5.
The following evening Kristin sat at the kitchen table, nervously waiting for Pete to get home. He had never even moved in officially. One day it just seemed like most of his things were there and he never went back to his own place. He had a penthouse apartment on the other side of the city and it was a long drive. Kristin’s house was closer to the office, so after a while it just seemed to make sense that he spend the majority of his time there. Even if she hadn’t specifically consented to it.
She heard his keys in the door and braced herself. He came inside, hot and flustered, his hair windswept and greasy from the day before. She’d heard him that morning and knew he hadn’t showered. He’d rolled out of bed late, spritzed himself with cologne and changed his shirt before heading out of the door.
“Fucking Clarke,” he said as he threw his briefcase down on the table in front of her, “Wasting my fucking time…”
Kristin didn’t respond, hoping her silence would break him out of his self-obsessed drama.
“What’s the matter with you?” he looked up finally and snarled.
Kristin breathed in and got to her feet.
“I don’t want an argument, but I’ve been thinking a lot over the past few weeks, and I don’t see this going anywhere.” She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for the backlash.
He curled his lip and sneered.
“Shut up,” he turned his back on her and walked over to the refrigerator. From all of the responses she had been expecting, that certainly wasn’t one of them.
“I’m being serious Pete,” she said, “I want you to leave. Now.”
He stopped in his tracks and cricked his neck before he turned back to her with rage in his eyes.
“I told you to shut the fuck up,” he spat. “Now move out of my fucking way before I open the door with your face!” He shoved past her and Kristin fell into the kitchen table. She was shaking and the tears welled in the corner of her eyes.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
She didn’t know what else to , so she reached for her purse with shaking hands and pulled out her cell. She furiously hit “dial” and held the phone up to her ear.
“Jonny,” she said as she heard him say hello, “I need you to get me Dan Lockhart’s phone number… fast.”
***
When she called him, she didn’t know what she expected, but Locke was a lot different to how he had been at the police station.
“I’m glad you got in touch,” he said as he sat opposite her in a park on the edge of town. He was clad in leather and big heavy boots, sitting on top of his motorcycle and smoking a cigarette.
“I need your help,” Kristin whispered as she looked around her.
“How the tables have turned,” Locke raised his eyebrows and exhaled with a grin.
“Look, I don’t know what happened the other day, but with my job and everything I really shouldn’t be getting involved with you.”
He lit up another smoke and offered her one. She declined.
“I need you to scare someone for me… Someone I work with who I may have dated for a while… He’s causing me some trouble.”
“What happened?” Locke sat up straight and instantly looked annoyed.
“I tried to break up with him and make him leave my house and he threatened me,” she said. “If you help me, you know, scare him a bit somehow… I’ll help you in any way you want with your case.”
“I’ll do it for nothing,” he said, exhaling a plume of smoke over his shoulder. “I don’t want you to be my lawyer, I told you that.”
“Well then why did you call me?” She was genuinely confused.
He smiled and moved closer to her.
“I never stopped thinking about you… When I heard what you were up to, I just got curious, made me want a good influence in my life… It was the only way I knew how to get your attention.”
Kristin shook her head and turned away.
“Well, congratulations, you got it,” she laughed. “I’ve thought a lot about you too over the years… wondered what you were up to… where you’d been.”
“I’m sure how you’ve spent the last decade is completely different to how I’ve spent mine…” he said as he looked off into the distance.
Kristin watched him and found her eyes instantly drawn to the scars running down the side of his face. They really did make him look sexier. She had never thought of how something so violent could add appeal to a person. She bit her lip and averted her eyes. She was starting to get worked up.
“I’ll get rid of him,” Locke said as he started the engine on his bike and revved it. “You won’t hear from him again.”
“Wait,” she called, “Don’t hurt him… I just want him out of my house.”
Locke leaned over and pulled her to him. He stared at her deep in the eyes and wrapped an arm around her base so he was holding the base of her spine. He leaned into her and kissed her forcefully on the mouth. His lips were red hot and full of passion as his tongue parted her lips and slipped inside, massaging against hers. Kristin melted in his arms and wrapped her arms around his neck. She had thought about kissing Locke since she was a teenager, and now there they both were, him thirty and her in her late twenties, finally breaking down that boundary.
Kristin pulled back and stared into his eyes.
“I’ll get rid of him,” he assured her. “Just go home, pack his stuff and put it outside.”
“Okay,” she said with a nod.
Locke rode off with a huge roar which made Kristin’s skin tingle. She had no idea what she was doing, but it just felt so right. She walked back to her Mercedes and got inside. She looked in the mirror and noticed that his stubble had worn against her delicate skin and her lips were on fire. She reached up and touched them and a squeal of delight escaped. She had finally kissed the bad boy of her dreams.