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Chapter 4

"Emma, where is the coffee?"

She furrowed her brows, trying to remember where she had put it after making herself the strongest coffee she'd ever had. She was actually surprised the spoon didn't stand upright in it.

She wasn't sleeping well lately and one of the reasons was a certain dark-haired prick who haunted her dreams, made her jerk up sweat-soaked, not being able to go back to sleep until she slipped her fingers between her legs and pleasured herself while pictures of his naked torso flitted over her closed eyelids.

"Aehm, ..." She pressed her fingers against her forehead but Graham's voice interrupted her thought process.

"Never mind. Found it."

She closed her eyes and leaned her head on the backrest, wrapping her fingers around the warm mug in her hand.

"So, what has gotten into you?" She blinked one eye open and turned her head slowly, wondering how anyone could look so awake that early in the morning.

"Leave me alone, August. I haven't had my coffee yet."

"Here you go." Graham stepped into the living room, holding one cup out to August who took it with a murmured thanks and a smile, scooting over so that Graham could sit beside him and Graham slipped onto the couch, leaning forward and pressing a kiss against August's lips. "Good morning, love."

Emma couldn't keep herself from smiling because these two were so stinking cute and she ignored the pang she felt as she watched them exchange amorous glances. Was it preposterous to wish for something like this too?

"So, Emma." Graham entwined his fingers with August's and both turned around to her, the expression on their faces making her groan inwardly. "What's up with you?"

She could hardly tell them about the stripper that invaded her dreams every damn night. They would go after him if they found out about the note. She hadn't even told Ruby, no matter how much her friend had begged her to reveal what had been on that note.

But the stripper wasn't the only thing weighing on her mind. The date came closer and her throat closed up, a shudder running over her body as the old memories slammed back into her.

"Ian's birthday is soon."

She didn't have to say anything further. Both knew why her nephew's birthday was giving her heartache and joy at the same time and Graham leaned forward, grabbing her hand and squeezing it softly.

"Whatever we can do for you two." He said gently, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. "We are here for you. For David and you."

"I know. And David knows. Thank you."

She tightened her grip around his fingers, closing her eyes, trying desperately to keep the memories of this day away but failed. A tear slipped down her cheek and she felt August's arm coming around her shoulder and pulling her into his embrace and she snuggled closer, burying her face against his chest, biting her tongue to not start sobbing.

It hadn't been fair. It just hadn't been fair that she had gotten ripped out of their lives so abruptly and even four years later it still hurt like hell.

~K&E~

His steps faltered as he came closer to the gravestone, his heart weighing heavy in his chest, his fingers clutching the flowers in his hand. It had been seven years. But it still felt as if it had happened yesterday.

Sitting down on the bench in front of the gravestone, he let his eyes roam over the names and his lips trembled, his hands started to shake uncontrollably and he gulped in air, trying to not lose it in the middle of the graveyard.

Someone would think time would have healed the wound but the guilt was still eating at him. Even seven years later and it would probably never stop.

Pushing himself from the bench, he stepped in front of the grave, crouching down and putting the flowers on the grave, his fingers trailing over the inscription, his throat closing up.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Tears pricked the back of his eyes and he screwed his eyes shut, gulping hard to keep the tears down but one escaped and trailed down his cheek.

"I knew I would find you here."

He jerked around, blinking until he could see the figure standing in front of him.

"What are you doing here, Ryan?" He growled, wiping the back of his hand over his cheek before he stood up to face his friend.

"It wasn't your fault, Killian."

"We've been over this, Ryan. No matter how often you tell me that, the guilt won't go away." Killian said softly, his eyes flickering back to the inscription. "You and I both know that it was my fault and if I could go back in time I would change it. I would get as far away from her as I could. If I had just left town back then, they would both be still alive.

"Don't do this to yourself."

"You've pulled me from the ledge all those years ago, Ryan. But sometimes I think it would have been better I had just jumped."

He had spiraled out of control after Liam and Milah had died. The sounds of Liam's shout over the phone, the screeching tires and the sickening sound of metal hitting metal had haunted him day and night.

Drugs, alcohol, women. Everything he could get his hands on that had made him forget who he was, where he was. When Ryan had found him he had been about to sell his body to a man, wanted to punish himself for what he had done, wanted to feel used, wanted to feel the pain, realizing that pain was the only thing he could still feel through the numbness that had clouded his brain. But Ryan hadn't let him fall. He had pulled him back, not letting him slip into complete darkness.

"Killian, do I need to beat the crap out of you again?"

