Thank you for the kind words on the last chapter, its amazing to know that there's still people out there who miss these characters the way I do. And hey, as long as you're willing to keep reading, I'm willing to keep writing. I love 'Rise' but this Pete/Allie universe will always have my heart. Please enjoy and if you have a second, leave a review, they honestly mean the world.
Love as always, El. xx
Pete Dunham had always carried himself with a certain confidence. Whether it was natural or whether it was a defence mechanism he'd built up in childhood as a means of refusing to show when his father's verbal and physical lashings got to him, he honestly didn't know.
But what he did know, as he followed Richard Harding through the garden and into the warmth of the mansion his girlfriend called home, was that there wasn't a shred of said confidence left in his body.
"Y'know, I make it a point to travel light," Richard called over his shoulder. "Unlike my daughter and tart of a son, I'm a passport, pants and toothbrush kind of chap. However…"
He turned to face the young man behind him, his back against the black and white oak door which was framed with vines and pulled an old, slightly rusted key out of his shirt pocket.
"I've never once left this country without locking this door and pocketing the key," he grinned. "Fancy seeing why?"
Pete gulped, wondering where he was going with this. And more important, what the hell was behind the door. He was posh, probably hunted in his youth so for all he knew, it could be filled with shotguns. Sythes. Maybe even one of those ball and chain things with spikes on. All instruments perfect for taking out the likes of men ambling through his house and corrupting his daughter.
Casting a quick glance behind him and out towards the expanse of garden, Pete snorted, realising that hiding his body likely wouldn't be an issue either.
Richard opened the door and shunted it, causing it to creak menacingly before stepping back and gesturing for Pete to step through.
"I uh…" he scratched the back of his head and shuffled from foot to foot. "I really don't wanna take up your time, y'know? I'm sure you've got stuff to do and-…"
"Nonsense!" Richard clapped him on the shoulder, using the opportunity to push him through into the dark room. "What's more important than a spot of male bonding with the man who quite literally just fell out of my daughter's bedroom?"
Pete closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing for his phone to ring. For the ceiling to cave in. For the Thames to suddenly rise 50 foot and send a tsunami speeding through the city. Anything that would make this go away.
"Look, I know you must want my guts for garters," Pete held up his hands, gulping once more as the old man shut the door and descended them into darkness. "But I swear, I'm a good bloke. I've got character witnesses…like my brother,"
He frowned, shaking his head.
"Actually, scratch that, he's a prick," he chewed his bottom lip for a moment and then pointed at Richard, his eyes wide. "Dave! My mate Dave! He's a pilot so he's not…y'know…he's…"
"Pete," Richard's voice suddenly came from behind him and God help him, Pete Dunham, Major of the GSE actually yelped.
"If I wanted to kill you, I'd have done it already," he grinned, flicking on the lights and illuminating the room.
It was all oak and exposed brick, a large, expensive looking desk sat in the middle and rows and rows of bottles lined the walls.
"Sit down before you have a bloody heart attack, will you?" he gestured to one of the leather chairs as he began busying himself at the small cart which housed several crystal glasses. "Whiskey?"
"Why the fuck not," Pete laughed, shaking his head as he flopped down into one of the chairs before immediately remembering who he was with and what was happening.
"I mean…uh…water, is fine?" he sat up straight and frowned when the old man laughed.
"Y'know Harry told me you were different," he shook his head as he poured two glasses and handed one to the young blonde before sitting in the chair next to him. "I wasn't quite sure what he meant but now I'm starting to get the picture."
Pete felt his stomach ache suddenly; over the past six months, he had come to look on Harry Harding as much of a friend as any of the boys were. But then, he was still the bloke from the dodgy side of town. Maybe it was all a show for Allie's sake.
"He uh…he told you I'm an artful dodger type, out to screw up your daughter's life, I'm guessing?" he snorted and took a long sip of the amber liquid, the fire it trailed down to his gullet reminding him that it was barely 11am.
"Actually," Richard pursed his lips, swilring his own glass before taking a sip. "He said you were the best decision Allie had ever made."
Pete blinked, the ache in his stomach easing as he saw the honesty in the older man's eyes. Christ, he owed Harry a beer for this.
"It's a funny thing, having a daughter," he continued, his voice soft. "After having two boys, I was lost. My days were spent chucking them in the air and play fighting, nearly scalping myself building them a bloody tree house."
Pete felt a pang in his chest as he was reminded, not for the first time, what it meant to actually come from a good home. To have a father that loved you.
"And then Allie came along," Richard shook his head with a laugh. "And I was petrified. It was like having something made of glass, she was so tiny and all I wanted to do was protect her." He snorted. "Then she learned to talk,"
Pete laughed quietly, shooting the old man a knowing look and taking another sip of his whiskey.
"She's so like her mother, you wouldn't believe." Richard smiled fondly, staring at the far wall where a photo of he and his wife hung crookedly. "She's strong, passionate, she'll fight and die on the hill for just about anything. She's smart…my God, is she smart. And she has a huge heart, one I've seen broken before."
Pete shook his head, turning to face the man head on and levelling him with a what felt like a confident stare for the first time since they'd met. Richard caught it and fought the urge to grin.
"Granted, how we just met…I wasn't exactly how I saw it goin'," Pete cringed. "I'm wearing last night's clothes, I've got a touch of a hangover and I fell off your house. I'm a slight fuck up, my background ain't this."
He gestured to the walls and shook his head, wondering if he should quit now while he was ahead, run for the door and send Allie a postcard from whatever corner of the earth he ended up moving to.
