Chapter 7

"I read about the Norse goddess, Skade, when I was a kid," I told Skorpa. "I wanted to be her. My friends—the ones I was at the gig with—started calling me that. It stuck and when I started up my own business, it seemed like a good idea to keep my personal life separate from my work by using Skade for everything non-official. I like to put some things on social media, but I don't necessarily want my clients finding me and seeing it."

"What do you do for work?" he asked.

"I'm a graphic designer."

"Sounds impressive. Did you go to university for that?"

"Night school, while I was working in a shop to pay my rent. It's not as exciting as it sounds. A lot of the time I design logos for companies or make up fliers and posters for advertising—stuff like that. It's decent money, though."

"You look too young to have your own business."

I laughed. "They all say that. I'm twenty-six. I had to have ID to get into the Cauldron until four years ago."

Skorpa smiled. "Twenty-six; that's a relief. I was hoping you weren't jailbait. I've been there enough."

"So I've heard."

"Been Googling me?"

"I might have."

"And you still came out tonight." He studied me, his gaze sliding down my body, then back up. "You don't look as if you came to hang out with a mate either."

"I'd be in jeans and a tee shirt if that were the case."

"So, it is a date then." He smirked and one eyebrow lifted. "If there is anything you want to ask me, feel free."

"Do you work?"

"As opposed to living off my ill-gotten gains?" He grinned. "I own a garage. I don't work there, but I used to when I first bought it, longer ago than I like to remember. I have a bunch of guys running it for me now. They do tune-ups and modifications on cars."

"Like in 'Fast and Furious'? I love those movies."

"Very like that. I used to fancy myself as a bit of a Dominic Toretto when I was about your age. Went down the same road of using the garage as a front for what I was doing to earn the real money, too." He smiled wryly and shook his head. "That was what landed me in prison the first time. The cops raided the garage but didn't find what they hoped was going to be there. All they got was what I had in my pocket, so they had me on possession. The guy who got me involved in it had the rest. I found out later that he heard about the raid an hour before it happened, and he moved the stuff so they couldn't get me for intent to supply. They caught him before he could get it out of his car, and it was his second drug offence, so they threw the book at him."

"You're surprisingly open about it."

He shrugged. "You can find most of it on the Internet if you look. There's no point in trying to pretend to be something I'm not. If you are thinking of getting into anything with me, then you should know the worst of it from the beginning."

"Do you still do that?"

"Deal? Not since I went down. The garage is doing well. My guys kept it going for me and they carried on running it when I got out. Unfortunately, I have a temper on me, which is what got me in trouble the second time."

"What happened?"

"The woman I was dating decided she'd had enough of me, but she started seeing another guy before she told me that. He knew I was still on the scene, too."

"So, you showed him it was a bad idea to mess with your property?" I sounded a little sharper than I intended.

"You caught that the other night, huh?" He huffed out a breath. "I didn't mean it that way when I spoke to Haeston. It was intended to piss him off, not insult you."

I nodded and paused to sip my drink. "How old are you?"

"Not as old as I look. Forty-one. I just had a birthday. Does that bother you?"

"Not at all." I smiled at him. Nothing he'd said had surprised me, and I liked that he was so open and honest. Maybe it wouldn't be a good idea to get involved with someone like him, but I didn't regret coming out to meet him. I was well aware that if I gave him any encouragement, there would be no turning back.

"You want to get something to eat?" he suggested. "They do bar meals, or we could go somewhere else."

"Here is fine. Do they have scampi?"

"Yeah. Hey, Beocca!" He shouted at the balding barman. "Two baskets of scampi over here, when you're ready!"

"Sure, Skorpa. Fifteen minutes."

We chatted more while we waited for the food. He had a nice voice—deep, but not rough. He had the slightest hint of an accent and he often spoke quite precisely.

"How old were you when you left Denmark?" I asked.

"Twelve. My mother died when I was a little kid and my father remarried. She was English. They met when she was on an exchange programme. He moved here to be with her and brought me along. That's a story for another time. Would you like another drink?"

"Yes, please. Same again."

Skorpa got up and went to the bar, ordered some drinks, then disappeared into the gents. One of the men sitting at the next table caught my eye and smiled. He looked to be about sixty and had a frizzy grey ponytail. "Haven't seen you here before," he said. "First date, is it?"

My lips twitched. "Something like that."

He grinned and winked. "Skorpa's a lucky man."

"Thanks, I think."