He chuckled as he remembered the day Ryan had actually punched him, his fists hitting his body and face over and over again, yelling at him if he wanted to feel pain he could make him feel pain and he would gladly punch him every day until he got it into his head that there were still people who cared about him, who needed him in their lives. He wouldn't be here if Ryan would have given up on him and no matter how miserable he felt he would never forget what his friend had done for him and were still doing.

Stepping forward, Killian pulled him into his arms, whispering hoarsely. "I love you too, man."

~K&E~

She was drunk. But not completely wasted what made this a little problematic. Because she couldn't tell herself afterwards she didn't know what she was doing. She damn well knew what she was doing.

She slipped through the door and went to the back of the room, cowering in a dark corner, her heart skipping a beat as he hopped onto the stage, big grin on his face and her stomach clenched with anticipation.

She wanted him. She couldn't deny it any longer.

But they would play that by her rules, not his.

This time he was joined by another stripper she didn't recognize from the last time and she watched them move in sync, almost like they have done this for years and she gulped hard as she watched the muscles play over their bodies as they stripped to 'Tainted Love', the beat of the music making her body hum and she bit her tongue as her eyes dropped to his midsection, wondering what exactly he was hiding underneath.

She slipped into the bathroom before the show ended, watching her face in the mirror, trying to find a reason to walk out of here and not go find him. But the last weeks had been pure torture and as long as she was keeping it impersonal and was just using him for sex she should be fine. After all he wasn't looking for more either.

It was a perfect arrangement.

Inhaling a deep breath, she stepped out, searching the crowd for his face but only seeing the second stripper, leaning against the wall a few feet away and before she could lose her courage she walked over, remembering his name.

"Ryan, right?"

He turned around and looked her up and down, his mouth tilting up into a grin. "Yes, how can I help you?"

"I'm searching for Killian."

"Go figures." Ryan replied, rolling his eyes. He pushed himself from the wall and walked to the next door, opening it and yelled. "Killian, someone wants to see you."

She waited with pounding heart for him to appear in the doorway and a few seconds later he emerged, a bored expression on his face. But then he spotted her and froze for a second before his mouth curled up into a smug grin and he sauntered over to her.

"Hello, beautiful. To what do I owe the pleasure? Last time I saw you, you were very adamant to tell me that I can go to hell."

"Well, I've changed my mind." She retorted, trying to put a lid on the lust that sizzled through her as she heard his voice. She didn't need an accent to the whole package. The rest had already been enough. Almost too much for her to handle.

"Beg your pardon?"

She didn't let herself think, grabbing him by his hoodie and dragging him back into the room he had just come out of, slamming the door shut behind her and turning the lock.

"I'm gonna suck you off. Isn't that what you wanted?"

He couldn't even get one word out, her hands already shoving the kilt apart, her fingers gripping him hard and a moment later her mouth was wrapped around him, a hiss slipping over his lips as she reached between his legs and cupped his balls, massaging them gently while her head bobbed back and forth.

"Oh my God."

His hips started to rock into her and she let go of his balls, putting her hands flat against the wall, hollowing her cheeks and his hand shot down, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pushed into her mouth, feeling his tip hitting the back of her throat and he let out a guttural growl as she let him fuck her mouth, his hips jerking in an erratic pace, his fingers digging into her scalp.

He was so close, he could already feel his balls tightening but then she suddenly pushed herself away from the wall, his cock slipping out of her mouth with a loud pop.

"That should be enough for now." She drawled and before he could comprehend what she was saying she was out of the door, leaving him hard and pounding behind.

He stalked towards the door and yanked it open, yelling after her. "Where do you think you are going?"

She only waved her hand over her shoulder without looking back and he snapped. "Hey! I don't even know your name."

But she didn't answer and just vanished out of the door of the club. He growled, unable to follow her in his state and slamming the door shut, he turned the lock, leaning against it and flapping the kilt aside to finish what she had started and a few strokes later he spurted his release into the sink at the other side of the room. He couldn't even remember when he had jerked off in public the last time. Normally he waited until he was home.

"Bloody vixen." He hissed under his breath as he cleaned the sink and washed his hands afterwards.

Gritting his teeth he balled his hands into fists beside his body, mashing down the urge to hit the wall. She hadn't finished him off and she would bloody well pay for leaving him like this. But he had actually no idea how to find her. So he could only pray that she would come back. And the next time he would make her beg and maybe he would also leave her hanging high and dry like she had done with him.

But alone the thought of her tight, wet pussy enveloping his cock made him hard again and he groaned, hitting his head repeatedly against the wall as he reached down again, wondering how often he would jerk off with the picture of her kneeling in front of him and letting him fuck her mouth burning in his brain.

"Bloody hell."