"But if you believe one thing about me," he set his jaw firmly and raised his chin. "I would never, ever hurt that girl." He stretched his legs out in front of him and felt a slight twinge in his back, knowing full well the 2 storey tumble he'd taken was going to be fun to explain to the lads later.
"She told you about the night we met, didn't she? I bet she made it sound like I saved her life or something and I dunno…maybe I did. But what I guarantee you she left out is that every night since then, she's saved mine."
Richard watched as the young man's eyes lit up, the already unearthly blue taking on a more vibrant hue as a smile crossed his handsome features.
"I mean, don't get me wrong…she's a pain in the arse," he snorted. "She always has to have the last word, she cries at every film we watch and her cooking…"
"Ah, what delight did you have to suffer?" Richard smirked, knowingly.
"I don't know how you set fire to a whole chicken," Pete shook his head, his eyes wide. "But your daughter made it happen,"
The old man laughed heartily, taking a large sip of his whiskey and feeling a warmth in his chest. His wife had been exactly the same.
"But she makes me a better man," Pete continued, his voice more serious. "She makes me want all the stuff I never thought I would, all that romance bolloc-.."
He froze and looked over at Richard, half expecting him to order him out of the house and back to whatever hovel he'd come from.
"I don't suppose she ever told you the story of how I met her mother?" he cocked his head.
The young man shook his own head, his body language relaxing just a touch as he leant forward in his chair, his eyes eager.
"I was at a protest, I have no idea what it was for," he smirked. "You see, I wanted to save the world. But I was also 20 and hadn't learned yet that it didn't matter how much I yelled if I didn't know what I was yelling about. So I went to this protest. There's hundreds of people there, most of them living in tents in the park, everyone clambering to get over each other. So, being the intelligent man I was, I decided to climb on top of a police car to get a good look."
He paused, a warm smile of remembrance falling over his face.
"And I stack it. I mean, really go down like a sack of shit," he caught the look on Pete's face and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I swear. What, you think we go around yelling 'fudge' and 'fiddelsticks' in this house? You have met my son, haven't you?"
Pete laughed, his first real laugh since they had sat down and nodded, his tongue pushed into the side of his cheek as he gestured for Richard to continue.
"And I land hard. My head smacks against the pavement and all I can see is a police man yelling at me as he walks over to me, baton raised…I know I'm buggered, basically. And then someone grabs me and drags me onto the green. I'm trying to work out where I am and what's going on and I look up and see…this…this Goddess."
"I smile through the blood, think, I've got this, I'll hit her with some Harding charm," he smirked. "And she looks down at me and says "happy with yourself, you twat?'"
Pete's laughter echoed the old man's as he took another sip of whiskey, the irony not lost on him that his and Allie's meeting hadn't been a million miles from the story he was listening to.
"Pete, I followed that woman around for months," he rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned back into the warm leather of the chair. "Begged her for a date, a coffee, anything. And she shot me down every time. So, I told her, 'that's fine. I'll leave you alone but I promise you something, Poppy Morgan, one of these days, I will marry you.'"
"And I did," he sniffed. "And she gave me the most incredible life, three beautiful children. She gave me the best 32 years anyone could have asked for. And when she got sick," he stared down at his glass for a moment. "I loved her more than anything else on this earth. She was my best friend and I would have done anything for her."
"So many nights I say up with her and all I wanted to do was trade places with her, to be the one in that bed. To take her pain, I wanted to save her," his voice broke slightly and he cleared his throat before turning to look at the young man next to him.
"I couldn't. I had to watch her…fade right in front of me. I had to hold those children up when she'd left us and I had to live without her and Pete, I wouldn't wish it on anyone. See, once you find that person…your person…my God, you hold onto them as tight as you can."
Pete leant forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he took a moment, considering his next words carefully. Glancing it, he met the eyes of the older man and held them, feeling more certain of what he was about to say than of anything else in his life.
"Richard," he shook his head. "I'm in love with your daughter. She's done a number on me that I swore no one ever would. She's all I think about, she's at the centre of every decision I make. She changed the way I looked at the world, y'know? It was always pay check to pay check, hangover to hangover…but Allie. When I look at her, I see a woman who's smarter, funnier and more caring than anyone I've ever known. She takes people as they are, she only sees the good in them. And that includes me."
"So, no, meeting you like this isn't how I had it planned out in my head but y'know what, maybe this is better. Because there's no airs and graces. This is who I am. I'm gonna fall out of her bedroom again, I guarantee it. She's gonna want to kill me at times. Christ knows, there might even come a day when she wakes up and realises she can do better than me, that she deserves better than me. But until that day and fuck it, even after, I will love her. I will protect her and do everything I can to make her happy. Because that's all that matters to me."
Richard sat back in his chair, his lips pursed as he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.
"That was quite a speech," he smirked.
"Yeah, well." Pete rolled his eyes. "Chalk it up to concussion from the fall,"
Richard laughed and stood, reaching his hand and yanking the younger man to his feet. Their eyes met and a silent agreement seemed to pass between them, no matter what happened, they had the same vested interests: to make Allie Harding happy.
"Harry was right," Richard grimaced. "You've no idea how disturbing it is to say those words, by the way. But he was. You're good for her. And from what you tell me she's good for you. So just…do me a favour? Use the stairs."
Pete threw his head back and laughed, any tension he had felt in the moments before leaving his body entirely. Unfortunately, that meant the ache in his back became more prominent.
"So," Richard sent him a tight lipped smile. "Shall we go and risk personal injury?"
"Christ," Pete rubbed his forehead. "Last time she cooked me breakfast, I ended up buying a new kettle."
"Kettle?!" Richard stared at him wide eyed.
"Seriously, old man," Pete laughed and slung an arm around his shoulders. "Don't ask."