Skorpa reappeared, took the drinks that had appeared on the bar, and came back to the table. A couple of minutes later, Beocca brought two baskets of scampi and chips with condiments and forks. I was starving and I realised I'd barely eaten all day—I'd been too nervous. Now, I was just enjoying myself.

We ate the food and talked some more. Then I excused myself and went to the toilet, aware that quite a few eyes followed me as I walked around the bar. When I came out, Skorpa was standing by one of the pool tables talking to the older guy who'd spoken to me. Both of our drinks were on a nearby shelf. I changed direction and went to him.

"Do you want a game?" I asked.

"You play?"

"Not that well, but I'll give it a go."

Skorpa racked up the balls, and the older guy went to the second pool table, where his companion was setting up a game.

"Do you want to break?" Skorpa offered.

I fudged it and laughed, but after he potted three red balls and it was my turn again, I put on a decent performance. He won, but when we played a second game, I beat him by a narrow margin.

"I'm not as bad as I thought. Shall we have a decider?"

"Sure." He leaned against the table while I set up the last game. He looked like he was enjoying himself—the smile hadn't left his face since we started playing. Actually, he'd seemed pretty happy since I first arrived.

I'd got used to the place now, and most of the guys in there seemed decent. Half a dozen of them had spoken to me—just a quick greeting—and Beocca, the barman, checked that I enjoyed my food. It seemed a friendly bar—not like the ones I usually hung out in with my friends, where each little group of people ignored everyone else.

Skorpa won the last game, but I only had one ball left on the table when he potted the black. When I glanced at the clock on the wall nearby, I was surprised to see it was after ten o'clock. Three hours had gone somewhere, and I hadn't noticed them slipping by.

"Do you have to be somewhere?" Skorpa asked, noticing me looking at the clock.

"No. I was just surprised it's so late already." I put my pool cue in the rack in the corner of the room. "What do you want to do now?"

"I have one or two ideas." He walked around the pool table towards me, put his cue away, and cornered me. "I could get a taxi for you, or—" He rested one hand lightly on my waist.

My pulse quickened as I looked up and met his eyes. He stared back intently; hungrily. I almost felt that he might take a bite out of me.

"Or?" I prompted. I already knew what my answer would be. I hadn't been a hundred percent decided when I got Sihtric to drop me off, but as the hours passed in his company, I had found myself attracted to him.

"Or—" He leaned in closer and his cheek touched mine as he brought his mouth to my ear; "—we could go somewhere quieter."

My heart pounded faster. His hair fell forwards over his shoulder and brushed my arm and the top of my breast. I turned my head as he pulled back a little, and his breath fanned my cheek, then my lips. It was almost like watching myself from outside my body, as each second ticked by. I tilted my head more and our lips touched. His lips caressed mine, warm and firm. Then someone whistled, and he pulled back, grinning.

"Lucky devil," the older guy with the frizzy ponytail said. "Out less than a week and you manage to get the best-looking woman in the place."

I turned around, laughing. "I thought I was the only woman in the place."

Skorpa chuckled, and several of the other men laughed. "Let's get out of here." He rested his hand on my neck, the same way he had in the Cauldron, and steered me to the door. "My place or yours?" he asked as the door closed behind us.

"Where do you live?"

"Stanmore." He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly as a taxi turned into the street. It came towards us and pulled up at the kerb.

"Okay," I said.

We got into the taxi and Skorpa gave the driver an address. He slid his arm around me, and I leaned against his side. My phone beeped in my bag. I ignored it and a few minutes later, it went off again.

"You want to check that?" Skorpa suggested.

"It'll only be my friends checking on me. They can wait."

"If they know you're with me, they're probably worried about you." He laughed softly and kissed my ear. "Get your phone out."

I pulled my phone out of my bag. He swiped it from my hand and opened the camera function. The photo he took showed me with his arm draped around me and his face turned towards me as if he meant to kiss me. Giggling, I sent it to Gisela with the caption, 'All good.' I put the phone away and within a minute or so it beeped several times. I assumed she had forwarded the picture to the others and they were responding with various horrified comments. I ignored them, and when the taxi pulled up outside some fairly new three storey buildings, I turned the phone off.

"You live here?" I asked.

"Yeah. I rented a house previously but when I got arrested last year, the landlord kicked me out. I stored my stuff at the garage and when these flats came up for sale, Erik bought two of them and kept one for me. It's still his but I get to use it for as long as I want."

We climbed two flights of stairs and he unlocked a door on the second floor. I followed him inside and the moment the door closed behind us, he gripped my waist and pinned me against the wall. "I apologise in advance for how quick this will be over."

I smiled. "It doesn't matter. I'm not in any rush to leave."