t you give a shit about us?" I shout.

"You will do it, and they will learn," dad shrugs, drinking some more.

“Are you not even going to answer my question? Are we just something to win fights for you in the Cage? Is that the only reason you kept us around after mum left?”

“Don’t talk about that bitch,” he says, throwing his glass into the wall. I don’t even flinch as it smashes. 

"Tomorrow," he says walking past me, and the reek of alcohol nearly makes me choke as he walks past. He stops as he opens the door and looks back at me.

"After all, it's your birthday, son. Don’t say I don’t care. I remembered," he chuckles to himself as I hear the door slam behind me, and I pray I make it out alive for no other reason than my brothers need me. 

"Man, just go and knock on her door," Luke bumps my shoulder as he carries two pizza boxes into the lounge, and I snap out of the memory. I have no idea why I’m thinking about it, now. Isn’t it bad enough that my memories haunt me when I sleep? I continue to pace, getting more pissed that Tilly hasn't come downstairs since Izzy left earlier today. She must be hungry, and I'm ignoring the part of me that is begging for a chance to stare at her more. The red-haired siren is going to be the death of me, I think as I walk out of the lounge and head upstairs.  I stop when I’m standing outside her bedroom, which is opposite mine. I groan internally considering how that was a bad idea to have her so close. I could have given her the guest room next to Izzy, but I'm a selfish bastard who wants to see her first in the morning, even if I can't be the one she wakes up next to. I would be no good for a girl like her. I’m too messed up to offer her anything.

I knock a few times before the door is opened by a freshly showered Tilly. Her red hair is down, and she is wearing a green-silk pyjama shirt and trousers. The colour complements her pale skin and her hair, making her more bloody beautiful. I swear this siren was sent here to tease me.

"Do you need something?" she asks me, raising one perfect eyebrow in suspicion as her eyes drop to my body before meeting my eyes. She, apparently, caught me checking her out. Not that I care if she realises. 

"Dinner is here, come downstairs," I reply.

"No." She goes to shut the door, and I stop it with my foot before pushing it open a little more, so I can see her face in the dark room.

"That's rude," I comment, almost amused by her need to get away from me so quickly.

"Me? You didn't say please, so you’re clearly the rude one here," she says, hiding a small smile.

"You must be hungry," I shrug off her comment, not wanting to admit that she might be right. 

"Nope, I wouldn't want to bother you," she crosses her arms, making her large chest bounce up. It takes me way too long to pull my gaze up to her eyes, and she glares at me. 

"Please come and eat with us. If you don’t, I swear I’ll put you over my shoulder and carry you downstairs," I tell her, meaning every word. I don’t like the idea of her sitting up here hungry and alone.

"You only had to say please," she huffs, slipping past me and walking towards the stairs as I stare at her fantastic ass. 

"I don't say please often, siren, you might as well just do as I ask," I say, and she looks over her shoulder at me before she laughs. I really won't ask her nicely again. Clearly, the little siren isn't going to listen to me. I run my hands over my face looking away from Tilly's ass as I try to calm the fucking hard-on I have down. I fucking love it when women don't act like cowards, but I can't have this one. Man, she must be four years younger than me and my sister’s best friend, to boot. 

"Well, hello there," Luke says to Tilly as she walks into the lounge. I walk in as he openly checks her out before looking at my face and smartly looking sheepish. I try not to glare at him, but it doesn’t work. I already want to get him to leave, somehow. What the hell is wrong with me?

"You must be Luke," she says before sitting on the opposite sofa to Luke. I don’t even want to admit how relieved I am that she chose not to sit by him. I take the seat next to her despite her glare in my direction.

"You must be Tilly, is that short for anything?" Luke asks, flipping the channel to some music that he likes.

"Maybe, but that's like asking a woman's age, I won't tell you," she jokes, eyeing up the pizza.

"Help yourself, there's a four-cheese pizza and a pepperoni one." I wave a hand.

Luke thinks about what she says before saying, "It can't be that bad of a name."

"It is," she laughs taking three pieces of the four-cheese one, and I help myself to a mixture of both. 

We eat in a comfortable silence before Luke starts asking more questions.

"So, why isn't your family here?"

"It's complicated. We are all moving here in three months anyway. I just needed to leave a little early," she says, shifting slightly in her seat and keeping her face blank. Most people wouldn’t think she was lying. That’s one thing I’ve always been good at; spotting when people lie, and I know the siren is right now.

"Why?" Luke asks not caring how Tilly tenses and looks away. 

"She doesn't have to answer that," I point out.

"So, I've eaten, and now, I'm going to bed." Tilly stands and moves surprising quick out of the room. I have to jog to catch her at the end of the stairs.

"Wait," I say, and she halts on the stairs, turning to face me. 

"We are going to watch a movie if you want to stay. I promise to stop Luke from being a nosy fucker," I grin. I step a little closer to the stairs, and she watches me as I gently push a stray curl behind her ear and move my hand back, as I realise what I just did. Fuck, I shouldn't have done that. Her impossibly blue eyes widen, and her cheeks flush red.  

"I'm tired, so thanks, but goodnight," she stutters some of her words and quickly runs away from me up the stairs. 

What the fuck was I thinking standing so close to her or touching her fucking soft hair? I don't do relationships. I walk into the lounge and sit down.

"Bro, she is hot," Luke says, leaning back on the sofa and watching me for some kind of reaction. I look over at him, noticing how he has grown up recently, looking older than I’ve ever seen him.

"Watch it," I say, opening a beer that Luke has on the table.

"You like her," he says, looking a little shocked.

"No, I don't," I end the conversation because, honestly, I need to get her out of my head. She reminds me of things I can't have because of my past, like a happy, normal future.